#ironic that the last thing I ever said to you was “Good luck”
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Almost every day I still think about this super fucking cute guy in my Finance class I got so close dating. He was such a huge nerd, he loooooved Dragon Ball and FNAF and was into computer science, but he was an immigrant from Brazil, and I'm a white girl with dyed hair and piercings who was raised by another white girl with dyed hair and piercings and a stoner, ghetto, former gang member dad. so, despite them being awesome parents who raised me to be kind above all, his parents hated them and me before they even met us. But my parents loved him from what they heard, and we were still gonna try. His parents stopped letting him stay after school. And, I shit you not, on Valentine's Day, I had a heart-shaped piece of rose quartz I was going to give to him to ask him out, and he fucking got picked up early, AND GOT SENT BACK TO BRAZIL. AND HE DIDN'T/DOESN'T HAVE A PHONE. I HAVE NOT HEARD FROM THAT MAN SINCE VALENTINES DAY THIS IS SO FUCKING MEAN
Oh yeah and later that day I shit you not I accidentally flushed the rose quartz down the toilet IT FELL OUT OF MY POCKET AND DISAPPEARED INTO THE TOILET DUDE FUCK
#i keep dreaming about him#I miss you mister Apollo :(#if you see this you should kiss me 🙄☝#toby rambles#ironic that the last thing I ever said to you was “Good luck”#my only regret is not hugging you and giving you a kiss on the cheek before you left#because I had a feeling I should've but was too scared#maybe this is why I wrote the angst for my milkbread fic so well AKAKSJ
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Diet Diaries
Hi all! Thank you so much for 500 followers! Here's a little style switch up to celebrate, got a lotta refs in this one and I quite leaned into the diary entries so I hope it's not too much! Hope y'all enjoy this stereotype reversal and as always, best! -Occam
Monday March 21st-
Andy:
I am beyond sick of Steve. Moving in together was a mistake, I don’t care how cheap the rent is, he is a narcissistic slob and I am eager to never see him again. Well no, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Our R.A. had this idea to try and walk in each other's shoes, which I don’t know? It might not be the worst thing? My big idea was switching diets actually- honestly I’m just hoping if he ate more like me he’ll stop stinking up the dorm. I can dream at least. Literally though he just can’t go to the gym as often if he eats like me. If I'm lucky at the very least his deodorant will last longer, I cannot take another day of his b.o. seeping through the walls, ugh! Anyway, wish me luck! I’m sure this will be a breeze for me, he usually just eats junk anyway, hope he enjoys my salads~
Steve:
Andy that little fucker. He was being such a little bitch to James and now I’ve gotta eat his rabbit food for a week or lose this bet or whatever. Steve don’t lose tho. Lil twink’s gotta eat whatever I make him too and you can bet your ass I’m gonna make him match my macros if I’ve gotta starve myself like he wants. Fuck! This shit is going to absolutely tank my routine! I’ve gotta make Andy give up. I’m gonna go so hard on him he’ll have to hit weights if he doesn't want to blow up like a pig. Maybe then he’ll stop bitching any time I don’t fucking shower every time I get back home.
Tuesday March 22nd-
Andy:
My Lord! He is trying to kill me! I don’t know how anyone could consistently eat as much as he’s telling me to. I’m so bloated from all this food.. He looks so smug every time he tells me to keep eating, I’m sure he doesn’t eat like this. He’s just trying to break me but I’m not going to let him win this easy.
Ugh, I feel so bloated my pants are so tight on my waist. I didn’t think meat sweats were a thing but man I am needing to put on deodorant like twice a day now and I’m not even exercising. I will say that now that I’m eating so much, I don’t hate the idea of going to the gym. It’s been a while since I went but I should probably at least hit up the treadmill lest I get even more of a gut- maybe I’ll see if he wants to go tomorrow. This is all just an exercise to understand each other more after all, no need to make it a stupid competition like he wants eh~
Steve:
Fuck! I am so tired of Andy’s pussy-ass diet. I had absolutely no energy at the gym today, I told all my bros that I was just gonna take it easy but fuck! I really was working my ass off and I struggled to even meet a PR I set last week. It was supposed to be a push day and I didn’t even get a chest pump! Why the fuck am I still going. I’m abso-fucking-lutely not getting gains on his fuckin’ bitch-ass salads and oats.
Eatin’ like a fucking twink and the fucker has the nerve to ask to go to the gym with me tomorrow. I’ll make sure he regrets that >:) Gonna work him like a horse so he’ll throw in the towel! After feeling how sore actually working on yourself makes ya, he might actually learn something. I’ll turn in early so I can go all out and show him what a real man looks like.
Wednesday March 23rd-
Andrew:
Man! I totally get why Steven eats so much now~ I am absolutely raring to go and get this; He said I could go to the gym with him today! He even seemed like he wanted me to go with him! I feel like I have more energy than I’ve ever had before, I might even try some weights!! I don’t know but I’m so excited! It’s like I can feel my chest and biceps begging me to go and hit some iron haha! Or whatever those “bros” say~ I hope he’s got something good planned for lunch because I fuck Sorry! I just want to show him that I can do all this dude stuff too! I’m a man right? I guess all this protein is making me feel more like a man than usual idk. Either way though I’m ready to go! Hope we have some fun!
Steven:
That bitch’s fuckin’ fru fru salads are ruining my PR’s for sure! I bet he knew that when he begged me to take him to the gym today, knew it was the only time he could show off to me was when I’m so out of it. And he didn't! Just to be clear I could still wipe the floor with him even if I’m not at my A-game. Ugh, I do gotta hand it to the little fucker though. I KNOW he hasn’t even really set foot in a gym before but man. Beginners luck my ass, as soon as I showed him a technique he lifted like he’s been doing it his whole life! It’s like I could see his pecs and tris swelling up with each lift. Not that I was staring at the bitch or anything but he’s just I just need this fuckin’ diet thing to end so I can get back to my grind, I guess I wouldn’t hate taking him to the gym more often, would be hot to make a bitch into a bro Fuck! What am I writing, I just need to lift again.
Thursday March 24th-
Andrew:
Bro! Weird? Whatever, I am absolutely on fire! Steven’s diet is absolutely killer! I don’t know how it’s working so well but man I couldn’t care less, I felt like a pro in there! My coaches in school would always shit on me for not trying but man! I was barely trying yesterday but I could tell from the look on Steven’s face that I was acing it! I guess I’ll have to admit to him that he is definitely onto something with his macros but man, not until he gives up haha! Man, I need to chill haha, it’s not like I’m any stronger than I was Monday but man, looking at myself in the mirror it just seems like my clothes are just fitting better. Catching on my chest rather than my stomach y’know? I’ve never noticed that there is muscle on my arms before but man the way my sleeves are kinda hugging my biceps mm. I need to chill haha! Can’t use all my energy before hitting the gym again today!
OH! Also totally weird, I’ve had to shave twice this week! Once last night and then again this morning which is so weird! I’m not complaining though, it’s not like I wouldnt look hot with a beard right? Although my face is a little itchy already, my chest too? Whatever though haha! Time to head back to the grind lol!
Steven:
God!! Andy Andrew is being such an asshole! He’s clogging the sink shaving which I know he would so be on my ass if I had done that. Wait, he did get on my ass for shaving! But it hasn’t been a problem this week, it’s like I’m not even growing stubble for some reason? Probably from not working so hard at the gym, is that how that works? Whatever it’ll be over as soon as this stupid diet thing is. We’re halfway through now. Thank God! Because that fucking twink is starting to stink up the dorm which again!! He was such a little bitch all the time to me about that! It’s like he’s literally stopped using deodorant as soon as he started needing it! He’s never exerted himself in his life and now that his pits are sweating at all he’s suddenly allergic to hygiene, ugh! I saw last night too the fucker fell asleep with his head in his pit too so it’s not like he doesn’t know it.
It was a little surprising actually, cause I would’ve sworn he was hairless like one of those freak cats but man his pit was as thick as my pubes! Thicker maybe, uh? Man I wish I could get that image out of my head, it’s like the tuft was pushing out further each time he inhaled, man that’s kinda hot? Fuck! I swear this twink-ass diet is making me think like him too. I need to sneak to the gym later, without him. I cannot have him getting ahead even while I’m still on his chickenshit diet.
Friday March 25th-
Steven:
Ah!! That Little bitch! He was already at the gym when I got there! Ugh! It makes me want to punch a wall, or fight him. Or something I dont know! It’s just, he was lifting my body weight on the bench when he saw me, it was so ho ugh! It doesn’t matter what it was, I can’t stop thinking of that smug look on his face- what I would give to wipe it off… That absolute prick knew what he was doing. Ugh, speaking of pricks! He may as well have not been wearing shorts at all by how much his cock was showing through them.
I knew my meal prepping was fucking tight but man, I can’t believe hot its made him. It just really fucking turns me on, or no its such a turn on for chicks. Yeah. Whatever. I need this bet to end already. Clearly he’s totally obsessed with my lifestyle so he should just admit it already! Also, hate to say it, but to Andrew’s credit his diet ain't too bad either. I’d never tell him this, and it is all a little emasculating but my skin has never looked this good. I’m not even doing skincare or anything but it’s like I��ve been on a routine for years, it’s crazy! It’s still ruining my upper gains but man, my ass looks so good it's crazy..
Oh also re: facial hair, I woke up this morning and could’ve sworn I used to have chest hair but now it looks like I’ve got just a little left around my nipples and leading up from my pubes? I might go ahead and shave those too, might as well be totally smooth like a chick right haha, I wonder what Andrew would think? I need to chill haha, maybe I’ll go see if he’s still at the gym~
Andrew:
Fuuuuck dude lol. I should’ve started hitting up the gym ages ago. Don’t know what I was even wasting time on before I started doing twice-a-days? Studying I guess but I can figure that shit stuff out hm. Fuck it is so much better to be strong than a dweeb. Every set it feels like I’m just busting out new PR’s! Gonna need to buy new clothes though cause I am absolutely tearing up my crop tops, my twinky little wardrobe just isn’t cutting it anymore. Maybe Steven’d be down for a clothes swap, I’ve seen him eying up my fits all week, god knows he’ll fit them better lol. Oh haha, and speaking of him eying things up >:) You should’ve seen his little face blush when he walked into the gym this morning! He looked so pissed at me lol, but I’m not gonna grab him to come along every time I need to get some sets in right? It was pretty embarrassing for him yesterday anyway, the way I showed him up lol. I’m not just gonna sit around and watch him not lift weights when I can figure this shit out myself, thought it was supposed to be his thing though lol.
Mm, saying that though, I def didn’t hate having a little audience from his treadmill. God, his blushing face as he stared directly at my work-out chub. Fuck, it really got me going. It really helped my sets too haha. Maybe I should hit him up lol, I can tell how bad he wants me >:)
Saturday March 26th-
Stevie:
Ugh! That douche is walking around the dorm completely shirtless! Do you know what it’s like to have an oaf flexing away across the room from you 24/7! He knows what he’s doing, and thank god my dick isn’t showing through my shorts like I thought it usually does because he might literally pounce on me then-
Ugh! I didn’t even mention this morning. I literally woke up to him jacking off his morning wood! Do you know what a bitch-fit he would have thrown if I did that! He would’ve filed a police report, probably the dweeb, or. I guess I could too?? But it was just so fucking hot. I tried to pretend I was asleep, but he totally caught me. He literally smirked and made eye contact as he finished too- thank god he didn’t see my boner as he asked if I wanted to clean up his mess. He’s such an ass!
I still have a boner now actually, it’s his B.O. driving me actually crazy! It’s like I can’t think near him if he’s going to stink this bad god.. Oh, he’s doing pullups on the door frame fuck. He’s supposed to be hairless but I see sweat dripping from his pits god I can't. God with each pull up his chest looks even more powerful. His cock is bobbing up and down in his pants and I can not look away. Fuck it’s getting even bigger. I’m supposed to be the strong one right? It’s not, fuck. This isn’t right. He just so fucking, god that body, I need him-
And Drew:
Heh. I knew that fucking twink couldn’t resist me. Every little thing I do wraps him even tighter around my finger. Every flex and smirk turns him on even more I bet he can’t even think straight the way his little dick is losing it in his briefs- I took all his jocks since I’m sure he would need them anymore. Bet the little bitch didn’t even remember they were his.
Might as well have been drooling when he saw me jacking my cock this morning lol, surprised he didn’t take me up on the offer to lick up the mess. I know he wanted to lol. He’ll get the chance soon enough though >:) God it’s a two-way street though. That fucking twink is so fuckable now, thank god he doesn’t need to shave anymore, don’t want his peachfuzz scratching my cock cause god that mouth is so fuckable now.. To say nothing of his fucking juicy ass, god! I’ve been working out in the room all morning waiting for him to give in and ask me to fuck him, idk if I can hold it in much longer. I might need to jack it again, my balls are bluer than I ever thought they could be, fuck. It’s like they're sore. Ugh I feel them getting heavier, heh, that little fucker cant resist though. God I feel precum starting to pool in my jock. If I put my pit within a foot of his face I give him five before he can’t help but shove his face in. I need to fuck him, but as if I’m going to let him see how desperate I am. Stevie that little fucker. He’ll be riding my cock any second now.
Sunday March 27th-
Stevie:
Fuck <3 !! He finally fucked me!! God, it was like nothing I’ve experienced before~ His cock was like a beer can and goddd the scratch of his beard as we were making out.. Hehe if I keep thinking about him I might just cum again right now! He can fully toss my body like a ragdoll and I’d thank him ugh! He’s just so hot, and to think he wants to fuck me!! Ah~ I’ll need to keep myself pretty so he won’t get tired of me hehe! Not that it’ll be a problem, I just need to keep on his diet, God who knew it would be this good! I don’t even remember whatever problems we had before all this and I can’t imagine anything better than getting fucked by him <3 Ah! He he~ He’s staring at my ass right now so I guess it’s time for another round! Can’t thank our R.A. enough for this idea, well he he I’ve got an idea for how to thank him, oh! Drew’s ripped off his jock! Wish me luck he he~
Drew:
My little bitch is so tight, fuck. I’m surprised he can even take my cock but god can he ride it. Gonna have a hard time taking a break from fucking him to even hit the gym. Need to make sure the twink keeps up the diet tho or we’ll have an issue. Be sure to make him come to the gym whenever I do, if not to tighten up then to watch me heh. Won’t hate fucking him in the locker room too. Mm, God his fucking tiny body makes me feel so powerful. And I fucking am. God my bis are the size of his thick thighs, fuck his ass. My cock is straining my jock just thinking about it. His tiny waist ugh, I need my sweaty body over him now. Not like he’ll mind, the horny fucker. Mmm hope he’s ready to take my cock, bet his mouth is already watering heh. Pop my pecs at him and he’ll struggle not to cum on the spot, he better keep it together until I let him though. Can’t be having my bitch blow his load that fast. Thank fuck he’s chilled out finally, though I guess my cock’ll work wonders on anyone >:) speaking of it’s about that time again. Hope he’s ready for some more action, hate to have to find another hole.
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spoilers for 2.1 !!!!!!!
aventurine rant, please keep in my mind that these are my own thoughts and interpretations. im extremely sleep deprived lol so im sorry if i got anything wrong
something thats been on my mind since yesterday are these lines.
from the start to me, it was very clear aventurine had self esteem/worth issues because of how he treats his own life, but the line that says “the other hand is below the table, clutching your chips for dear life” stuck out to me.
i always assumed aventurine was so incredibly confident in his luck but in reality he is afraid. he’s terrified that he’ll lose. it’s an act. he convinces himself, he fools himself, he forces himself to act like he’s confident he’ll win, when in reality even if he does win, he’s still clutching his chips under the table for dear life because of how terrified he is of losing.
that really messed with me to be honest. i feel tricked and what’s ironic is that he tricks his opponents into thinking he’s confident, and he also tricked ME the player but really, this made my heart break in two because i had absolutely no clue up until now.
so why does he act this way
all throughout his life, aventurine has had his pride stripped away. just try to imagine being in his shoes. i myself do not think i could deal with the situations he was put in. i cannot stress this enough, aventurine has a mark on his neck that screams to him that he has once belonged to someone. he has had his pride stripped away from him countless times. but it’s ironic because aventurine is introduced as a very prideful and flashy man. you start to realize the front aventurine puts on is his own way of protecting himself. it’s how he’s able to live basically. i wanna go into more detail but i will later.
as it was said before, aventurine is an uptight person who worries. he is extremely afraid of losing and he has a massive inferiority complex. aventurine may seem like a go lucky person on the outside, but in actuality he is not. he is not happy. he has no self worth, he believes he has nothing to live for, and he has no problem with throwing his life away. aventurine believes the only good thing he brings to the table is his luck.
but this brings me to my next point.
aventurine may not realize it, but he is so much more than his luck. he has so many good qualities and he doesn’t seem to realize it. even if some of it may be an act, he’s still able to pull it off. he’s still an intelligent business man who is both charming and cunning EVEN if it may be an act, those are still amazing qualities to have in his line of work.
but more importantly, aventurine chose to live. despite witnessing his family die, being a slave, and tortured, he chose to live. he chooses to. i cannot stress this enough. this man has gone through hell and back. he truly has had an incredibly difficult life to the point where my heart hurts so so badly for him. he made the decision to stay alive.
that says more than enough about his character.
and last but not least, aventurine wants one thing, and that is to be with his family. he’s witnessed horrible things in his life that no one should ever go through. he lost everyone close to him, he lost his people. he has nothing to live for and he values his life so little to the point where he has no problem with dying. the only real thing that he wants is just to see his family.
and he will one day, but in the meantime, i genuinely hope this man can find a reason to live, and ratio already gave him one just by that note. i just truly wish aventurine happiness while he lives the rest of his life.
i guess this is a topic that really hits me hard because i know all too well that choosing to live life isn’t easy sometimes and i just love aventurine.
let’s all appreciate how truly amazing his character is.
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visions are seldom all they seem
an: warning for a hint of dubcon hidden in amongst tommy's memories
They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.
That's a fucking fairytale if he's ever heard one. Tommy's had enough friends brought back from the brink, enough experiences of his own, to know that it's a crock.
When you die, you...die. You're there, and then you're not.
Tommy's legs are pinned, and there's smoke filling the cabin, and the last thing he'd said to Evan before he walked out the door was "Tell your father thank you, but I'm happily involved with a younger man."
There's something poetic about all of this, Tommy thinks, as he watches Garrett stumble to his feet, just beyond the door he'd managed to break loose to Tommy's left. Tommy hates poetry. Not necessarily as a general rule, but there's a lot of pretentious shit out there, and this feels pretentious. Maybe that's just the smoke inhalation.
"Kinard!"
Garrett's coming around the other side, lopsided and limping, but still pushing.
Thank fuck they hadn't been carrying passengers. He's pretty sure one of the blades had sliced clean through the hull behind him. He can't really look - there's something caught in his belt, pinning his back to the seat, and he's got one arm too fucked to reach for the blade strapped to his hip, and another that wouldn't reach if he tried. He's losing blood, he's losing time. He's done the math.
"Kinard!" Garrett's not having much luck with Tommy's door, which makes sense. The landing skid had done good work with the whole right side of the bird. Tommy's pretty sure the aftermath of that piece of work is the reason he can't move his fucking legs.
There are tools, somewhere nearby, that might have been useful, if Tommy hadn't used Garrett's clear concussion against him in an effort to get Garrett the fuck out.
It's funny, though. Funny that this is the way he goes. Not in the initial crash, which they'd somehow both survived. Not even from the blood loss, though Tommy guesses the coroner will have something to say about that being a mitigating factor. Probably won't even be the fire, which Garrett seems to have banked, a bit, with the extinguisher he'd scrounged from - somewhere. No. Four tours and a dozen plus years as a firefighter and it's the smoke that's gonna get him.
The windscreen is cracked. If Tommy wasn't in the midst of dying, he'd probably be thinking up the most professional way to tell his superiors that his windscreen isn't supposed to fucking spiderweb out like that, but -
Garrett's got the extinguisher in hand again, which is a nice thought, except he'd watched him drain it earlier. But he's not -
Tommy flinches when the canister makes contact with the windscreen and it cracks a little more.
He wishes he'd texted something better to Evan than a thumbs up emoji in response to his "Be safe" text. Gonna look real fucking ironic in a few minutes, here.
The glass webs out further when the canister makes contact again, and over the crackle as the flames kick back up, Tommy realizes that Garrett's yelling at him. Has been, for a while now, most likely. He can't really hear it, or contextualize it, but he's definitely yelling.
Something cracks. A few shards of glass sprinkle on down towards his knees. Garrett's voice gets louder. "--uckley's gonna kill me if I fuck up your pretty blue eyes, fuckhead, so close them right fucking now, Kinard!"
It's not like he has anything better to do than take orders. He follows his instructions.
The windscreen doesn't shatter - it's built not to - but a second later Garrett's got something wedged into the seal, tearing at it now that the things mangled enough not to be airtight, and Tommy isn't sure where he'd gotten a crowbar, or how the fuck he'd climbed the nose with a bum leg, but he's a little glad he'll be too dead to get the lecture from Garrett's wife on making sure his copilot doesn't do dumb shit.
"-kill you to - little leverage wouldn't - 'mon Kinard - 'mme something to work -"
Tommy's flagging. He can't really breathe, anymore. There's chance the impact shattered a rib or two.
The windscreen actually folds, under the leverage from outside, but Garrett still doesn't know Tommy's pinned. He'd have had a better chance if Garrett had just worked the fire, but Tommy doesn't plan to tell him that. As it is, he sucks in smoke and blinks through the haze as Garrett folds the windscreen farther back. "Hold on, Kinard!"
Tommy laughs. "Not going anywhere," he says, which aren't the last words he'd have chosen for himself, an hour ago, but - seems fitting, anyway. He gets a feeble cough out, and then things go blurry.
"Fuck you, Tommy," isn't the last thing he ever expected to hear, either, but - well. Today's been FUBAR since he took the chopper up, so.
Fuck you, Tommy it is.
---
The field behind his grandparents house is loud, in the soggy twilight - frogs and crickets and cicadas, a cacophony of noise.
Oh, Tommy's absolutely gonna be pissed if all his friends just didn't get far enough into dying for the flashbacks. It's not like he could have asked any of the ones who'd actually kicked the can, of course, and Tommy'd never been actually all the way dead before. Just - on the brink.
This isn't anything like Evan had described.
Tommy turns. And there's nonna, in her sapphire blue muumuu, flicked with gold trim, grey hair permed within an inch of its life. He can smell the romas she must have brought in from the sun at dusk, and the espresso poured into her fancy china next to her porch chairs - a rocking chair he'd never had a chance to fix up for her before she'd been gone, the Adirondack he'd stopped fitting into when he sprouted six inches the summer between sophomore and junior year.
Nonna grins.
Tommy watches a firebug flit by him.
He blinks, and Nonna raises an eyebrow at him - the same way she'd done the first time he tried to lie about where he'd gotten the bruise on his chin, or why his knuckles were scabbed over, or what he thought of the model on her favorite set of dog eared bodice rippers.
Tommy isn't sure what he could possibly be lying about right now, but he doesn't get a chance to ask. Between one blink and the next the night, the frogs, and Nonna's back porch are gone.
---
Tommy fucking hates Dorian Gray. The reasons had changed, over the years, but even more than being wedged into this fucking deathtrap of a desk, with it's lose nuts and bolts and the arm on the wrong side of his fucking body (because Tammy Pritchard always got the lefty desk in every fucking class and not a single one of his teachers had ever thought to wonder why his handwriting on his homework had better penmanship and an incredibly unsubtle smear of ink when compared to his in-class assignments): even more than the scent of Heather Chester's perfume and the reek of weed and Cheetos coming off of Barry Trott, in the seat in front of him; even more than the squeak of chalk against the blackboard as Mrs. Henderson posits the question of the day (What is so horrifying about the painting?); Tommy hates this fucking book.
He sort of wishes this memory had taken him back to freshman year instead - at least he could articulate why Holden Caulfield had been a whiny little bitch.
It's not like he could say -
Well.
Actually.
This is Tommy's death rattle. So.
"It's a mirror," Tommy says, like he hadn't all those years ago. No one notices that Tommy's a few decades too old and more than a few inches too wide to fit in his desk. "It's an indictment on everyone who ever had a hand in creating such a beautiful monster."
Mrs. Henderson doesn't look up. Tommy doesn't know why he expected she would.
She'd never listened to him before, either.
---
He'd been expecting his dad, next, which is his own damn fault.
Captain Turner's zipping his pants back up.
Tommy rises from his knees.
The paperwork is there on his desk. A glowing recommendation for the flight training he's been denied twice already. Tommy's throat feels gummy. He can't remember when Turner stopped using condoms.
This isn't how it happened.
"Open your eyes, Kinard."
Tommy's eyes are already open.
---
"I'm proud of you, son," Gerrard says, and Tommy would very much prefer it if he was just dead, already.
The thing is - the thing is Gerrard looks genuinely pleased to see him - a rare enough thing in general, rarer still because this is the older Gerrard, the one he'd shut the fuck down in front of the very first chance he'd been given to tell him exactly how rank Tommy really thought he was.
"You know when to give up," Gerrard continues. And.
Oh.
Well.
Did he have a choice?
"Of course there's a choice. Make the right one. Keep on making it, Kinard."
---
Pain.
Christ. Tommy's had shrapnel under his skin for decades, now - he's been blown up, and shot, stabbed once, although that was a grazing blow, really.
This is so much worse. He feels like he's hemorrhaging, like his lungs are constricting, like -
"You're no son of mine."
Yeah. That'd been worse than the IED by far.
"Dad," he says, but the damage is done. His room is in shambles, which Tommy thinks is overkill - his dad'd probably found the Blueboy Tommy had tucked under the mattress a long while before he had swept all his football trophies off the shelf and emptied what looked like the entire contents of his wardrobe onto the floor.
On the plus side, it looks like he'd actually ripped his annotated copy of Picture of Dorian Gray in half, too, so small favors.
Only.
This hadn't happened. This was his nightmare scenario, the horrific dream he'd had every day for six years until he got out of basic and the nightmare scenarios turned physically violent, instead. If his dad had ever known an inkling of Tommy's inclinations he'd ignored it until the day Tommy made him stop ignoring it.
He'd never found his dirty magazine - just the one, because he'd been too fucking terrified of having a second one lying around somewhere.
Those words he'd reserved for something else entirely.
His dad had thrown a bitch fit when Tommy'd enlisted in the Army instead of the Marines, but those words - those were the words he'd gotten when the father he hadn't spoken to in three years learned that Tommy'd gone for turnouts instead of a gun and badge.
How do you emulate your father and rebel at the same time?
"Love you too, pops," Tommy says, and waits for the blink.
---
"Oh," Tommy says, and blinks open his eyes. Keith smiles back. It's a charming little grin, the first thing that had caught Tommy's eye across the bar three months before this night. And it's not - the room is all wrong, and it'd been midday, not evening, six hours between shifts and the first time their schedules lined up in weeks. Keith is all lithe muscle and smeared makeup, barely an hour out from his latest shoot.
"Don't say it," Keith says, and shifts his weight against sheets that aren't even the right color.
Tommy had wanted to say it, though. Thirty-odd years and he'd never had the courage to say it to anyone who might say it back in a meaningful way, but Keith -
They'd been all wrong for each other. Conflicting schedules, conflicting lifestyles, conflicting expectations. Keith would spend the next six months flying back for hookups, jet setting around the world on a campaign for Dolce & Gabanna, and then text Tommy to let him know he should get tested and never reach out again. Tommy would fly his chopper over the aftermath of a tsunami and wonder how it felt to drown.
The hands on his skin are wrong - rough with calluses, working hands. Tommy slides his thumb across the palm of one and thinks it feels like home.
"Don't go back to sleep," Keith says. There's something playing on Tommy's TV, which had never been in his room when he was with Keith.
That had been a recent development, actually, and technically it wasn't even his TV, but when Evan's lease had been up it had just made sense to the both of them to -
"Monster truck rallies, really?" Keith says, but the volume on the TV is too loud to make out what he says next. His mouth moves, and the words don't make it to Tommy's ears, and when he blinks again he thinks he can hear sirens.
---
The chicken barely moves as Bobby passes it off to Officer Grant, and there's some sort of significance to this moment, Tommy knows, but Sal is too busy making smooching faces at Tommy, his laugh deep and bracing, for Tommy to figure out what that significance is.
Eddie is staring at him from the passenger seat when he swings up into the rig.
"You need to come back," Eddie says, and that stupid fucking mustache twitches. "You stupid bastard, you have to come back."
---
"Just like that?" Tommy asks, staring at the transfer papers, and Nash looks at him like he knows too much.
"Have you changed your mind?"
Tommy's uses his middle and ring finger to pull the transfer papers closer to himself. Bobby hums, satisfied. "Good. I've got my eye on one of the new kids in training - hate to pass up on him."
Tommy shakes his head. "You still haven't replaced Sal. Who's even gonna train this new guy?"
Bobby's in his civvies. He's holding his rosary beads. Did he start out like that, or is this death knell just fucking with him now? "Not your time, yet," Bobby tells him, and Tommy doesn't -
---
"Just a little something I learned at the 118," Donato says with a grin, while Jerry eyes the blown up photo of Tommy and Evan kissing in the hospital lobby that's been hung up on the announcement board right next to Jill's kids butterbraid order sheet. One of the nurses must have taken it. Donato must have bribed one of the nurses to take it on the ride to the hospital. "We're, like, a base and a half away from wiener cousins, you know," she sing-songs, and Tommy tilts a raised brow her way.
He's still staring at the picture. When had Evan's hand made it that far into his turnout?
"I'm just saying, having been on the your end of those lips - congrats."
"Does it smell like smoke in here to you?" Jerry asks, and Tommy tries to swallow, tries to respond, but there's something stopping him from -
---
"Hey," Evan says. He's on nonna's rocking chair. The cicadas and the frogs are loud, against a backdrop of misty fields. It still smells like sundried tomatoes, but there's an antiseptic scent underneath it. There's a firebug perched on Evan's birthmark. "I'd, uh, really hate it if the last conversation we ever had was about my dad's weird obsession with you."
Tommy would also hate that. He goes to say so and can't speak. His chest is on fire, and his leg feels like it might give out if he takes a step forward. Evan's too far away, but he can still feel the calluses on Evan's fingers on his wrist, steady against his pulse.
"So, if you could just. If you could just open your eyes. Twitch your fingers. Um. I have a ring, and a speech, but I'd settle for like, you waking up to tell me you're leaving me for Andrew Garfield."
He's thinking of Andrew Lincoln, but Tommy can't get his throat to work to tell him so, or to remind him that Tommy actually hates that plot in Love Actually. Now Colin Firth...
The fingers slide from his pulse point to his ring finger. His leg screams. The cicadas drown out whatever Evan says next.
---
The lights in this room are too fucking bright. It smells of sterile metal and the cedarwood soap Evan uses. His hand is stuck to the bed.
"Tommy."
Tommy's pretty sure he's imagining the firefly perched on Buck's brow as he slides into his sight line, but the rest of him is real, and solid - his ridiculous fade and the curls askew atop his head and the slow blooming smile across his face, the hand sliding up his arm and the suddenly wet corners of his eyes.
"ey," he says, or tries to say - it comes out as croaky as the frogs that'd guided him through whatever strange dream he'd been having. He's losing the edges of it already, trying to grasp details even as they slip way. Evan's going to be so fucking disappointed they can't trade coma dream stories.
Evan hovers while a nurse looks him over, demanding ice chips from someone out in the hallway, and Tommy can't stop looking at him. He'd been dead. He'd been sure this was it, this time.
Tommy gets three ice chips down before he's allowed to speak.
"Why's the chicken important?" Which is - great. They've got him hooked up to good drugs. He'd meant to start off with the basics - I love you, and don't propose to me in a hospital room I know it's a Buckley special but I'd like to limit our significant moments here until they actually dedicate a wing in your honor. "Did Eddie shave the mustache while I was out?"
Jesus Christ.
Evan's laugh is wet, and his hand is wrapped around the cup of ice chips, instead of around Tommy's, which seem unnecessarily cruel.
"I love you," Evan says.
They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes. Evan informs him, eventually, that he'd crashed twice on the med-evac and been gone for a total of one minute eighteen seconds ("There's no significance to that. A coincidence," Tommy tells him. Evan doesn't fight him on it. Not then, anyway.) The flashing thing is still a crock of shit. Tommy's lost most of it before Evan gets around to 'you'.
Tommy finally gets Evan close enough to grasp his hand - slide his finger over the rough pad of his thumb, dig a nail into the forking lifeline in his palm. "Hey," he says, when Evan's grip goes tight, and tears well up in his eyes again. "Were you watching monster trucks while I was out?"
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Astrology Observations 5
One thing I've noticed with Gemini Moons is that while they do love to talk to people and share their thoughts, if they aren't interested in the conversation's topic or if you stay on one topic for too long, they tend to zone out. If they aren't very invested in the convo at hand it will be VERY noticeable (e.g. blank stares, they suddenly go very quiet, dry repetitive responses, checking their phone frequently).
The same can be said for individuals with a lot of Air in their charts in general, especially Gemini and Libra. It can be hard to keep these individuals attention for prolonged periods of time. They like to cut to the interesting part so keep what you have to say very brief and to the point.
Not something Leo Moons are known for, but that I've noticed is that they can be really good at analyzing peoples behavior. Like, they'll see how someone acts and can make connections to their own behavior to understand some elses emotions and feelings. It's how many Leo Moons relate to people, bonus points if their Moon is in a water house!
In your Natal chart, if your ruling planet 's transit is in opposition or square with your natal ruling planet's sign, it can indicate a period of bad luck and hardship. It may feel like the world is against you at the moment, especially if said aspect is in a less than 5° orb. Not a great transit aspect to have.
For example, My ruling planet is Jupiter (Sag Rising) and it's in Scorpio at 9°. IRONICALLY ENOUGH, in my Solar Return chart for this year, Jupiter is in Taurus at 9°. So I'm expecting a lot to happen this year. Later on this year I'll make an update on this aspect.
If you have Scorpio or Pisces in your SR top 3 this year, don't take this lightly!! Like I said in my last post with manifestations, this will be a year that your manifestation power is at an all time high! You may literally speak things into existence, for better or for worse.
On the topic of Scorpio/Pisces SR top three, my advice for this (and I'm speaking from experience) is try to think about things you want to happen, not things you don't want or like. For example, if you think about how much you don't like a certain person, later on down the line you may find yourself suddenly coming back in contact with that person a lot more, when either you wanted to or not.
People with Cancer personal placements, I'd advise you to frequently check the Moon's transit and positions! Whenever it's the full or new moon, keep tabs on what happens those days and how you feel. Let me know in the comments anything interesting that's happened to yall during those times!
I've said this once and I'll say it again, Scorpio Mars are some of the most PERSISTENT people I've ever seen. When it comes to their desires, NOTHING stands in their way. However this can be detrimental if it's bad habits like drinking, smoking, stealing, ect. One way or another they will get what they want, even if it costs them everything. These people can truly be the victim of their own desires. Honorary mention- Taurus Mars.
Listen, if you ever need someone to promote your music, call an Aquarius Venus/Dominant person. I swear to god these people listen to the most obscure, outta pocket things I've ever heard.
Taurus 6th/5th housers tend to be those people at work that live by the slow and steady motto. They don't like to rush and do a sloppy job on whatever their working on.
On the other hand, Aries 6th/5th housers may be very fast workers, and it usually works well for them, works well under pressure. not the most thorough people but for the most part they get the job done.
People with a lot of Gemini and Leo placements in their chart tend to give off Aries energy.
Capricorn and Scorpio relationships are literally ride or die. I know a couple with many of these placements and they are so possessive of each other. Even after heated arguments and many hardships, they always come back together and work out their issues, it's really sweet!
When in an awkward situation, Libra Risings tend to try and break the tension first. Sometimes they can make the situation more awkward doing this but they're always the ones to bring the vibes back to the way they were, so I appreciate it. Gemini Risings may also do this but can be slightly more unhinged in their methods. I love both regardless for it😭💕.
The reason puberty for all of us hits hard is because it's around this time that Saturn is usually in the sign opposite from our Saturn sign. It makes a lot of sense when you think about it, itcchanges a lot of what we focus on and introduces us to new struggles. Although with Saturn retrograde, the age of which these changes can affect us can range from 13 all the way up to 25. Saturn is trying to toughen us up before we become adults.
What your Rising Sign's season is may be the season/months you prefer. For example, I'm a Sagittarius Rising and I tend to like late fall/early winter.
Your Moon sign can show how you process not just your emotions, but how you handle other peoples emotions, and how you relate to them. For example, a Leo Moon may relate to others by thinking of themselves in someone elses shoes, and how they would handle situations. While a Gemini Moon may relate other peoples emotions with stories from others that they've heard, and use what they've observed from other people to help others.
Venus PC Moon can also show this, I'd look at both sign's relationship to see the full picture of how one truly processes theirs and others emotions.
Moon/Pluto Aspects in someone's chart can show a relationship where however the mother treats the native, is how the native will end up treating her as they get older. For example, if the mother was negligent to the native in their younger years, then as they get older they will have a detached and impersonal attitude towards her. Basically the natives mirror how they were nurtured in youth.
"She say do you love me, I tell her only partly. I only love my bed and my mama I'm sorry." -Drake, a Cancer Moon.
People who say Gemini/Libra placements are indecisive have CLEARLY never met someone with many personal fire placements, especially if it's their top 3. Fire sign energy is naturally high and can be all over the place sometimes, this can include their thoughts and decision making as well, mostly concerning the direction of their passions and work. They may have a million ideas of what they're about to do but have trouble slowing down and planning it all out into managable chunks at a time. Will fight for what they want but may have trouble picking their battles wisely.
#astrology observations#astrovations#astro community#astrology#astro notes#moon astrology#venus astrology#8th house#mars astrology#rising signs#moon signs#ascendant#aspects#astro placements#astro observations#nitro nexus#astrology notes#lavishly leo#ibispaintx#reference sheet#persona#oc art#original character#oc sona#anthros anthem#dragon ball#dragon ball super#god of destruction#dbz oc#au
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Blood and...Balsam? -Oneshot
Word count: 4634
“Are you doing anything fun tonight?” Yelena asked nonchalantly as they did the clean up for the night.
“Nah,” Y/N shook her head, getting the coffee machine prepped for the next day. “Just going to enjoy my once in a lifetime weekend off.”
Yelena chuckled. It was pretty rare to get a whole weekend off while working at the diner. “Maybe you can find a cute Alpha to take the edge off?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, making Yelena laugh harder. “Oh please,” she groaned. “Don’t start that again.”
“Oh come on, Y/N,” Yelena smirked. “I can tell your heat is coming soon. And you haven’t had a partner to help you out for a long time. You’re gonna need something a little stronger than Mr. Boombastic in your side table drawer.”
Y/N laughed loudly at Yelena referencing her vibrator. “Ugh, remind me to never let you into my apartment again,” she said.
“I’ve seen how tall, dark and mysterious has been looking at you,” Yelena continued, not letting Y/N distract from the conversation. “All he ever gets is a cup of coffee and then an eyeful of you before he tips you way too much for just a cup of shitty coffee then leaves. Why not try flirting with him more?”
Y/N blushed but glared at Yelena for mentioning her regular. They didn’t know his name, and therefore he became “tall, dark and mysterious” because he was just that. He came in every morning at 7:00 a.m. sharp for one cup of straight black coffee. He wouldn’t let anyone serve him but Y/N. She didn’t know why, but he insisted on it, and she didn’t feel like asking questions. He was obviously an Alpha, she didn’t have to scent him to see it clear as day. Broody, moody, and quiet, but he made her day every time she’d greet him and he’d give her his signature smirk that he saved only for her and order the same thing, then say “Thanks, doll.”
“Leave him alone, Yelena,” Y/N said, feeling weirdly protective over him. “He obviously doesn’t want to be bothered.”
“Oh he’d love you to bother him,” Yelena raised her eyebrows suggestively. “The way he looks at you? Like he’d devour every inch of you if you’d let him? He’d let you bother him in every way possible. He wants some of that ass you’ve been lugging around!”
Y/N’s blush deepened at Yelena’s innuendos and referring to her being plus sized, but she rolled her eyes again and went back to closing out the register then gathering her things. “Just drop it, babes,” she sighed, shrugging on her coat and scarf and swinging her purse over her shoulder. She approached Yelena and hugged her, kissing her cheek before turning toward the door. “Lock up behind me, and be safe.”
“You first!” Yelena said as she came up and locked the door then waved to her through the glass.
Y/N waved then walked quickly down the street. The Autumn wind had set in over the last few days, making her cheeks already sting from the cold whipping against her face. She pondered on what Yelena said. Yes, it had been a long time since she’d had a partner, and if she were honest with herself, she felt romantically lonely. But every time she tried dating again she just had the most unfortunate luck with finding Alphas that were worth her time. They would make crude or disrespectful remarks about her size or her role as an Omega. She’d love a good fucking, but not by some hormone raging, misogynistic Alpha with his head up his own ass.
She was about to pass by an alleyway when she looked down and saw spots of blood. She stopped in her tracks, lightly gasping as she stared at the spots with wide eyes. The blood created a trail down the alleyway and beyond what she could see in the dark. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see, then heard a soft groan behind what looked like a dumpster a good twenty feet in. Her senses dialed up in anticipation and fear, and she could smell the tangy mix of iron from the blood and…was that balsam?
Against her better judgment, she walked into the alleyway, pulling out her phone for the flashlight. She slowly approached the dumpster, and heard scuffling as her flashlight shone on two feet moving away from the offending light. “I’m not here to hurt you,” she said loudly. “Just to make sure you’re okay!”
The scuffling stopped, then a deep, heavy sigh made a cloud in the air. “I’m fine,” a man’s voice replied.
Y/N scoffed and walked around the dumpster, then froze. It was tall, dark and mysterious, huddled against the dumpster and holding a hand against the side of his head by his temple. Dried blood was caked in his hair and he peered up at her for a moment before closing his eyes and frowning. “Fuck,” he grunted.
“Oh my god, what happened?” Y/N asked, quickly kneeling down in front of him and putting her phone flashlight side up on the ground so she could still see. Her hands moved to touch him, but at the last second stopped, just hovering over him and unsure of what to do.
“Nothing, doll, I’m fine,” he said, shaking his head and trying to move away from her. “Just had a rough night.”
Y/N looked him over to see if there were any other injuries before tentatively holding her hand up towards his head. “Can I see?” she asked gently. He looked at her suspiciously, narrowing his eyes for a moment before sighing again and nodding. He moved his hand away from his head, turning it to the side to let her see. Y/N raised her hand and moved some of his hair away to see a cut on his scalp near his hairline. It wasn’t too deep, the blood was already congealing to stop the flow, but the skin around it was bruised. “You should really get this checked out,” she said quietly.
“No doctors,” he huffed. “No hospitals.”
“Okay,” Y/N agreed quickly. “Fine. Then let me help you. I don’t live far from here, I can get you cleaned up at least.”
He stared at her, his eyes wide in surprise and his brow upturned. She held her hand out to him and his gaze flicked back and forth between her face and her hand for a moment before he reluctantly nodded. Y/N smiled at him as he took her hand, then she grabbed her phone and stepped back to help pull him off the ground. When he stood he let go of her hand and tried to walk, but stumbled after a few steps.
“Woah, hold on,” Y/N said, stepping forward and taking his arm, pulling it around her shoulders and winding one of her arms around his back. He looked like he was about to protest, but then he winced and his head leaned on top of hers. “Alright, this way,” she said, walking him out of the alley. There weren’t too many people out and about at that time, so they only got a couple of strange looks, and Y/N was grateful for living on the bottom floor when they reached her apartment building another block down. She guided him into the building and down to the left hallway, then dug her keys out of her coat pocket and unlocked her door and led him in and towards the couch nearby. He sat down with a huff and she turned to close and lock the door, then took off her coat and purse before walking down another hallway toward her bedroom and grabbing the first aid kit out of the linen closet. When she returned he was looking around her apartment intently.
“Alright,” she said, walking over to him and kneeling down in front of him, opening the first aid kit next to him on the couch. “Can you lean forward for me?”
His eyes were wide again at where she sat between his legs, but he inhaled slowly and moved himself to sit up. Y/N took out some disinfectant wipes and started wiping at the skin on his forehead and into his hair where the blood had dried, moving his hair in different directions to make sure she cleaned it well. She then grabbed a solution for cuts and then a small bandage and put them on the part of the wound that was near his hairline since she was unable to do more than that with his hair in the way. She desperately ignored his eyes on her, trying to focus on the task at hand. When she finished she double checked to make sure there wasn’t anything else to treat before meeting his gaze.
“All done,” she whispered.
He didn’t look away. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“Did you get hurt anywhere else?” she asked, once again attempting to ignore the way her blood raged in her ears from the way he was looking at her.
“No,” he shook his head. “Just my pride.”
Y/N chuckled, a wide smile breaking across her face. He seemed proud of the fact that he got her to laugh, his own smile lighting up his face.
“At least it’s just that,” she said. She didn’t really want him to leave. Normally being alone with an Alpha in the same room as her, an unmated Omega, would have sent her running, but she didn’t smell or sense any kind of weird shifts in his behavior toward her. “Um, are you hungry?” she asked, quickly standing and grabbing the first aid kit. “I can whip something up real quick. You still seem a little wobbly on your feet, it might help to steady you.”
“That sounds great, doll,” he said. “Thank you.”
Y/N got busy in the small kitchen just off the front room, pulling together random things she had in her fridge and pantry until she had a pseudo spaghetti dish prepped. She set it on the table with some water then walked over to the couch. He had gotten comfortable on her couch, his head leaning back against the couch cushion and his eyes closed. He was breathing heavily and she bit her lip, feeling bad about waking him up.
“Hey,” she said, nudging his knee with her hand. “Food’s ready.”
His eyes fluttered open and he looked at her tiredly. He nodded then tried to lift himself up, but grimaced again once he was standing. Y/N quickly wrapped an arm around his back again, leading him through the kitchen to the breakfast nook-dining room attached. She sat him down on one of the chairs and made sure he was set before sitting in the opposite one. “I hope a Frankenstein spaghetti dinner is okay,” she said, spooning the noodles into a bowl for him and sliding it across the table. “I need to go grocery shopping again.”
“Looks great,” he smirked at her. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” she smiled, then took a bite.
They ate in silence. Y/N couldn’t decide if it was comfortable or not, so she just kept eating. She glanced out the window by the table and frowned when she realized that year’s first winter storm was setting in. “Ah shit,” she whispered to herself.
He looked up from the food and followed her eye line, then groaned at the large snowflakes whizzing by the window. “You don’t have to worry about me,” he said. “I can get home.”
“Not in this,” Y/N gestured, looking at him incredulously. “You can sleep on the couch if you want.”
He shook his head. “I’ve already taken up too much of your time and hospitality. And how do you know I’m not some rut-drunk Alpha trying to have his way with you?”
Y/N frowned. “Are you?” She challenged him.
He stared at her again, an amused smile on his face. “No.”
He said it with such finality that she believed him. “Then stay,” she shrugged, standing up and taking her bowl to the sink before coming back to clean up the rest. “Though if you’re going to stay, I think that I should at least get your name?”
He swallowed his last bite and she grabbed his bowl. “James, but friends call me Bucky.”
“Are we friends?” Y/N asked, her own amused smile on her face this time.
“We must be,” Bucky said teasingly. “Cleaning me up, feeding me, giving me a place to stay? I’d say you’re a better friend than most of my actual friends are.”
Y/N laughed, walking back into the kitchen and starting to clean the dishes and put away the food. When she was finished she went back to the linen closet and pulled out some sheets, a pillow, an extra toothbrush and toothpaste, a towel, and then went into her room and grabbed some blankets she had stacked in a basket in the corner that she would use for her nests during her heats. They had been well cleaned, so she didn’t think much of it as she brought it all out and set up the pillow, sheets and blankets on the couch, then set the towel and the toiletries on the coffee table.
“Alright, well, it’s not some luxurious hotel, but I hope it’ll do,” she said, walking back into the dining room and helping him walk back out to the front room. He smiled at the bed she made for him, and she stepped off to the side. “Down the hall is the bathroom. If you need to shower you’re welcome to use my hair stuff, and I got you a toothbrush and toothpaste to use. If these aren’t warm enough just knock on my door and I can get you some more blankets,” she said quickly. “Uh…is there anything else I can help you with?”
Bucky smiled softly at her. “Yeah, you can tell me how it felt.”
“How what felt?” Y/N asked.
“When you fell from heaven,” he said, arching his eyebrow at her. Y/N’s eyes widened at the pickup line, then she burst out laughing. Bucky laughed with her, hanging his head into his hand and rubbing his face harshly. “That was terrible, I’m sorry,” he said. “Can we just blame the possible concussion I have and forget I said anything?”
Y/N wiped away at her eyes, covering her mouth as she tried to quiet down her laugh. “Sure,” she said while still giggling. “Well, goodnight Bucky.”
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said. She smiled again at him and how he remembered her name from the diner, then turned down the hallway to get ready for bed.
***
Y/N woke up in the middle of the night in a panic. She was sweaty and hot, her hair sticking to her forehead and neck. She wasn’t sure what it was that woke her up so suddenly, but then she felt a cramp wrack through her nether regions, and she gasped at the pain. For fuck’s sake, she thought. It was her heat. She reached toward her bedside table for Mr. Boombastic, but then tensed when the night’s events all rushed back in her memory. Bucky.
She had a slightly concussed Alpha sleeping in her living room. She sighed through gritted teeth. It would just be her luck that she would have the hottest Alpha she’d ever come across in her home right as her heat hit. Curse her bleeding heart in helping him. Y/N didn’t dare take out the vibrator, and instead tried to rock back and forth on her bed, breathing deeply and practicing the yoga she’d been working on for anxiety. Every time she felt like maybe she had a hold on it another cramp would broil in the pit of her stomach, her pussy absolutely throbbing and producing slick that coated her inner thighs uncomfortably.
Her throat dried up with how much she was trying to breathe through the cramps, and she was suddenly hit with a coughing fit. “No, please,” she wheezed. She didn’t want to go out of her room for a drink of water. She didn’t know Bucky. What if he woke up? What if he tried to do something? And then the errant thought, Wouldn’t you want him to do something? NO. No, that was the heat talking.
She couldn’t stop coughing, her eyes watering and her throat burning, so she gave up and tip-toed out of her room and down the hallway towards the kitchen. She glanced at Bucky, who still laid perfectly still on the couch, soft snores echoing in the living room. Y/N choked back another cough as she went to the fridge and opened it, grabbing a few water bottles. She opened one and chugged it, the cold water helping calm her aching throat. The cold tiled floor made her shiver and she turned to close the fridge door, then gasped. Bucky was looming over her. His breath was heavy, his nose flaring as he scented her, and he shut his eyes tight. His jaw ticked, and Y/N felt another pulse of slick ooze from between her legs.
“Dammit, doll,” Bucky whispered. “Seriously, your heat? Now?”
Her frustration boiled over at his tone. “It’s not like I can schedule it,” she sneered. “I’m sorry for waking you up, just let me—mmh,” she moaned. Her body was recognizing the Alpha nearby, and she shuddered in front of him. “Fuck!”
Bucky inhaled sharply, leaning his head back as his mouth dropped open and he licked his lips. “Holy shit,” he groaned. “You smell—”
“Don’t,” Y/N pleaded, embarrassment making her shrink away from him. “Just let me by, Bucky. I’ll take care of it.”
They stayed put, waiting for the other to react. Y/N wanted him, really bad, but she didn’t know him, and he didn’t know her. She had just barely learned his first name tonight, and had only ever helped him get a cup of coffee on every other encounter they had. Of course her body didn’t care about that. All it knew was that she was in heat, there was an Alpha nearby, and that the only thing that could help quell the pain was a thick, fat, juicy–
“You took such good care of me tonight, Y/N,” Bucky said, taking a small step toward her. She backed up into the counter behind her, dropping the water bottles in her arms that bounced and rolled away from them as they hit the floor. He leaned down and caged her against the counter with his arms, his face dipping to be eye level with her. His eyes focused on her lips for a moment before he met her gaze. “I wanted to do this right. Talk to you more at the diner, get your number, take you out on a few dates, get to know each other better. Then I got rocked at an enhanced fighters match and you found me and now…” he paused, nuzzling his nose along her cheek. “Let me take care of you.”
Y/N was being overwhelmed by his presence. The sheer size of him, his low voice, the yearning in his bright, blue eyes as he ogled her up and down, and his scent, the perfect mix of balsam and something a little spicy, was making her voice of reason fly out the proverbial window. Bucky leaned down a little further, ghosting his lips over her jaw and down her neck until he sniffed out her scent gland. He lightly kissed it, rubbing his nose along it and inhaling deeply as his teasing the gland produced a fresh wave of her scent. “Please, Omega,” he begged, his voice coming out more hoarse and wanton. “Let me have you.”
Y/N whimpered, then grabbed his face and brought him back up to kiss him. The second their lips met Bucky moaned, his arms enveloping her and bringing her as close to him as possible. She craned her neck up to keep kissing him, moaning with him as his hands began to explore over her body, his fingers squeezing every dip and curve in her flesh that he could find. Her body and mind were at war with each other, battling between what she wanted and what she needed. But when he broke the kiss so he could suck at her scent gland, all reasonable thought left the room.
Bucky leaned down and picked her up, surprising her with how easily he lifted her and started walking toward her bedroom. He kicked her door open and dumped them both on her bed, adjusting them into the middle of the mattress before he began stripping her of her sleep dress and then ripping her underwear off, making her yelp. “Look at you,” he murmured, his eyes raking over her hungrily. “God, this body. Do you know why I only wanted you to serve me at the diner?” Y/N shook her head, her hands pulling at his shirt that he quickly shrugged off. Her eyes vaguely registered his metal arm before he continued to speak. “Because I just had to get a look at the way that uniform fits you,” he smirked. “Every time I’d get home I’d have to fuck my own fist just to get rid of the hard on you gave me.”
Y/N whined at his filthy words. “Bucky…”
“Yes, doll, say my name just like that,” he moaned, his eyes rolling back. His hands were everywhere, massaging and caressing her all over as her fingers fumbled with his pants, trying to push them down. He helped kick them and his underwear off, then gripped his cock in his metal hand and rubbed it through her slick. “Is this all for me?” he mumbled, looking like he was getting lost in the pleasure of just looking at her.
“All yours, Bucky,” Y/N breathed, her hips trembling at the feeling of his tip nudging between her pussy lips. “Please, Alpha, I can’t–”
Bucky violently shivered above her. “Fuck!” he nearly barked, then thrust into her in one roll of his hips. Y/N’s back arched, her mouth agape in a silent scream with the feeling of him completely filling her sopping pussy almost undoing her. She hadn’t had an Alpha to help her through a heat in a long time, but even when she had they had never been able to stretch and fill her like Bucky did. “Oh my god!” he whispered, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes tight. Every muscle in his body looked tense, like he was afraid that if he moved he would lose it. “How? How do you have the most perfect cunt? Gonna make me pop my knot too early, doll.”
Y/N couldn’t answer him. Her mind was blinded by pleasure, her pussy already pulsing around him and creating mini orgasms fluttering through the lower half of her body. Bucky’s hands let go of her hips and moved to grasp her wrists and push them above her head. “Keep your hands up for me,” he instructed. She barely nodded as his flesh arm dug under her neck and his metal hand dug under her lower back, keeping her body flush with his. “Let me hear you, Omega,” he said lowly, then he started to thrust his hips into her.
Y/N’s hands gripped the pillows above her head, her ankles hooking behind his ass as he bounced her on his cock repeatedly. She wasn’t sure what noises she was making anymore, but they seemed to drive Bucky on. He would minutely change position every time he would find something new that would make her whimper and moan or get louder, like he was searching for the perfect combination to pull her apart. Not that he needed to, she was already at his mercy with how he completely covered her, his cock making her eyes continually roll and her head loll at the perfect drag and fill he gave her.
His knot was beginning to swell, catching inside her and making his thrusts lose their pace. “I’m gonna fuck you full of me, Omega,” he huffed in her ear.
“Please,” Y/N begged, her hands moving to his head, scratching through his hair except for the part she had cleaned up earlier.
“Make this pussy mine,” he said, kissing all over her face and swallowing her responding moan.
“Yours,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.
“My Omega,” he said, staking his claim as he lightly bit her bottom lip.
“Yes! My Alpha!” Y/N cried out at the sting from his teeth.
“Yeah I’m yours, all yours Omega,” Bucky chuckled. “Can I claim you, doll? Can I bite this pretty neck and make you mine? All…mine.” His words were punctuated with his thrusts, and Y/N could feel herself almost falling off the ledge of her pleasure.
She moved her head to the right, exposing her neck to him. “Mark me,” she rasped, her voice starting to give out from how much she had been babbling. “Take me. Fill me with your pups, Bucky. Alpha please, I need it!”
“That’s fucking right,” Bucky said. His lips mouthed at her scent gland, licking and sucking at it. Her scent burst forth again, surrounding them both and permeating the room, and Bucky rubbed his wrist scent gland against her neck to make them both mix, creating a perfect combination of balsam, spice, citrus and berry. “Mine,” he growled, then he bit into her neck.
Y/N screamed, the pain making the pleasure that much stronger so her pussy spasmed on his cock, cumming hard against him. Bucky whimpered against her neck, his knot fully inflating inside her as he came, filling her up so much that she could feel their blended cum oozing from between them and down her ass. Her vision went white, and she fell limp against the bed from the overstimulation of all things purely Bucky.
A short time later Bucky unlatched his teeth from her neck, licking at the wound he created and kissing gently. He carefully moved them both to lay on their sides to be comfortable until his knot deflated. She was tucked under his right flesh arm that was rubbing her back soothingly while his metal hand continued to feel over her curves, like he was committing her to memory, randomly prolonging her pleasure by kneading her breasts and playing with her nipples. His kisses never stopped, starting with soft pecks and then sucking on her skin, leaving love marks and bruises across her neck, chest, and breasts as far down as he could reach. Y/N’s arm was slung around his waist, her other arm tucked underneath herself. She could barely respond to his more passionate kisses, lazily opening her mouth and letting him taste her, suckling on his tongue before he would move down or across her face again.
“You did so well, Omega,” he praised her, his low voice and sweet words making her preen. “Took me so well. Do you feel that, doll?” His metal hand flattened against the pit of her plushy stomach, where it was slightly more chubby than usual. “You’re gonna be dripping me for days. You look so pretty stuffed full of me.”
Y/N hummed, her pussy pulsing around him at the thought of it. “Alpha,” she breathed, her voice shot from how loud she screamed.
“Such a good girl. Such a perfect Omega,” he said, kissing her lewdly again. “And you’re all mine.”
#marvel#bucky barnes#smut#bucky barnes x reader#ask#request#anon ask#oneshot#bucky barnes oneshot#abo#alpha!bucky barnes#omega!reader#alpha!bucky barnes x omega!reader
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Wondering if you have any thoughts on the symbolism of “our mother of victory” line between the siblings. Not sure if it has any meaning behind just reflecting their (probably) catholic upbringing, but I don’t trust anything in this show to not have further meaning so wondering what smarter minds out there mean…
Our Mother of Victory, Pray for Us
The root of this is in the saying Our Lady of Victory, Pray for Us, which comes from a battle that the Catholics won against the Ottoman Turks. It is often used as a prayer before big event, Notre Dame football team says it before football games for good luck. Adding mother instead of Lady places their mother, Donna, in comparison to a literal Saint, the Virgin Mary. Which is ironic and part of their inside joke because as we know she is far from a Saint.
But I actually think this is a reference to a John Hughes movie called The Great Outdoors, a movie about bear attacks believe it or not. In the opening scene the say Our Lady of Victory, Pray for Us.
We already know Chris Storer has said Hughes movies are a big source of inspiration, specifically in season 2. He included songs from movies like Pretty in Pink, National Lampoons Vacation, and he even gave Kevin McCalliper McCallister from Home Alone a shout out.
Yes. Even more Bears and Fish. So bear with me.
The Great Outdoors is about a family from Chicago that goes on a trip to a cabin and the mother's sister and her husband, who they don't really get along with, invite themselves on the trip. At the start of the movie the dad tells them all a scary story about a man eating bear that he saw through the window and shot at but is still on the loose.
The Bear also starts off with a man going face to face with a bear. The bulk of the movie is about the two families not getting along, but by the end of it, the mythological bear appears and chases them into their cabin and attacks them, but they end up scaring it away and then they all get along and things work out between them.
The first Bear attack after their prayer was with Mikey and Donna
The second Bear attack was with Carmy
But this time, they were actually victorious. Because of Sydney. She managed to get the Bear away from them so they could keep going.
She is their miracle. Right before Sydney ever appeared there was a Virgin Mary figure. Sydney is always portrayed like Mary with light behind her, even with her hair always covered and in blue and white. Mikey is viewed as a Jesus like figure, he died so that they could all fix their sins and the restaurant. He is this ghostly figure whose memory is everywhere. Sydney and Mikey tied together, and she is the one that takes on his last words. Let it rip.
Carmy views Syd as a miracle, he could barely even look at her when he said it. Finding the money in the tomato cans was a miracle, it allowed her to come back and be with him. Her coming to work for him in the first place was a miracle, she came in at the perfect time when he needed her the most. Their Mother of Victory was not their mother at all, but Sydney.
#the bear#the bear meta#sydcarmy#sydney adamu#carmen berzatto#the bear fx#john hughes#the great outdoors
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Angry kiss?
The rain poured down in icy sheets, drenching the both of them as they stood in the muddy clearing. Logan’s claws were still out, gleaming under the faint light of a flickering lantern Wade had smashed earlier in a fit of anger. Around them, the wreckage of their mission lay scattered—crates of stolen mutant tech smashed open, a half-destroyed transport truck still burning in the distance, and a bloodied trail leading back to the facility they’d failed to infiltrate.
It had gone sideways fast. Wade, as usual, had ignored Logan’s plan to wait for a patrol to clear before making their move. Instead, he’d charged in guns blazing, only to get pinned down by heavily armed guards while Logan had to fight his way through to cover him. The mission was a bust, their intel lost, and Logan was nursing a bullet wound to his side that was healing slower than it should’ve.
“You’re a goddamn idiot, Wade,” Logan growled, his voice rough as gravel. “You never think! Never stop to ask if maybe—just maybe—you charging in headfirst isn’t the answer!”
“Oh, I’m the idiot?” Wade spat back, waving his hands dramatically. “Big bad Wolverine, always pretending like he’s got everything under control, but what’s your plan, huh? Growl at people until they stop shooting? Real tactical genius there, claws-for-brains.”
Logan’s fists clenched, his claws not daring to slide back into his knuckles. “You don’t listen to a goddamn word I say. You’re gonna get us both in a crock of horse shit one day!”
“And you’re gonna die cranky and alone!” Wade shot back, but his voice cracked ever so slightly on the last word. It was enough to make Logan pause, just for a second, his sharp eyes narrowing.
The silence that followed was suffocating. The rain kept falling, dripping from Logan’s hair and running in rivulets down Wade’s scarred face. Neither of them moved, the tension between them as heavy as the storm overhead.
Wade’s jaw worked, his usual flippant mask slipping for just a moment. “Look, I… I didn’t mean to screw things up. I just—”
“Shut up,” Logan muttered, stepping closer, his boots squelching in the mud. Wade expected him to start stabbing like he usually does, punch him- beat him- start another bloody brawl that would end with neither of them dying and just being exhausted.
Wade blinked. “Wow, that’s real mature—”
“I said, shut up,” Logan growled again, and before Wade could finish his retort, Logan’s hand shot out, grabbing the front of his suit and yanking him forward.
Their mouths crashed together, hard and desperate, hot and wet as the rain showered their already wet bodies. It was kind of kiss that felt more like a fight than an apology or reconciliation. Logan’s grip on Wade’s suit was iron-tight, fisting the red leather so tight his knuckles turned white, barely careful not to cut Wade with his claws. Wade’s hands hovered for a moment, unsure, before settling on Logan’s shoulders. Logan had to tip toe to make contact with him, and Wade had to hunch over just slightly to meet the height difference. It was more so that he’d been pulled, rather than willingly bent over.
It wasn’t soft, and it wasn’t clean. Their teeth clashed, and Wade tasted blood—his own or Logan’s, he wasn’t sure—but none of it mattered. All the anger, the frustration, the unspoken emotions that had been building between them spilled out in that moment, raw and unfiltered. Logan gripped, and felt him up with fervor, shivering with anger, and the cold- and… lust.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard, the rain washing away the blood and dirt from their faces. Wade’s wide, unblinking stare met Logan’s, who looked equally stunned by what had just happened.
“Okay,” Wade said finally, his voice hoarse. “That was… something. Not that I’m complaining—love a good ‘shut up’ kiss—but maybe next time we skip the punching and go straight to the—”
Logan cut him off with a low growl, his lips twitching in the barest hint of a smirk. “Don’t push your luck, Wade.”
Wade grinned, and for the first time all night, it felt real. “Too late, bub.”
And just like that, the tension broke, leaving behind something softer, something unspoken but understood.
#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan x wade#deadclaws#X-men#deadpool movie#deadpool x wolverine#fanfiction#angry kiss
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Your damn cherry chapstick | Alex Morgan
a/n: from this prompt list. Let's pretend that voicemails can actually be this long lol.
Prompt Request: 10. I still remember how you taste...
Warnings: Implied Smut, MDNI, cursing, alcohol
Word Count: 573
Part 2 here
You have one new message
“God, I shouldn't even be doing this, fuck, how long since we talked talked?... I shouldn’t have had that stupid fucking wine... Fuck, like it matters, you probably are going to delete this once you see it’s from me…I’m not here to say congrats on marrying Servando…nah you know that’s not very me.”
Pause
“I regret introducing you to Servando, I really do…I would’ve been the one dancing with you at that Gala. I was just sitting there drinking away at that cheap ass, champagne they gave us and overlooking the campus while you were having the time of your life.”
Pause
“Funny, he looked so happy having you in his arms that day when not even hours before I was in between your legs, Morgan. I thought I had you back completely but you broke up whatever we had and went running to him once we got to the end of the year Gala for Cal Soccer”
Pause
“Do you remember that last time? You showed up at my apartment after skipping your Philosophy lecture wanting to “see me again” after ignoring me for weeks because you were with Servando. Hell, talking lasted 6 minutes before you pushed me against the wall begging me to kiss you…”
“I still remember how you taste, Alex…even the taste of your damn, cherry, chapstick. The sounds you made for me then are ingrained in my head...God, I’ll never forget. The way that it was all because of me and I was the only one who could make you feel that way… you said it yourself. Fuck, I wouldn’t have let you go that morning if I had known it was the last time; maybe things would have been different.”
Pause
“Nah, you knew what you were doing. It was just a fucking goodbye, wasn’t it? Got my hopes up and just broke it the moment you saw Servando?!? Fuck, Alex, you know what, I’m glad I had that career-ending injury in Portland, I saved myself all that time pining over you, wishing to have your back…”
Pause
“That sounded pathetic of me…’I still remember how you taste, Alex’ like that isn't the sound of pining over someone. Hell, you wouldn’t have said the same for me maybe because I didn’t let you…I was just happy tasting you and having you all to myself.”
Pause
“You know Servando actually texted me asking me if I wanted to be invited to the wedding. Said that I slipped through the cracks in planning…Funny, wonder if that was intentional on your part, babe. Afraid that you’ll leave Servando immediately if you see me. I mean you did that but to me back all those years ago…why wouldn’t you do it again?”...Anyways, Sev, pushed the idea that I give a speech of how I introduced you two…I declined of course…said I was busy.
Pause
“Is it cocky for me to assume I was the best you ever have? Probably… Anyways good luck on this marriage thing. Tell Servando that his ass should be happy that I introduced him to “the love of his life”. I hope you remember me the way that I remember you, I love you Alex Morgan, I’ve always had…it’d be ironic if I said don’t be a stranger because you do that all on your own…”
“Don’t you dare text me…I swear to God, Alex Morgan”
End of Message
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𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 - 𝐫𝐮́𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬
• 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ( 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐦 𝐢 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨?
[ 𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬
𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐚𝐦 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝? 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲.
previously on 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫
a few kisses later, they adjusted themselves ready to sneak out when all of a sudden they hear their names uttered with a confused tone, causing them to turn around simultaneously to find bernando standing there with a confused expression, " what -uh- .. . what is this? "
the pair stand there dumbfounded, as they are finally coming face to face with the consequence of keeping their affair a secret, now they had no choice but to admit everything.
______________________________________________________________
( now )
" you're dating him!! since when? "
to say that bernando was seething would be an understatement, he had never truly cared for rúben's dating habits, knowing well enough that it was his preference and his preference alone - yet the last thing he expected was for rúben to after her, his sister. " i ... this can't be happening " he mutters.
" nando, calm down please " ines sighs.
" no! " bernando interjects. " how can i be calm when my best friend was sleeping with my baby sister? "
ines rolls her eyes, " your baby sister is no longer a baby "
" ha! good luck getting that through his thick head " she murmurs under her breath.
bernando shot her a deadly glare, " i can’t let this relationship continue "
" nando, for the love of god she’s a grown up and rúben loves her " ines said.
" he doesn’t know a damn thing about love ines, have you not seen his past flings? " bernando said.
" ironic that you’re talking since before ines you weren’t exactly a saint " she retorts.
ines shot her a glare, silently asking her to remain quiet as she turned to her husband and said. " nando, listen … your sister, she’s not a kid anymore, she’s in her twenties and is responsible for her decision, plus the way i see it, rúben seems like he cares about her "
" no … i won’t be convinced no matter what you say " bernando ststes then turns to his sister, " if you love me, you’ll end it with rúben, because i will not sit here and watch him toy with you then throw you like you were nothing to him "
" you’re joking? do i look sixteen to you? i love rúben and so does he " she said.
" either you break it off or you’ll lose your brother " bernando said.
ines gasps, " nando what are you doing? you can’t do this to her "
" i can, when it comes to my sister, i can so … " bernando turns to her, " what will be your pick? "
her eyes gloss as she observed the determination in bernando’s eyes, " i … " she couldn’t even speak as she stormed out of their house.
ines tried to stop her yet failed to, she then turned to bernando. " i cannot believe you, she’s not a child, she’s a grown up " she cried.
" ines you don’t know rúben, ever since things ended with april, he hasn’t been the same — he sees women as a mere way to pass time and i won’t let my sister become a notch on that belt of his " bernando states.
ines sighs, she reached for her phone to try and call her yet to no avail, she just hoped that she won’t do anything stupid, and boy was she in for a treat.
that night, rúben was in his kitchen when the sound of the doorbell interrupted his train of his thoughts, confused — he made his way to the door to check; with a broad smile, he opens the door and was about to greet her with a kiss when he noticed her dejected expression. " meu amor " he whispers.
" i’m sorry " was all she could whisper as she embraced him, " i’m sorry, i’m sorry … "
to say he was confused would be an understatement, he shuts the door then leads her into the kitchen while she continued to sob quietly — he grabs a glass and fills it with water then hands it to her. " what’s wrong baby? "
once she was able to calm down and even her breath, " rúbes, i’m … i’m sorry "
" for what? why are you apologizing? " rúben was both confused and concerned over her.
she inhaled then exhaled before she blurted out, " we need to break up! "
his eyes widen, " pardon? " he whispers.
" i’ve fallen out of love with you " she said with a shaky voice. " so … we need to save ourselves and end this "
he chuckles dryly, " you can’t be serious "
" i am … i’m sorry rúben " she whispers with glossy eyes, " i’m really sorry "
before he can even manage a response, he watches with an aching heart as she departed his home that night, signifying the very end to their love story, the love he knew he wouldn’t feel again with anyone.
_
since that night, things have shifted yet not to a brighter note — rúben’s performance on the pitch had seemingly declined, so much so that he’d begun getting subbed off at halftime, often times not even considered for a match; if he did, he’d end up either fighting a player or violently arguing with an official much to the dismay of pep who had given him a few weeks off to sort himself out.
suffice to say, that didn’t work as well.
he had shifted into a completely other person which arose concern in his teammates, john had brought it up during training, " have you guys noticed how off rúben has been? "
jack shrugs, " not really, he seems normal to me "
erling rolls his eyes, " you barely notice anything " he then turned to john. " what do you think happened? "
john remained silent before his eyes widen, " he must have split from that girl he said he was into? "
kevin raised a brow, " i think i’ve heard him a few times talking to her, whoever she is, he was definitely in love "
as the players conversed, bernando overheard them and frowned — could it be …? no, no. this is for the best, my sister deserves better, he shakes the negative thoughts away from his head.
during break, bernando received a message from ines, it was a candid photo of his sister who was laughing with his mother as the women were having lunch together, he smiled for a brief moment until he noticed what ines had written underneath.
i heard her crying before we sat down for lunch, figured you’d like to know 🙂
his smile falls immediately, he zooms in on the photo, noting how dejected and worn out her eyes were despite laughing alongside their mother, he shut his phone then let out a ponderous sigh just as jack sat across from him. " you alright bernando? "
" yeah i … — " bernando hesitated before shaking his head. " no, i’m not "
" i don’t suppose it has something to do with rúben and your sister " jack remarked.
" how did you …? " bernando raised a brow.
" i’m not a damn bonehead as everyone thinks i am " jack chuckles. " plus rúben didn’t exactly hide the fact that he was in love, he had her picture as his lock screen "
bernando was bemused as he said. " i don’t know if i did the right thing "
" what do you mean? " jack wonders.
" it’s complicated, let’s just say i made a mistake " bernando sighs.
that night, as bernando returned home — he walked in to find ines in the kitchen yet his sister was no where in sight, " ines, where is she? "
ines didn’t look at him, " she’s asleep, she said she didn’t want to eat "
bernando sighs, " this is the sixth time she skips dinner "
ines sighs, " i wonder why? "
bernando covers his his face, " i don’t know … i mean this is the right thing, ok? my sister deserves better "
ines turns to her husband and says, " did you ever stop to think that rúben is her better, that he’s the one for her "
"wh— no, no way? " bernando shakes his head. " you’re not serious … "
" no i’m serious because if you would have gotten your head out of your ass " ines said with an incredulous tone, " you’d see that she was actually very happy around him, and vice versa "
" how would you know? i know rúben " bernando said with a defensive tone.
" no bernando, you do not know rúben " ines said with a sigh, " you think you do but you don’t and from the looks of it you do not even know your sister "
bernando sighs, his heart twinging from the guilt he felt — " what should i do? "
" go and talk to her " ines said.
bernando was conflicted, he then decided to walk towards the guest bedroom, where he heard the strums of the guitar followed by her angelic voice singing, he hesitated the knocked on the door, and waited until a soft ' come in ' from the other side , he pushed the door open. " irmã ? " he said.
she musters up a weak smile, " hey "
he couldn’t even smile back, " are you … are you ok? "
she nods, " mhm … i’m working on a new song, how was training? "
he couldn’t believe just how detached she was, " i … it was good, we’re ready for the upcoming match "
" how’s erm … how’s everyone there? " she asked.
" everyone is good " he responded before adding, " but erm … he wasn’t there "
she nodded, " ok "
a wave of uncomfortable silence fell between them before he decided to break it, " are you ok? "
she forced a smile on her lips and nodded at his inquiry, " don’t worry nando, i’m perfectly fine "
" then why don’t you go out and eat with us? " he suggests with a soft tone.
she smiles, " i am not hungry nando, and plus you and ines need all the alone time you can get "
he sighs, " irmã … "
she raised her hand, then replied with a soft tone, " don’t worry, ok "
he nods, then stands up. " if you change your mind we’ll wait "
she nods then hums before returning back to songwriting, " ok "
bernando was devastated to say the least, the weight of his actions finally registering after the interaction he had with his sister causing him to make the decision of visiting rúben the very next day given that pep had given them the day off to rest.
_
bernando knocks on his front door — around five minutes later, the door opens to reveal a disheveled rúben, with his stubble crossing on to become a full beard and his hair unkempt, his eyes were bloodshot evidently from crying and the lack of sleep, " bro, what the hell is wrong with you? "
" i … uh … " rúben scrambled to find a reasonable cause before shrugging. " i lost her, i lost her " he whispers.
" you love her? " bernando asks with a surprised expression as he enters to come face to face with a messy flat.
" you probably wouldn’t believe me " rúben said with a sad smile. " but she's the first girl i’ve ever truly loved and still love "
bernando grows silent then says, " let’s just … " he sighs, " go to the bathroom and shower while i clean the flat "
" oh no … no " he shakes his head then adds on, " you’re not gonna do that "
" rúben, please … just go clean up " bernando interjects.
he grows silent then says, " alright "
bernando watched as rúben disappeared into his living room; then, he pulls his cellphone out then dials her number — " hey, i … i need to see you, i’m at rúben’s house, ok, i’ll wait for you "
around an hour later, rúben steps out feeling much more refreshed and it was then that his nostrils picked up the scent of fresh cooked food, a contrast to the disastrous junk food he was gobbling. but what captured his attention was the familiar soft voice, he froze in place —unsure whether he was imagining things or if she was really there.
he saunters outside of his bedroom and peers into the kitchen; indeed, there she was standing with bernando, being the first to notice him beamed — " hey bro, i figured we can all sit down and eat "
he stood there speechless as bernando set the table up while she stood there awkwardly, once the trio sat down together, bernando deciding to be the first one to speak. " i guess we gotta confront the elephant in the room "
she raised her brow, " nando? "
" irmã " bernando interjects, " let me finish, i … ever since you were a little girl, i had always dreamt of becoming a dad and taking care you was the closest thing i had to experience it , that’s why i’ve been harsh with you but i love you, so much that i never saw anyone worthy of my baby sister’s love until … rúben "
he sat there shocked by bernando’s words.
" nando? " she tries again.
" let me finish please " bernando said, with a shaky voice. " i’ll admit, i’ve been suffocating you this entire time thinking i was doing the right thing when in reality, i broke the hearts of two people who love each other "
she looks at rúben who was as equally as emotional as she was.
" it took me seeing you two so distressed to realize my wrong doings so … " bernando sighs. " if you really love each other, then i will not stand in the way, but " he turns to rúben. " if you break her heart, i don’t care what club we play for, i’ll hurt you "
he chuckles, " i know "
bernando then turns to her. " i’m sorry for suffocating you, for not letting you live your life and for having you secretly chase your love, i hope you can forgive me "
she embraced bernando and sobbed, " i can never be mad at you nando " she then turned to rúben and said. " i’m sorry rúben "
" it’s ok meu amor, i’m not mad " he smiles.
bernando smiles at the sight before him, " you two deserve each other and …. the first child better be named after me "
she laughs, " don’t worry, you and ines will be the godparents "
it was then that bernando realized, watching the love radiating from his sister and rúben that despite the pain and hardships, true love triumphs.
#ruben dias#ruben dias fanfiction#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias one shot#ruben dias fluff#ruben dias angst
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Genuinely I would give anything to hear your thoughts or read more critical analysis of yours on other webcomics writing (*slides you Marionetta* I like the webtoon but there are some things in the writing that I'd like to see be discussed critically more often but the fandom focuses way too much on shipping. sighs..)
Anyway, you probably have been asked this before but are there any webtoons in particular you would recommend? :D
Oh lord, you don't know how many times a week I get asks in my inbox asking for my opinions on webtoons they're reading. It's really sweet that people wanna hear me talk about other works outside of LO, but unfortunately I just don't have the time to read as much as I used to, even keeping up on LO lately is getting really difficult 😅 I'm definitely keeping a list though of works to check out!
That said, I try not to read series on the basis of criticizing them because frankly I just... don't want to spend time reading something if people are only looking for me to rag on it? 😆 Of course I know that's not the only reason, I know there's also just the element of seeing me talk extensively about other works the way that I do with LO, but it's not really something I can turn on and off like that, I have to get really into a series to want to talk about it to that extent. So it often comes down to just luck of the draw :'0
Right now the series I'm keeping up the most on (or have completed and would absolutely 100% re-read):
Alfie (18+, it's porn with plot but the plot is REALLY GOOD , I SWEAR LMAO the art is gorgeous, the characterization is IMMACULATE, and it ironically tackles the subject of purity culture way better than LO ever has lol)
Theia Mania (the creator is often in my comment section / neck of the woods, she's been working on an Abduction of Persephone retelling for a long while now and has also tackled other myth retellings in her style! I always love seeing new pages of her work in my feed :' ) <3)
Tales from Alderwood (if you like fantasy and comedy, this one's great, the plot's really starting to get interesting and it's just got this really great sense of humor about it)
The Black Parade (this one's REALLY interesting, it's a comic-stylized version of My Chemical Romance's The Black Parade, using the songs as narration and sometimes even dialogue to tell a visual story, it's really cool and the art matches beautifully with the lyrics and style of MCR!)
A Tale of Two Rulers (this is a Legend of Zelda fancomic that poses the question, "What if Zelda and Ganondorf got married to solve their political crisis?" It updates a lot slower than most of the other comics I follow but the art and writing is so worth it <3)
Dogs of Future Past (and p much all of Lynx's Undertale comics which can be found in the link, seriously, THESE are the comics you wanna read if you wanna get into Undertale fanworks, they are PEAK)
Tamberlane (this one's an anthro comic, I normally don't read anthro but this one actually gripped me by the throat, the art is gorgeous and the character arcs so far have been great!)
The Mafia Nanny (okay it's legit so funny that I'm including this one here but I've been reading it the last couple days after seeing it basically beat out LO at the top of the trending tab for a couple days, so I figured I'd give it a shot, at first I was like "great more tropey shit" but the more I read it the more it's actually started to get pretty good, I'm holding out and hoping to god it stays that way LOL it's not especially deep or anything like that, but it's really fun and cute to read and the shipping of the main character within the narrative isn't too self-absorbed which I can always appreciate, I'd honestly be 100% fine with it if it didn't turn into a romance)
City of Blank (I talk about this one a lot here, but it's one of my favorite Originals right now, the art is super polished and the writing has gotten INTENSE, go check it out if you want some fun action / sci-fi storytelling!)
Time and Time Again (a time-travelling vampire and his werewolf boyfriend get into all kinds of misadventures, what more could you ask for?)
Touch of Divinity (like the Mafia Nanny, this is one I just started reading, it's got a very interesting premise so far and I'm looking forward to seeing where it goes!)
#if i ever do read marionetta then y'all will definitely hear about it LOL#ask me anything#ama#anon ask me anything#anon ama#recommendations#reading reccs#reading recommendations
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Whumpuary No. 3
Choice // storm // black eye
Whumpee was an idiot. She was a stupid, dumb, idiot and now she was going to die and it was all her stupid fault. They warned against women on ships, they said it was bad luck, but did she listen? Hmm? Did she actually heed the warnings and ill omens?! No!
She dressed as a boy, cut her hair short, wrapped thick bandages to suppress her chest — not that she had a lot of ampleness to her bosom — but still! Maybe if she had more than an appropriate level of bosom, she wouldn’t have played with the boys when she was a child, and would have worn pretty dresses and not ripped and ruined them climbing trees, or chasing cats in the forest and her brain would never have been filled with the temptation of the sea and now she was—
A strong wave cut into the ship and she was flung starboard, her sea legs failing her while her brain turned over and over on itself again because… she swallowed as she pushed herself into a standing. All of these men, the brothers she had got to know while working as part of the crew, she doomed them all.
She doomed them all.
“Whumpee?” Whumpee’s head snapped in the direction of the door. She didn’t hear it open in the storm. Caretaker stood in the doorway, his crystal eyes wide as he took her in. She wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and let him hold her while she apologised for bringing this storm upon them. “Whumpee… what are you doing down here?”
“This storm,” Whumpee said with bright eyes and a startled gasp. “It’s—” she grabbed her chest, the bandages suddenly too tight as a searing ache cut through her chest. She longed to cut through the blasted things and breathe properly for the first — and possibly the last time. “Oh gods. I did this… I brought this storm upon us.”
“What’re you talking about?” Caretaker demanded. “Whumpee, no man can control the weather nor the seas.”
Oh, she wanted to reply, oh that was true. No man could influence anything on something as tumultuous as the sea except a woman with her iron will, and her wiles that the skies and storms like to punish for daring to venture too far away from the life of parasols and proposals.
“I did—” Whumpee said, her inhales becoming more frantic and then another jostle of the ship and she was thrown forwards this time. Caretaker caught her, hands on her shoulders and pushed her to her standing, shaking her slightly.
“Whumpee! Now is not the time to lose your steadfastness. Trust the captain, trust me, have we ever steered this ship wrong?”
Whumpee’s chest loosened slightly. “No,” she said, looking up at him from below the rim of her hat.
Caretaker beamed his handsome smile down at her that made her heart quicken for an entirely different reason than panic. Something sweeter, something her sister Anne talked about when she started to court her future husband.
“Keep your balance low in your hips, drop your weight to your feet. Keep your eyes steady on the horizon and we’ll survive this.”
“Yes sir,” Whumpee said with a smile and a salute.
“Good,” Caretaker beamed. “Now, Captain said we have to—”
“PIRATES!”
Their expressions wiped clean from their faces, mirroring the horror on the other’s face. Caretaker frowned. “Pirates in a storm… that… it doesn’t—” he trailed off and then his head snapped up, eyes focused on Whumpee’s. “The Black Dread.”
Whumpee lurched forward when Caretaker turned and bolted up the stairs to the deck. “The what?!” She cried after him. She only barely caught herself on the door frame when the next wave struck the hull but then she smelled the gunpowder in the air and she blanched. She sprinted up the stairs after Caretaker and onto the chaos of the surface.
Winds howled, pulling at her hat and clothes, carrying the screams and orders barked around the ship but Whumpee wasn’t looking for an order to follow she was searching the sea with her sharp gaze. She didn’t see any sign of pirates.
Her eyes found Caretaker’s distinctive first mate jacket and took off after him over the deck, ignoring the shouts from her fellow crew mates to help tie the sails and secure the masts and life lines. She didn’t have a life line, either did Caretaker.
She didn’t think as she raced after him, up to the quarterdeck. He was speaking frantically, gesturing to the captain who had taken control of the helm. Captain’s eyes widened at Caretaker’s words that Whumpee couldn’t hear. A bang to the stern and Whumpee whirled on her feet.
It was hard to see in the mist and the fog, but she could’ve sworn she saw a glimmer of clear weather behind them. In the opposite direction than what they were sailing.
She ran up to the helm and interrupted their conversation. “Captain! We have to turn around!”
Both men’s heads snapped down to Whumpee.
“Who do you think you are, boy?!” Captain gruffed. Caretaker caught Whumpee’s gaze over the Captain’s shoulder and shook his head in warning.
“Please, Cap’n. I saw a ray of sun towards the stern, sir. If we turn around now we can outrun the storm and not—” another blow jostled the ship, but it didn’t stop after the wave struck. The sound of screams and creaking wood behind her drew Whumpee’s gaze.
The main mast creaked and groaned, threatening to split in half and fall onto the deck. “CLEAR THE DECK!” Captain ordered frantically. “All hands to the quarterdeck now!”
“Captain, it’s the dread—”
“Aye, I know who the blasted devil is,” Captain snapped. His steel gaze found Whumpee’s. He started to furiously turn the ship around until they were 180 degrees and sailing with the wind. “But soiling our britches won’t solve any of our problems, Caretaker, will they?” He gruffed.
Caretaker nodded resolute, his eyes slid behind Whumpee, then to Whumpee directly before he took off. “Whumpee,” Caretaker commanded. “With me. We’ll loose the sails.”
“You better be right, Whumpee.” Captain said as they turned and disappeared down the stairs, running through the throng of sailors and crewmen who were ascending the stairs. “By the Gods, Whumpee” Captain grimaced. “You better be right.”
A strong hand, big enough to encase Whumpee’s upper arm stopped her in her tracks. Whumpee’s eyes went to the owner. It was Struman, her bunk mate, his eyes hard. “Where’re ya going? Cap’n said to—”
Caretaker was at the bottom of the stairs and climbing the ladders to the sails. “We have to unfurl the sails, we’re sailing out of this storm. Caretaker’s orders.”
Struman nodded stiffly. He released Whumpee’s arm and gestured for three other crew men to follow him while the rest retreated to safety. Whumpee ran to the main sail on the starboard side and began to climb. She was small, swift and agile, her hands already calloused before she joined the crew. She wasn’t like Anne or any of her sisters with soft, dainty hands. And it was a good thing in a storm like this, giving her grip so she didn’t blow away. Her masculine muscles keeping her strong and steady as she ran across the beam and began to unknot the ropes securing the sail.
Caretaker was crouched down opposite her. He flashed her a handsome, charming smile as his ropes came undone. The salt and sea spray mixed with the rain and the wind pulling at his shirt and hair made him look more attractive than Whumpee thought a man needed to look. Why couldn’t she be pretty like Anne? Would he smile at her like that if she would act like a good wife?
Oh blasted! That’s not what she should be thinking about at a time like this! Her hands worked quickly and the sail unfurled down, material rippling against the wind as it shucked down and immediately caught the wind. She glanced back at Caretaker and sighed a sigh that was stolen by the wind. It wasn’t her fault he consumed her thoughts like that, she thought looking at him, Caretaker looked like a God of the sea, with his tanned skin from so many days spent in the sun on the ship.
Another crack against the sky and Whumpee flinched. Caretaker ran by her. A hand brushed hers. “Come on! To the deck.”
She turned and followed him. She would follow him anywhere, she realised as the wind caught his shirt and sent it billowing. He turned and dropped to the first rung of the rope ladder and looked up at her, his smile golden and Whumpee melted a little.
Then his gorgeous eyes flashed with a horrible, terrible danger and he screamed her name, but Whumpee didn’t hear it over the crashing sound behind her. The crack ripped through the sky. The mast wobbled and she slipped on the wood. She screamed as the mast turned and toppled. She grabbed a rope but it slipped through her fingers and she cursed as she fell. A strong hand grabbed hers as her feet slipped from the wood and were falling with nothing below her but the sea.
She screamed as her wrist snapped against her arm and her descent was halted. Caretaker. He… Whumpee was swung into the rope ladder and she cried out, gasping as it stole the wind from her chest.
“Caretaker!” Captain? Whumpee couldn’t hear anything over the sound of the clouds that roared like an angered beast; over the sound of the crack of canons; over the rushing sound of blood in her ears. “THE LADDER!”
But it was too late. The mast dislodged. The rope attached and it was falling. Whumpee and Caretaker tried to hold on as much as possible, shifting, trying to get to the deck but the mast fell too far out and they were dangling above the sea.
“Whumpee!” Caretaker screamed as her grip faltered. “Whumpee! Let go!” He ordered.
Let go.
Let go.
Just… just let go.
Why wasn’t she letting go?
If she let go she would drop into the water. It was the most logical thing to do. She just had to let go. She wouldn’t even hurt breaking the film over the sea. She was in the perfect position of a solider dive so…. Why….
Her fingers wouldn’t release the rope.
She shook with the wind, no. She trembled with the paralytic fear that consumed her blood and turned her muscles rigid and heavy.
“I—” she stammered. Wet eyes met Caretaker’s gorgeous gleaming crystals. “I—” but she never finished her sentence. Another car tore through the sky and her grip faltered and she fell with a yelp. She didn’t know if Caretaker followed, but she only had a moment of a gasp in breath before she hit the icy waters below.
She opened her eyes but the waters were black and she kicked her legs on instinct more than anything else. She broke the surface with a gasp, her lungs screeching at her and grumbling as she gasped. But the salt water entered her mouth and she spit it out as the rocky tides overwhelmed her and she was submerged again.
Something above them. Another crack and Whumpee glanced up. The mast fell now, falling towards them and Whumpee didn’t think. Her body pushed against the water and she tried to clear the hulk of wood before it crashed into her.
Too slow.
Something hard and unrelenting caught her ankle and she heard a crack throughout her body and she gasped, swallowing lungfuls of water as she was dragged below the surface of the angry tides.
She yanked her ankle forward and screamed into the water as it caught on something. She turned and tried to quiet her mind, she could free it. She could free it. Her eyes found the rope ladder it was caught in like a fish in a net. She hooked her other foot to the rope and yanked herself closer, knees to her chest as she grabbed the injured foot and pulled it free from the rope.
She unhooked her other leg and pushed up, her lungs screaming for oxygen. She pumped her arms up, she could see the light, see the sun, feel its heat and she let out a startled yelp as she surfaced again. The waves pulled at her bad ankle and she winced as she kicked with her good leg to keep herself afloat.
But there was no sun… they were still in the storm… but the heat? Whumpee gulped as more debris fell around her. Burning debris.
“Caretaker! Caretaker!” She screamed. Her bright eyes searched the sea around her but it was no good in the fog and the darkness. A hand found her shoulder and she screamed and turned. And two eyes made of crystal found hers and she weeped. “Oh Caretaker… oh, thank the gods you’re okay.”
“Whumpee! Are you hurt? I was looking everywhere for you.”
“I’m— I—” I love you, she shouldn’t say. Even if they were about to die. Right? “My ankle,” she finished pathetically.
Caretaker nodded. He searched the tides with his calm, eagle eye. “There,” he said, and he put a hand around Whumpee’s arms. “Hook your hands around my shoulders,” he said.
Whumpee blushed at the command, but she obeyed, happy he couldn’t see what effect his words had on her. She clung to him, she could feel his defined muscles in his shoulders and back as she clung to him. “Okay. Hold on. Don’t let go! No matter what. That’s an order.”
“Yes sir!” She screamed against the tides. Caretaker started swimming, and Whumpee locked her fingers together in front of him as he pushed against the frigid waters. They would freeze if they stood still, Whumpee realised as the chill of the sea seized her burning leg.
They reached a floating piece of debris from the ship, Whumpee couldn’t really make out what it was from. Caretaker unhooked Whumpee’s arms from him and wrapped them over the debris that acted like a rafter.
“Okay,” Caretaker said. His lips were blue from the cold. “I need you to wait here and—”
But Whumpee didn’t hear the final command. Another bang and something fell and Caretaker screamed and then darkness.
*~*~*~*~*
Whumpee woke up bleary eyed, only vaguely aware that they were being dragged somewhere. They didn’t manage more than a groan and a whimper before they passed out again.
*~*~*~*~*
A splash of cold water jolted Whumpee awake. She gasped reflexively, eyes open and mouth gaping like a fish. She went to her side and hit something solid. Whumpee frowned at the boots in front of her. They were some fancy looking boots for her crew and her arms weren’t responding to her commands.
She was on deck. She knew that. The waves quietly tippling them along.
“Get them up,” a voice commanded. Whumpee’s eyes widened as hands were upon her and putting her on her knees again. She yelped as her weight was put on her broken ankle and shot up on her good leg.
The sound of a pistol being cocked froze her in place. “Stay down, shark bait.”
“Please…” she said, biting her lip to stop from crying out in front of unfriendly sailors. “I— I hurt my foot, I can’t put weight on it.”
“Whumpee…” Whumpee’s head shot up at the voice but she didn’t see Caretaker in front of her. No, instead she saw a woman in an exquisite purple captain’s jacket and tricorn hat with a long, inky black feather that gleamed in the sunlight.
The woman smiled down at Whumpee. She crouched so she was at Whumpee’s eye level. Her eyes were unlike any Whumpee had ever seen. They were as radiant as the woman herself, enthralling Whumpee and leaving her speechless, but she also reeked of danger and pain so Whumpee cowered away from her despite her alluring beauty.
“Whumpee?” The woman purred, a soft hand found Whumpee’s chin and pulled her back so there was little distance between them. Whumpee flinched at her name. “Is that your name, sweet thing?”
“Get off of him!” Caretaker said somewhere to Whumpee’s right. Whumpee jerked her head in his direction but it didn’t budge, the woman didn’t release Whumpee’s head enough for her to turn and see Caretaker… but he was alive… he was alive.
Her eyes glazed as that realisation set in and she had to keep the relieved smile off her face this close to this beautiful lady with such soft hands for pirate.
Oh…
Oh.
The relief was washed from her bones and replaced with cold quick dread that flushed her body and made her shiver. The grip on Whumpee’s chin tightened.
“I asked you a question.”
“Y—yes, yes ma’am.”
“Tch. Ya hear that lads?! This young pup called your Captain ma’am!” A chorus of jeers and Whumpee flinched, but the woman wouldn’t release Whumpee’s chin from her iron grip.
“I’m sorry, Ma— I mean… Captain. I really— I didn’t mean any offence, I—”
The woman placed a dainty finger on Whumpee’s lips which instantly silenced her. Whumpee trembled as she stared into the woman’s eyes like coals that burned as bright as her inky feather.
“Whumpee is your name?”
Whumpee blinked. “Yes,” she squeaked.
“Your real name, darling?”
Whumpee shivered. “Y-yes.”
“Get away from him! He’s just a ship hand—” a dull thud cut Caretaker off with his own groans of pain.
“Please—” Whumpee pleaded, trying to turn her head. “Please…” but she didn’t know what she was pleading for. For the woman to release her, or not tell this group of hostile, male dominated sailors that she wasn’t in fact a man. “Please,” she whimpered against the Captain’s finger.
The Captain’s lips were painted a glossy red, so bold for a lady to wear, but Whumpee got the distinct impression that the woman in front of her was anything but an ordinary lady.
The captain pursed her lips. She released Whumpee’s face and stood. “This one comes with me to my quarters,” she announced. Whumpee flinched. “Wha-what?!”
A chorus of raunchy voices cried out in disappointment and approval. “You know the best pick of them, Cap’n,” someone said as Whumpee was hauled to her feet. She cried out as she put weight on the bad leg and Caretaker called her name again.
“Oh, whoops. I forgot about your foot,” the captain said with a smile that could cut through the hide of a whale. Whumpee gulped. “First mate, darling, be a dear and carry my loot back to my quarters, I will be there in a moment.”
“Wait!” Whumpee cried. “Wait, please! We’re peaceful, we’ve surrendered!”
More scathing laughter that boiled Whumpee’s blood. “Please! Just bring us back to—” Whumpee’s head jolted to the side suddenly. A warmth bloomed on her cheek as she righted herself, eyes shining at the woman in front of her. Did she just slap her? Only her governess had ever slapped her before and that was when she was a girl.
“First of all, sweet thing,” the captain said, grabbing Whumpee’s chin again and tilting her head up to look the startling woman in the eye. “You didn’t surrender, you were overwhelmed and invaded and now you are prisoners and spoils of battle well fought.”
“We were a trading vess—” Another slap. Harder this time. Whumpee cried out. “Oh, I love it when they’re mouthy,” she purred, as she stepped closer and planted a kiss on Whumpee’s cheek she just struck. Twice.
Whumpee went colder than she thought possible.
“Let him go!” Caretaker screamed as Whumpee was picked up and thrown over a broad shoulder. She raised her head, her eyes briefly met Caretaker’s wide gaze as he was wrestled back into a kneeling position. The Captain stepped between Whumpee’s eyesight of Caretaker.
She started to struggle, but it was a vain, pathetic effort. With her hands tied behind her back she probably looked like a fish on a hook. “Don’t touch him! Get off him!” She screeched, but the First Mate took her further and further away until the deck disappeared altogether as she screamed. “Let go of me! Get off of me you brute!”
First Mate threw her to the ground as soon as they entered the captain’s quarters. Whumpee saw stars as pain shot from her ankle up her leg and she cried out.
“Oh, the captain’s gonna have fun with you,” First Mate told her in a gravelly voice. “So pretty, too. She likes pretty boys, you’re exactly her type.”
Whumpee scurried back on her hands and her good foot but the first mate followed her. “But she always tires of them after a while, and when she tires of you, gorgeous, I’ll be next in line.”
Whumpee couldn’t speak she was that scared. There was nothing in her brain, in her body, nothing except whimpers and screams and fear and SHIVERS. Why couldn’t she do anything except tremble like a frightened dog?! She was stronger than this!
“You wait right there, shark bait, the captain will be with you shortly.” The brute turned and grabbed the door. Before he left, he stopped and chuckled darkly. He glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes half lidded and filled with something monstrous. “And when she’s through with you, you’ll wish you stayed with the sharks.”
With that the door slammed shut with a bang. Whumpee flinched. Then she waited and prayed that Caretaker was okay.
#whumpuary2025#whumpuaryno3#Whumpuary#black eye#storm#pirate whump#pirate#pirate ship#pirates#yaaaaahhhhh#pirates wooooo#whump writing#whump#whump challenge#whump community#whump prompt#whump calendar#whumpblr#whumpee#female whumpee#lady whump#lady whumpee#lady whumper#male caretaker#caretaker#whumper#pirate whumper#sailor caretaker#historical romance#period piece
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Shallow | O.de/Oh Seungmin
O.de/Oh Seungmin | part of Not In The Same Way: MTL Series WC: 1.3k Genre: Angst/Smut(?) Summary: You loved Seungmin. You did. Yet, somewhere in that love, you lost yourself, turning into a mirror image of him, which is something you grew to hate. Warnings: there's like... slight smut? It's skippable if you want it to be, but it's there. A/N: THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG I FORGOT TO HIT PUBLISH FHDSJKFS SORRY. Also: the smut part of this... maybe I will expand on one day (no promises) because. mmm hatefucking <3 OK SORRY GOOD LUCK OSEUMI LOVERS
“I… Listen. I loved you. And maybe, deep down, there’s a part of me that still does. But that part of me is so lost… it isn’t fair to me and it isn’t fair to you. I’ll see you around, okay? Take care of yourself.”
Seungmin’s world felt like it was crumbling. Everything had seemed just fine, this morning. Right…? He felt blindsided, and frankly, incredibly hurt. He looked back into your eyes, and God, it stung. What was once a gaze of adoration and love had been replaced with confusion and pain.
“What are you even saying, (Y/N)? We’re a team, we’re… we’re us. What happened to that?”
You sigh heavily, sitting on the arm of the couch, running your hands over your face.
“That’s the thing, Seungmin. We… I’m not myself anymore. I’m you. I don’t even know who I am outside of being with you anymore, and that scares me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, cautious about what you were saying.
“So, what? You’re just going to throw away everything we have and everything we are just because you’re having an identity crisis? You don’t think that’s a little unfair to me? I’m supposed to be your boyfriend, I’m supposed to help you through shit like this!” He said, raising his voice only a bit. He wasn’t yelling at you. Far from it. But he was so damn frustrated, and you could tell. Still, his words cut, deep.
“I’m not throwing anything away! But it isn’t fair to me, either! I wake up and I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize that person!” You retort, matching his volume.
He lets out a sound, a mix between a sigh and a scoff.
“Nice. Real nice, (Y/N). Being like me is so damn bad that you’d rather throw this away than try to work through it with me by your side.” He said, eerily calm, clearly extremely hurt, despite misinterpreting your words.
“You’re putting words in my mouth, Seungmin. Stop it. I didn’t say that. I’m…” You sigh again, exhausted from the arguing. “I’m not doing this to be selfish, I’m doing this for us, don’t you understand that? You deserve someone who compliments you, not a carbon copy of you. And that’s what I’ve turned into.” You spoke slowly, trying to make him understand.
“Well, there’s one thing that you didn’t copy from me. You’re so goddamn self centered and shallow.” He said, his tone biting. You know he didn’t really mean it, that he was just lashing out in anger but, fuck, that hurt more than anything you could ever muster up to say to him.
“Seungmin, what the fuck?” Your voice comes out hushed, small, and hurt.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” He said, realizing the extent of the damage he’d done. You huff, standing up, pushing past him to the door.
“I’ll see you around, Seungmin.” You said, leaving those being the last words you said to him, for a good while.
~~~
Not a long enough while, though. It hadn’t been more than a week before you had bumped into him while you were out with some friends, ironically, trying to drink away the thoughts of him. You had debated calling him before this, over and over again, but you stayed strong. Still, there you stood, your feet aching in the heels you’d squeezed them into, your eyes fixated on his figure, standing on the opposite end of the bar, waiting for his drink.
“Please, please do not let him be here with someone else,” You thought to yourself. You were the one who had broken up with him, sure, but still, it had only been a week or so. You stayed by your friends, just observing him for the duration of a song or two, releasing a held breath when you realized that he was here alone. Did you want to walk over to him? You were the one who left him, after all. And it was messy to say the least. You knew you would hate yourself for it later, but you walked over to him, sitting next to him, clearing your throat to make your presence known.
He turned to look at you, his eyes widening. He didn’t know what shocked him more - the fact you were sitting there next to him, or the fact you were showing a good amount of skin in what you had worn.
“Hey.” You said, quietly.
“Hey…” He replied, just as quietly.
~~~
You didn’t know how it happened. Multiple drinks and hours later, he and you were drunkenly stumbling through your once shared apartment, leaving filthy, needy kisses all over each other. Your lips had attached to his neck, leaving dark red hickeys and bites all over him, all the while his hands found their way down to your hips, pressing hard into your skin. A few more steps and you found yourself bent over the arm of the couch - the same couch you had sat on and argued with him less than a week ago. It didn’t matter to you now, though. All that mattered was him, the feeling of his hands on you, the feeling of your skirt getting hiked up and your strapless top getting yanked down. The feeling of him pushing your head down into the couch as he fucked you from behind. You couldn’t consider it hate fucking, neither of you hated each other. Hell, maybe you were right, maybe you did hold love for him still, somewhere deep inside you. Probably as deep as his cock was hitting, if you were being honest with yourself.
It wasn’t until a little after 3am that the two of you had both tapped out, breathing heavily on the couch. You were laying in his arms, something that hadn’t happened in a while, even when you were together. His chest rose and fell in tandem with yours, but what you didn’t know was that while you laid there blissed out, sweaty and on cloud nine, brainless, he laid there thinking. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the sex, of course he did. So, it came as a shock, even to him, when he spoke.
“You should go.” He said, quietly, stoic.
“What?” You asked, immediately hurt. Sure, this wasn’t hate sex, but wasn’t it make up sex?
“I… (Y/N), this was…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word mistake. He didn’t see it like that. He never did before, and that hadn’t changed. He simply sighed, letting his arms fall away from you. “I’m sorry.” He said, hoarsely. You could tell this was just as hard for him as it was you, but that didn’t exactly make you feel better in this moment. You nodded, fighting your own emotional breakdown, pulling your clothes back on as best as you could given your sweaty, sticky state. You said nothing as you walked to the door, despite wanting to say so much. Anything, really.
The fact of the matter was, he had changed just as much as you had… you were quite literally two halves of a whole, but that whole was now shattered beyond repair. You weren’t just him, you were you and he was him. Together you were the best and worst of each other. But there was nothing you could do or say, now. You had made your bed, and now you had to lie in it, alone. Maybe, in another timeline, things would have worked out and you would have realized that he was right - you were being self-centered and shallow. At least you got what you wanted… now you had no choice but to figure out who you were, without him.
CHOOSE ANOTHER MEMBER HERE
OR
LISTEN TO THE SONG THAT INSPIRED THIS, BELOW
#xdh#xdh imagines#xdinary heroes fanfic#xdinary heroes imagines#puppyluvfics#xdinary heroes#xh fanfiction#xdinary heroes x reader#xdinary heroes angst#xh angst#ode x reader#ode angst#oh seungmin#oh seungmin x reader#oh seungmin angst#Spotify
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♡ Coffee shop au in which ellie is a barista and knows you like her so she keeps making you increasingly terrible drinks to see how far she can push you ♡
pt. 4
pt. 1 // pt. 2 // pt. 3
Ellie froze. She had been caught red-handed. A beat passed before she brushed off your confronting remark. She subconsciously raised her chin, trying her damndest to look unfazed.
"Well, I had to make sure a pretty girl like you wasn't coming back for the flavor profile..." she replied smugly, looking you up and down in the least subtle manner.
She watched as your cheeks burned red. Now you were the one standing there dumbfounded. Ellie wasn't sure why you were surprised, she knew what game you'd been playing. What she hadn't been expecting was your next quip.
"Oh yeah? You caught me. Now how are you gonna pay me back for passing your tests?"
Ellie blinked at you in honest awe of your boldness. She tried her best to control the conversation again.
"Hm. That's fair. How about I give you my number and the best Americano in town and we call it even? The first one is hard to come by, ya know." Ellie smirked wildly, quite satisfied with herself.
She watched your eyes widen in disbelief. Few girls had gotten this far, usually her attitude ran them off by now. Soon after, her eyes trailed your hand as it came up to your chin, tapping it in dramatized thought. You even tapped your foot for ironic effect, Ellie noted.
"Hmmm, deal." You nodded, firm in your agreement. Ellie shook her head and giggled, a genuine girlish laugh escaping her lips. You were something else.
"Come 'ere," she said in a warm smiling tone, "get it tattooed or something, can't have you losing it." She scribbled her number on the back of your hand, the last number slightly smearing in blue ink.
Ellie felt her heart flutter at the stupidly wide grin on your face. It surprised her. Was she really simping this hard right now?
"So uh...are you gonna make that Americano then?" You snorted, averting her gaze and rolling your eyes trying not to laugh. This girl was such a fuckboy it was ridiculous.
"Sure thing, sweetheart. I promise you it'll be the best you've ever had." Ellie replied suggestively. You knew she wasn't just talking about the dark roast.
"We'll see about that," you looked up over your browbone at her like it was a challenge.
Ellie purposely ignored you, wanting to leave you wanting more. She couldn't enable you too much, that was no fun.
She felt your eyes watching her every move as she once again worked the espresso machine with ease. Muscular arms darting between stations, strong shoulders lifting each implement and handle like it was second nature (it was).
She took real joy in her physique, as were you apparently, she mused when she caught you staring.
"I hope you like this as much as you like what you see." Ellie chuckled boyishly.
Here you were again, cheeks flushing. She was hoping to catch you off guard.
Instead of setting the drink on the counter this time, she made sure to slowly pass it directly into your hands, taking just a beat too long to finish the transfer. You cupped the warm beverage between your palms.
You made sure to make eye contact with Ellie as you took your first error-free sip from the roastery. Ellie watched you with intensity, genuinely hoping that she'd blow you away. This time, she was trying to impress you.
The taste of warm cinnamon and rich espresso flooded your senses in a way you could hardly describe. Ellie was right, this was the best damn cup of coffee you'd ever had. It kind of made you angry, in a way.
As you removed the cup from your lips, you paused, blinking slowly.
"Ellie, are you fucking kidding me? I missed out on this for three weeks?" You're tone was dripping with frustration.
She was hoping you would gloss over that now that you had something genuinely good in your hand, but no such luck.
"Well, I suppose your pretty face will be back then?" She chuckled, looking away.
"Ellie, how could I stay away?"
--
Tags: @vgnoxi @bunkisses4u @lovergirlism @radioheadfan699
#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams#ellie williams tlou#coffee shop au#barista au#tlou ellie#ellie tlou2#ellie tlou#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x fem reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie x reader#ellie williams the last of us#the last of us part 2#tlou2 ellie#ellie x you#orig
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codex askss 2 for emira, 8 for chronos, 1 for therése and 15 for chloe!
YESSSS YESSSSS [ask game]
Emira | 2. a letter written by your OC’s family member
Em,
Haven't heard from you in ages, which is worrying because your ass usually doesn't go quiet easily. The amount of trees that could've been saved if you just showed a sign of life.
Things in the alienage have been quiet too. I think our people still move with the way you do.
Soris and Valora missed you at their anniversary. I did too. Andraste's ass, can't you just reply? Leliana won't either. But that's just how Leliana is these days, isn't she?
Best of luck to you wherever you may be.
With love,
Shianni
— A letter written by Hahren Shianni, Bann of Denerim's Alienage, dated 9:41 Dragon
Chronos | 8. your OC’s doctor/healer talking about their injuries
Patient notes - Inquisitor Adaar
Inquisitor Adaar sustained an injury last mission he went on, going to stop the Grey Wardens. He lost his leg.
Decapitated just below the knee
Nasty nerve damage
Has to rest for at least 4 weeks, ideally 8
Give him whiskey for the pain, won't do much but it's better than nothing
The Iron Bull insist he'll take care of the Inquisitor. Said he's dealt with lost limbs before. Better him than me, Inquisitor's pissed. Least it wasn't his sword arm. Well, staff arm I suppose.
— A note written by the surgeon in Skyhold, the paper is crumpled and there's some dry blood on it. There's also a doodle of a bee- distinctly done in a different pen.
Therése | 1. an overheard conversation about your OC
Recruit: She... She killed her father?
Senior Warden: Most have done worse.
Recruit: No, no I've heard worse before. But killing her father- burning down the house she killed him in, then killing two of the guards that tried to arrest her?
Senior Warden: Thorne had her reasons. We instilled the right of conscription before she got hung.
Recruit: She killed three people!
Senior Warden: And she has killed a thousand more darkspawn since then. Not everyone's recruited because their sword arm's good, some people have a past.
— An overheard conversation in the Hossberg Wetlands, circa 9:52 Dragon, right before the siege of Weisshaupt.
Chloe | 15. a letter to your OC from a companion they haven’t seen in a while
Muffin,
I know, I know, 'You promised to stay in touch, tall guy! Hanged Man's boring without you!' and you're right. It always is.
Heard things were going well in Kirkwall though, so figures you don't need me. Fenris sent a letter few weeks back, said you gave your regards. Glad he still visits you.
In the same vein, Isabela sends her regards to you, says she misses you. And a few words I dare not repeat. Something about your ass, something about a phallus.
I've got a solid lead on Solas, got a good team for it too. Ever heard of Neve Gallus? Best damn detective I've ever met. Harding, one of the Inquisition scouts, is here too. And got a new one, a good one. Kinda reminds me of you, just not nearly as beautiful, strong, or iconic.
When we stop Solas, I'll be back. Next batch of drinks are on me. I'll bring Isabela too.
Always yours,
Varric Tethras
— A letter written by author Varric Tethras, adessed to the Champion of Kirkwall, Chloe Hawke, dated 9:51 Dragon.
#THANK YOU GHOST I HAD A BLAST WRITING THESE#sighs. the last one especially. mr tethras i know your ass missed the kirkwall crew#ALSO CHRONOS LOST LEG LORE#and THERESE LORE#and EMIRA AND SHIANNI TABRIS I MISS YOU TWO#my writing#<- counting it as that#roscoe rambles#oc: emira tabris#oc: chronos adaar#oc: chloe hawke#oc: therése thorne
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Where the Light Enters - Part 18
Cole/Female Inquisitor
cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, enemies to lovers, referenced noncon, mildly suicidal ideation, happy ending
word count: 4k
ao3 link
Masterlist
She could tell Solas was getting irritated with her but she couldn’t help it, it wasn’t her fault he wasn’t making any sense.
“I have to go to what?” she asked again.
“It’s called an Eluvian,” Solas said, patience clearly running thin.
“I don’t know what that is and also I’m not going,” she said, which felt like a fair counter to her.
He looked like he might strangle her. He spoke slowly, like he was talking to a child. “If we lose it, we lose this war.”
“Then someone should go get it,” she informed him helpfully.
“There may be rifts.”
“Maybe. There may be rifts anywhere,” she said.
“We need this to go smoothly. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we have to go.”
She threw her head back and groaned. “Fine. Blackwall and Varric can come then.” She didn't even think to mention Cole, he was a given.
Solas shot her another pointed look. “You need a mage,” he said through gritted teeth.
She groaned. “Fine! Come along if you must, why not? I don’t know why you even asked if you were going to strong arm me into it anyways.”
“Iron Bull is coming too.”
She threw her hands up in surrender. “I was unaware you were the new Inquisitor, congratulations. You’ll be able to approve so many stupid excursions now all on your own. Oh, and Cole is coming or I swear I will throw the biggest fit you’ve ever seen.”
“Fine,” he hissed.
“Fine,” she spat back.
It was not the most relaxed journey she’d ever taken. There appeared to be some tension amidst the group and she had a nagging suspicion she may have been to blame.
They reached the elven ruins with minimal issues, though they saw signs it had already been broken into by enemy troops. She was quietly glad they hadn’t encountered any thus far. “Can you sense your little artifact?” she asked Solas.
He shook his head. “There’s something else here, something even more powerful.”
She groaned. “You took me here without even being sure your thing actually was here?”
“I don’t know what you don’t understand about something more powerful but clearly we needed to be here.”
“Dumb luck. That’s what it is.”
He scoffed and trudged onwards into more empty temple rooms that he stared at in awe and she walked through without a care, staring at her feet as she moved.
Solas seemed well acquainted with the layout, probably through some ancient blueprints he had stowed away or something else of the sort. He took them through secret paths and alternate routes until there was suddenly no sign of enemy break-ins, only distant bangs echoing off the walls.
As they got further into the temple, Solas got more and more apprehensive. She could see it written all across his face.
“You’re right, it wasn’t dumb luck. You know something,” she said, pointing accusationally at him. “And you’re going to tell me what it is or I swear, I will leave your ass here.”
He visibly paled. “We’re so close. We cannot leave.”
“Close to what?”
“Vir'abelasan. The well of sorrows.”
Well, with a name like that, how could she not want to go visit it? “What is that? Why is it so important?”
Cole froze, cocking his head to the side. “Is that what keeps calling to me? Whispers of voices that had been. They want to be heard.”
Solas nodded. “It’s a pool that holds ancient elven knowledge. If our enemies learn their secrets, the war is as good as lost.”
“Can we just destroy it?” she asked, already having a bad feeling that she knew the answer.
Solas shook his head. “To be destroyed, it must be used one last time. The voices of the elven ancestors have to go somewhere.”
She shot him a deeply insincere smile.“Well then, today is your lucky day Solas, you get a direct hit of elven history.”
And then she saw exactly what she didn’t want to see. He flinched and she knew he would be stepping nowhere near that pool.
“It’s more complicated than that, I-”
“No,” she said, backing away. “We’re leaving.”
“There is no time. If we leave, we lose. Someone has to step into the well for us to stand a chance.”
And she already knew exactly how this was going to go.
“You’re still not telling us something,” she hissed at Solas, half ready to attack him. She wished she hadn’t given Cole her only knife.
“I cannot tell you something I do not know. There will be a price, as there always is for power, but what it is is beyond me.”
“Having a bunch of voices forced into your head is the reward?” she cried out. “I’m sorry, I thought that was the price.”
“Most people would be thrilled to hear the wisdom of ancient elves.”
“Not you, it seems,” she snapped, and that shut him up.
She did not need the others to speak up to know where they stood on the subject, and yet they spoke up anyway.
“I’m not going anywhere near it,” Bull said, and she wanted to shout at him that she was well aware of that but she couldn't see the point in it.
“I’ll do it,” said Cole, and she knew she had to plan fast, before he caught up to what she was thinking.
She turned to Bull and blurted out, “I’ll owe you one,” and without another word he scooped Cole up, pinning his arms to his sides as Cole struggled.
“You don’t owe me shit,” he said, securing Cole to himself. She hoped the pool wasn’t far. “We’ll just call it even on all the other shit, yeah?”
“Even? I thought you were still pissed at me for that?”
“I am, but I hurt you. You do this for the Inquisition, I’ll forgive you. I stop Cole from sacrificing himself, you forgive me. Square everything off.”
She nodded. “Sounds fair to me.”
Solas watched this occur, eyes wide. “Surely this is not necessary.”
She glared at him, wishing he’d pushed back more against Cole coming. “Unless you want Cole making whatever sacrifice is coming, I assure you it is.”
As they exited the room, they found they were close to the well of sorrows indeed, with it lying in the center of the very next room. She could tell what it was from the gasp that escaped Solas as he laid eyes on it.
Part of her just wanted to shove him in the water, but he seemed well aware of this, keeping his distance from the water's edge as he admired the pool.
“Let me go!” Cole shouted, writhing in Bull’s grip. “The Iron Bull, please! I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t,” he reassured the spirit. “I’ve got thick skin.”
Britches knew that Cole could absolutely hurt Bull if he wanted and sped up, walking towards the pool of water with something approaching determination.
“It could kill you,” Solas warned, though he didn’t seem to be all that interested in stopping her. “I don’t know if a human has ever taken from the well.”
She shrugged. “You could still do it.” She didn’t even wait for a response. She knew he wouldn’t, knew he’d planned all of this exactly how it was playing out, had brought this exact group to force her hand. “You know,” she said, faltering as she reached the edge of the pool, aware that she was stalling, “you were right to force this on me, Solas. I’m running out of useful years anyway. Maybe it'd be best if I die soon, while I'm still worth something.”
And then, with Cole struggling and yelling behind her, unable to slip out of his physical form as she knew he wanted desperately to do, she stepped into the water and the world faded away.
It was incredibly dark, the kind of dark that left you wondering if maybe your vision had just given out. If it weren’t for the fact that she couldn’t feel the water on her legs anymore, she might believe she had, especially after what Solas had said.
And then voices began to talk, all distant, barely understandable. It was deafening, a horrible cacophony as they all tried to be heard over the others. The horrible chorus meant she couldn't make out what any one of them was saying. All she could hear was the noise of it all.
She keeled over, unable to see whatever her knees had hit, just more dark in the black expanse of whatever void she was in.
She felt herself fading into unconsciousness, the voices overwhelming her, and wondered if there was something she was supposed to do to get out, if there was some trick to it that Solas had neglected to tell her so he could be rid of her.
Cole would’ve known. But then again, if it had been Cole, Solas wouldn’t have hidden anything in the first place. But frankly, it didn’t matter, because Solas would never have let it have been Cole at all.
As she began fading away, she wished she’d said goodbye, said anything to Cole. He’d feel so guilty if something happened to her, but she’d only been thinking of herself. Typical.
As she cracked her eyes open, escaping the endless void, she was in Skyhold. Not the medical tent she’d assumed she should be but in some random bed in an unfamiliar room, Cole and Solas the only ones who’d stuck around to watch over her. Somehow she imagined Solas’s intentions were less genuine than Cole’s.
While the blackness faded away, the voices remained, insistent and demanding attention. She couldn’t make any of them out, all echoing over the others. Surely this could not be the great power their enemies wanted, she couldn’t even make sense of it.
“It’s hard to hear you,” Cole said from where he was sitting beside her, voice low and sad. “They’re too loud.”
She couldn’t fault Cole for that. It was hard to think, the low echo of voices omnipresent behind her thoughts. It would get easier, she presumed. She would grow accustomed to tuning them out, letting them become a constant buzz in the background. This was the worst it would ever be.
And maybe Cole would get used to it too, be able to pick her out of the cacophony of voices. She found herself hoping he would, despite the fact that he was rapidly losing the power and it seemed unlikely he’d ever hear her like that again, just a voice lost to the crowd.
“What are they saying?” Solas demanded of her, looming over her bed, refusing to let Cole and her have this moment.
“I don’t know,” she said, the voices only getting worse as she tried to figure out what they were saying. “They’re too loud. Something about a dragon, I think?”
“A dragon?” Solas asked, hanging onto every word she said. “Interesting. I will go discuss this with the others.”
Neither Britches nor Cole were invited to this discussion. They were, however, grabbed by Dorian about an hour later.
“What are we doing?” Britches demanded as he dragged her out of bed.
“Dragon hunting,” Bull yelled from around the corner.
Dorian gave her an apologetic look and she shot him an incredulous one in return. “Dragon hunting? I’m recovering from an evil elf well, I’m not going dragon hunting.”
“Relax,” Bull called out. “You’ll be fine.”
“It’s not like you do much actual fighting anyway,” Dorain said, in a statement that seemed intended to be reassuring.
“Why would we hunt a dragon?” Cole asked as Britches got ready, slowly and with as many intermittent glares as she could manage.
“Practice,” Bull said. “Solas thinks we’re going to have to kill some sort of dragon to close all the rifts. There’s a bunch of groups going out to kill different dragons. No one else wanted you two so you’re stuck with us.”
“Figures.” She couldn’t think of anyone other than Varric that liked both of them, and she didn’t fancy their odds just the three of them. “Well, off we go then.”
When she was informed they were going to someplace called the Emerald Graves, she assumed it must be some sort of trick. Surely they were going to some sort of desert or icy tundra or maybe a mossy bog full of disgusting insects.
Instead, when they arrived, she saw the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. It was entirely green, a soft layer of moss and clover covering the ground between the roots of the hundreds of trees surrounding them. The trees provided them a pleasant shade, the air tinted green from the leaves, and they let just enough sunlight in to make sure the clover and spattering of flowers on the forest floor could thrive.
“Why don’t we have our base here? This is incredible,” she asked. No one bothered to respond and she quickly realized they’d begun fighting a bear while she was admiring the scenery.
Bears aside, she was more than content to wander around here, taking in the sights.
Even combat wasn’t as stressful. There were plenty of hiding places for her, the ground softened by the moss, leaving her happy and comfortable.
There were a lot of creatures in these woods, presumably drawn here by the same comfortable parts of the environment she was. It was no wonder the giants and bears had chosen this over freezing cold or endless sand.
Her companions could handle it though.
Cole kept stopping to grab handfuls of flowers as they walked, temporarily falling behind and then running to catch up. He braided their stems in his hand, creating a little rope of rainbow flowers that hung almost to his knees.
She did her best to pin it around the band of his hat, though Bull and Dorian refused to stop for them so they didn’t have long before they had to run back to the group.
It seemed a bit hypocritical because Dorian and Bull seemed to have no problem wasting time. They were almost obsessively flirty and touchy with one another, although Bull tended to be the instigator of the affection while Dorian just seemed flustered. She ensured they knew where she stood on the issue by loudly dry heaving whenever they got too affectionate.
Eventually, the calm of their lovely stroll, with only a few dozen bears along the path, had to be interrupted. The roar of the dragon certainly did that.
The noise shook the ground, not enough to actually move her but it made her legs feel weak anyway.
Cole quickly tucked her away in some ruins, promising they’d come back for her, and it occurred to her that she wouldn’t even be able to see them as they fought. One of them could die and she wouldn’t even know.
“Stay safe,” she said, pressing a kiss into his cheek.
Cole grinned, seeming excited by Bull’s excitement to face the dragon. “The thoughts are never this loud anymore, cheer and joy and energy.”
“Just be careful,” she said, not feeling quite as enthused as he seemed to be.
And then they left and she was alone.
She strained to hear them but she couldn’t make out anything. It was hard enough with the newfound voices incessantly screaming inside her head, with the roars of the dragon echoing through the forest she stood no chance.
And so all she could do was wait.
She had no idea how long had passed. It felt like hours, sitting there with the ambiance of an angry dragon. It might well have been minutes. Maybe she should have been counting. At least it would have given her something to do.
She decided to take the roars of the dragon as a good sign. It may have meant the dragon wasn’t dead, but at least it meant that she was still agitated. That probably meant at least one of them was still there, causing problems for her.
As long as Cole walked out of there she didn’t care much what happened to the rest of them.
As time ticked on and on, she wanted to call them back, to say that nothing could be this important. To tell them that this was all a stupid idea and they never should have decided to fight this thing.
But with all the noise and the chaos, she’d have to get right up to them to do that. And she couldn’t do it, couldn’t manage it without dying. Even if they made it out alive, she doubted she would. If she did, there was a good chance it would be due to someone else’s sacrifice and that she would not risk. Selfish as it was, she’d rather them die out there alone than die because of her foolhardiness. It would be easier to live with if it wasn’t her fault.
So instead she cowered, waiting to see if any of them would come back to her.
Eventually, they did, although they were clearly a little worse for wear. All their clothes were a little singed and shredded and almost all of the flowers had been knocked off of Cole’s hat but they all smiled at her, well everyone except for Dorian who was staring down, disgruntled, at his fine clothes that had been ruined.
He didn’t have much time to mourn the fine silks because before long, Bull lifted him into the air with a whoop, throwing the mage over his shoulder and shouting, “Let’s make camp!”
She didn’t let herself run to them, to show any great relief or sign of how worried she’d been as they returned to her. She just smiled at Cole and just hoped he could read it off her face now that he could no longer peer into her head.
They set up two tents and Britches did her best not to make half a dozen derisive comments in response to it, only rolling her eyes a few times at Dorian and Bull.
Say what you will about her and Cole, at least they weren’t this obnoxious.
She got fed up with them pretty quickly and retreated into their tent, dragging Cole in behind her with only a few rude comments from Bull following them.
Cole seemed almost nervous, which was absurd considering how often they’d shared a room, or in this case a tent.
“You okay?” she asked, laying out their bedrolls one beside the other so he could sprawl out. She barely took up any room anyway, it wasn’t like she needed the space.
“I think I’m aroused.” He didn’t say it the way he usually spoke about these things, with a lack of shame, if occasionally a little shyness coming just from her gaze. He instead looked mortified.
She shrugged, trying to assuage his fears. “Honestly, I think that’s pretty normal after a big fight. Adrenaline is pumping and all that.”
“But you’re not?” he said, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “At least I don’t think you are.”
She shook her head. “Not really. I’m sure you’ll find a way to survive.”
But he didn’t look upset at her for not engaging with him, he looked devastated.
“Are you okay,” she asked, pulling his chin up to force him to look her in the eyes.
“I’m like them,” he whispered.
“What?”
“I want you even when you don’t want me and that makes me like them.”
“It absolutely does not. In fact, I’d say you resisting those urges makes you unequivocally not like them.”
He collapsed into her chest with a huff, settling on her stomach like it was a pillow. She pulled his hat off and tucked it beside them so she could run her hands through his hair. “Better?”
He huffed and settled, pushing his head back into her hand like a cat. “If you say so. I don’t like not being able to hear you properly.”
“You can hear me just fine in all the ways that count.”
He didn’t seem to like that answer but he let it rest, content to just lay with her in silence.
And then they heard a moan from the other tent and Britches burst out laughing. “Well that didn’t take them long.”
Cole shook his head. “Dorian was getting desperate.”
“Gross.”
“I’ve heard the adrenaline will do that to you,” he said, and she could feel him smile against her stomach.
“You are such a little shit,” she said, giving him a playful swat to the head.
He pounced on her in return, starting a small bout of wrestling that she giggled her way through and won entirely due to her own merit and not because anyone let her win.
When she’d pinned him properly, she collapsed atop him, ready to go to sleep like that.
He just wrapped his arms around her in return, seeming perfectly happy to be crushed underneath her for the rest of the night.
#dai cole#cole dai#cole dragon age#dragon age cole#dragon age inquisition#dai#colemance#where the light enters#In which Solas outplays britches#I love their dynamic so much enemies for life#ignore the lore inaccuracies here ive changed the lore a bit to suit the narrative#it works better this was just trust me
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