#learn more to figure out that its not all that simple and there are experiences beyond your comprehension
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
pageofheartdj · 2 months ago
Text
You know it's annoying how people accept gender being a complex thing. How the way you identify and the way you present are not the same. How complicated and fluid your gender can be.
And then turn around and deny ALL of it for sexuality. That sexuality is binary and strict.
23 notes · View notes
nepenthendline · 3 months ago
Text
you've corrupted the chief justice - neuvillette x reader (ft wriothesley)
summary: you and wriothesley have a full conversation about your sex life with neuvillette without saying a single word
a/n: this is neuvillette x reader but its mainly focused on wriothesley, wriothesley being a menance, neuvillette has no idea what the fuck is going on, complete choas, mentions of sex but sfw otherwise, no mention of gender, poor writing but oh well
Tumblr media
Once every few weeks, the 4 of you, which includes Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Furina, and yourself, finally get a chance where your schedules aline to relax together. These times are always held in Neuvillette's office with a table full of cakes, desserts, and teas to snack on as you catch up. Since your relationship with the Iudex began, you've grown close to those Neuvillette sees as family and look forward to these peaceful reunions.
You were all sat around the table, with Neuvillette on your left, Wriothesley in front of you and Furina on your right. Neuvillette and Furina had been discussing some recent trials for a while now - you nor Wriosthesley had much to add, neither of you had much involvement when it came to the trials, but you listened in whilst enjoying your desserts.
After a few minutes, you felt something nudge your leg under the table from in front of you. With furrowed brows, you looked up towards Wriothesley to see him looking back at you with a mischievous smirk. Oh, archons... you've seen this look a few times - when he's bored and thought of something to entertain himself
His eyes darted between you and Neuvillette, his finger subtly following, pointing at the both of you. Then, his index finger and thumb joined together to create a circle, whilst his other index finger poked in and out of said circle. With his brow raised, you could tell he was asking you.
You stifled a chuckle as his immaturity before nodding smugly to answer his question - yes, the two of you have had sex.
He nodded along, his smirk growing larger as if to say he knew, then pondered for a moment, looking at the Iudex next to him. Seconds later, he looked back to you, raising 1 finger, then all 10 whilst mouthing '1 to 10' and flashing his eyes at your partner.
You covered your mouth with your hand as if to be in thought, but truly, you were trying to stop yourself from laughing at his antics - discussing such activities in front of the Chief Justice and Archon. Despite having no experience or even desire before you, Neuvillette was quick to learn when it came to pleasuring you, and he was certainly enthusiastic. You held up all 10 fingers, close to the table, to not draw too much attention.
Wriothesley's mouth formed an 'o' shaped, slightly taken back by your rating of his boss, but seemed to get past it quickly. He leaned forward in his seat, pointed between 2 of the cakes on the decorated table, and then looked at you. Your head tilted, glancing between the cakes and the man in front of you, trying to figure out what he meant. Then, you realised the difference between the two desserts - one was vanilla and one was chocolate. You could only assume he was trying to decipher whether Neuvillette was a simple vanilla lover or someone more adventurous.
You blew air into your cheeks, slouching back into your chair whilst in thought. Neuvillette certainly wasn't what you would describe as 'kinky', in fact, even associating that word with him makes you shiver a little, but he was open to trying whatever you desired. There were more daring things that he liked, such as having his hair pulled, messing around in places where he may get caught, or having you take control. He was learning, after all, about himself, about you, and about sex in general, so who knew what undiscovered things he was into.
You held out your finger and wiggled it between the 2 cakes and shrugged - you couldn't really give a clear answer to that one at the moment.
The Duke slumped back into his chair, staring at you with a devilish look for what felt like minutes. You squinted your eyes at him playfully - what was he thinking?
A few moments later, his hands were held in front of him, parallel to each other as if... to measure something. You shook your head at him in disbelief, sucking on your cheeks to hold back a grin. His hands were probably about 5 inches apart - certainly not big enough for the dragon.
'Bigger,' you mouthed at him and watched as his eyes grew wide. His hands moved apart slightly, perhaps 2 or so inches further apart.
'Bigger,' you mouthed again, the smirk on your face breaking through your facade. His jaw dropped.
'Are you two quite alright?' A deep voice startled you both away from your intense discussion. You hadn't realised that the other two had stopped talking a while ago.
'Never been better actually,' Wriothesley piped up, finally taking his eyes of you to face Neuvillette.
'Were you... having a discussion?' Neuvillette tentatively asked - he's been trying to learn about humans for 500 years, but he had no idea what he just witnessed. 'You two look like crabs trying to communicate,' he added. It almost sounded like an insult in his blunt voice, but you knew he meant that as a fact.
'Oh yes, a very productive, important discussion,' Wriothesley trails off, looking back at you with his brow raised. You gasped quietly at his response,
'Don't you dare-' you threated before he cuts you off, speaking up again, but this time with a face of pure horror,
'Wait! Have you...in here?' His eyes darted around the room as his interrogation continued. You couldn't help but giggle as you nodded, not missing the pure confusion on Neuvillette and Furina's faces.
He let out a dramatic gasp, gripping the armrests on his chair, then pointed at you.
'Jail time,' he jokingly declared. You threw your head back in laughter at his statement, clutching your sides.
'Wriosthesley, are you insinuating my beloved has committed a crime?' The Iudex questioned, his face as serious as if he were in the Opera House. However, you could see the cracks of bewilderment come through.
'Yes - put them on trial for corrupting the Chief Justice,' Wriothesley demanded, standing from his chair and pointing at you. Your laughter grew harder at his performance.
'I have done no such thing!' You declared, almost yelled, back at him. You could see his chest shake from the giggles he was trying to hold back.
'You disgust me. He was innocent before he met you,' he spat out. His words were so forced and dramatised, yet he was smiling? This was making Neuvillette's brain hurt.
'Wriosthesley,' he warned, narrowing his eyes at him - no one spoke to his partner like that, not even his family. Between your laughter, you placed your hand on your partners thigh to comfort him,
'He's just joking, it's ok,' you could see Neuvillette's body soften at your words, although it didn't clear up anything that was going on. Wriothesley sat back down in his chair, shaking his head at you whilst grinning.
'You little minx,' he muttered, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip. The room died down for a few moments, but the atmosphere was thick. You looked towards Furina, who hadn't said a word yet, and saw her cheeks were bright red.
'Monsieur Neuvillette, I-I think they may have been discussing your...private activites with dear (y/n),' she stuttered, picking up her plate of cake and stuffing it into her mouth.
'Oh,' normally you could read your partner easily, but right now you had no idea if he was confused, calm, angry?
'I'm sorr-'
'You could have just asked, Wriothesley.'
658 notes · View notes
itoshiexx · 5 months ago
Text
blossoming love
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis: sae is not good with words, so he communicates with flowers instead. / or, every time itoshi sae gave you a bouquet in significant moments.
pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 2.9k | warnings: fluffy fluff, tiny bit of angst if u squint, rin and sae’s relationship isn’t fucked up, kinda proofread, ooc sae maybe? i love him tho, its really just three thousand words of him talking about love
notes: this idea has been on my mind for a while since i adore the language of flowers, and even tho sae is probably ooc, i really liked the final result ♥ also i'm trying a new layout so lmk if y'all like it~ and finally thank u so much for 2.5k followers, i love you all sm!!
masterlist
Tumblr media
i. sunflowers for a confession
never has itoshi sae been so painfully aware of his flaws and limitations quite like the day he realized he liked you as more than a friend. because, even though he wasn’t the type of guy to wait for the universe to give him everything he wished for, anyone within three miles could see how absolutely awful he was at communicating.
so that was the dilemma: how could he express his feelings to you if the words just didn’t come out?
“flowers.”
“huh?”
rin was sitting at the couch in their parent’s home, a paused horror movie on the tv. sae didn’t even notice he started mumbling and spilling his secret crush to the younger itoshi, and the tips of his ears went red at that. he was supposed to be the smooth, suave, aloof kind of guy that gave his little brother some love advice, and not the other way around.
(not as if any of them had some kind of experience. emotional intelligence didn’t really run in the bloodline.)
“just give them flowers, nii-chan. did you know each of them has meanings? it could help you express yourself.”
“you mean like… the language of flowers or some shit?”
rin rolled his eyes, but nodded.
“just try not to use ‘some shit’. i don’t think they’re into that,” he joked, and sae could only grimace and send him the middle finger.
but as much as he didn’t want to admit, his brother was right. you were special, and you deserved the best he could give — even if it wasn’t much. he was going to learn how to be better for you, but meanwhile, the language of flowers should suffice. 
the first time you receive a bouquet from itoshi sae, they are beautiful blooms of sunflowers, expressing his adoration towards you. the small card that comes with it has a simple question:
go out with me?
ii. white gardenias and the start of something new
your first date with the pro-footballer is something simple yet sophisticated, a dinner at a famous restaurant he rented just for you two. the dim lights make everything more romantic, and your heart is beating so loud you’re afraid sae might hear it from the other side of the table. despite the euphoria that leaves you nearly breathless, you manage to talk during the night while he mostly just listens.
itoshi sae is not familiar with dates — not actual ones, at least —, so to say he was nervous was an understatement. however, he hid it well behind his nonchalant persona, even if meant avoid talking just so he didn’t fuck things up. 
sae was never a talker, anyway. and it was long ago he figured he’d rather listen to the sound of your voice and drown in the image of your sparkly eyes every time you were excited about something. 
when dinner is over and sae drives to drop you home, you’re a little shocked to see him take another flower arrangement from the floor of the backseat, just hidden enough so you didn’t notice during your ride. the petals are a pure white color with beautiful twirls, and you can’t help but gape.
“is that… is that for me?”
sae wants to scream, because of course they are for you — who else could they be for? as if he’d ever look at anyone when you’re the brightest light shining on his life.
inevitably, you’re all itoshi sae can see.
“they are gardenias,” he simply says, fighting the heat that climbs through his neck. he pushes the bouquet a little more towards you. “they made me think of you.”
your chest swells with affection, and the sweet aroma of the blooms mixed with sae’s perfume makes you a little dizzy. you only realize how close he is when his nose touches yours, hands grazing your left cheek as if you’re something fragile that he’s scared to break.
but he kisses you anyway. his mouth is delicate against yours, trying to convey his longing as a complement to the flowers on your hold.
when your lips part and you finally say goodbye, you’re certain that sae has blossomed an entire garden in your heart. starting with the white gardenias that mean new beginnings, affection and a revelation of a secret love. 
iii. blue hyacinths for an apology
sae knows how much of an asshole he can be. contrary to popular belief, he knows how sharp his words can feel and how mean his voice can sound. even if he wasn’t exactly self aware, his brother rin would sure be able to spit it to his face every time they argued. 
it wasn’t like he always meant it. sure, he didn’t care about his behavior towards the media or people he found particularly annoying (pretty much everyone), but there were people in his life that he cherished; people he didn’t want to hurt. the thing is, itoshi sae was just really, really awkward when it came to his own emotions, and he was the worst at saying how he felt. 
it’s a few months into your relationship that sae learns he would rather never play football again than make you cry. it’s a silly argument, really — he doesn’t even remember what he gets so worked up for. maybe it’s jet lag that makes him lash out on you, but it doesn’t really matter when he sees your eyes glisten and a little sniffle comes out of your lips.
“i’m s-sorry,” you say, uneasy in a way that makes his stomach churn. he wants to wipe that expression off your face, and beat himself up for being the one who put it there. 
him and his stupid ass mouth, as rin would say.
“what? why are you saying that?” his tone is more exasperated than he intends to, and god, why can’t he just shut the fuck up?
“i didn’t mean to annoy you or make things harder… i know you’re tired from your game and i… i’m sorry, sae.”
he should be the one apologizing for being an idiot, he knows; but the words are so foreign to his system that sae doesn’t even know how to put the letters together. it’s only when you pick up your stuff and leave his apartment without another word that the pro-player is shaken out of his stupor.
“fuck,” he curses under his breath. “fucking hell, sae.”
he hates that he hurt you, hates that he doesn’t know how to fix it and hates it even more that his little brother lectures him on the phone later that day, when he calls to vent.
“you already were a shitty brother, so don’t be a shitty boyfriend too,” are rin’s exact words. 
okay, ouch. kinda stings, but he figures he deserves it.
it’s almost 9pm when sae goes to your house, two bags of your favorite treats resting on his forearm while he holds the carefully chosen bouquet. the surprise on your face when you open the door makes his heart reel, though the glimmer of happiness is what makes it all worth it.
“i messed up”, is what he says as soon as he can before you decide to kick him out. “i didn’t mean to snap at you like that and… i’m sorry. i never want to hurt you.”
you take the blue hyacinths from his grasp and look at them fondly before smiling, and sae thinks the sun is shining again. he’s eternally grateful you understand the sincerity and the regret that comes from those tiny petals.
iv. red roses and the epiphanic awareness of love 
journalists from all around the world are well aware of how much itoshi sae hates interviews. it is always pretty clear with the bored — if not extremely annoyed — expression on his face and the rude answers that make anyone break a cold sweat. he doesn’t like stupid questions (all of them) and much less when the press tries to meddle in his personal business. 
it wasn’t new to be asked about his romantic relationships, and this particular topic was something that made sae scowl and diss whatever nosy, lukewarm journalist decided to pry to earn a penny. by now, everyone knows that inquiring if the midfielder is dating anyone is forbidden territory.
still, the media keeps trying to find small loopholes in what they really want to know, questions safe enough to not enrage the itoshi. it’s one of those that makes sae’s world come to a halt in the middle of a press conference in italy.
“itoshi, can you tell us about the things you love most in life?”
his brain instantly shuts down, and suddenly, sae is no longer in a room with hundreds of microphones and cameras shoved on his face, but instead in a cozy little picnic at the beach with you by his side.
if he was being honest, sae never really thought about things like love for most of his life; and not just the romantic one, but love as a whole. sure, he knew he loved his parents and his little brother, but they were parts of his life he didn’t choose, almost as if those feelings were meant to be there ever since he was born.
thinking about his life growing up, he could never really tell if what he felt was ‘love’ or just ‘like’. did he love soccer? did he love salted kombucha tea? did he love the beach? or were all these things temporary fulfillments that could end at any minute? this feeling was such a difficult concept for sae that he never bothered to actually search for answers. 
but you’ve been dating for seven months now — and sae simply knows, as a universal truth written down his bones, that the feelings he has for you are too otherworldly to fit inside the mere perception of ‘like’. liking you doesn’t do justice to the way his heart leaps and his chest is filled with happiness and peace and anxiousness and euphoria all at once whenever he thinks of you.
it’s the strangest epiphany of the century, he thinks, but that is the exact moment itoshi sae is sure you are the sole definition of love. 
he loves you. he loves you the most in life.
and even if life is hard, because the world always is, loving you amongst this chaos is the easiest thing sae has ever done.
so when he comes back from his trip and you stay over at his penthouse, he tries to demonstrate this overflowing feeling when he touches you and kisses you and makes you fall apart just to put you back together. and when the morning comes and you paddle to the kitchen for breakfast, he is there holding the prettiest bunch of classical red roses with the faintest blush on his face. 
you’re beautiful even with your unruly hair and bleary eyes, and sae is certain he will never get tired of seeing you smile for him. 
with his throat clogged with emotion, the words don’t come out. but you take the flowers in your gentle embrace and kiss him with such fondness and infatuation that he can’t help but wish you understand the deep, unconditional love he feels for you.
“i love you too, baby.”
and thankfully, you always do.
v. pink camellias for longing
longing wasn’t a feeling sae was particularly used to. 
when he left japan at the ripe age of 14, the first few months were especially harsh, since he was in a foreign country with a totally different language and culture. sae found himself missing the place he grew up, not so much for the place itself, but for the comfort its familiarity could bring. he missed rin, too. 
but as time passed and itoshi sae transformed, he stopped viewing japan and everything it had as his home, solely becoming a wandering soul in the big, cruel world. the athlete, then, longed for nothing but to be the best. 
however, he realized that life as he knew would never be the same after falling in love with you, for those feelings were strong as tidal waves, all-consuming and capable of changing everything in its course. 
everytime he was away, sae really fucking missed you.
“how long will you be gone for?”
even before he left. 
“…a month.” 
his voice is low and slightly hesitant. you’re together on the living room couch, watching a shitty rom-com movie that sae hates but always watches because it’s your favorite. his arms are around you while your back rests against his chest, and he feels a little dizzy — whether it’s from your sweet perfume or the fear inside of him, he doesn’t quite know.
though he will never admit it, the midfielder is always scared whenever he has to leave for longer periods of time. because what if you get tired of him? what if you start feeling so alone and neglected you end up hating him? the thought alone is enough to make him want to throw up. 
you turn around to face him, and the little pout of your lips suddenly has him feeling sick. 
“so long? you really have to?”
he sighs, because yeah, unfortunately, he does have to stay that long to follow the team along the season. even if he’d rather stay with you and just fly near game days.
“yeah. i’m sorry, mi amor.”
sae lets you turn around fully and adjust yourself on his lap, each leg sitting comfortably around his hips. both of his hands are immediately holding on your waist, as if afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t. 
“don’t apologize, handsome. i know it’s your job. i’m just gonna miss you a lot.”
he has the urge to kiss your sullen look away, and it’s exactly what he does. his lips touch yours with the same tenderness they always do, but there’s a certain urgency in the way his mouth moves and his tongue carefully glides with yours, as if he’s trying to convey just how much more he will miss you.
because although no one would ever believe him, he always misses you more.
“i wish i could stay here with you,” he says when you part, and the little bashful smile you give him makes his heart soar. 
“but you love what you do, though.”
yeah, but i love you more. the thought is something that has been plaguing his mind during the nearly two years you’ve been together, because sae never expected to have something — or rather someone — who would become his entire world quite like how you do. it’s frightening and dreadful and not what he wished for himself, but sae can’t say that he hates it. there’s nothing about you or the gentleness of your love that he can hate.
that’s why when the time of his trip comes, a beautiful bouquet of pink camellias is placed on your kitchen island, and you know it’s his way of showing his longing for you.
vi. amaranthus and the promise of forever
even if many people disagree, sae knows he is always right. it’s how he knew you were the one even before he had you, and more so even before he realized he wanted you. somehow, it’s always been a truth his mind couldn’t ignore.
it’s on a lazy sunday morning at your shared apartment that itoshi sae is taken by a sudden urge of asking you to marry him. 
there’s nothing extraordinary about the scenery; just you making him a snack after waking up from your — now shared — 3pm nap, hair tied in a bun, swaying your hips while stirring the food on the frying pan. he hugs you from behind and rests his head on your shoulder, nosing at the crook of your neck in an attempt to absorb all that you are. you giggle with the ticklish feeling, and the warmth that spreads through his chest somehow doesn’t feel weird anymore.
somehow, it’s now something he deeply cherishes. sae can only describe being with you as pure bliss.
and he’s always been selfish, a true egoist to its core. it’s why he’s faced with his deepest desire to have the honor of spending a lifetime by your side, if only you’ll have him.
he’s had the ring for a while now, hidden behind several socks in his drawer. it might as well be the time, he thinks; a lazy sunday afternoon that has nothing grandiose. sae was never one for big gestures anyway.
so when you both finish eating, sae tells you he’ll be out for a jog, and you just hum with your pretty smile. his heart is beating abnormally fast when he goes to the flower shop, and by the time he’s back home, he thinks it might just explode.
but this… you are it for him, he’s certain. the same way he was certain four years ago, when your love started to blossom until it became the prettiest garden.
and when sae is down on one knee asking the most important question of his life, ring box in one hand and the bouquet of amaranthus on the other, the teary smile and whispered “yes” you give makes him certain that, no matter what, your love will be eternal.
Tumblr media
© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.
415 notes · View notes
chxrryhansen · 11 months ago
Text
౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s SStan Series Rec List
here are my sebastian stan series fic recs! they are mostly bucky barnes series but mainly Au’s! i will be creating separate lists for cevans one shots and sstan one shots😚
Clockwork - @sgt-seabass
When life seems to be finally back on track, a visit by a mob boss to your dainty town changes everything. (Dark!Alpha Nick Fowler)
The Soldat And The Sparrow - @navybrat817
Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you'll be free. Both of you.
For The Love Of The Game - @pellucid-constellations
Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it. 
The Heart Is A Deep Ocean - @dreamlessinparis
Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.
Everything’s Better In WestView - @espinosaurusrexex
Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.
The Bride Of Soldat - @vampy-doll
In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.
Awake My Soul - @foreverindreamlandd
It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Guiding Light - @wkemeup
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.
The Witness - @wkemeup
Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.
Under Oath - @ugh-supersoldiers
The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.
Just One Kiss - @sarahwroteathing
Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?
He’s Hazardous To My Health - @writing-for-marvel
Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?
Just Try - @waiting4inspiration
Perfectly happy with your life at the Avengers’ compound, an alpha walks into your life, flipping it completely over and revealing secrets you hoped you had buried a long time ago.
Дорогая - @waiting4inspiration
Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.
Red Ties - @sebstan2020
Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend Owens. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.
Delicate Edges - @wkemeup
Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Pride And Privacy - @adrinktostopyourthirst
Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.
Feelings Are Fatal - @sunmoonandeddie
After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.
Appointments - @noctumbra
bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him. 
Lazarus - @sagechanoafterdark
Things are complicated between you and James Barnes. For you, life doesn’t mean much when you never stay dead for very long. But it might just be an ex-soviet assassin that convinces you to start living again.
Its A Deal - @justreadingfics
You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.  
The Two Of Us - @bucky-bucket-barnes
You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.
Snow - @delaber
Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.
All Good Things - @sagechanoafterdark
After only three days of dealing with the annoying specter haunting you, you break the rules and accidently give a ghost a body. So what do you do when you find out the man you’re now sharing your your apartment with isn’t really a ghost and that haunted touch is a little warmer than you realized?
Welcome Home… Soldat? - @winterarmyy
Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
Heavy Metal Lover - @mypoisonedvine
every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional. (Sub!Bucky Barnes + Dominatrix!Reader)
Parent-Teacher Conference - @coffeecatsandcandles
James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.
Duck & Cover - @whirlybirbs
you’re the howling commandos’ new medic (Sniper!Bucky Barnes)
Winter’s Mate - @maggyme13
The Winter Soldier threatens to get out of control with his instincts taking over more and more. After years of supressed ruts his body built up a resistance and Hydra need to find another solution. Deciding it would be the easiest to just give in. Hydra kidnapped the reader to turn her into a Omega in Heat using injections whenever needed.
Key’s In Your Ignition - @georgiapeach30513
Caught up in a sexual relationship with your father’s Vice President, and trying to not get caught.  Blind to everything else that’s going on in the club, and even your old crush, Bucky Barnes.  Not even noticing your brother and best friend flirting, until your father suddenly passes, and things in the club drastically change. (Ari Levinson + Bucky Barnes + Harvard Hottie- Hayden)
809 notes · View notes
ladykailitha · 1 month ago
Text
The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 14
Hey guys! Welcome back! So this chapter is getting a little heavy on the angsty side, so just a heads up.
Things have been going great for all the stories especially the Christmas one.
This will be the story that keeps its usual schedule next week. Every other posting day will be finishing up the Olympic Swimmer one. So be on the look out for that.
Also super long chapter!
Steve tries out some hobbies, Joyce pushes, and Steve gets depressed.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13
~
Steve would like to say he got right on the job search the next day, but he really didn’t. He woke up refreshed and feeling good about himself. After a run on the treadmill and big breakfast he had already talked himself out needing to.
But instead he decided that he wanted to learn new hobbies. He had the money and pretty much unlimited time so why not?
The first thing he tried felting. Yeah, he had a lot of money, but he wanted to start with something cheap in case he got bored with it.
Taking the kit out of the box, he already ran into a problem. The leather finger gloves were much too small. Like he didn’t have fat fingers or anything but they were much too tight to fit on even his pinkie fingers he turned them inside out to see if he could make them bigger somehow.
He only succeeded in ruining the finger gloves. He tried rubber thimbles as replacements but still the sharp tool would pierce even the tough rubber.
The kit sat abandoned in a corner of his hotel room until one of the porters saw it and asked if he could have it. His sister did the felting all the time and she was having trouble finding colors she liked.
So Steve let him have it. Three days later the porter came back with a bright yellow canary and a female robin. He proudly displayed them on his nightstand next to the phone and alarm clock.
Robin loved them, but refused to take the robin. She said they shouldn’t be separated at any price.
Steve loved her a little bit more when she said that.
The next thing he tried was painting.
That lasted all of six hours before they got handed off to Will. It was a beautiful oil, acrylic, and water color set, with all the paint brushes and pallet and metal wood-handled pallet knives.
It lasted that long was because that was the time it took for Steve to set everything up, including an old sheet Rosa let him have, start painting and promptly knock everything over. The water, the paints, the easel. Everything. He broke the easel, knocked a hole in the canvas, and smeared paint all over the apron he had bought just for the occasion.
Will was happy to receive the paints, but in turn he gave Steve a simple notepad and pencil and taught him how to draw.
Steve liked that.
It was just for doodling and making silly pictures so it didn’t make him feel like a failure. He went to the bookstore and bought a bunch of books on how to draw certain things. Animals, the human figure. He even found this great reference book on clothes sorted based on the English monarch who was in power at the time the were wore.
Which was all well and good, but it wasn’t exactly what he wanted.
One day while he was over at Will’s talking art and whether or not kneaded erasers were worth the pain they caused if you dropped, Ellie introduced him to a new hobby. Will was against the things, Steve was for.
Jonathan huffed, “That’s probably a class issue as Steve here can afford to replace them and Will can’t.”
Steve and Will stared at each other in complete shock, but had to admit that Jonathan was probably right.
“Yeah, okay,” Steve huffed, “that’s fair. I guess I really didn’t think about it because it’s not my money I’m spending.”
“Have you tried looking for a job?” Joyce asked. She didn’t like that someone was paying to keep Steve safe. As nice as it was, in her experience the well tended to dry up when you least expected it to.
Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mrs. Byers.” Which he had. Yes, he had been focused on trying to learn things that would keep his mind from atrophying, he had also been looking. “If they seen me coming they take down the sign or if they don’t get to it in time, they say it’s an old sign and that they forgot to take it down.”
Joyce’s shoulders slumped in sympathy. The rumor around town is that because Mr. Harrington was the landlord for a lot of the properties that the businesses were on, he had threatened to raise their rent if they gave Steve a job.
Something that all the adults promised not to tell Steve so that he wouldn’t get so discouraged as to not try at all.
But surely Clint Harrington didn’t own every business in Hawkins and she told Steve so.
“No,” Steve huffed. “But he’s friends with ones that he doesn’t. I’m going to try the mall next. Most of the them are franchises and have their main bosses outside of Hawkins.”
She let out a little sigh of relief. It showed that Steve was trying and actively thinking of these types of pitfalls.
Steve shifted uncomfortably. “What have you got there, Ellie?” he asked trying to shift the focus off of him for a moment.
Joyce was watching Ellie while Hopper was at work.
The young girl held up long satin strings of embroidery thread. She had three shades of pink, a white, and a red. She tied the ends to a safety pin that was pinned her leg.
“I’m making friendship bracelets for me and Max,” Ellie said proudly. “The pink is for me, and then I have these colors for her!” She held up blues and purples.
“That’s way cool!” Steve said scooting over to sit next to her.
Jonathan and Will shared a smile. Steve was lost to the shiny allure of friendship bracelets.
“I could teach you if you like,” she said with a smile. “I also have boondoggle!” She held up shiny plastic strips. “I make key chains and other things that need to last a lot longer than the thread.”
Steve really lit up, but then frowned when he saw out intricate it all was. “I’ll never be do anything that fancy.”
Ellie sat closer and pulled out a little paper that she had in her caboodle. “I couldn’t at first either, so I went to the library and took out a book on all the different ways you could plait and how to do boondoggle. Then I copied a couple of the pages I wanted to try.”
She handed it to him and pointed to the easiest. “That’s the one I started with and it will probably take a little bit to get the spacing right.”
Steve tilted his head. “Is this like braiding hair?”
“Yes!” Ellie said excitedly. “That’s right. I forgot you braid Max’s hair all the time. So then it will be easy for you.”
Soon they were off in their own little world.
Joyce watched with her arms crossed and a concerned expression. Jonathan spotted her and shook his head. He stood up and went to stand next to her.
“You’ve got to let it go, Mom,” he said gently. “You aren’t his mom and even if you were, he’s still an adult. As near as anyone of can tell, whoever is footing this bill isn’t in it to exploit Steve, just making sure he’s taken care of.”
Joyce breathed out through her nose as she tried not to snap at her son. She didn’t know that as a fact and Hopper’s reassurances weren’t enough. She hated having to take his word that whoever this was wouldn’t harm Steve. And that galled.
“It’s all the expensive gifts,” she tried to explain. “The car, the unlimited credit card, cash drops weekly, the gold necklace, the hotel. It’s just not right, it’s not decent.”
Jonathan shook his head. “What about all the non-expensive gifts? Things this benefactor thought Steve would like or get a kick out of? Like that little canary with top hat that he keeps on his dashboard? Or all the music tapes they send, thinking Steve might want to try something different. Hell, according to Steve until they left the country, they talked once or twice a day. That doesn’t sound like someone out to hurt him.”
She let out a shuddering sigh. Because Jonathan was right, that didn’t sound like someone trying to use Steve. “I know.”
Jonathan patted on her shoulder and then went into his room, probably to call Nancy. Another person like his mom who worried Steve was being taken advantage of. But even if he was, that was a lesson he was going to have to learn the hard way.
On his own.
Will had long since left to go hang out with Mike while Ellie and Steve made friendship bracelets. He made four. A black, red, and dark grey one for Eddie, a red, a brown, and a light grey one for Robin and two yellow, white, and black ones. So he could one each to Eddie and Robin.
“Those are really pretty, Steve,” Ellie congratulated him. “Those are some interesting color choices.” Spoken as though she was silently judging, but too polite to say so.
He blushed and held up the first one. “This is for my special friend, they are his favorite colors.” Then he held up the second. “And this is for Robin. The colors remind me of a female robin and the last two represent who I am now.”
Ellie blinked for a moment as she took in the information. “I can see that now. Thank you for explaining it to me.”
“I get my thread at Melvand’s,” she said serenely, “if you wanted to continue to make more, that’s where you would go to get your own.”
Steve kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, Ellie.”
He didn’t stay much longer than that, now that both of the other boys were gone, Joyce was keeping too close an eye on him with Ellie. He knew it wasn’t the gay thing as she didn’t mind Will being around her. And it wasn’t being a barely legal adult considering she would gladly leave Jonathan to look over her.
Nope.
It was entirely because she didn’t know who Steve’s mysterious benefactor was. And the thought of this unknown, probably male, person might hear about Ellie later? Yeah, that’s where she drew her invisible line.
Which was bullshit, like with Robin’s mom, Eddie wasn’t going to prey on little girls. He was freaking out about Steve might be underage when they met in the club. But it wasn’t like he could tell Joyce that. She might revoke his time with Will and Ellie if she learned he had been underaged drinking that night. The night Eddie saved him.
Steve went up to his hotel room and flopped face first into his bed. He was tired. Tired of all the questions about finding a job and getting out from under Eddie’s thumb. Like Eddie was financially abusing him or whatever.
He just wanted to bring people to his hotel room and show them all the little things Eddie sent him just because he walked into a gas station and saw something cute he thought he would like. The keychain from Kansas City with his name on it. The bright yellow shirt that said “I don’t take no shit” and had the Iowan state bird of the American goldfinch. That one came with a little note explaining that it was a canary, but the black on the wings reminded Eddie of the deliciously tight black leather pants.
Steve blushed for hours after that one.
He wiggled onto the bed and crawled under the covers without having taken off any of his clothes. Maybe he could hibernate until Eddie got back in America.
~
Steve managed to bury himself under the covers before the porter with the felting sister ripped the blanket off from over his head.
He stared blearily up at the porter. “Martin?” He struggled to sit up, but flopped back down on the pillow in distress. “Just leave me alone.”
“It’s Marty actually,” the porter huffed. “The only people that call me Martin are my boss and my mom. You’re not either.”
“Marty, I just want to go back to sleep.”
Marty pulled the rest of the blankets and yanked Steve off the bed. He went with a startled yelp. He leapt to his feet to fight him, but he saw that Bob and Rosa were standing by his bed with looks of concern on their faces.
“I have the shower running,” Bob said, “you will get in there and at least clean off the sweat you reek of. Then Rosa will change the sheets. Marty will bring up some food while you are showering, then the three of us are staging an intervention, because this isn’t like you!”
Steve opened his mouth to refute that statement, probably something about how no one called the whole time he as sulking.
Bob pulled out a stack of messages. “I have thirteen messages, and that’s only because the answering machine is full.”
Steve looked behind him and sure enough the machine was blinking complete with a full tape.
“Oh.”
He meekly went and did as he was told. He was only going to do a perfunctory wipe down because they were waiting for him, but once he got under the water it felt so good that he began to thoroughly scrub himself down. Normally going without a shower for a couple of days really didn’t do much, but because he had barely moved to pee, he was covered in thin layer of sweat.
He washed his hair and got out of the shower. He dried himself off and put on the long robe Eddie had gotten him. He opened the door and was instantly hit with enticing aroma of chicken noodle soup. He moved out of the bathroom to the main room, lured by the scent of real food.
The sofa was full of the hotel employees so he grabbed his bowl of soup and spoon and sat down on the armchair curled up as small as he could make himself.
“You frightened us, mi corazón,” Rosa huffed. “You weren’t answering your phone, you weren’t ordering food. The only way we could tell you moved at all is that occasionally the cup in the bathroom would be wet or you would be on the other side of the bed.”
Bob nodded. “We were told to look after you, money was no object. That’s what we were told, but you turned out to be kind and generous and frankly better than ninety percent of the patrons here. You treat us like we’re human, so it became our pleasure to serve you. So when you weren’t opening your door to anyone or answering your calls, we knew something was wrong.”
“Sorry,” Steve muttered into his bowl. “I just got so tired of everyone trying to find out who is bankrolling my life style and telling me to get a job that I just didn’t want to deal with it anymore.”
“It’s none of their business,” Rosa huffed. “They’re just jealous that they don’t have this life. I know your papa wants to hurt and all this for you protection, but it seems to me your friends just see the money you...” she snapped her fingers. “What’s the word?”
“I’d use ‘splash around’,” Steve said with a shrug.
“Ehhh,” she knew it wasn’t the word she was looking for but it would have to do. “They see the good. Not the bad. They see new car, but they weren’t there to see you give up your old car. They see the fancy hobbies, but they don’t see your big room and no one to fill it with.”
“She’s right,” Marty said. “I don’t think even the girl that comes with your gifts from Eddie Munson quite understands the crippling loneliness and isolation you have to be feeling right now.”
Steve sniffled into his soup. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know how to impress upon them how dangerous this all is for me. Like the only ones that remotely understand are the Hendersons and that’s because my dad showed up on their doorstep. But even then I don’t think Dustin quite grasps the enormity of it all, but then he’s thirteen so...”
“The only reason your father hasn’t penetrated hotel security,” Bob said with a grimace, “is that the owner, Dr. Sam Owens hates business men like your father. Otherwise, his hold over this town would have extended to here, no doubt about that.”
“So this is what’s going to happen,” Marty said, “if you need to sneak out and just go for a drive to get out of your head, call Bob and he’ll arrange it. If you need someone to talk to ring up Rose or myself. We’re here for you. We understand that Mr. Munson is out of the country right now and it makes it harder, but we’ve got you, okay?”
Steve nodded and said weakly, “Okay!”
~
Part 15 Part 16 Part 17
Tag List: CLOSED
1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss @blondie1006
2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system
3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog
4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji
5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman
7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth
8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt
9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec
10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @sadisticaltarts
92 notes · View notes
tofupixel · 5 months ago
Note
Thank you for getting me to finally try pixel art! I‘ve always wanted to get into pixel art but I never knew what to start with and always ended up procrastinating. Your blog and the post you made on learning pixel art were what finally pushed me to give it a go. It was really helpful and I managed this little animation in Libresprite.
Tumblr media
I definitely want to improve and your art is like the ultimate goal lol. Do you have any tips or instructions for how to get better or on what to focus on in the future? I‘d appreciate any kind of criticism/input you are willing to give! How do you manage to make such gigantic and beautiful landscapes?
thank you!! and i'm so happy you decided to give it a real go, you're doing great already!! the rendering on the body and the pink shading is really nice.
i can help a little with animation stuff but i'm not an expert, ill write something out about backgrounds at the end
i hope you don't mind but i edited the sprite a little, just to illustrate some stuff
🤺Animation stuff
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i added an extra frame near the top of the arc so it slows down. this is called ease or slow in/out and usually happens at the beginning and end of movements. u can do even more slow but this is just a quick version
i also removed the middle frame (where the tail is straight down) to make the swing appear a bit more powerful. this could be the principle of timing in the same video. you can exaggerate smears if you do this, its up to you!! lately i tend to exaggerate stuff a lot, things arent super noticable in motion
i also got a good bit of advice from nickwoz that helped me, basically when you begin to animate, it really puts the rest of the sprite being still into focus. try to think of how you could animate other parts of the body, even subtly. and sometimes if individual pixels stay still they can catch the eye in an unintended way as well, just keep it in mind!!
if you want to learn animation more, you could take a look at duelyst sprites, they have incredible idle and ability animations, i study them a lot
Tumblr media
heres one i downloaded a long time ago. i recommend just downloading stuff you like and looking at it!! i have a huge collection of pixel inspo. slowing animations down can really help you understand whats going on. its just a bunch of simple elements put together that makes it look so good.
IF U WANT MORE RESOURCES/ARTISTS I REOCMMEND TO GO AND STUDY LMK!!! IM LIKE A WIKIPEDIA, I AM A BIG FAN of pixel art and love to share
🌿 OK lets talk about landscape stuff
it looks like you have art experience already, but im gonna talk as if youre a complete noob cos it might help some other people who read this!! ur doing great 👍
❓ how to learn: study (and practise a lot)
what i mean by study: draw it, copy it, try to understand it. you can try to change characteristics about it. changing the angle or lighting can help u understand how something works in 3 dimensions.
sometimes it takes time, dont worry, you will figure out your own style through doing studies, its all a process
❓ how to draw landscape details?
study pixel artists and how they do it recommendations: fool, slym, jubilee, deceiver
also please look at real world references!! you got to build that visual library
❓ how to learn composition?
study traditional artists or animation. i did a ton of studies of ghibli backgrounds which i think helped my growth a lot recommendations: arcane, studio ghibli, traditional painters
im gonna break down a piece as well and maybe that will help. this is one from 2022 but its still one of my most popular and its pretty simple too!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
if we remove all the fancy stuff what we have is actually really simple. just a few large, overlapping shapes that all point towards our focal point. it's the brightest area with the most contrast and many edges point into it.
go to pinterest or google and just search "pretty landscape" or "mountains" or something and you can see what i'm doing is nothing special or unique!! break it down into bigger shapes to begin with, its just different areas of material mostly.
Tumblr media
and heres how you can make any landscape from any colours. purple sky or mountain? orange grass? ok !! it all works, it doesnt matter. i just blend the colours.
when parts of the landscape are in the distance they become closer to the sky colour as there is more "sky" in between you and it. its called atmospheric perspective. so if the sky was red, the clouds would fade towards red.
OKKK i dont know what else to say so i hope that helps!! honestly 90% of what i do is intuitive and hard for me to really explain, so you dont have to know The Rules, you just kind of pick up stuff as you go.
GL and thanks so much for showing me your art!! please keep going!! 💕💕💕💕
181 notes · View notes
poetryvampire · 23 days ago
Text
Nsfw Alphabet for Gil Galad ✨
Tumblr media Tumblr media
💛 Gil Galad x gn Reader 💛
The brainrot has gotten to me so bad and I need more high king content like yesterday. Pls enjoy!
A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
There's going to be so much cuddling and you're not going to be able to escape, those strong arms are around you and you're locked in. The high king may be satisfied sexual for now but he still craves the feel of your body and intimacy of having you close to him.
B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)
Though sometimes he's still a bit self conscious of his broad chest and shoulders (he'll never have that classic slender elf look) he loves seeing how much you adore his build, its been a big confidence boost.
As for you, it's a hard choice but probably your lips he's def got a low key oral fixation you didn't hear it from me. He's mesmerized by them always. Watching them curl into a smile, feeling them on his skin. Kiss him all over and he's yours forever.
C - Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)
The breeding kink this elf has? Insatiable. Regardless of your situation Gil Galad's chomping at the bit to pin you down and fill you as much as he can. Careful though, if you tease him or really lean into it bag for it you're in for a very long, very overstimulated night. The sight of his thick seed running down your thighs is enough to get him hard and ready to pump you full again.
D - Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)
Would never under any circumstance admit it but if you're going to be separated for a while he will make a point of taking some of your clothes and under things. The comfort of your sent has helped him through a lot of stressful lonely nights.
E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Fairly experienced. Despite giving off the appearance of a prim and proper king he's pretty open to casual sex and experimentation on the rare occasions he can find the time. That being said he loves learning about his lovers and figuring out how best to give them what they need.
Gil Galad usually falls into the role of a soft dom. That's definitely his favourite. But he's open to anything especially with a trusted partner.
F - Favorite Position (This goes without saying)
Mating press Honestly he just adores looking at you, so any one where he has a good view. Like a variant on missionary like anvil or butterfly. Also once you've been together for awhile and Gil Galad becomes fully comfortable with you taking charge he loves when you ride him. Will beg and whine and cry for it if you work him up enough.
G - Goofy (Are they serious or humorous in the moment?)
He's pretty serious for the most part during the act as he wants to make sure you know exactly how much you mean to him. He saves all his witty remarks for the lead up or during aftercare. Gil Galad can never get enough of your smile and will sass and tease you to no end when the time is right.
H - Hair (How well-groomed are they?)
Listen. I feel like I see a lot of people lean into the hairless high elf thing and that's just not my jive. Let me have this
By elf standards Gil Galad would be considered very hairy. He's very well groomed but doesn't bother to shave it. He has a good amount of chest hair but a thick, dark happy trail and bush.
I - Intimacy (Romantic aspect)
Once the High King gives himself the time for a partner he needs it to stay sane. He had a habit of using work as a distraction for the lack of intimacy in his life but now that he has you he craves it very often. Physical and emotional closeness means the world to him, they're one of the simple joys of nature that make life worth living.
J - Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)
Tries his best not to when his kingly pride gets the best of him but of course this only leads to him being more pent up than ever. He'll often do it in bed without evening meaning to. Either unable to sleep or dreaming of you and his body will just take over. He'll be painfully hard and start rutting desperately into the mattress or a pillow. He won't be able to stop until he's cum all over himself, one hand over his mouth trying to stifle his groans.
K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Gil Galad is and absolute king of soft doms. Good lord nothing makes him feel as good as pleasuring you, especially when its before he's found any satisfaction. He really wants to work for his release. Adores lavishing you slowly and sweetly until you're and overstimulated mess.
L - Location (Favorite places to have sex)
When his plans for the night are long- which they often are- he prefers his chambers. However, his majesty has a bit of an exhibition kink he likes to explore now and then. There's something about seeing you naked in nature that really takes his breath away. He loves how your skin looks in the sunlight. So he's been known to get frisky while out on a walk or picnic in the woods.
M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Gil Galad may come off as a bit cold or temperamental at times but at heart he's an old school romantic so a lot of it can be little acts of kindness and devotion. Witnessing them make him mushy and emotionall at times, overwhelmed buy how lucky he is to have you. And suddenly he'd be filled with passion and desperate to kiss you everywhere at once.
N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
He's not doing anything that could actually hurt you, so he's really not here for hard domming. Remember he's not just a king but a very seasoned and capable warrior. He's much more strong than you and keeps it in mind during sex just in case. He's very ok with pinning you down, light bruising, even spankings but anything that could draw blood is out of the question.
O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He's completely mad for the taste and sent of you so he defiantly prefers giving. The feeling of you pulsing and dripping against his tongue gets him hard like nothing else.
P - Pace (Fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)
More often than not it's slow and sensual. He really wants to luxuriate in your bodies and pleasure, really make sure that his desires are not only for your body but also from a place of love.
Q - Quickie (Opinions on quickies)
Ok I know what I just said, but as high king he's also busy as hell and sometimes just needs to grab you and lose himself in you as soon as possible. On more than one occasion he has taken you on his desk in-between meetings.
R - Risk (Do they experiment or take risks?)
Gil Galad is willing to take risks but depending on what kind it may take a bit for him to get comfort. One of the biggest ones for him was letting you dom him. He's an elf that likes control and so used to controlling himself and others and letting goes of that wasn't easy at first. Learning to let go under your guidance was not only extremely pleasurable but did a lot to ease his anxiety. You make him feel safe and that means everything to him.
S - Stamina (Rounds, how long they last)
High. Very high, too high at times. Especially if you've been parted for a while or if you really work him up over breeding you. We're talking all night long best of luck walking tomorrow kind of stamina. Sometimes he wont even need to fully pull out between rounds. You'll be coming down from the high, still wrapped around each other, feeling his soft cock inside you when suddenly its growing and he's slowing bucking into you again.
T - Toy (Do they own/use toys?)
Not so much toys but Gil Galad loves adding in adornments like silk ropes, blindfolds, lingerie and massage oils. Again he likes to take his time and go all out.
U - Unfair (How much do they like to tease)
LOVES to tease and is so so smug about it. Lives to work you up and leave you hanging, seeing you writhe and beg for him over and over. However he will also be a whiny overdramatic nightmare if you do the same to him.
V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Lots of noises but it's usually pretty low until the end. Even simple affections like kisses can draw soft sighs and hums from him. He's very vocal once into it, lots of deep throaty groans, tends to ramble out either sweet earnest words of love or the filthiest descriptions of what he wants to do to you youve ever hear.
W - Wild Card (Random headcanon)
Thinks bathing together is the most romantic thing in the world. If you come to him after a battle and help him out of his armor and into a hot bath he'll get very emotional. Wash his hair? Hold him and help wash away his heavy thoughts? Will actually cry.
X - X-Ray (What’s under the pants)
Just like the rest of him he's quite large, both in length and girth so he's also very careful to give you lots of prep before you take him. Also veiny as hell. No matter how long you've been together nothing gives him as much of a high as watching him stretch you open to accommodate him.
Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Good at keeping it under control until he's in a relationship then it goes sky high. Constantly yearning to touch you, doesn't even need to be sexual. He's aching to feel you at his side or your hand in his. Your presence is such a comfort to him. And of course he is just a man elf and will often find his mind drifting to the curve of your lips or the breathless moans he could be pulling from you during a dull meeting.
ZZZ - Sleep (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Somewhat quickly- especially after a few rounds- but only if you're pressed against him. Gil Galad Loves feeling and holding you after sex. He'll keep you close while alternating between soft kisses, caresses and murmuring words of love until you're both passed out. Gets the best sleep of his life like this.
101 notes · View notes
goodgirlofglory · 1 year ago
Text
A successful trial run/ One-shot
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Word count: 9,2k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, explicit language, smut, making out, nipple-play, dry-humping, coming in pants hehe, me making up a lot of unconvincing sciency talk about tech and engineering and whatnot.
Summary: As a newly recruited scientist in the royal technical institute of Wakanda, your first task involves a certain Winter Soldier fresh out of cryostasis and in need of a new arm. Intrigued by his mysterious figure since forever, you’re brimming with fascination over the subject. Little did you anticipate capturing his eye in return. 
Note: This takes place somewhere between Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Avengers Infinity War. Kinda wanted to write something from the time Bucky spent in Wakanda. I enjoyed writing this one, hope you enjoy reading it😘 Likes, replies and reblogs are amazing. Luv you guys, you are the best, i am always so grateful and excited to receive all your feedback💕💕🦋
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The first time the Winter Soldier entered the lab, he was flanked by the entire Dora Milaje and led by the king himself. Apart from the usual ceremony of greeting the king and his guest of honor, no one seemed jittered nor particularly preoccupied with the new project - or its primary subject. The engineers, scientists and technicians of the royal technical institute and Wakandan Design group were used to making much more extravagant and complicated designs than a prosthetic arm. 
It was a regular Tuesday for everyone - except you, that was. Extraordinarily gifted from a young age, you had quickly advanced and surpassed your peers and even superiors in your studies at the university of the capitol. Subsequently, you were the youngest person in the lab - apart from princess Shuri herself. 
And you were almost jumping out of your skin with excitement at having the Winter Soldier as your very first test subject. Or rather, you were on the team that was to build his next vibranium arm. You’d read all about him and watched all the news over the years, but you had started working in the lab after he’d been brought to Wakanda and put in cryostasis, so you’d never actually seen him in the flesh. Now he was out of cryo for rehabilitation and with that came the need for a new arm. Shuri had picked the team herself, and to your utter surprise, chosen you as a part of it. 
Your task was fairly simple: organize and execute the fitting of the prosthetic prototypes with the subject himself, take notes and report to the team whatever adjustments the soldier would prefer. The others would do most of the engineering, creative modeling and building - the more prestigious work. You didn’t really care that your tasks were relatively simple and low level though - it was an amazing learning experience for a newbie like you. Plus, it meant you were the primary contact person for the soldier himself, which had you flushing hot for both professional and decidedly less professional reasons. 
The soldier was an enigma; lethal chaos and extreme discipline spliced inside the body of what was once a regular American. His mythos was both intriguingly detailed and all at once a mystery - a sort of dangerous puzzle you couldn’t help but be drawn to like a moth to a flame. Everything he had lived and experienced and represented was so very very far from your own safe and mundane world. It wasn’t that growing up in Wakanda had been boring per se, but everything was just so… perfect, and despite yourself, you were drawn to the Winter Soldier and the extraordinary case of his unusual life. And from the moment you’d laid eyes on him, you knew you were out of your depth. 
He was beautiful - in a rugged, unpolished sort of way; raw and hauntingly real, he only seemed to move when it served the explicit purpose of his visit. Otherwise, he stood still as a statue. He had an air of mystery to him, but despite his huge, menacing and burly form, he wasn’t scary. His eyes were soft, the babiest of blue, his stubble revealed tiny streaks of silver, and his hair, though washed and groomed, had a consistently shaggy look to it that made him seem…human. Just another regular white guy to everyone else in the lab - the most intriguing person in Wakanda to you. 
Along with the king, the soldier had silently shaken the hand of everyone on the team, looking them in the eyes with a polite, though quite stoic expression that betrayed nothing of what was happening on the inside. You’d stared at him as he'd made his way down the line, scrutinized every inch of his face, trying to gauge the tiniest twitch of muscle, any indication or hint of emotion - to your utter astonishment, you could see nothing. Then he'd reached where you stood at the end of the line of team members, and your heart'd kicked into a sprint at the way he suddenly loomed before you in all his muscled, mystical and deadly glory. Holy shit, he was huge, surely a foot taller than you, with the most obscenely broad shoulders and thighs that bulged in a way that had your mouth going dry.
Get yourself together! Stop ogling the subject!, you had admonished yourself harshly.
By the time you got back in contact with your body and reached a hand out to him, your palms were sweaty and your face hot. And then, as he engulfed your hand in his pale, calloused one, hot like a multilayered sonic solar panel during july, you thought you saw a muscle near his eye twitch, catching your gaze the same way his eyes did a moment later when they glinted with something suspiciously alike curiosity, a flashing moment of undivided interest that had you flushing even hotter. 
Oh yeah, you were in big, big trouble. 
§
Three months later you no longer broke out in panicked sweating whenever Barnes came in for a fitting (most of the time). You’d had a total of four meetings so far, all of which had been professional, short and silent. Barnes hadn’t spoken more than a few words to you in all your time together in the lab, and none of them of much importance.
("Here?" he'd asked that first fitting when you’d asked him to take a seat on the surgical bench. 
"No" he'd said when you asked if the new fastenings at his shoulder were uncomfortable.
"Yes", he'd said when you’d asked if the first prototype arm was lighter than what he was used to.
Other than that, the winter soldier mostly communicated in grunts, nods and shakes of his head.)
The hiss of the sliding door alerted you to his arrival as you were readying the newest prototype for the fitting, and just like always, the door was the only sound even hinting at his presence. He was impossibly silent for a guy his size. 
“Sit down, please, I’ll be ready in a moment,” you threw over your shoulder, keeping your eyes on the clasps you would try on the shoulder today. 
When he didn’t answer and you could hear no sound of the shifting padding on the surgical bench, you threw a look over your shoulder and froze. 
Barnes stood by the bench, his one flesh arm raised high, fingers adjusting something on the…bun on the back of his head. His…bun of…gorgeous, thick locks of shaggy brown hair. You gulped, a tingling sensation of adrenaline starting to well up in your chest. He hadn’t worn his hair like that before, at least not around you, and man were you a sucker for a nice hair do on a man. Combined with this man it seemed to be suddenly and quite effectively lethal. His locks were collected and pulled away from his face, revealing high, chiseled cheekbones and a jawline that could cut diamonds and -
A screw fell out of your hand as your mind worked overtime to process the image before you, and then, so quickly you didn’t even see him move, the soldier was there, crouching at your feet, catching the screw before it could clink onto the floor. 
It felt like an eternity went by as you stared at his bent form slowly straighten up up up to his full height, the screw looking more like a grain of sand in his big, calloused and rough hand, his body so close you swore you could feel the warmth radiating off him. The lulling scent of fresh earth and spices filled your nose, taking you to luscious lands far away. 
You heard the hitch in your tiny, involuntary intake of air like a siren in a dead silent night, and your face blazed to a million fucking degrees, your heart galloping in your chest. Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his pale eyes - eyes that betrayed nothing in an equally neutral face. 
Fuckfuckfuck, he’s so close. Fuck, his eyes are so blue, shit, he smells good, is that freckles on his cheek bones - 
He held the screw out expectantly, and you mentally shook yourself for being so fucking slow. Stop ogling him! Take the screw! With fingers you were relieved to see didn’t tremble, you reached out and plucked it from his light grasp, furiously not hyperfocusing on where your skin grazed his. 
“Um,” you started, and painfully cleared your throat before trying again, cheeks burning, “t-thanks. Please, sit.”
He stayed unmoving for half a second longer than was strictly necessary, and then he turned and moved to sit on the surgical bench. 
Turning back to your table of tools, you took a few calming breaths, breathing as softly as you could in case the soldier could hear you (which he probably could quite well considering what you’d read about his enhanced body and senses.)
You turned back to find him watching you from a seated position on the bench, eyes following your movement as you walked up towards him, pulling your table behind you. You plastered on your best carefree smile and picked up the prototype vibranium arm, sleek black with silver accents, and like you always did, held it up so he could inspect it if he chose to. Like always, he didn’t seem remotely interested in the design. Only, he didn’t stare ahead out into the room like he usually did during these parts of the fittings. Instead his eyes remained on you, his form so fucking unmoving he could be a statue. You swallowed thickly, absurdly nervous. His scent still lingered in your mind. 
He’d removed his shirt, revealing the new shoulder prosthesis in the same black as the arm, fitted to mold over his scarred tissue and make a clean transition from steel to skin. Your eyes caught on the tiny sliver of golden, muscled skin peeking out from where his white t-shirt had been cut above the shoulder, and you quickly averted your gaze even as your mind started conjuring images of wide expanses of soft, golden skin under the tips of your fingers as you explored under rays of soft, morning sunlight. 
Why did he have to look so god damned good, with his stupid hair up in a stupid bun and stupid t-shirt that dared show even a square centimeter of his stupid skin, you thought perturbed as you started fitting the arm to the shoulder, hands working on autopilot while your mind frayed at the edges. 
All through the fitting, you felt his eyes linger on you, not staring per se, just…observing. Three times you peeked up from your work to catch his eyes on yours, and three times you hastily averted your gaze back, your cheeks heating anew, your heart picking up speed. He’d never done that before. He’d always just stared at the floor or the wall during his fittings, eyes vacant, seemingly far far away. He’d never been fully present, never watched you, very rarely met your eyes. It was what had kept your own visceral reactions to such a minimum you could easily manage them. But now, under his weighty gaze, your body started tingling all over, sweat gathering on your brow, your breathing going just slightly too fast. You didn’t know if it was excitement or some instinctive fight or flight-reflex kicking into gear. Why was he looking at you like that?
“There,” you said just a little too hastily when at last the final screw was in place. You retreated to the other side of the room under the guise of organizing your tools back into their rightful place on the wall. “Please test it out, feel how it fits, tell me how it feels,” you said with your back to him, reciting the instructions you always gave him during this part of the fitting. Usually, you observed him closely as he walked around the room, lifting the arm, flexing the fingers and grabbing at random objects to test grip and reactivity. Now it was all you could do to not flee the room all together due to how embarrassingly flustered you were. The fittings in themselves weren’t really necessary from an engineering perspective - the royal technical institute all but guaranteed the highest mark of quality and a near zero percent chance of faults. The fittings were more beneficial from a psychological point of view - to give the subject a smooth transitional introduction to their new limb. 
You heard him shuffling about for some time while you randomly moved tools and screws around your table while trying to collect and promptly ban all the inappropriate thoughts running wild in your head. It was so unprofessional to be affected like this! Sure, he was handsome (wildly so) but you couldn’t call yourself a proper scientist if you acted like this! It was disgraceful! Even as you scolded yourself for being this way around the poor, innocent hunk - SUBJECT - your mind flooded with the thoughts you tried so hard to keep at bay. What did his hair feel like sliding through your fingers? Did he always gaze so intently? What would those eyes look like in dark rooms surrounded by soft sheets? What would that new metal hand look like wrapped around your - 
The sound of a throat clearing had you yelping - for fuck’s sake, girl - and whipping around to find him right behind you, looking down at you with that expression that betrayed nothing. 
You stared up at him for a moment, heart thumping in your chest, stunned to silence by his clear initiation of contact, and then abruptly found your sense. 
“Does it feel right? Is anything uncomfortable or -”
Your words died out as he extended the vibranium hand between you. He let it hover there, hand straight, expectant. You stared for a moment, and then praised yourself for daring to reach your own hand out to clasp his, a bit unused to the flip to using your left hand to shake his, hoping to God this was what he was getting at and that you didn’t just make a fool of yourself. 
Your interpretation was correct, and the smooth, slightly cold metal closed around you, dwarfing your hand. The soldier squeezed your fingers and then shook your hand a bit stiffly a couple of times before stilling. You gulped, acutely aware of your heartbeat running a gallop in your chest, the silence around you so severe you could hear your own breathing like a wind tunnel. The feel of the vibranium, so alive in this form and shape, squeezing your fingers in a firm, unyielding grip had new, strange sensations slowly trickling south, and you fought the instinct to clench your thighs as unwelcome heat pooled in your lower stomach. Mortified by your own, inappropriate and decidedly unprofessional reaction, you hoped to all the dead kings and Bast herself that the soldier didn’t notice. Disturbingly, there came no sound from the soldier, not even from his breathing. 
After a moment of nothing happening, the both of you just standing there, clasping hands, you dared a peek up at his face. He was watching you again, but instead of pale, dead eyes, the blue of his irises simmered with something…something hot and wicked and - 
You abruptly pulled your hand out of his grasp, and gave him a far too fake gleeful smile. “Good grip,” you jipped, voice coming out far too strained and shrill to be casual. Barnes looked at you with those captivating eyes for a moment longer before looking down at his vibranium hand, flexing the fingers a little. 
“It’s perfect,” he said. 
It took you a moment to register the words, and then elation swept through you. You smiled and clapped your hands together and spun to go note his comment down.  “How wonderful, I’m so glad,” you said, not able to keep the excitement out of your voice.  A happy subject meant you’d fulfilled your task! The project could move onto its final stages of rendering and documentation. Happy progress!  You scribbled down some fast notes on the screws and fastenings, how he’d tested grip by shaking your hands and his own feedback, putting his exact words down as a quote. 
“The team will be so happy to learn you’re satisfied, they talked so much about the latest updates on the interface between sensory input and mechanical automobility - they wouldn’t shut up about it for days, I swear to Bast,” you said, the words falling out of your mouth in your excitement, and then you turned back towards him and again fell silent. 
He was staring at you, and for the first time, you could actually detect emotions on his face. He looked…dumbfounded, or something akin to that, watching you with avid eyes, mouth slightly open and brows for once out of their trademark downturned frown. You were stunned yourself for a moment seeing him so out of character, and then you promptly lowered your gaze. 
Oh great, first you’re fumbling and awkward and then you start rambling like a lunatic. What is wrong with you?, you asked yourself silently.  You cleared your throat and motioned for him to sit back on the bench. He obliged, and you found yourself slightly disappointed to see him schooling away his emotion behind the stoic mask. 
“So, I’ll have to take the arm off so it can be finalized, and then you’ll just have to have it fastened a final time, and then you’ll have your arm, Mr. Barnes,” you said as you got to work unscrewing and removing the prosthetic limb. He nodded, eyes glued to you like before. He didn’t seem happy, or if he was, he didn’t show it. You hoped he’d feel elated like you did, but considered how the whole metal arm thing might still be a little complicated for him. You wondered if he was going to a therapist, or a support group or anything. You didn’t dare ask, though. “I imagine the finalizing process won’t take much more than two weeks. I’ll send you a suggestion for the next appointment once it’s clear, and you can confirm using your compad like before. Sound good?” you asked, thankful you could keep a clear head through this part at least. 
“Yes,” he said, still watching your eyes as you removed the arm and returned it to the table. You nodded to him, and managed to stay upright until the door hissed shut behind him as he left. Then you curled into a mortified little ball and hid your flaming face in your hands. 
§
Fucking. Great. 
Your heart had been hammering harder for every mile that passed as your cruiser made its way into the heart of the Wakandan landscape. The prosthetic arm had been finalized within a couple of days and your superiors thought the best course of action was sending you out to fasten it instead of demanding Barnes make his way into the capitol on such short notice. Which meant you were on your way to his home, to be completely alone with him…in his home.   
Part of you was insatiably curious to see how he lived, to peer into such a private, revealing place. Everyone knew seeing how a person lived was like seeing a reflection of their soul. Your apartment for instance, was a hot fucking mess, but one you could navigate perfectly. You hadn’t allowed yourself to picture Barnes’s home, though, or make any assumptions. How he lived was of no scientific interest, and therefore no interest to you! Or so you told yourself, at least…
It’s fine. Everything is fine, you chanted in your head as the cruiser arrived at its destination, the small hut Barnes had been gifted as his indefinite residence. It was a beautiful place to keep a residence, right by the river, the surrounding trees providing plenty of shade from the hot sun and a gorgeous view over the plains. It only made you more curious about Barnes, and subsequently, more furious with yourself. 
Everything is fine. 
As you shut the motor down and climbed out of the vehicle, his large, burly figure emerged from the hut, and a spike of energy went off inside you as you locked eyes with Barnes. He was as stoic as ever, but he walked up to meet you right away and surprised you when he reached to grab the case with the arm in it to carry it for you. 
“Hi,” you said, and quickly added, “um, thanks for being available at such a short notice.” 
You’d felt kinda foolish for giving such a roomy deadline prognosis at his last fitting only for it to take a few days, and were sweating with the hope it hadn’t inconvenienced him in any way. There was a whole delicate, psychological process involved in getting a new limb - a process one shouldn’t meddle too much in - especially when there was significant trauma involved in losing the original limb. Fuck, you were so nervous.
He looked a bit puzzled for a moment, brows drawn down in consideration. 
“No. Thank you for coming all this way,” he said a bit haltingly, and to your astonishment, he sounded almost as unsure of himself as you felt. Uncomfortable warmth spread in your chest. That must have been the longest sentence he’d ever spoken to you. His voice was low and gruff, a smooth rumble that seemed to vibrate through the ground, across to you and straight into your chest. Fuuck, how were you supposed to survive that voice, and with him being uncharacteristically timid and polite?
Suddenly you felt like laughing. Here you were, both of you so awkward and unsure, and what for? This was a joyous occasion, for Bast's sake, and you were being silly! Forcing your nerves down, you leveled him with a smile. 
“Not at all. Let’s get that arm on, shall we?” you said, letting your actual excitement for the happening fill you instead. You were after all, genuinely excited to finally give Barnes his new prosthetic limb, and see him back to full mobility. 
He stared at you for a moment, his eyes fluttering around your face, and then abruptly stepped aside and gestured for you to proceed him into the hut. You obliged, holding your spirits high as you dared venture past the curtain and inside the hut. 
Barnes’s home was sparsely furnished but…surprisingly cozy. Brightly coloured pillows, blankets and tapestries lay everywhere, a window to the right letting in the bright, midday sun, casting a glowing light on everything. You recognised the patterns and color scheme from your own parents and grandparents houses, it was a traditional home in all senses of the words. You’d think Barnes would stick out like a sore thumb here, but really, he seemed to fit in well. There was a low table to the left with stacks of books and a mug on it, surrounded by more pillows and blankets. Your eyes caught on and swiftly ignored the cot at the back of the hut, made perfectly with a mountain of pillows. 
That’s where he sleeps. That’s where he rests. That’s where he’s most vulnerable. That’s where you would lay if he - NO!
Barnes squeezed around you where you stood just inside the entrance studying the space, and you quite viscerally realized how small the hut was for the two of you, how small it was for him alone really. This was gonna be way more tight and intimate than the lab, you thought with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
Barnes put the case down by the low table and proceeded to start clearing the table of books and pens and the mug. He looked down into the mug and then over at you. 
“Coffee?” he asked, and taken aback by the unexpected question, you shook your head quickly before immediately regretting it. It would’ve been more polite to accept, and you did feel a bit strung out by your morning so far. 
Barnes nodded in response, and then seemed at a loss, turning the mug in his hand. Was he…fidgeting? 
“Where do you -?” he started, and you cut him off. 
“Right there is fine. We can sit on the floor, no problem,” you said reassuringly, giving him another smile, suddenly filled with sweetness for this big hulk of a man and his nervous fidgeting. He nodded and proceeded to plump down where you assumed he normally sat. You quelled a smile at how normalcy seemed to bleed through even this exceedingly awkward situation, and was kind of enamored by the way Barnes seemed to relax once he was seated in his usual spot. It gave you the impression that this space was a comfort to him, which you were glad to see. 
You neared and sat down on your knees at his side, opening the case and swiftly taking out everything you needed as he took off his shirt to reveal the same t-shirt he used to wear underneath, sleeveless on the left side. Without further ado, you started the process of permanently fastening the arm. You slipped into a calm concentration as you worked, the familiarity and comfort of your skills calming you, a comfortable silence descending upon you both, only interrupted by the sounds of your electric screwdriver. The whole thing took no longer than ten minutes, and then you sat back and looked upon Barnes in silence as he took in his new arm, knowing it was finally, and wholly, his. 
He stared down at it for a long while, and then the hut was filled with sounds of gentle, almost silent whirring as he started flexing mechanical muscles, then fingers, then the whole arm, lifting it to examine and compare to his other arm, running them both through his loose hair and picking up different items on his table and tossing them lightly from hand to hand. He seemed completely engrossed, and for long minutes it seemed almost like he’d forgotten you were even there as he explored his new arm. 
It was awe-inspiring to see, to be allowed to observe such a vulnerable moment, to witness him seemingly letting himself really connect to this new possibility of having two arms and two hands again, in a way he hadn’t even seemed to entertain while in the fittings. It touched something deep inside you, witnessing with honor what you hoped might be a moment of healing, and tears pricked the back of your eyes. It felt so incredibly moving to be part of a team that could give something like this to a person who’d been through so much hardship, and the feeling filled you, making you feel all warm. This was why you’d gotten into this field, this was why you wanted to be a scientist. To be able to help people recover precious things lost. 
Your heart swelled with emotion, and then Barnes looked at you, his own astonished joy blasted clear across his face, completely unencumbered, letting you see it without any pretense or facades. Your breath caught in your throat at the sheer volume of his joy, and how intimate him sharing it so openly with you was. You were stunned. 
And then you kissed him. 
One moment you were looking at his broad smile full of slightly crooked, white teeth, and then you’d leaned across your own knees and half across his and unceremoniously pressed your lips to his. It was closed-mouthed and a bit off-center, your bottom lip caught awkwardly on his top one. But sparks crackled through your body all the same as you felt how soft his lips were, how warm his skin was, the slightly surprised gust of warm, gentle air from his nostrils. 
And then your senses kicked in, mortification hot on their heels, and you broke the kiss abruptly, all but ready to flee the hut. You didn’t get the chance to move away though, before cool metal fingers slid up the sensitive skin of your throat and back to cup your neck, gently, but firmly pulling you right back into the kiss.
A fire caught in your loins, sizzling hot sparks shooting up your body and you drew in a shaky breath through your nose only for the air to be caught in your throat, making a small, needy, desperately embarrassing sound. The metal fingers on your neck tightened at the sound. 
You felt completely blown off your center. Nothing had felt this good before, nothing in your whole, perfect life full of joys and pleasures and fulfillment had felt so sensationally good as James Buchanan Barnes's lips on yours while his brand new prosthetic hand cradled your neck.
The surge of desire that welled from that feeling propelled you to buck forward and crawl into his laps, straddling him with even more clumsy frenzy as you kissed him again. He answered in kind, his flesh hand landing tentatively on your hip before moving up your back to pull you tighter against him once he seemingly caught on to the fact that you were there in his lap of your own fruition. 
You kissed again and again, hungry, exploring, closed-mouthed but growing more desperate, more daring. You opened your mouth to catch your breath and was met by the shy swipe of his tongue just inside your mouth, and your whole body shuddered at the sensation before you wrapped your arms around his neck and swiped your own tongue to meet his. 
A growl came out of nowhere and exploded in Barnes’s chest as you tongue-kissed him with everything you had, and then the world was spinning, and your back hit the brightly earth-coloured rug. Barnes followed you closely, and laid down on top of you, pinning you down with his huge, burly body, claiming your mouth in an honest-to-Bast breath-taking kiss. 
It was explosively good, this gorgeous, muscled beast of a man pinning you to the ground, broad shoulders shielding you from everything above, leaning on his elbows while his hands cradled your face, holding you perfectly still as his mouth descended upon yours again and again, growing hungrier with every kiss. Your mind whirled with images of his metal arm wrapping around your throat, pinning you down, tearing your clothes to shreds and holding you put exactly where he wanted while the soldier ravished you, and it became even harder to pull air into your flaming lungs. You heard yourself whimpering into the kisses, your own desperation growing like a galloping crescendo inside you. You were suddenly, unexpectedly, and totally irrationally ready for him to tear your clothes off and take you right there on the floor of his hut, heat flaming in your lower stomach, a molten ache starting to let itself be known between your legs, everything else in the world be damned and forgotten if you could just feel him ins - 
A small beeping sound cut through the fog of desire overtaking you, and it took you a moment for your melting brain to recognise it as your pager. You wrenched out of the kiss and put your hands on Barnes’s broad, warm chest, feeling his strong heartbeat jackhammer beneath the layers of clothes and flesh. His lips followed you for a split second, his eyes opening to slits in order to find you again. Then, as he realized you’d intentionally ended the kiss, he immediately let you push him half-way off you to fish the pager out of your pocket. It was your boss, they needed you back by lunch. 
Fuck
Fuck, what the fuck were you doing? It dawned on you the incredibly inappropriate situation you were in, had put yourself and Barnes in. This was reckless and rash and completely not who you were or had ever been. With anyone! No, no, no, this was bad, you were so fucking stupid. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes as you pushed him gently all the way off you to sit back on his haunches and swiftly extracted yourself from under him and got to your feet. 
You were mortified, absolutely mortified, shame and embarrassment and guilt washing over you in tidal waves, slamming into your chest. 
“I’m so sorry, that was so…um…I have to go, but er, enjoy your hand - ARM and hand,” you sputtered out as you began fleeing the hut all together. Then you remembered what you were supposed to say upon leaving, and turned while halfway out the door, “If you have any trouble or complications, don’t hesitate to contact the institute. On behalf of the technical institute and design group, we hope you will be pleased with the product. Um, bye!”
Barnes remained in the same seated position on the floor while you made your stumbling exit, and you missed the look of longing in his eyes as you left. 
§
A week passed while you marinated in your own embarrassment and guilt, trying and failing to get the whole incident in the hut out of your mind. Partly because it was the most unprofessional and out-of-control thing you’d ever done, and partly because you just couldn’t get the memory of Barnes’s lips out of your head. The warmth emanating from him like a furnace, the way his hands gripped you gently, but possessively, the thrill that had gone through you when he flipped you and pinned you to the floor like you were nothing more than a rag doll. Had he been as turned on as you? Had he enjoyed himself? Surely he’d enjoyed it a little bit with the way he’d reciprocated, but had he really wanted it?
You shook yourself out of your daydream for probably the dozenth time that day, not a single word written on the personal essay you were to turn in with your other documentation in a couple of days. Fuuuck, this was so bad, you had to be able to focus and put this from your mind! If you were lucky and if everything went as it should with the prosthetic, Barnes would have no reason to contact the institute and seek you out ever again, and you would never have to see him again after your blunder. 
The project would be over soon, you would move on to new ones and the one tether you had to Barnes would be severed. It was best for everyone if you just forgot the whole thing. 
Except, in your panicked flight from his home, you’d completely forgotten the case that had contained the prosthetic arm, along with some screws and your most beloved screwdriver. You hadn’t even noticed it was left behind until you were halfway back to the lab, and had been completely at a loss on what to do. You couldn’t go back after the way you’d left, but you couldn’t just leave it either. The equipment wasn’t of that much value and the lab had plenty more, so that wasn’t the greatest issue. But you loved that screwdriver, and felt it as an obligation to retrieve it. Plus, it wasn’t fair to just leave it there, in Barnes’s home, what use did he have of it? Still, you couldn’t bear the thought of going back after the way you’d left….
Your head thumped down onto the workbench at the back of your lab. You were spiraling down the rabbit hole of warring thoughts for the upteenth time that day and was about to hurl something at the wall when the clearing of a throat came out of nowhere. 
Whipping your head up, you practically leapt from your chair when you saw Barnes standing  in the middle of your lab, clad in light pants and a loose-fitting half-sleeved shirt, completely unexpected, looking exceedingly unsure of himself (...and obscenely gorgeous)
Your immediate thought went to his arm, but as far as you could see, it was still intact and working perfectly from the way he clenched and unclenched the vibranium hand at his side. Then your eyes slipped to his other hand, and saw the case he held in it. 
“I, um, hello, I thought you might like this back,” he said, looking down and holding out the hand with the case. You immediately walked up to him and took it. 
“Thank you! So much, you didn’t have to come all this way just for that,” you rushed to say, feeling sheepish and grateful at the same time. 
“Oh no, I, uh…I…I have some errands in the… uh, the city and whatnot,” he said, and you almost smiled a little at the way he suddenly fumbled for words. Was this even the same guy that had pinned you to the floor and ravished your mouth a week ago? The same guy that had walked into the lab that first day, all menacing silence and calculated movement.
“Oh, okay, well, this was really nice of you, thank you again. Um, what did you say to the guards to get in here?” you asked, suddenly remembering the levels of clearing he had to go through to get here. Did he tell the truth? Would your superiors know you forgot the case? That you’d made a fool of yourself and made the whole institute look chaotic and unprofessional?
“I told them I had some more questions about the arm, and that I wanted to speak with you since you’re so knowledgeable and good at your job,” Barnes said, waving his metal hand in the air a little as if to show you it was indeed made of vibranium. 
He’d protected you? Kept your secret? A warm sense of giddyness spread through you, and you bit your lip to keep from smiling to broadly. 
“God, you didn’t have to tell them all that,” you said, feeling warmth bloom on your cheeks from his compliments. 
“I meant it, though,” he said seriously, and then he took a step towards you, “And I wanted to, needed to apologize…for what happened at my house…last week.”
Your heart surged in your chest and you couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Apologize? What could he have to apologize for? You were the one who’d acted out of line. Did he regret what’d happened? What if you’d overstepped his boundaries and added more to his trauma?
“No, no, please, I’m the one who should apologize here. It was completely unprofessional to do that when I was working on a project with you, and so inappropriate to force myself upon you like that, all in this emotional moment and without knowing if you’d enjoy it or -”
“I enjoyed it,” he interrupted, voice clear and strong.
You looked up to find him another step closer. So big, and strong, and handsome, your insatiable desire whispered to you as he gazed down into your eyes, only inches between you. You wanted to kiss him again suddenly, your lips tingled with it. 
“You did?” you asked, only half paying attention as you lost yourself in his heavenly baby blue eyes, framed by thick lashes paled by the sun. Your eyes flicked down to his full lips, and when they went back to his eyes, they glinted with a spark of that same ferociousness that’d awakened in him on that floor in his hut. A glint that had your lower stomach going all molten. 
He nodded, breathing a little laugh that surprised you. Your heart started soaring in your chest despite your best efforts to keep from getting ahead of yourself. 
“Yeah,” he breathed, swallowing and licking his lips, “a lot. I, uh, I was really sorry to see you leave so abruptly too  - before I could speak with you,” he said. 
Arousal welled up in your body, and you felt a little dizzy all of a sudden. He’d enjoyed it…
“Me too,” you whispered, not trusting your voice not to crack. 
He took a final, tiny step closer, too close for any kind of professionalism or even decency, really, so close you could almost sense the atoms sparking to life in the tiny space between your bodies. Just like that, you were back in his hut, the moment swelling to level with the heavy, sizzling churn of when he'd flipped you to the carpet and caged you in underneath him. He had such a presence, his body thrumming with life and power and fuck, you wanted it on top of you. Again. 
“I’m relieved to hear that. And,” he said, slowly reaching his flesh hand to tentatively cup your neck, hot and possessive in one, tender gesture, his calloused thumb coming up to stroke over your jaw, the intimate touch sending fireworks through your nervous system, ”though I don’t want to disrespect your work ethic, I’d like to point out that we’re not working on the same project anymore, so if you’d like to -”
The case hit the floor with a loud bang the moment you wrapped your arms around Barnes’s neck and threw yourself into his arms, your lips meeting in a sizzling kiss. Barnes caught you around the waist and hauled you up into his arms, your feet dangling off the ground as he crushed you to his chest, returning the kiss tenfold. 
His tongue was immediately in your mouth this time, licking hot and wet and dominatingly over your own, and you whimpered at the sheer intensity, the way it blazed to a fire in your loins.
You clung to him like your life depended on it, and moaned into his mouth as you felt him turn and lower you to the bench in the lab, not letting much space get in between you before he draped himself over you and continued putting his mouth to yours. Your hands found their agency and started moving, mapping out his shoulders, feeling the muscle ripple under your fingertips as you caressed down his chest and around his sides to stroke his long, chiseled back.
His loose cotton shirt rode up as he moved to step further in between your opening legs, pressing himself closer, and your hands were unable to resist the pull as your fingers met the hot flesh of his lower back, stroking over silky smooth skin up again under his shirt. 
His whole body shuddered against you, a small gasp emanating from him as he broke the kiss, and your excitement went through the roof. You opened your eyes and stared at his expression going lax, eyes closing and mouth hanging slightly open as you continued your caress up his back. You hooked your hands over his shoulder and pulled him down to you again, nibbling on his lip before kissing his open mouth, your fingertips dancing in swirling patterns down his back. 
His body shuddered again. 
“Oh my god,” he whispered a little breathlessly against your mouth, mostly to himself it seemed, and your discovery made you almost feverish with desire. 
He was sensitive, and probably more than a little touch-starved. 
You brought your hands forward and found the top button on his shirt, staring to undo it as you breathed into each other's mouths. You’d gotten to the third one when Barnes gave a (admittedly adorable) little huff of impatience and pulled free to wrench his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted torso right out of your wettest dream. You had to take a moment just to stare at him, hard abs, flat stomach, pecs that stretched into rounded, muscled, obscenely broad shoulders. Tight, sculpted muscles that shone in the dimmed, bluish fluorescents of the ceiling lights, one muscled arm with prominent veins running down to a calloused hand, one arm reflecting the lights in shiny, sculpted, black vibranium.
His chest rose and fell with his labored breath, his abs flexing, the muscles of his torso and arms tensing and shifting as he stood before you and it was just so different from the statuesque, almost frugal way he’d moved before, when he only exerted energy at the utmost importance. This man was alive in a completely different way. And he was looking at you like he wanted to devour you. 
You’d barely raked your eyes up to his and caught the feral glint in his eyes before he was on you again, ripping your lab coat open and sliding his hands up and down your sides. His touch sent shivers of warmth through you and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you. That only seemed to spur him on. When his hands slid under the cotton sweater you wore, exploring the folds and dips of your abdomen, you shuddered. He was touching you like he hadn’t touched anyone before, all curious and explorative with just the hint of inexperienced clumsiness, fingers curious for such a mundane thing as the fold of skin over your ribcage as you lay there crouched beneath him. 
Bast, you needed more, his touch sending you into a frenzy. You wanted him, all of him. 
You started awkwardly extracting your arms from your lab coat, and when Barnes caught on, he was more than willing to help you shed it before his fingers went to the hem of your sweater. He paused then, and looked into your eyes for permission. You nodded, a bit eagerly perhaps, but whatever. 
He slowly slid the fabric of your sweater up your torso, and in a move more gentle than you’d anticipated from the way he removed his own clothes, he bent down and tentatively kissed your stomach - right on your tummy, soft kisses following the fabric up. It stole your breath away as you watched the movement avidly. 
He pushed the fabric all the way up over your bra, and reached with a curious hand to tug the cup down, revealing a hardened nipple. You were nearly shaking with want at this point, and shuddered embarrassingly hard when he took the nipple in his mouth and swiped his hot, wet tongue on it, nibbling gently and curiously with his teeth until you shuddered again.
You let your hands wander and found his hair, finally, finally getting to feel the soft, straight locks of hair sift through them, basking in the opportunity after having snuck peaks at it for months. It was even silkier than you’d imagined, despite its shaggy appearance. You combed your hands through his hair as he moved to suck on your other nipple, pulling the cup of your bra down to free your breast to the open air of the room. 
Scraping your nails over his scalp, you felt the way his form trembled atop you, and he almost purred, a deep, rumbling groan vibrating through you and into the very bench beneath you. You scraped over his scalp again and bit your lip as it elicited another rumble.
He let your nipple go, puffy and a shade darker than usual from his bullying, and you watched the string of saliva connect it to his lips with a blush burgeoning on your face. Oh, this might get filthy, you thought to yourself, almost embarrassed by how much you liked it when he closed the distance between you and licked into your mouth again, seemingly not caring about his spit getting everywhere, the kiss messy and wet. 
There was a tell-tale hard bulge pressing against the heated spot between your legs, and you rolled your hips down on it. Barnes gasped out of the kiss, looking almost shocked as he quickly looked down between your bodies to where he was pressed against you, and you wondered if he might’ve forgotten where all of these horny urges came from. You rolled your hips into him again, experimentally, and watched as realization hit him, as his eyelids drooped and a tiny groan escaped him. Then he rolled his hips to meet yours and it was your time to groan. 
“Just like that,” you whispered encouragingly, and met his gaze as he returned his eyes to yours, watching you intently as he rolled his hips again and again, grinding himself between your legs. 
He felt…big, to say the least, and he was grinding against your clothed clit in a way that you knew had you gushing into your panties. You could already feel the fabric getting soggy, sliding along your flesh as Barnes widened his step and grinded against you with more grounded precision. 
Fuck, it felt so good it was getting hard to think, and when his - oh god - vibranium hand slid down your side to grab your hip, effortlessly pinning you down into the bench so he could grind even harder against your core, the breath in your lungs fucking punched out of you. You knew just how much strength was packed into that metal arm. Knew there was a fine line between using too much strength and keeping you pinned firmly enough so you couldn’t move your hips an inch. Barnes traversed that line perfectly. 
Your pussy was on fire, the grinds of Bucky’s big, hard bulge against your clit too much while - simultaneously - the layers of clothes between you made it somehow not enough. It had been so long since you’d just frotted, clothed, like this, and you now wondered how you could’ve forgotten how fucking good it felt - or if it’d ever felt this good at all before. You seriously doubted it, for you couldn’t really believe it, but the rhythm and weight of Bucky's hips while his mouth lowered to mouth at your neck was somehow actually propelling you towards the edge. 
You tried to move your hips to grind back, to make him go faster, harder, but found yourself utterly - and deliciously - fully at his mercy as he nuzzled the crook of your neck and laved his tongue on your skin, tasting it in that fascinating curiosity of his. 
Fuck, it was right there, you could feel it, he was gonna make you come, you just needed a little more. 
Through the haze of your impending, building release, you could hear yourself start to whimper. Needy and a little embarrassing, the sounds escaping you despite you biting your lip and clutching at Barnes’s shoulders, barely holding on as he hurled you towards that precipice.
His face suddenly appeared from the crook of your neck, and it took you a second to realize he had a look of confused concern on his face as he looked down on you. 
To your utter distress, his hips slowed their steady, hard thrust against yours, and he gave you a once over you had a hard time understanding. Then it hit you that he must be concerned he’d done something wrong; that he’d mistaken your sounds of need for ones of pain or that you didn’t want it or something utterly ridiculous like that. Sweet, respectful, slightly confused and apparently wildly inexperienced man, you thought with an almost woeful endearment. You could feel yourself slipping further under the power of his spell as his eyes returned to your face, flitting about to try and decipher your expression.
That elusive orgasm you were dancing up to started to slip away as his hips grinded to a halt, and you reached out to cradle his face in near panic. 
“No, please, please, please don’t stop. It’s so good, please,” you practically whined, trying to move your own hips to get more of that sweet, intoxicating friction. You barely managed a little squiggle under the pinning strength of his hand on your hip and his body on top of yours.
A great gust of breath whooshed out of him, and he started up his rhythm again almost immediately, meeting your tiny writhing with thrusts of his own like he just couldn’t help it, and you threw your head back, biting your lip and nodding frantically as the pleasure built inside you again, picking up just behind where you’d left off. 
His hand, the one of flesh, slid up your torso to caress the exposed column of your neck, almost curiously, exploring, holding it in an almost tender grip as you moaned in delirium. His thrust grew harder, your moans louder and his hand gripped harder like he enjoyed the feeling of your moans being forced from you by his moving hips. 
You could tell the moment he started climbing his own precipice, how his movement grew more focused, more intent, leaving all exploration behind to chase a goal with an almost singular, feral possession. His breaths turned to gasps, which turned to grunts and then low growls. His movement turned frantic, almost feral in their one mindedness. He was losing himself to the pleasure and you whined, mind turning to slush under the onslaught of his ferocity. You were going dumb on his cock and he hadn’t even taken it out of his pants. Didn’t matter, you were done for. 
The wild, animalistic abandon with which he chased his own high was so blastingly hot it sent you tumbling over the edge almost entirely on its own. You gasped, your body tensing and then exploding under his as his grinding thrusts sent wave upon wave of searing, orgasmic bliss crashing into you, riding you so hard you nearly passed out. 
Your sight went blurry, blood roaring in your ears, but you heard the moment his breath caught in his throat, such a vulnerable sound, and then the bulge pressed to the sticky, clothed cunt between your legs started throbbing in an uneven, staccato rhythm, which you could feel against you even through the layers of clothing separating you. His grip turned to bruising steel and you gasped anew as the intensity of the pain mixed with your abating orgasm, making a shocking, intoxicating cocktail of sensation blast through you. 
He threw his head back, the thick column of his neck stretching taut, and growled like he was in pain, and it sent vibration straight through you down to the table beneath you. Fuck, he was like nothing you’d ever experienced - pure, raw power, lust, shocking honesty and a sense of almost ardent fascination - mixed together in this anomaly and mystery of a man.
It felt like several minutes passed as you tried to catch your breath and gather your mind from where it’d melted out of your ears to puddle on the bench around you. Bucky’s face had made its way into the crook of your neck, where he seemed just as slow and sluggish to come back down to earth. He was like a furnace on top of you, even hotter from his exertion, forehead damp and hot where it pressed to the sensitive skin of your neck. 
His weight on you was a comforting one though, making you feel safe and protected, covered and nestled into a cocoon of muscles and warmth and soft, puffing breaths. Taking a cheeky chance, you carded a hand through his hair, the brown strands soft, glinting in the fluorescents above as they shifted through your fingers. Bucky’s whole form shivered as you raked your fingernails along his scalp, and the bulge nestled tight between your thighs and his body throbbed once as he grunted softly, neck twisting to push his head into your hand, almost like a cat rubbing against your palm to get more scritches. 
A chuckle left your mouth as you kept carding your hand through Bucky’s hair. He looked up at you then, and the moment caught up with you. A blush had the audacity of spreading on your cheeks even after everything you’d just done. He looked into your eyes, silent but for your deep, still slightly labored breaths. You couldn’t help smiling. 
He looked a little dazzled for a moment, then a slow, beautiful smile spread on his own lips to answer yours.
"Um, it's been a long time, and I d-don't remember much, but I'm pretty sure this is not how you court a lady properly," he said a bit self-deprecatingly. You chuckled again, and he joined, his form vibrating with myrth. He made no move to get off you though. You wrapped your arms around his neck.
"I don't know, this doesn't feel too bad," you said, and you could practically feel the relief in Bucky as he let you keep him laying draped across you.
"Still. I'd like to take you out sometime. It was the real reason I came here, after all," he said.
You felt your smile turn wry.
"I thought you said you had errands...and whatnots," you said.
His gaze wavered for only a moment as he realized he'd revealed his own bluff. Then his smile grew sheepish, and so warm it sizzled.
972 notes · View notes
djarincore · 11 months ago
Text
The Object of My Desire
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: You're a hardworking scholar and the spoiled daughter of a corrupt nobleman.
The mercenary hired for your protection is more than willing to take your father's money, just not your bratty attitude. Luckily, he's got a few ways to deal with spoiled little girls like you.
PAIRING: fighter!price x wizard!reader
WORD COUNT: 5.1k
TAGS: DND!au, porn with some plot, f masturbation, dirty talk, cunnilingus, he bends you over a desk, PIV, rough sex, unprotected sex, slight breath play, creampie, slight jealously, reader gets called a bitch (not by Price but he does call you a brat whoops)
A/N: this is just a silly little idea that popped into my head while I tried learning more about DND! I actually rolled some dice to make some decisions/outcomes and it made the writing experience way more fun 10/10 recommend
Tumblr media
Winter’s gray sky cast a torrent of rain against the cobblestone roads and blew frigid winds through the streets of Moongarde. Despite the relentless weather, citizens continued to migrate towards the town's center in attendance for the annual Heroes Feast. 
You clutched your cloak tighter against your chest as you weaved through the crowds of people heading in the opposite direction. There were more important things to deal with than a stupid celebration—like the supposed danger you were in.
Having a father who enjoyed making enemies in high places certainly made your life interesting. Though, the threats on your life were, frankly, a nuisance. You had much better things to do than worry about silly threats from cowardly, old men. But, your father worried; he worried enough to hire a mercenary to guard you. 
You hoped he wasn't old and boring like the last one you chased away. Any guard who succumbed to simple illustory spells like fear weren't worth the gold your father spent. 
Ahead, a hanging sign swung forward in the wind. Carved into the wood was a crow perched on a branch, staring off beyond the borders of its design. The Ivory Crow—a dingy, little establishment you loathed to enter. 
With a grimace, you made your way up the creaking wooden stairs. Already, you could hear rowdy, clamorous songs and bellowing voices seeping through the cracks of its shabby, wooden walls. 
Before you could reach out to push open the swinging doors, they burst open and a man stumbled out, his weight nearly toppling onto you. 
“S’rry ‘bout tha’, m’ss,” he slurred, hiccuping as he ended his sentence. He grabbed onto one of the doors to steady himself, though he still swayed. 
“Move,” you demanded. His body blocked half the entrance and you weren’t interested in squeezing past him. He was covered in stains, presumably sweat and booze from the acrid smell of him. 
He lifted his head towards you, eyes half-lidded. “Hey, don’ tell me wha’ ta do,” he hissed. 
You rolled your eyes and raised a finger towards the man. The familiar warmth of magic pooled at your fingertip and was dispelled when you tapped his forehead.
He crumpled to the ground, eyes closed with his chest still rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. 
You wiped your finger against your velvet cloak and stepped over the unconscious body into the tavern. 
The inside was warmly lit by a large candle chandelier hanging from the tall rafters and more candles decorating tables. No one in the tavern seemed to have noticed your exchange. They were all absorbed in their own ideas of fun. 
A dwarven bard strummed her lute on top of a table, singing an unfamiliar tune and absorbing the adoring applause of drunken patrons who chimed in off-key. Couples, locked in heated embraces, cozied themselves to dimly lit corners of the tavern. 
If it wasn’t singing or lovers, there was plenty of conversation floating through the air to distract from anything outside. 
Your eyes scanned the tavern’s edge, looking for a lone figure at one of the tables. 
The mercenary gave your father instructions for you to find him at the Ivory Crow. Look for a bear on the pommel of his sword, your father had said.
In the far corner of the room, you finally spoted a vaguely familiar figure matching your idea of him, sitting on a stool with his back facing the wall and nursing a pint of ale between his hands. His eyes were downcast as he stared at the overflowing foam sliding down the metal pint. 
He seemed to be the only lone figure in the tavern, everyone else was joined by at least one other companion. 
His attire was shades of muted green and brown, darkened by grime and dirt. A sword tucked in its scabard leaned against the table. The pommel bore the crest of a roaring bear head.
You approached swiftly, maneuvering your way past the overflowing tables filled with patrons and stumbling drunks trying to get to the bar. 
When you reached the mercenary, you stood at the edge of his table. His gaze lifted from his drink to you. Blue eyes met yours.
He wasn't as old as your last guard, and he certainly wasn't as boring to look at. 
There was no surprise on his face as he looked at you, no glimmer of recognition; his stern countenance gave away nothing of his thoughts. His gaze was almost intense, discerning, and calculating.
You broke eye contact first to look down at the round stool opposite him. It had a spot of liquid on the edge that made you grimace. 
All the other surrounding chairs looked occupied. So, you dug through your leather bag and pulled a purple cloth from it. 
You wordlessly conjured up a spectral blue hand and offered up the cloth for it to wipe away the liquid. The hand dried up the liquid and deposited the cloth on the table before vanishing.
The mercenary had crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall to watch you, legs spread wide. Inquisitive eyes followed as you took a seat, back stiff with hands tucked into your cloak, clutching it tighter to your body as if it were shielding you.  
“Ser Jonathan Price, correct?” 
He nodded once and said nothing. 
You fished a hefty pouch from your leather bag and tossed it towards him. The platinum pieces inside rattled as they hit the table. 
His eyes fell to the bag for a moment, then slid back up to you, not attempting to reach for the pouch. 
Maybe he was unimpressed. 
“There's your payment for today—one hundred platinum pieces,” you stated and cleared your throat. “Now, the rules for this arrangement are simple: protect me and stay out of my way.”
You think he understood. He didn't say anything otherwise. There was a slight twitch in your eye when he tilted his head like he was looking at an amusing, little oddity. 
After another moment his arms unfurled and a hand reached out for the pouch. He cradled it in his palm, hefting it for its weight. The coins rattled. When he pushed two fingers into the closed seam and spread it open, you scoffed.
“If you think I'm lying, don't. Your coin is there.” You crossed your arms, in an attempt to be as nonplussed as he was—it was a poor attempt. You couldn't help the frown that stuck to your lips. 
He removed his fingers from the pouch and rapped his knuckles down hard against the wooden table twice, making you flinch and catching the attention of a passing barmaid. 
Their exchange was quick. She turned her head toward him with a bright smile, flirty even as her eyes roamed down his figure. He pointed a finger down at his pint and flicked his wrist up to call for one more. She nodded and flitted back to the bar. 
“Easy enough,” he said when he turned back to you. His voice was smoky, low. Probably caused by too many cigarettes and shouting. He rested his forearms on the table, one hand still gripped around the pouch. “But drop the ser, m’ not a knight.”  
Your brows furrowed. You recalled the description your father gave you of him. A knight who served under the King’s banner for twenty years. “But you’re-” 
“I was,” he interrupted firmly, leaving you with no room to argue. 
Your mouth remained open, wanting to bite back, but when his brow raised slightly at the hint of a challenge, you clenched your jaw. Any attempt to delve further into the topic would only prove futile and a waste of time. 
You took in a deep breath through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. “Fine,” you acquiesced. “How do I address you then?”
“John’s good enough for me."
“Okay, John,” you ground out and stood from your seat. “I want to leave before nightfall.” 
He held his hand up, stopping you in your place. “We're not going anywhere yet, love.” 
You bristled at both the nickname and his order. The arrangement was supposed to be the other way around. You give him orders and he follows. 
“Sit, drink—I already bought you a mug.”  
On cue, the barmaid returned to the table with another overflowing pint in her hand and set it down on your side. She wiped her hand down on her apron and looked at John, her charming smile returning. “Anythin’ else I can getcha?”
“No, thank you.” He returned her smile with a grin of his own. He dug into the pouch and pulled out a platinum piece, setting it in her outstretched hand. 
Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “This is too much! The drinks are only ten silver!”
You crossed your arms and interjected, “I agree. That's far too much.” 
“Keep it,” he assured, waving her off. 
The barmaid scurried away with an even wider smile than you thought possible. Her hair and skirt bounced as she went. 
With her gone, he turned his attention back to you and gestured back to your stool. “Drink with me.”
The foam dribbling down the sides of the metal pint made you grimace. You didn't drink ale; it wasn't to your taste. You preferred the rich, sweet taste of Evermead. 
But, another part of you was tempted, not by cheap ale. It was the mercenary, the ex-knight, Jonathan Price. Stern to you, yet kind to the barmaid. Silent but still expressive. You felt the tug of curiosity, the desire to learn everything about this stranger and unfold his secrets. 
You sat, watching as he took his ale and the bob of his throat as he drank. 
He set down his drink, now half full, and nodded his head toward your mug. “Don't be shy, love. Go on.” 
Your hand snuck out from your cloak and grasped the handle, cold and slightly sticky. Slowly, to not spill, you lifted the mug and took a sip. Cold liquid slid down your throat. The ale was bitter, watered down, and made your mouth twist with disgust. 
“That bad, eh?” He chuckled. You were alarmed to find his low, raspy chuckle disarming. Surely, the ale hadn't got to your head already.
You set the mug down, pushing it further away with your fingers, and wiped your lips clean of any foam left behind with the back of your hand. “I can't believe you like this.”
“Oh, I don't like this garbage.” He laughed, grabbing his mug once more. His thumb idly ran down the handle, throwing a glance out to the crowded tavern. “Just drinking to pass the time.”
“Surely there are better taverns to drink in.” You glanced around at the rowdy patrons once more. Two men were standing toe to toe at the table across from you, exchanging heated words. 
When he failed to respond, you tried following his eye. It led you to the opposite side of the room toward the barmaid who served you earlier tending to a group of adventurers. She pressed her hip against the table and chatted with them, laughing. 
“So, it’s not the drinks that bring you back,” you muttered to yourself, moving your gaze back to him. 
The small smile that tugged the corner of his lips as he watched her caused a strange feeling to stir in your chest. You clenched your hands together, forcing away the uncomfortable squeeze.
You stood abruptly from your seat, ignoring your chair tipping backwards and hitting the floor. His attention was on you again. The smile was gone.
“We’re going.”
“Haven't finished your drink,” he called as you stormed off. 
You ignored him, pushing straight between the two quarreling men. Your hands pressed hard against both their chests to pry them out of your way. 
The two men stumbled back, caught off guard. 
“Hey!”
“Don't touch me, you little bitch,” the other snarled. His hand shot out to grab your wrist, narrowly latching on. 
His movements were sloppy, most likely from all the ale he'd been drinking. You were quick enough to snatch your hand away before he could restrain you. 
You were beginning to really hate this tavern. 
More patrons were beginning to watch the exchange, sitting back like it was some spectacle. 
But, you saw John rise from his stool. His hand grasping his sword as he approached the men from behind. 
“Let's settle down, gentleman,” he said with a tired sigh.
The man who tried grabbing you turned his attention to John. “Stay outta this,” he hissed, clenching his fists and setting his shoulders back. He was much larger than John, towering at least a head taller.
You didn't want to find out how well a brawl between the two would end. 
“Obtempero."
The spell sliped from your lips and the man stiffend. In that instance, your mind was linked with his as you forcibly erased any free will he had. 
Shut up and sit down, you commanded. 
The room went silent as the man lowered onto his seat. You clenched your jaw when your head began to throb, a sign of him fighting against your control.
“Quickly,” you beckoned to the mercenary. Your control over the man’s mind wouldn't last long and you didn't want to stick around to face his wrath. 
You turned and dashed out the tavern doors, followed closely by John who was laughing to himself. 
“Clearly you can handle yourself. Don't know what you need me for,” he said.
A light rainfall had started, coating you and the streets in water. You raised your hood over your head to shield yourself. 
The street was still bustling with citizens with their umbrellas. A good cover in case the man tried following the two of you.
“I only agreed to a guard to appease father’s worries,” you muttered, sidestepping a pair of children running past you, chasing each other with wooden swords. “But, dealing with pea-brained oafs is easy compared to defending myself from someone with a dagger.”
He only hummed in reply, walking in stride with you up the cobblestone street. The rain was beginning to dampen his hair and clothes, but he didn't seem to mind.
You could feel your concentration on the spell waning the further you got until it snapped. You tensed and reached to grab John’s hand. His fingers wrapped around yours without question.
“We have to-”
“You bitch! I'm gonna tear you apart!”
Your head snapped around to find the man burst from the tavern door with a roar. Your heart jumped. The man almost seemed to burn with fury as he barreled up the street in search of you.
“This way.” 
John tugged your hand and you allowed him to pull you through the street, weaving your way through throngs of people. He pulled you through unfamiliar streets that passed by in a blur before taking a sharp right into an alleyway, tugging you into the shadows. 
Your back was against the stone walls and you heaved a sigh. Your heart raced with adrenaline. This certainly wasn't anything you'd experienced while nose-deep in a book. “Gods, I-”
“Shh,” he hushed, placing a hand over your mouth. 
Your eyes widened. He was looking out towards the street and you realized how close he was standing, nearly pressed against your front. Your hand gripped his wrist; to pry it off or hold him close, you didn't know.
When he deemed the coast clear, his hand fell away.
“Don't do that again,” you said weakly. 
He looked down at you, an amused smile forming. “Understood. Mind giving me my hand back then?”
You didn't realize your grip on his wrist remained. You released him and slipped away. 
“I'll lead us home.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The sun was just setting by the time you returned to the manor. John had followed you silently the whole way. 
“Welcome back, ma'am,” Ann greeted once you entered the foyer. She was a maid you'd known since you were a child. Her warm smile was akin to that of a mother’s, though you'd never call her such. 
“Ann will run you a bath and get you some new clothes.”
She was already moving up the left side of the split staircase to fulfill your request.
“What's wrong with my clothes?” John glanced down at his attire, smoothing his hand down the front of his doublet, now soaked with rain. 
“They're filthy and soaked. Now go.” You used your hand to shoo him off and he followed Ann with a sigh, ascending the stairs. 
You went off to another area of the manor where you could take your own bath and wash away the grime of that tavern.
When the bath was filled and ready, you shed your robes and stepped into the warmth, sighing as the warm water enveloped your body. You ran your hand up your arm, over your neck, and down your collarbone. 
While you washed, your thoughts wandered back to John. A hand slipped down the valley of your breasts and between your thighs. 
There was no question that he was attractive. The mercenary was new and surprisingly exciting—an experiment to toy with. You wanted to win him, have him in the palm of your hand and study what made him tick. 
Your index finger brushed against your clit. The first hum of pleasure bolted through your body. Slow teasing circles were drawn over your clit until you ached for more. Two fingers parted your folds to allow your middle finger to dip in. 
You sunk lower into the water, chin rippling the surface, and let your eyes fall shut to embrace your own touch while imagining it was someone else's. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
When you slipped out of the bath, satisfied, you redressed into a new robe. The loose low neck reached your abdomen, teasing the inner valley of your breasts. 
As you made your way to your room, you noticed the door was left slightly ajar. When you pushed open the door, you found John standing at your bookshelf, his fingers running down the spine of a tome. 
He was in a fresh set of clothes, loaned from a butler by the looks of it. The untucked, white dress shirt clung to the curves of his muscles, growing taut when he folded his arms. The black pants fit his form enough to show off the thickness of his thighs.
You shut the door and leaned against it, eyeing his form. The ache between your legs was growing again, wanting more than just your fingers this time. 
John turned around at the noise and you could see the buttons of his shirt were halfway done, revealing his toned chest with a smattering of hair. 
“Impressive collection,” he remarked. “I’d expect no less from a wizard.”
“I spent my entire life building this collection,” you replied absently. Your mind was wandering to other things—the veins on his arms, the bulge of his pectorals in the shirt. You were unashamedly staring through lowered eyelids, greedily taking in the sight. 
He was just as interested in your low cut robes. It was obvious in the way his eyes roamed your chest. 
You chose to close the gap until you were beside the bookcase, just a foot away from his side. 
He leaned his shoulder against the shelves and looked at you with a sly smirk. “Trying to charm me?”
Magic would make your game too easy.
Your hand moved to caress his jaw, smoothing over the soft hairs of his beard. He didn't move away, choosing to lean further into your touch. 
“I don't need to,” you hummed. Your fingers clawed up the slope of his neck and into the short strands of damp hair, drawing his face closer. “You're already mine.”
“That so?” His words fluttered along your lips in warm breaths. Strong hands fell to the curves of your waist, smoothing down to your ass and pulling you against his front. 
You felt the growing stiffness of his cock, trapped in his pants, press against your abdomen which only made the throbbing of your cunt worse. Instead of responding, you leaned forward and sealed your lips tightly against his, tasting smoke and bitter ale on his tongue. 
John was quick to respond, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip to get you to open up for him. His grip slid down your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms. 
You rubbed yourself against his bulge, trying to satisfy the need growing inside of you. There was a needy, animalistic frenzy in his low groan, vibrating in his chest. 
He backed you up towards your desk. It was cluttered with more tomes you amassed over the years, threatening to spill at the slightest touch. Your prized spell book, a gift from your father, was also sitting open, flipped to the enchantment spell you used earlier at the tavern. 
John didn't seem to care much for your precious collection as he swiped the books off your desk to make room to set you down. They scattered to the floor.
You pulled away, intent on telling him off. That spell book was one of a kind—
He didn't give you room to argue, much less breathe. His lips were already diving forward to capture yours again, dizzying you, driving any thought out of your head. Your legs spread around his to accommodate his body as he forced your attention back on him.
John’s hands pushed aside the fabric of your robe which easily fell around your waist, exposing your bare breasts to the cool room air. Your hardening nipples rubbed against the coarse fabric of his shirt. 
Your hands roamed his chest in turn, running over the coarse hairs and clawing down his exposed sternum. You worked quickly to unbutton the rest of his shirt and pushed it off his broad shoulders. 
Once revealed, you trailed your eyes over his chest and down to a nasty scar sliced from his upper torso across his stomach. It was old by the scaring. You briefly wondered if it was the reason he was no longer a knight as your hand reached out to brush over it. 
John caught your wrist in an iron grip. When you looked back at his face, his stern expression told you enough to stay silent about it. With your short nod, the tension in the air lifted and he was back to work on you.
Another night then, you thought. You'd unravel his secrets eventually. 
When he released your wrist and pulled away, he moved down to his knees, untying the knot at your waist and pushing aside the rest of the fabric to reveal the rest of your body. With your thighs spread, he could fit his hand between your thighs, feeling the arousal leaking from your cunt. 
“So wet already?” 
His middle finger parted your folds, dipping in ever so slightly, causing your hips to shift forward, but he pulled away before you could feel him any deeper. He got to his knees, grunting as his settled.
Your legs hooked over his shoulders, leaving him face to face with your cunt. His heavy breath fanned over your exposed cunt. 
“What a sight,” he muttered to himself before leaning in to flick his tongue over your clit again and again. 
Your body trembled with static after every stroke of his tongue. Your fingers locked through his brown hair, tugging sharply at the roots. He hissed through his teeth at the sting, but even that didn't stop him. 
His hands gripped your thighs around his shoulders, digging into the soft flesh and then smoothing up until his hands cupped your ass to push you further into his mouth. 
One of your hands rested on the table to give yourself leverage as you rode his face. The hair of his beard burned against your inner thigh.
The pleasure thruming through your veins forced your legs to lock around his head as your orgasm came to its peak. 
“That's it,” he coaxed. “Come in my fuckin’ mouth, love.” 
John kept his mouth on your fluttering cunt, refusing to pull away until he had taken every last drop of your cum. Your hands weakly pulled on his hair, but his fingers dug deeper into your thighs as he forced his head back in. 
“Gods,” you panted, looking down at him between your thighs, devouring you like a starved man. “Fuck me already.” 
“Patience,” he huffed, flicking his tongue languidly over your clit once again. Your body stiffened again. “You think you can take me after one little orgasm?” 
As you clenched around nothing and his tongue continued to take long strokes over your cunt, you rolled your eyes and snapped back, “Don’t be so cocky.”
He rose quickly after your remark, yanking your body off the desk as he went and forcing you around. One of his palms met the back of your neck and pushed you flat against the desk. His cock pressed against your ass. The fabric of his pants were rough against your bare skin. 
“Let-"
His other hand clamped over your mouth and he growled into your ear, “No—no more orders. I'll give you what you want, but don't start cryin’ when it doesn't fit.” 
You ached, wanting to rub your thighs together but his legs were in the way. His hand moved from your mouth to the button of his pants to pull himself free. 
You could feel his thick cock press against your ass. Even without looking, you could tell he was nothing like the other wizards you'd have meaningless flings with in school.  
His cock notched at your entrance and he asked lowly, “Ready, love?” 
The hand over your mouth moved to caress the valley of your knuckles as your hand clasped the edge of the desk. Such an intimate gesture you almost wanted to embrace by turning over your hand and intertwining fingers. 
But, you didn't have time for much thought before he buried himself into you as deep as he could go without resistance. Which was only the tip of his cock.
Your walls clamped around him, refusing to let him bully his way deeper. You whimpered, white-knuckling the desk, and shut your eyes. Gods, he was too thick. 
“Shh,” he cooed in your ear. His fingers slid across your temple and into your hair, keeping your head against the desk. “You wanted this, right? You can take more.”
And he did give you more—and more, and more. Your clawed at the desk, welled up tears spilling down the side of your face, as he stretched you around his cock. You didn't breathe, not until his hips met your ass and you were completely filled to the brim. 
You gasped, filling your lungs with air. The edge of the desk pressing against your abdomen allowed you to feel him deeper. 
He grunted as you clenched around his length. “So fuckin’ tight,” he muttered to himself as he slowly rocked into your fluttering heat. 
The friction wasn't enough for you. As always, you wanted more. You wanted to be fucked, ravished, devoured completely and thrown into a sickening rapture. 
“More,” you moaned as his cocked dragged against your walls. You were needy and hungry for him to take you harder. 
“Does a brat like you even know how to say please?” He slipped out of you completely instead. 
You whined in protest, moving your hips back to fill the empty ache he left behind. His hands moved to grip your waist, holding you in place. “No, don't.”
“Too good to beg for it?” His fingers prodded at your entrance before he slipped two inside. They weren't comparable to his cock though—not as thick, not as full. “Come on my fingers then.”
His fingers curled against the sensitive spongey spot inside of you.
“F-Fuck you,” you ground out between your teeth, biting back a moan. 
“That’s not what I asked for.” His voice was stern; there was no room for arguments, no room for demands other than his own. 
You bit your lip. You weren't the one who was supposed to be begging—he was. Having John wrapped around your finger, desperate to please you like everyone else, was the end goal. But this? 
Strong, commanding, taking what he wants—that was who John was. And even you couldn't help but relent to that dominance. 
“Please.”
“Speak up, love.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 
Bastard. 
“Please,” you repeated with a little more desperation than intended.
“Good girl,” he praised. His fingers slipped from you, pulling a string of your arousal with them, and he licked them clean. With his hands back on your hips, he lined up his cock and thrust back into you. 
Your mouth hung open as your back arched into the desk. The pace he set was relentless. It rocked your desk, sending any books and papers left on it to the floor. But you didn't care anymore, not when he found that perfect spot inside you again and again. Your toes curled as warmth pooled in your stomach and your core tightened. 
A hand wrapped around your neck once again, wrenching your back against his chest and forcing your head to the side. The sweat of your bodies melded you together. John’s fingers pressed on your throat with enough pressure to make you see stars. His gruff pants burst along the shell of your ear. His lips grazed the back of your neck as another hand moved to toy with your clit. 
You cursed as your body seized up and you came around him. You held onto the arm pressed against your chest as you rode out your orgasm. 
With a few more sharp thrusts, he spilled inside of you, flooding you with warmth. As you caught your breaths, he cupped your jaw and turned your head towards his to pull you into a searing kiss, still full of passion just like the first. 
You were almost boneless, sinking into the kiss and his arms. “Bed,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder when he released your jaw. “Now.”
John clicked his tongue as he slid out of you. A mix of your arousal begin to leak down your leg. You flinched when his hand cupped your sex to stop anymore from escaping. 
The action felt more possessive than anything else—something you weren't used to. Interest stirred in you once again. 
268 notes · View notes
austinsastrology8991 · 1 year ago
Text
> Mercury Aspects <
and why you sound like a Dumb Fuck
Tumblr media
Mercury Aspecting Sun - Your voice is authoritative and you love to flex on people with your loud appeal. However, your voice being the centre of attention (usually) can create an atmosphere where you're very controlling of the conversation. This is not so bad because others do like to listen to you, but the problem is others may not always feel heard. You are gifted at speaking, and gaining recognition from that, but a good conversation isn't formed from a fkn monologue, or outwitting the other, its about conversing - not speaking AT someone. But you speak clearly and its easy for others to call you smart Mercury Aspecting Moon - Nervous speakers who's tone is so dependent on how they are feeling, you literally have to give them a pat on the back to get a coherent answer out of them. These people are very thoughtful, but since they have been thinking about what they want to say for so long, they find themselves stuttering, and word vomiting; because they want to be careful with what they say hence the overthinking tendencies. They speak softly and it can make others relax around them. But people like to ask them to speak up a lot, so not so relaxing for them I guess Mercury Aspecting Venus - Pretty voices, and they always say the right thing. People love to talk to them cause they have a very receptive ear, but also a willingness to share their own ideas, and this duality makes it so others cannot help but be completely enamoured by their talking. They can sell water to a well, a fire to a lighter, a Samsung to a Apple store; they really can convince you anything just because you got lost in their language.
Mercury Aspecting Mars - Harsher voices that love to get aggressive on da mic. They love to swear but more than that, they love to talk shit, and well they are good at it because they don't really put so much thought into what they are saying, they just say it. And others have to remind these natives that they said some fucked up shit, and that they should calm down lol. But they perform very well in arguments, and its because they thrive in da art of da comeback Mercury Aspecting Jupiter - Naturally bold in what they say, and always have something interesting to talk about, and they are interesting, but they are always in the mood to teach you something and its kinda exhausting. Jim carry has this conjunct and well he is interesting... But he is also always trying to teach you something, but unfortunately for him we don't really care we just want him to make us laugh. And I guess thats why this combo can be a little unfortunate, because most people feel educated enough and don't want to be further educated. They so badly want to teach others, but unfortunately for them its a hard thing to teach in tongues > people learn from experience more, and they'd rather be the master of their own destiny (not owe it to yoi) > ik ur trying to help but you have to understand we are a stubborn species Mercury Aspecting Saturn - They speak with so much nonchalance, and its a great way to make others listen to them; because they acting like the answer is simple. But it's actually because they >think< they figured out all the possible answers; since they have studied/researched a lot just so they feel some semblance of control on the topic. And if they don't speak on a subject, its because they don't know the answer, and this decisiveness in when and when not to speak makes others respect their opinion more often than not.
Mercury Aspecting Uranus - You guys jump from subject to subject with such little foresight of what the fuck was happening in the conversation, I frankly get a headache talking to you. You are def interesting to talk to, but your lack of direction in communication, can get on my nerves and I hate your lack of care about it. You talk about anything under the sun, and this makes you someone almost perfect to speak to. Until the other person realizes the conversation as a whole was utterly meaningless. But these guys lowkey geniuses and their voices are 'unique' Mercury Aspecting Neptune - These people are um. hard to say. they really go all over the place. I've seen these natives go from speaking like a retard > to a professor > to barking like a dog > then speaking like the president; and its just a normal conversation for them. I think its because they pick up on the energy of what the conversation needs most and they shapeshift into whatever that need is; so you really don't know what your gonna get. You really can never can tell what they are going to say next, and they are a master at confusing yo brain. Also high-key the best person to talk about life with; very sensitive and genuine when need to be. Mercury Aspecting Pluto - These guys love to get deep n emotionally invest in any conversation they can. They have extremely piercing minds, and cannot be bothered talking about a 'nothing', so they always probe your brain, and swerve the conversation into something deeply uncomfortable for the both of you. Hey its more interesting than a boring conversation, and well if they never brought it up, lets be honest; you never would have thought about it in the unique perspective that they gave you. Also they are so blunt and forceful, you literally have to stop everything because of the audacity of what the fuck came out they mouth. They speak intensely and put all focus onto you/subject at hand, its low key uncomfortable; but always interesting
Tumblr media
925 notes · View notes
itsclydebitches · 2 months ago
Text
RWBY Recaps: Vol3E1 "Round One"
Tumblr media
Hello, everyone, and welcome to a new collection of RWBY Recaps!!
This is a unique project in that instead of writing purely for my own entertainment, these recaps are part of the Fandom Trumps Hate auction (you can check them out here if you're interested in learning more). Specifically, these recaps are a gift for the lovely Kae who requested some meta on the earlier Volumes, or work that focused on Ozpin and/or Ironwood. I figured that Volume Three would touch on all those requests and, frankly, it's an era of RWBY that I was already interested in covering. Volume 3 was a turning point for RWBY's tone and overall mythology and I'm eager to see what I think of it in 2024, after six additional seasons and a rather chaotic overhaul.
(If anyone is reading this from the future, one of the reasons why it took me so damn long to get the first recap out is because finding official streams of RWBY has become a fool's errand as it changes ownership. Fun!)
Anyway, the game plan is simple: cover all of Volume Three at an undetermined, though hopefully steady-ish pace from here on out. Technically, the deadline for our FTH fandowrks is at the end of 2024, however, I absolutely plan to continue this series past my 5k promise. As always, this will be a RWDE-focused meta (though I'm eager to see how much nostalgia carries me through the season), so if you Don't Like; Don't Read.
Everyone got that? Great!
Now, indulge me for a moment and cast your mind back. It's October of 2015. Pizza Rat is a tumblr icon, Left Shark still reigns, and everyone is arguing over whether a dress is gold and white, or blue and black (it's the former FYI ;). Amidst such quality memes RWBY begins airing again on the 24th, presumably bringing with it another season of stellar choreography and simple, if entertaining conflict. Team RWBY has just helped contain a massive breach courtesy of Cinder's machinations, Torchewick is in Ironwood's custody, the White Fang is falling under Salem's puppeteering, Penny has revealed her android identity as well as her supposed fate to save the world, the girls are beginning to acknowledge the responsibility of their chosen career path, and the mysterious Raven has been identified as Yang's birth mother. All in all, RWBY has a lot to play with going into its third season.
It's notable then that we open peacefully. The viewer is treated to a number of environmental shots to set the scene, including one of the forest with its iconic falling Fall leaves. Ruby is positioned at the edge of a cliff with her signature rose petals drifting behind her. Stylistically it fits the scene, though from a literal standpoint it also implies that she used her semblance speed to get here. Given the momentary reveal that she's speaking to her mom, that's a rather heartwarming detail.
Tumblr media
Sidenote: has anyone given any thought to cliffs in this series? It only occurred to me recently how often they show up, often during character milestones. Here we have Ruby talking to Summer for the first time, her (bodiless) grave situated at the end of a cliff. The Beacon initiation involves chucking the kids off a cliff and seeing how they fare, an action that is the catalyst for the group's introductions/growing dynamics. Shooting Oscar off the edge of Atlas solidifies Ironwood's turn from anti-hero to outright villain. Though I'm far from a fan of this scene, Ruby's (ridiculous) near-fall off the cliff during the fight with Cordovin preludes her (supposed) growth in leadership as she stands up to Qrow. Penny lets herself fall from Amity after sacrificing herself to get it up into the air. Then, of course, we've got the girls falling off of Ambrosius' bridge, taking them to a world where - execution aside - the intention was for them all to go through major developments: Ruby is literally reborn, Jaune experiences a lifetime of struggle, Yang and Blake finally admit their feelings, and Weiss... gets over her whole country being destroyed?
Idk, we'll have to come back to that one.
I clearly don't have a big takeaway here, just the acknowledgement that this is a visual RWBY gravitates towards. Might do a whole side meta on it some day...
Tumblr media
Anyway, as said we realize quickly this is Summer's grave with her name carved into the headstone along with "Thus kindly I scatter." Notably, she also has her rose motif there and it's likewise prominent on Ruby's belt in this scene. Looking back, we can see how RWBY did a better job at the start of sprinkling in these significant character details before, you know, dropping them completely and then attempting a rapid-fire resurrection. Meaning, I would have bought into the emotion of Ruby giving her pendant up in Volume 9 if we'd gotten these moments consistently throughout the story's run. It wouldn't take much, just a reminder every couple of episodes to maintain the momentum. Give Ruby a scene where she explains that this rose was left by Summer before she disappeared and she's treasured it ever since. Show a flashback where we learn that it was really left behind for both girls and Yang handed it down to Ruby when she was old enough to keep track of it. Give us a minor conflict where it's lost during battle and Ruby unnecessarily endangers herself in an attempt to retrieve it (perhaps in Volume 8, setting up that the object itself is not as important as the intangible love it represents). Hell, keep it lighthearted where Yang gets Ruby something rose related at the gift shop, Nora tucks a Rose into her hair while wandering the wilderness, Qrow gives the pendant a cheeky flick while talking about how Ruby's as stubborn as her mom. My point is there are a million ways the show could have built towards that scene in Volume 9 - ways like showing us that rose on Summer's gravestone - but the show dropped the ball halfway through.
Here and now though, Ruby begins catching Summer up on everything that's happened to her since she started Beacon, which serves as a useful way to catch the viewer up too - both those who, for whatever reason, may have started RWBY with Volume 3, and those who just need a hiatus refresher.
Ruby is delightfully awkward here, a personality trait that I think becomes more forced as the series goes on. She jokes that she hasn't gotten kicked out of Beacon yet - while doing that cute little rock on her heels thing - and says that she's able to "keep [Yang] in line" by being on the same team. She follows that up with, "...that was a joke" which is just quintessential Ruby to me. Love it.
She recaps that Yang has grown a lot as a fighter since Summer left, the rest of their team is made up of Blake and Weiss, together they form Team RWBY and yes, that's as confusing as it sounds. She's stopped bad guys and met some "odd" teachers, including Ozpin.
Tumblr media
(THAT'S MY BOY!!!)
Looking back, this is actually a fascinating couple of lines. At least, I think they have the potential to be fascinating if RT had followed a clear writing path. Ruby wonders again why Ozpin let her into Beacon early, but shrugs it off under the assumption that he'll tell her one day. "You know how he is."
Yeah, I do, Ruby. Do you?
We already knew from their initial interaction that Ruby knew who Ozpin was - she recognizes him on sight - though him posing the question implies that he never visited Patch post-her birth. At least, not recently enough for Ruby to have formed a memory of them meeting. I can only assume then that she's heard enough about him from Tai and Qrow to a) be sure of his identity (any promotional material/news about Beacon would have helped with that too) and b) believes strongly that her impression of him formed since entering Beacon aligns with what her parents presumably said about him: "You know how he is." The fact that this is in reference to Ozpin's secret keeping makes me wonder how often that came up around the dinner table. Did Tai ever express frustration, a la Ironwood, that they're clearly being kept in the dark about things? Did Qrow ever dodge the girls' questions about where he's been because he can't be honest about his spy activities, aligning Ozpin's reputation with secrecy by virtue of working for him? The casualness with which Ruby shrugs off Ozpin's secrets to Summer heavily implies that Ozpin's cagey history is both well known to the family and accepted.
Honestly, I would have loved to see this woven into Ruby's core characterization, perhaps even an extension of her "simple soul." Give me a girl who is intrinsically accepting of people, including their need to keep certain things close to the chest. Teammate deliberately kept her faunus identity under wraps? Friend hides the fact that she's an android from the whole world? Ruby accepts them. Ruby gets it. The fact that Ruby does, canonically, accept their duplicity without so much as a blink is, I think, one of the reasons why I expected her of all people to be more sympathetic towards Ozpin's hidden identity. We can argue about the girls' right to the truth via participating in this war till the cows come home, but at the end of the day Ozpin's secrets are intrinsically tied up in his family, his history, and the trauma surrounding both. Let the others get mad, prioritizing information over personal motivations (that does fit their characterizations well, with Blake perhaps being an exception), but Ruby? The show has never been willing to commit to the kind of dark story that would result in a 180 character growth - endlessly forgiving protagonist becomes jaded and cynical as she experiences The Horrors - and little moments like this one further emphasize to me that Ruby, specifically Ruby, is uniquely suited to helping Ozpin not just fight, but finally finish this war. It should never have been (just) about her talent with a scythe, or even the rarity of Silver Eyes. The Gods wanted Ozpin to unite humanity and here's a young woman who unabashedly loves everyone that the world tends to despise: secret keepers and drunk uncles and faunus and Schnees and scary androids. Ruby should have been the emotional bridge!!
Tumblr media
Okay, I swear I'm not going to make this series a rehash of my issues with the later Volumes lol. Inevitably some things are going to crop up though.
Tumblr media
Moving on, Ruby mentions that Tai is here too and the viewer gets to see his avatar for the first time, albeit from a distance. In keeping Summer updated on her... husband? Wait, were they married? Well, in keeping her updated on her partner, Ruby says that, "He's, you know... Dad," which, unlike the Ozpin line, is just plain funny. Sure, most of her talk is very exposition-y and absolutely functions as a soft lead-in to new content, but that's not to say a story should ever put absurd dialogue in a character's mouth simply for the sake of the viewer. That is, Ruby should never say, 'Oh, Tai is here! You know, my Dad?' because the person she's talking to, Summer, knows damn well who Tai is. Television has actually gotten better about this as a whole. Once upon a time a medical drama would have the doctor yelling, 'Her skin is turning yellow - she's jaundiced! Her liver is failing!' to ensure that the viewer understood precisely what 'jaundiced' meant, never mind how absurd it was for a professional to be shouting that among their peers. (Granted, medical dramas as a whole are absurd. I say that with love.) Despite RT's general inexperience, RWBY belongs to an era of televised storytelling where leaving certain things unsaid is par for the course.
Here, the unspoken information is what it means for Tai to be, you know, Tai. We don't really know who Tai is yet- personality-wise, I mean - so Ruby's comment functions more as a way to set up our expectations rather than to connect with us in agreement. We now expect Tai to be the kind of guy who does things to make his teenage daughter sigh and go, 'That's Dad...' and we, presumably, look forward to seeing that.
Granted, the three things we do know about Tai at this point in the story consist of:
He's a fellow Huntsmen (which is an insane job)
He let his daughter join Beacon two years early to also become a Huntress (also kinda insane but I support him)
He maintains a relationship with said daughter and daughter Sr by sending them their dog in the mail (do I really need to say it?)
Tumblr media
Based on that I suppose we can guess as to what Tai is like lol.
He calls Ruby away so they're not late for the match and she sends a last message to Summer over her shoulder: "It was good to talk." As we transition, a murder of crows flies across the sky. Or is it an unkindness of ravens? I can barely tell in real life, let alone when they're animated blobs, but either option works well enough given the upcoming revelation about the Branwen twins.
Tumblr media
Cutting to the arena a little time in the future, the viewer is treated to some establishing shots that, while simple, are honestly pretty cool. I believe this is our first introduction to Atlas' floating environments and showing a bit of Beacon Academy in the background helps give us a sense of scale.
Tumblr media
This event is clearly popular, with the stadium absolutely packed with people (even more are trickling in from ferrying ships) and, to RT's credit, they did a bit of work to convey diversity in this world. We see a decent variety of skin tones as well as faunus characteristics, to say nothing of the cool designs many of the competitors will get. Beyond the main cast still being overwhelmingly white, I'd say the biggest issue here is the lack of body diversity, what with everyone having the same, stick-thin figure. Yeah, RT is clearly using the same base model copied a hundred times and I'm very aware of their previous status as a small, independent company, but such visuals nevertheless stand out in a series that's been pushing a minority plotline for three seasons.
The camera swoops down to follow Team RWBY in the midst of a battle which, again, is staged in a way that's clearly meant to catch up/invite in new viewers. It's very trailer-esque as each shot lingers on Weiss, Blake, and Yang for a moment before finishing with Ruby, complete with a twirl of Crescent Rose. This is the show visually reminding you of what it's really about. Sure, we might have started with Ruby speaking peacefully by a grave, but at the end of the day RWBY is the story of a team engaging in combat situations.
Oobleck and Port are announcing the event and Oobleck throws out his standard "Doctor" when his title goes unacknowledged.
You know, I started RWBY nearly a decade ago. Four years ago I secured a PhD, so I feel that now.
Tumblr media
Port provides another handy info dump for those "just now joining us." AKA the viewer who has no idea what a Vytal Festival is, but this is as good an excuse as any given that people are still entering the stadium. Simply put, all the Kingdoms' huntsmen schools are competing as teams first, then as duos, then as individuals to determine the final winner who will have achieved "victory for their kingdom!" Age and year are irrelevant, which makes perfect sense given the nature of RWBY's combat. You've got young prodigies like Ruby and people who sneak into Beacon like Jaune, and though the other schools/years probably don't have as much drama going on, the variety of semblances, weapons, dust use, and personal experience really makes this anyone's game. A first year might easily beat a fourth year if they won the genetic lottery with their semblance, or a student from School A might trounce someone their age from School B, depending on how much their school has sent them into real combat situations.
Given all that, I kinda wish the Festival had developed the other Kingdoms more, given that it's the perfect opportunity for the cultures to learn from one another and/or butt heads. In a perfect world, one where RT had some sense of where their story was going, I would have loved to see:
Strong development of Vacuo's citizens, especially given that it will be the focal point of Volume 10 and possibly the end of the series (if we ever get that...).
Though the gag that Weiss excepts strict, militaristic fighters from Atlas only to get Neon is funny, that 'Don't judge a book by its cover' lesson really doesn't align well with what Volume 7 and 8 try to push. Better, perhaps, to set up Atlas' dictatorship tendencies before swinging hard in that direction (and I'll get into how what we do see doesn't make the cut).
How Remnant's racism gets displayed in a highly public competition. Do Blake and the other faunus face more discrimination now that they're in the public eye? Do asshole citizens challenge wins because no way did a faunus beat that human?
How different schools approach training their huntsmen. Specifically, everyone seems to abide by the four-person team structure, so why would this competition eventually highlight duos and individuals? It seems counter to what Beacon, and by extension all the other schools, are trying to promote. This setup would make more sense if we were shown that different schools have radically different curriculum. Maybe it's eventually 1v1 because Vacuo's individualist, survival-based culture teaches huntsmen to fend for themselves; teammates are just another liability. Maybe Atlas, being militaristic, prizes safety in numbers and has students train in groups of six rather than four. Maybe Mistral is incredibly semblance-focused (a way to develop Neptune's phobia rather than just making it a gag; a fighter who can't or won't use their semblance is considered effectively useless) and if you can negate that aspect of their style somehow, you find they're lacking severely in weapon-based combat.
Again, I know that RWBY, particularly early RWBY, only had so much time per episode, but looking back it feels like there are a lot of missed opportunities in this world-watched event. None of this is even taking into account Cinder sneaking into the school, or Penny being outed as an android. If any RWBY rewriters are reading this, the Festival is a potential goldmine of characterization and cultural development. If you're going to write random RWBY books, write some about that!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
One moment of cultural significance that is shown though is the Atlas security hovering around the arena. They mostly keep to the background, without any single appearance being obtrusive (yet). This is one of those moments where (some) fans look back and say, "See? Ironwood was always a controlling, military-obsessed bastard," but the reality is that this is incredibly tame by real world standards, to say nothing of the realities of RWBY's fantasy world. Regardless of how you feel about the, uh... motivations behind the security in your country (because that's a whole other conversation), you expect there to be some level of professional oversight when that many people are meeting in one place. That's a reality we have to work with, which includes all the potential pitfalls, biases, manipulations, and accidents that come with any large-scale endeavor. Toss in the fact that RWBY's security is designed to defend against man-eating monsters and I'm honestly surprised it isn't presented as dystopian here. Meaning, we easily could have been given a story where people are comparatively safe from grimm in modern day Remnant and the security functions primarily as outside control and/or a fear-mongering tactic. It's not that security is inherently unnecessary, but those walls have done a damn good job for the last generation or so, so why is James so insistent on populating this festival with his probably not-needed robots? Seems sus 🤔.
As it stands, grimm DO attack people on the regular (that was kind of a big part of last Volume's finale), security IS necessary (according to many other council professionals once James raises the issue), and it's arguably MORE necessary now - during the festival - because there are so many potentially negative emotions just waiting to crop up. Instead of "Seems sus," the reaction to having defensive robots around is more, "No duh." At the very least RWBY might have had the characters react to the security with suspicion/fear, even if that doesn't totally track with the rest of the worldbuilding, or better yet, demonstrate that there are major issues with AI leading the charge (robot mistakes kid in grimm mask for real grimm and fires a shot!). Granted, we get that through the hacking at the very end of the Volume, but here and now the Atlas ships seem to be used primarily for transporting viewers, the crowd is fully at ease with these guys, and — as we'll see later — the prospect of additional security in the form of AI is greeted with enthusiasm, not wariness, simply because it will keep real, breathing people off the front lines. Those are all important things to keep in mind when you consider whether a) The show took a very sharp turn in Volumes 7-8 or b) The show capitalized on a long established, slow burn plotline.
(Psst the answer is 'B')
ANYWAY, Oobleck is yelling about the "Spectacular spectacles on which to speculate on!" and I love him all the more. While he and Port narrate we get some non-animated shots of people viewing the Festival from around the world, though frankly it doesn't do much to help RWBY's worldbuilding. Some people watch the fights from a camper outside, others are in a minimalist apartment, still others are in what's basically a bar... if you're looking for intriguing backgrounds to drum up interest in the world outside of Beacon, you're not going to find it here. The presence of various faunus individuals is really the only thing that distinguishes these settings from a show based in the real world.
Onto the fighting! (It's about time :p) The girls are facing off against Team ABRN (pronounced "Auburn") from Haven and they're decent for a couple of one-off characters. I like the design of the girl with the skateboard - Reese - and how her weapon, the board itself, gives her a lot of flexibility in battle. Since it functions as a hoverboard she has a lot of maneuverability, she can use the board as a shield, a projectile, adapt its abilities via Dust, and - of course - she can pull both sides apart to duel wield the guns. Looking at all that flexibility, it is a little lame that she 'loses' that particular encounter with Blake by slipping on the ice, but then we're not really supposed to care about these characters. They exist solely to get us hyped for the battles to come and give a quick primer on how those battles will work. AKA, now we've learned that the battlefield itself has hazards the girls must circumvent.
Blake is cute here though. She's so concerned and I'm like yeah, girl, that looked like it hurt 😬
Tumblr media
This whole exchange has that same vibe: one of casual playfulness, which makes perfect sense given that this is supposed to be a fun competition. They're exhibition matches, not real attempts to take the other team out (which is why Yang's supposed act later in the tournament will be seen as so heinous). The guy with the pink hair (Nadir) full on pouts when Ruby successfully traps him in a block of ice and, of course, we have the classic "Got your back!"/"My BFF!" lines in response. The girls are enjoying themselves and that's so damn wholesome to see after all the tragedies - plot and writing-wise - of the later Volumes.
Team ABRN are able to make a bit of a comeback and - *gasp* - the girls have to actually think creatively/combine techniques in order to get the upper-hand. Blake successfully tricks Reese with a clone and catches her in the midriff with a quickly timed ribbon, cleanly knocking her out of the ring. It's here that we learn a team member can be eliminated via leaving the bounds, or having their aura dip too low (remember when that was a thing?) I know I just said there's teamwork, and there absolutely is here, but it did stand out to me how Blake just like... disappears after this moment? I mean she comes back, but it's clear RT wanted each girl to have her moment in this battle, despite the fact that any member who successfully defeated their opponent would be rushing off to help the others. That should be a near defining win condition - defeat one opponent and suddenly it's a 2 vs 1 situation for someone else - but that expectation falls by the wayside until the fight's final moments.
It's a good fight though. Not the greatest by RWBY standards, but it was no hardship to rewatch for this recap either. Weiss pulls out an epic ice hand that ensnares two of the members, now rolling chaotically across the arena, and clearly she thinks this is the end of the fight. However, Arslan — the monk-type who favors hand-to-hand combat (or the one with the "Eastern martial arts influence" according to the RWBY wiki...)— simply rolls her eyes, plants her feet, and shatters the ball with a single hit. Gotta admit, it's pretty cool.
Of course, Team RWBY still comes out victorious in the end. With all of Team ABRN now in one place, the girls have one of those lovely mind-reading moments and pull off a coordinated attack, allowing Yang to sucker-punch them all out of the ring. Again, it's nice to see that kind of teamwork, as well as the adorable way they all stand there, mildly shocked that they won.
I'll take that over the brazen, cocky confidence they've gained any day.
The only thing I'm kinda iffy about regarding this fight is how Team ABRN feels a little less like a full-fledged team to me, and more like a faint Team RWBY echo. It's most noticeable in the Yang vs. Arslan sections where you've got two yellow-coded, hand-to-hand snarkers facing off. Blake and Reese both feel like the cool, alternative style members of their teams, and then you've got the Weiss-Ruby duo trying to overtake the Bolin-Nadir duo. It's admittedly a subtle familiarity that lessens with each example, but it stood out to me in the re-watch; like Team ABRN only exists to give Team RWBY someone vaguely similar to overcome. Which, granted, they do. These are not characters we're going to follow as the series progresses, so in most respects they've done precisely what they needed to do and in a way that looks cool and feels entertaining. So this isn't a criticism, really. More an acknowledgment that RWBY is a series with limits and if we want to know more about these characters/flesh them out beyond their paralleling characteristics, we'll have to do that ourselves in the fanfic.
As Ruby jumps into the air in a victory celebration, we PowerPoint slide cut to the festival later that day where she nearly collapses, asking if anyone else is starving.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Yeah, child. You just made it through a physically intensive battle in front of an audience while existing as a teenager. Of course you're hungry. Blake's stomach gives a giant, embarrassing growl in response and Weiss sarcastically bemoans the fact that there's nowhere to eat at the food-focused festival. Good times, good times.
Ruby: "It's okay, Weiss. I forget about the fair grounds too."
Before they can grab lunch though Weiss declines a call from her father and an old 'acquaintance' suddenly shows up.
Emerald.
Tumblr media
You know, kudos to Katie here because Emerald's laugh and, "Good to see you, Ruby" sounds so fake to me now. It just oozes, 'I secretly hate you but am pulling out all my acting skills to convince you otherwise' energy. Obviously RWBY has a host of villains/antagonists that have done a plethora of heinous things, but there's something particularly skin-crawling to me about seeing Emerald in retrospect. Part of it is the deception. I don't know about anyone else, but I personally would prefer a villain who's upfront about their nature from the get-go, rather than one who pretends to be my friend before stabbing me in the back. The first scenario just lacks the same emotional punch, you know? Though the other part of it is, of course, knowing where everyone ends up. Beacon will fall. Ozpin will "die." Pyrrha will actually die, and our heroes will be sent out into a war they're in no way ready for. Yes, Salem is our ultimate Big Bad, yes Emerald has her sympathetic moments and does a heel-turn into "good guy" territory four Volumes from now... but I think the fandom often forgets that she willingly and actively participated in this horror show. This isn't someone just along for the ride because their crush manipulated them, this is someone with a working brain between their ears who has PLENTY of time to consider the ramifications of this and still went, "Yeah, I'll lie my way into orchestrating a massacre."
All this hindsight angst is interrupted by the joke (and I use that term with great reservation) that Ruby must have dropped her wallet because "Girl pockets are the worst!" Sorry, but that has such cis-guy-trying-to-relate-to-women-and-failing-miserably energy to me. Like yeah, I also hate the super small/outright fake pockets that they often sew into women's clothing and I too have smiled at women promoting pockets as part of their independent brands... but somehow hearing the RWBY writers reference it just doesn't land. It's not #problematic, just cringy.
Tumblr media
Emerald butters them up a bit by complimenting their fighting and Weiss notes that they haven't seen Emerald's teammates in action yet. We cut to their battle where they dominate the other team, complete with a disguised Neo showing her real eye color before she knocks the competitor out. "[They did] really well," says Emerald in the fakest humble tone ever heard.
Tumblr media
Ruby invites them all to lunch and Emerald - clearly horrified by the prospect - dodges by claiming that her teammates are too socially awkward for a meetup. In her defense, Mercury is in the process of randomly sniffing a boot, so although this is absolutely just an excuse, she's also not wrong. Like, at all lol.
Fishing for more info, Emerald asks who's moving onto the doubles round and it turns out that Team RWBY voted for Weiss and Yang. There are three things that I love about this moment:
They voted. Yes, Ruby cheekily tries to make it sound like this is all coming from her genius as team leader, but at the end of the day they decided as a team who would represent them. It's a small detail, but those stand out so much more now that we have Ruby vocally and angrily calling the shots.
(This is a ridiculous side-note I'm 99.9% sure I've mentioned before, but every time I talk about Ruby's intense form of "leadership" in the latter Volumes, I'm reminded of Rick's, "This is not a democracy!" in The Walking Dead. If you know, you know.)
They chose Weiss and Yang. From both an in-world and meta perspective, it's actually a little surprising that Ruby isn't representing them. As established, she's team leader. The team is named after her. She's the protagonist of the show. She's also, canonically, a prodigy wielding an insanely deadly weapon. Yet it's refreshing as a viewer to have a new duo taking the spotlight and within the story-world this choice reinforces Point #1: They're a team and no matter how individually talented any one member may be - or even what titles they hold - they are, at the end of the day, all on equal footing. Why shouldn't Yang and Weiss represent?
The way they both respond to this reveal is dang cute. Weiss' "I will happily represent Team RWBY" while curtseying to Emerald vs. Yang's "Yeah! We're gonna kick some butt!" while slamming her fists together. It's a great contrast and shows why these two might have been chosen. Though powerful on their own, their styles and personality are different enough to compensate for any flaws.
Tumblr media
With all that out of the way Emerald rejoins Mercury and her smile immediately drops. She's disgusted at having to get all buddy-buddy with them, but "Orders are orders." She has this classic villain moment where she expresses shock over how they're just so happy all the time and I'm like oh, honey. Darling. Morally misaligned baby girl. Just give it a few Volumes.
We cut to Team RWBY at lunch and aRE THE BOWLS SUPPOSED TO BE THAT BIG?
Tumblr media
I recalled that they were big as a visual gag, but not half the girls' size. Honestly? Great choice. I too want to live in a world where you can get insanely giant noodles a millisecond after you order them.
Deviating from the others, Blake nods at the seller dude and receives an equally giant bowl filled with fish. You know, I really wish RWBY had done something with the faunus' animal traits rather than turning them into an endless joke. The concept of a god merging humans with literal animals and then, generations down the line, cat-people being influenced by cat instincts as well as human instincts (because remember, we're animals too) is actually really interesting to me... but navigating the racial implications of that takes a level of nuance that RWBY was never interested in exploring. So we're just left with a Blake who is fish obsessed and chases laser pointers and hates dogs and we're supposed to laugh at all that, rather than buying into her teachings that many people use these traits to dehumanize the faunus.
Anyway, Weiss shows off a bit and pays for all their food. At least, she tries to. Turns out her card has been declined, which is more than a little confusing to her given that she was "barely into [her] monthly allowance." Hmm, could that possibly have anything to do with her ignoring her father's phone calls? Surely no one knows.
Luckily, Pyrrha shows up and offers to pay instead (it's nice having a famous BFF, huh?), but like... what were the girls' initial plans? None of them were expecting Weiss to pay, yet they act like Pyrrha is saving the day by showing up, implying that they don't have the money to cover their meal. The shop guy even takes Blake's fish away, leaving her despondent. So what? Were they planning to eat and just worry about the bill later? Actually, that sounds exactly like something these chaotic preteens would do lol. Yang especially. She was introduced while "buying" a drink before destroying the whole dang bar.
Speaking of teenagers, they all finish their bowls with the kind of appetite only seen in 14-71yos. Although, it was a near thing for Jaune. He's very close to barfing (callback!) and Nora encourages him to "aim it at the enemy!"
Tumblr media
She continues ragging on him for a bit, failing to come up with any compliments while hyping up her team. Pyrrha is a world-renowned fighter, Ren is basically a ninja, she can bench five of herself, and Jaune is... Jaune. Nora also doesn't include him in her secondary list which implies that Jaune a) hasn't trained as much (or, more realistically, hasn't gotten as much out of it) as the others, b) doesn't possess an "awesome" weapon, and c) is still frequently yelled at by Glynda.
Poor Jaune. I don't say that very often anymore, but he's going through it here lol.
All of this leads to Nora spiraling at the possibility of them losing. This includes the oh-so-causal drop that she and Ren "have no parents and no home left to go to" which is a HELL of a thing to throw out in a comedically framed breakdown. I mean, being orphans is sad enough, but "no home left to go to" won't be explained until we learn that their town was basically wiped off the map, so damn.
Tumblr media
Team RWBY reassures them that a fight with actual rules is nothing compared to what they've already been through. You know, the murderers, extremists, and sociopaths. "Oh," gushes Ruby, "imagine what it'll be like when we graduate!"
Tumblr media
As Port and Oobleck call Team JNPR to the arena for their match we cut to Emerald and Mercury settling in to enjoy the festivities. In retrospect, this right here is a really nicely composed shot:
Tumblr media
It tells us that Emerald is serious about going through with this destruction (again, she's no manipulated damsel), but she's not getting the same personal enjoyment out of it like Mercury is, as showcased by the smirk. The focus remains on them with Team RWBY framed in between. This is the villains' Volume. They're going to win. Our eyes follow the soon-to-be champions not of the festival, but the battle, while our heroes are literally and metaphorically trapped between them. Finally, Yang is the only one who looks back. We won't know this for several episodes, but she's at the heart of their plan and has every reason to cast the almost-but-not-quite-worried glance over her shoulder. Subtle foreshadowing, how I love thee.
It's shit like this that makes my brain go, "It used to be good! RWBY used to be fun AND occasionally insightful! Those overworked animators were uplifting a mediocre story and the result was good!!!"
Tumblr media
As they take their seats who should show up but Cinder, casually using her semblance to pop a kernel of popcorn (power move). "Even if you know how a story ends," she says, "that doesn't make it any less fun to watch." True that! I mean, she's talking about knowing that Team JNPR will be moving on because they need Pyrrha to murder Penny, but I agree with the sentiment outside of that context.
Tumblr media
Actually, do they ever explain how they manipulated the fights? I mean, they obviously entered and are winning their own battles and we know that Mercury will be staging his injury with Yang... but here Cinder makes it sound like she's pulling strings in every match. Toss that onto the list of development I would have liked for this Volume: what precisely are they doing behind the scenes? I'll have to pay careful attention going forward to make sure I don't miss anything because right now all I can recall is them looking at Penny's blueprints (presumably obtained via Watts).
Team JNPR's area is randomized into a forest and mountainous land before the battle commences. We end on that cliffhanger, complete with the superhero-esque freeze shot.
Tumblr media
And that concludes the first episode of Volume 3! As well as my first recap in a long while. If you've followed me at all you'll know that work has been my personal Big Bad the last two-ish years. Given the scope of my responsibilities and the energy they extract, I simply don't have the time or means to write the way I used to. However, I feel like if I can muster up the willpower to finish this on tonight of all nights (people reading from the future: check the posting date and you'll understand), then I must be getting a little better at carving out writing time in my hectic schedule. All hail self-improvement!
On that positive note, everyone have a wonderful night. Or at least try to. Seriously. Text a loved one, treat yourself to a favored snack, do something that feels fulfilling. Take some deep breaths and I'll see you for the next one.
~Clyde❤️
51 notes · View notes
ohdeersthings · 2 years ago
Text
Beautiful Sounds
Neteyam x Metkayina!Deaf!FReader
Summary: Neteyam finds a way
Warnings: Fluffffffff for daayyys, angst 👀 we are caught up in our feelings, not proof read
A big thank you to @iikatsukii for this idea! I hope you like it, I tried my best 😭😂
Part 2 to this little beauty:
Tumblr media
Neteyam thought he could never love anything so much until he met you. Learning your clans ways brought new insights to how the world can be so different but still beautiful. You were an example of that.
Even though you couldn't hear, you learned how to dance with elegance from the vibrations in the sand, he saw the patience you had with children, taking the time to guide them and understand what they needed, sometimes better than their own parents.
What really took his heart was how you found the simple joys of everyday life. The look of bliss on your face when the ocean sprays you with its salty mist, the contempt in your eyes as you looked at your family and friends. The love you expressed through your hands and body when you hugged or kissed him.
He thought you deserved to hear more than anyone, which is why after two months of communicating and deliberation with Norm and Max, they finally made the first set of hearing implants for Na'vi. A beautiful aqua to match your skin tone, and water proof so you could hear underwater as well.
As Neteyam watched from the shoreline as you raced your sister on Ilus, he couldn't help but feel nervous. He's practiced so hard with you and the others with sign language and yet he still continued to mess up sometimes. You never got angry or upset, just flashed your beautiful smile and repeated what he was trying to sign so he could practice again.
He'd especially been practicing for something special to you when the time came right, of course getting past Tonowari and Ronal wouldn't be easy. Taking one last glance at your figure, he turned and headed for the Marui pod that he knew your family resided in.
~.~
Ronal hissed and threw a shell at Neteyam which he ducked out of the way of, "You dare ask me such a question! That demon device will ruin her!" Tonowari just shook his head at his mate, she was nearing the end of her pregnancy and was very cranky.
"It'll help her hear! She can finally here all of you and everything around her!" Neteyam raised his hands in the air, trying to calm the angry pregnant woman. "Ronal, maybe she should give it a chance," Tonowari reasoned, Ronal growling lowly.
"You want to change her? You asked us mere days ago to mate and now you want this!? I pray to Great Mother to have the strength to not bury you alive! Skxawng!"
"No I don't want to change her! I want her to experience things that I know she longs for," Tonowari placed his hand on Ronal's shoulders giving her a look to calm down. Ronal did so, but not happily.
Both turned towards the young man, which he took as a continuation, "I promise, I love everything about her. The way she looks at the horizon with longing, wanting to go there and explore. The way (Y/n) wants to join in on everything everyone is doing but knows she can't hear everything, you may not have seen it, but I can. I hate that she cannot experience the wonderful sounds of the world, but if I could help her make one thing...The thing I know she may long for the most happen, I would crawl through viper thorns to do so, so please, let me try this," he begged at this point, taking a knee before the leaders of the clan.
Glancing at eachother, Tonowari spoke for both, "Very well, if she wants to try it, you have our blessing," Neteyam grinned, thanking them as he ran out the Marui pod to find you.
"You know he would never hurt her, Ronal?" Tonowari smiled at his mate gently, who rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Maybe Eywa will give me strength to not bury you, Tonowari,"
~.~
You huffed air laughing as Neteyam grabbed your hand, dragging you through the trees that surrounded the island.
Tapping his hand, he turned to you so he could watch, 'Where are we going?'
'Somewhere private' he replied, your smile wide as you let him carry on guiding you.
Coming to a beach front, your eyes saw a wonderful sight of a hand weaved blanket on the beach with some delicious fruit you adored. The sun was almost the horizon, the beauitful shades of orange and pink beginning to shine on the clouds and sky.
He led you down and helped sit you on the blanket, his eyes holding nothing but love for you. You returned the gaze, hand caressing his face as he lightly pecked your lips.
"I have something, for you," he gestured, you nodding, eyes staring at his figure so you wouldn't miss anything.
Pulling out a blue box from his hip bag, he opened it to reveal two small, weird looking devices. Your eyebrow furrowed, glancing up at him confused. Was this a forest thing? Why did it look like something sky demons made?
"Oh right, um," Neteyam mumbled to himself, licking his lips as he put the box down, hands moving slowly as he thought each sign out.
"These," points to the box, "help you, hear," he tried to keep it short and to the point. Yet this only confused you more.
"I cannot hear, how can these help me?" Your hands were moving quickly, 'I don't understand-' he took your hands into his, holding them close to his chest to try and regain your attention, your eyes narrowed with unease and confusion.
He let go slowly, his hands moving the same time as his lips, "These go in here," he gestured to your ear, "and when turned on, they let you hear," you slowly nodded, Neteyam picking up the box and holding it to you, the sunset reflecting of your eyes as you nodded to him.
Closing your eyes as you felt his hand gently place the small things in your ears, the other holding your cheek in reassurance.
He pressed on something, a small high pitched noise filled your ears which made your eyes shoot open. You looked around frantically, hands covering your ears and the devices from the shock of hearing something for the first time.
Neteyam placed his hands over yours, holding your head as your eyes turned to him with fear. He breathed in and out, eyes trained on yours as you began to copy him, slowly relaxing.
You both moved your hands, your ears twitching as you heard something else. A soft roaring and crashing sound that made you look to the water, eyes filling with tears as you signed, "waves?" His face lighting up and nodding, taking your hand as he helped you up.
You stared out into the giant mass of blue, the sound of the waves flooding every sense you had. The distant calls of birds and animals soon followed, all overwhelming but yet so majestic in your eyes.
Your hands came to cover your mouth and muffle your sobs as you began to cry. The world sounded different than you had ever thought, it sounded better.
Neteyam wrapped his arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Your shoulders slowly stopped shaking as you gazed up at him.
"(Y/n)" he whispered, your face morphing into one of disbelief. He sounded as gorgeous as he looked.
You tapped his lips, a grin on your face as you turned your body to face him completely now. "You can hear me?" He asked, your smile wide as you nodded. "There's something I want to ask you. I thought I would ask like this, but I want to ask you in your own way," he gently caressed your face as you nodded, feeling a small rush of adrenaline from all the excitement.
You never thought he would go through all this trouble for you, this just showing you how much he truly cared.
He held your hands, giving them a squeeze before taking a step back to see your whole body. Also incase he had to run from rejection.
'You are so beautiful,' he started, your eyes narrowing in curiosity, wondering where he was going with this. You were very flattered though as you shyly shuffled.
'When I look at you, I think of home' he started fumbling a little bit, but you smiled at him which gave him strength to keep going. "I want to spend the rest of my life, with you,'
Your mind suddenly went blank, realizing what he was asking, 'Will you be my mate?' He finished with a shy smile, but you were only staring at him with a blank expression.
A cold shiver ran down his spine, you weren't saying or doing anything. Just starting at him.
"(Y/n)?" He asked softly, taking a step forward to grab your fingers, but you jerked back suddenly, your ears flattened as you turned and ran.
Neteyam could only stare heartbroken as you disappeared from view, the sun now down below the horizon.
~.~
'You did what!?' Tsireya signed, but you didn't see it as you were hiding your face in your hands in shame. Tsireya tapped you, your glossy eyes looking at her disbelief ones. 'You left him without an answer? I thought you loved Neteyam!' 'I do!' You began, teeth gritting together, 'why would he want me?' You sobbed, tears begging to flow passed your waterline, Tsireya looking at you in empathy. 'I cannot hear, I cannot talk well, I only babble like newborn baby,' you began to hiccup, 'He gave me these to help me hear, I wish to talk to him like he can with me, but my voice is ugly,'
Tsireya grabbed your shoulders, her look fierce as she shook her head, "No! Your voice is beautiful and unique!" She knew you didn't take the sky peoples devices out, so you could hear her.
And hear her you would.
"Neteyam begged mother and father for weeks before they agreed! He planned these hearing devices for months. He loves you, all of you!" Tsireya exclaimed, your whimpers making her hug you close. "If you wish to speak to him, we will help you," Tsireya declared, her heart breaking for her older sister.
(Y/n) spent her whole life looking after others, even with the loss of hearing. Tsireya felt a few tears slip through her own eyelashes as she's never seen you this upset before. You were always smiling for everyone, the first one out and the last one in. You never told anyone how you truly felt.
Tsireya promised to Eywa she would make it right.
~.~
You avoided Neteyam for days, diving out of sight when you caught a glimpse of the oldest Sully sibling, your heart filled with guilt. You never meant to hurt him, but how could you face him before you were ready.
The Sully siblings, aside from Neteyam, knew what you were doing and tried their best to help both sides, but they still felt bad for their oldest brother.
Your own siblings helped you morning and night in getting your words more precise and clean, the pronunciation being the hardest as you technically never had to speak Na'vi or English before.
You sat in that beach shore cove Neteyam had brought you to only days prior, your eyes clenched in frustration as you tried again.
"oil ngatee kameee," the simple phrase of 'I see you' fell from your lips as you groaned in your throat. You were never going to get it, they sounded slurred together and it was hard to understand.
Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and tried again, "oel ngati kameie," this time it sounded better, but you really had to think and enunciate with your lips.
Head falling into your hands, you felt a few tears slip out. Why did Neteyam choose you? There are better girls, ones who weren't at a disadvantage like you were.
Standing up, you turned to see Neteyam right behind you.
You gasped inwardly, taking a few steps back. Neteyam only stared at you with a inquiring look, but you could see the hurt in his eyes too.
'I'm sorry,' you signed, looking down so your bohemian knotless braids covered your face. You couldn't face him. 'I'll leave now,' you made to scurry past him when he grabbed your hand, your breath hitching as you were frozen in place.
He carefully walked around to face you, his face looking solem at your stiff body. 'Why?' He questioned, you feeling tears staring to build up. 'Many girls better than me,' you answered, his shocked expression taking you off guard. 'No one is better than you, I only want you, now and forever,' he signed passionately, your tears streaming down your face as you shook your head.
'I sound like a baby, I cannot talk like an adult,' you desperately tried to get him to see, but he only shook his head at you.
'I have never heard your voice, but your quiet huff bring music to my ears. My heart yearns for yours so that they may beat together. Make their own sound, together. As one," Neteyam emphasized, never seeing you look so down heartened as you did right now.
Lo'ak had finally cracked and told him that you'd been practicing your voice and speech so that you could be better. Better for him. When all Neteyam wanted was you. He was so lost these last few days, never seeing you and his thoughts running wild on why you rejected him.
'Please, I stand here with my heart for you. I only want you, (Y/n)," he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his eyes closed in pain as he wished you could see yourself how he does.
"Neteyam," you whispered, his eyes shooting open as your lips twitched. "Yes," you said answered, his face changing rapidly between emotions.
"Y-yes? Yes you'll be my mate?!" He exclaimed, his eyes turning glossy as he realized you'd just spoken to him. You laughed and nodded, Neteyam cackling as he picked you up and spun you around.
"She said yes!" He yelled out, both of you now laughing like idiots as he fell back, both of you landing in the sand.
You rolled over, lips connecting with his with urgency as he gave it right back. Both of you in each other's embrace, fitting perfect together like a puzzle.
'I love you,(Y/n)' he signed, eyes filled with adoration cause you to smile back shyly, "I love you, Neteyam,"
Even though Neteyam had given you the blessing of being able to hear, the most beauitful sound you'd ever heard was his voice.
You couldn't wait to listen to it for the rest of your life.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@eywas-heir @jimfiqs @minkyungseokie
@bealone-prm @thecrazyswamp
@he110hon @urforevermore
@iikatsukii
2K notes · View notes
nevaroonie · 2 months ago
Text
Dear Treasure
A/N - this was the very first redactober fic i wrote lmfao
The prompt for this one was Part with
Deputy read by the lovely @achios
Porter x Treasure Angst
Treasure breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped inside their home. Hanging out with their friends was always a draining experience. Perhaps they shouldn't have accepted their half-assed apologies. But sometimes, they let others walk over them. It was something they were trying to grow out of, but old habits die hard. 
Slipping out of their shoes and locking the door they made their way to the kitchen. They needed something to drink. Whether it was actual alcohol or water didn’t matter. They just needed something to quench their dry throat. 
As they reached for a glass, they could feel the slender touch of someone else's hands—cold yet warm. He had a habit of doing this; just showing up, and maybe they loved that about him. It was like he was a personal comfort. 
Or at least till he leaves them for weeks at a time. Though having that conversation again would burn them out more than they already are at least. They needed relaxation; a deep sigh left their mouth as they leaned into the arms of the man they loved. 
‘’ Treasure.. Oh, how I’ve missed you. ‘’ his tone was different, he seemed.. Upset. And that troubled them. 
‘’ Porter, I have missed you as well.. Today has been long. ‘’ A small yawn ripped through them. 
‘’ Tell me all about my dearest.. ‘’ There it was, that tone again.
‘’ Porter.. What is troubling you.? ‘’ They were no longer looking to clear their thirst as they brought their hands down and turned to face their companion. They wanted to get a closer look at his face; to be able to read him. 
They wanted to figure out what was wrong with him. They’d had a long night but they could push what they needed in order to help him. 
‘’ Treasure.. I may not know you well.. But I know you well enough. ‘’ The slight change in his tone was better; similar but different. However he wasn’t wrong, after their trip to the fair. He’d grown to know them. 
However, he picked up a skill, learning how to read them. So as they stood inches away from each other's faces and the cup on the counter; hearts in sync.. He could feel Treasure's hand sliding up his arms, eventually reaching his face. Locking their eyes with his.. Their warmth felt nice and undeserved.
He grabbed their hand and placed a small kiss in the center of it, the last night they shared together would be one of fun. Just simple pleasures- he didn’t deserve any more than that. His eyes found their way back to their face. They screamed tired, yet a glimpse of hope was there. Almost as if they knew what he planned to do. His hand now finding its way to their warm skin was comforting. An experience he grew to love.. A beauty that could rival that of the divines.. 
‘’ It was just a long day. ‘’ They expressed clinging to his new embrace. 
‘’ Perhaps we should head to bed then, you can tell me all about it.’’ 
Though they wanted to help him, their body needed the rest. And this is a perfect time to practice breaking that bad habit of theirs. After all, Porter wasn’t a friend that would take advantage of their kindness. He made the effort to See Them, to know them. He made an effort that their so-called friends didn’t. 
Perhaps they’ll make the effort to better themselves. So as he took their hand to lead them to the bedroom. They went without question, they didn’t have the energy to disagree nor did they want to. 
Porter was lost in his thoughts, was coming here a bad idea? No. Leaving without a word would’ve made them feel like it was their fault. It's not anyone's fault, he knew his job was dangerous. He knew one day this day would arrive. 
The day he had to leave his Treasure. The one thing that he had left in this life. This life.. He wouldn’t wish it upon anyone. Nor the familial issues it came with-
‘’ are you going to join me under the covers? ‘’ Treasure eyed the man sitting on the edge of the bed- something was bothering him. They wanted to say something else but they needed their rest. The day was long and they were drained.. They cared for the vampire but.. They couldn’t listen to anyone else today. 
‘’ yes, my dear.. I was just thinking,‘’ he said as he climbed into bed, right next to them. With some more movements and blanket readjustments. Treasure laid in porters arms. 
‘’ Now.. tell me about that day of yours. ‘’ 
___
The sun shone on Treasure's face, slowly but surely waking them up. If it was morning they didn’t expect their vampire companion to still be here. Throwing their feet on the other side of the bed and stepping off they needed to get their day started. 
A cup of coffee would help them. Or at least wake them fully up. However, a surprise they weren’t to see was a freshly brewed pot of coffee and a letter under it. The only person in their home was Porter and they doubted anyone breaking in. 
Grabbing a coffee cup from the cabinet they poured some coffee into the cup and glanced at the letter… hm.. It had been addressed to them. And it was from Porter.. He was the only one who called them Treasure after all.
Why would he leave them a letter? He could have just told them whatever he needed to say. Taking in a deep sigh they grabbed the letter unfolding it in the process. Just what had Porter wanted to say? 
Dear Treasure 
If you’re reading this, I had to leave.. Not because I wanted to, but rather because my job forced me to leave. The life of Porter Solaire is not an easy one. And you were one of the only things. That truly made me remember the goods in companionship. 
When you’ve been around for as long as I have you forget things like that and you can tend to flock to one-time things. But you were different, something I couldn’t explain.. Perhaps it was the way you smiled at me. Or maybe the way you could read me.. See through the walls I had so had high up, and just knock them down. 
Treasure knowing you has been amazing. And leaving you is the last thing I wanted to do. But I have to draw the line between causing you pain or having to live with your death on my hands. I’d rather cause the pain of leaving you behind.
We may not have known each other well enough to be considered lovers.. And we may have started as a continuous fling. But I would not have wanted to call anyone else My Treasure. You dear are something special.
  Yours Truly   
 Porter Solaire
Treasure placed the letter down, their mind still reeling as they processed what just happened. They were expecting some cheesy love letter. Or an apology for disappearing for the next few days— or a month. But this? The last thing they were expecting was what could be considered a break up letter? It wasn’t an outright farewell, but the finality was there, lurking between the lines, and that stung more than they had expected.
Well they were barely a thing.. So could it be considered a break up? The uncertainty gnawed at them. This was hard and why did it hurt? It shouldn’t have, right? They barely knew the man, despite a few flings a date or two they were ultimately strangers and yet this hurts. And yet, the ache in their chest said otherwise. Maybe it wasn’t the depth of their relationship that mattered, but the way Porter had slipped past their defenses, made them feel seen in a way very few others had.
The two helped each other when they needed each other most. And now he’s gone. Perhaps they would’ve taken the risk— they weren’t done getting to know one another. And now that untold chapter will never finish.
Life was cruel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist - @dawnofiight @sunsickcrab @porters-fangs @paythesmith @achios @yournewmusictaste @ashertickler @s0lairee
41 notes · View notes
temis-de-leon · 6 months ago
Text
Requited unrequited love - 500 F.C.
Characters: Satan x fem!reader
Main Masterlist
500 followers masterlist
Requested by: @tinyweebsstuff
CW: misunderstandings, insecurities, jealousy. MC is afraid to fail in front of Satan and doesn't talk to him, which makes her sure that he doesn't like her; meanwhile, Satan thinks MC doesn't like him because she doesn't talk to him
.
Winter in the Devildom, as MC soon had the need to learn, showed mercy to no one, especially her. It numbed her fingers and her nose, froze her eyelashes and made her sleep restless; no amount of blankets could shield her from the cold nights in the House of Lamentation and she’d already burned her tongue more than once for drinking her tea straight out of the kettle.
She expected Hell to be a vast terrain built on molten lava and drenched in hot, humid, ashen air, but she couldn’t be more wrong. While spring and autumn were enjoyable and summer left her at least the few hours of the night to go out, winter gave her no such truce.
Knowing that her demon classmates suffered almost as much as her was her only consolation prize and maybe that was the reason why sitting on the ground with all of them during alchemy felt more like a bonfire between friends than a lesson.
The blue fire in front of them warmed the entire classroom, silky blaze licking the wooden ceiling without any threat and casting a hypnotizing light that helped nothing in keeping them awake. One of her classmates was hugging her arm, already half unconscious on her shoulder, and MC had to gather all of her strength to not rest her head on top of her friend’s to do the same. Satan was sitting next to her and, although his entire body faced the professor and the blackboard, his eyes remained fixed on her figure.
What was he thinking? He was obviously waiting, expecting her to say something about what their teacher was showing them. The lesson about Hellfire had occupied almost two weeks of their syllabus, starting in its birth, its short life in the human realm and all the uses across the Devildom, which included, of course, the existent types and those available to unauthorized public.
The one with highest temperature displayed an unnatural toxic green, a colour she’d never seen before, and only a limited number of high ranked officials could use it. Since peace roamed the Devildom, the rest of civilians could only see it in national festivities and celebrations, like Dia’s birthday.
Then there was the blue fire, the closest she’d been to the human summer sky in months. It needed supervision and experience in pyromancy, but no written permission. Lucifer had even showed it to her a couple of days ago, amused at her amazement while his brothers stared unimpressed. A certain blond, irritated at Lucifer’s inflated ego, had asked her with a strained voice if such thing existed in the human realm.
And MC could’ve told him the truth and talk about the interactions between hydrogen, oxygen and sulphur during combustion. An exothermic reaction she’d only seen in the lab under her teacher’s watchful eye and in pictures from the Ijen volcano in Indonesia.
She could’ve drawn the pathways in detail, every letter, number and line that lead to that phenomenon.
She could’ve shown her knowledge with excited intensity, letting him see her brain. The rules of the world, like recipes, following an order that gave sense to everything. Chemical elements, organic and manmade, combining and disintegrating amongst each other, against each other. Making her heart beat irregularly whenever he entered a room, keeping her awake at night thinking about him, fearing the possibility of disappointing him.
He had looked at her those couple of days ago, ignoring Lucifer’s magic, and he had asked her a simple question.  
“I don’t know” she had said in return, lying through her teeth.
Bile rose up her throat at the self-betrayal, the part of her brain that spent hours studying strange names and complicated reactions begging her to tell him the truth while her lovesick heart forced her to keep quiet.
MC couldn’t bear the idea of failing in front of him, especially in something she knew was her expertise. How stupid would she look then?
Not in a million years.
Her classmate suddenly pulled her out of her memories when he moved his head, groaning in deep slumber and hugging her arm tighter. Satan snarled beside her, bothered and disappointed.
What did he want from her exactly?
In the end, as minutes passed, the professor finally, thankfully, understood that no one was in right conditions to pay attention and let everyone enjoy the warmth of the Hellfire while offering individual tutoring for those interested.
With extreme care, trying not to wake him up, MC moved his friend’s head from her shoulder and placed it on his backpack. The sigh of his squished cheek and drool pooling under him made her chuckle and wonder, not for the first nor the last time, how did she end up being friends with creatures she didn’t even knew existed until months ago.
“Are you both close?”
Satan was looking at her, at her friend, keeping a neutral expression that left her no room to think of an appropriate response. MC tried to avoid his gaze by looking at his notebook and the details of his diagrams and his tidy handwriting, but he closed it, hiding it under his thigh to claim her attention again.
“He’s a nice friend” she said after letting out a long sigh.
Something shifted in his eyes at her words, but MC couldn’t identify it. He seemed softer all of a sudden and her heart did a backflip when she noticed, breath faltering for just a second before forcing her to keep the conversation going.
“Only during classes, though… I hardly see him outside of RAD”
“And would you want to?”
“Oh?”
He stared at her expectantly, leaning forward to keep the conversation private. Half of the group was fast asleep on the ground and their whispers were only subdued by the voices of the professor and a couple of other students.
The blue light reflected in his pupils, pulling her in, but his question confused her.
“I don’t know, it would be nice, I guess?” MC shrugged “We don’t have that much in common, so I don’t know what we would do”
“And what things do you like?”
Once again, his question threw her out of the blue. His eager eyes, although cautious, followed her every movement; he was also subtly nodding his head as if to encourage her to answer.
This was her chance, wasn’t it? Lying about her capabilities would only make her feel worse, but what if she couldn’t prove them? What if he asked something that she couldn’t answer?
“Chemistry is interesting”
She tried to appear nonchalant, ignoring the submission in her voice. It wasn’t a lie and she wasn’t giving too much, which was enough for the moment. Maybe, in the future…
“Oh, that’s great!” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes at the groans of discomfort from the rest of the group. Satan opened his notebook, immediately finding a page full of not so pretty scribbles and colourful doodles. He showed it to her, but moved with such excitement that MC couldn’t read it properly. “I got curious about the blue fire and bought some human books. It has something to do with sulphur, I’m not exactly sure how, but it does make a lot of sense. See, humans always used sulphur to keep demons away”
“And how do you use it if it keeps you away?”
“How do you use red fire if it burns you?”
“I guess that makes sense”
He chuckled, sitting closer to her so he could show his research. MC’s cheeks got warmer and a smile appeared in her face with no intention of vanishing. She saw, out of the corner of her eye, the blush that tainted his skin, which made her grin grew even wider.
“The books are in my room, so… If you ever want to check them out…”
“I’d love that!”
.
The other students loudly shushed them, getting a final shush back from the teacher.
MC looked at Satan, who smiled just as happy as her. She wondered if anyone there could hear the beating of her heart, its thuds against her ribcage, but, after seeing Satan’s blush one more time, she discovered that she didn’t care one bit.
.
80 notes · View notes
funnier-as-a-system · 6 months ago
Note
okay, this is gonna sound super stupid, but I desperately need advice:
does talking to other people in your head to comfort yourself count as being on the plurality spectrum?? I'm not educated on it by any means, and sometimes its just my own thoughts, and sometimes theres other people in my head. Am i just making this all up??? Im actually kinda nervous ab this , so any advice is welcome ,,
(other info: I also disassociate sometimes too, just going throughout my days just living in my head / talking to myself, or feeling like nothing is real ,, )
It very well may be plurality! In fact, I'd say it almost certainly sounds like it!
In plurality, there is more than one self-aware self or being occupying the same body. This includes situations of multiple people sharing the same body who talk to each other (and comfort each other). The question for you, then, is this: are these people you talk to self-aware? Or are they simple figures you imagine to bring you comfort? (There's no shame in the second, btw!)
Since you talk to them, it seems like the best course of action may be to just ask them whether or not they consider themselves their own people, or headmates. If they answer "yes", well, that's that, isn't it? You've got multiple people in your head who can think for themselves! (And if you feel like you're controlling or strongly guiding their answer, well, that's an indicator in the other direction, isn't it?) Now, this may get a bit tricky since it's sometimes your own thoughts that you talk to, but I assume there's a distinction between your thoughts and these other people that you can make and recognize whenever you talk to yourself or them. I also acknowledge that self-doubt is an annoying burr when it comes to things like this, and your initial reaction may be, "But what if I just imagine/make up their answer?" – in these cases, there's not much you can do except do your best to trust your headmates that they're speaking for themselves, but if you're especially worried about it, looking for corroborative evidence of plurality – like switches, memory gaps, differences in opinion between yourself and your headmates, etc. – may help you shut down those fears of making it all up. Speaking of...
The dissociation you mention also sounds like another indicator that you may be plural, as systems often experience dissociation like that. Granted, so do those with immersive daydreaming, but that just loops us back around to the question of whether or not these people in your head are temporary figments of your imagination you conjure up for the purpose of comfort or a daydream narrative, or just people living in there who comfort you when you need it. And if you've got a feeling one way or the other just based on the way I'm talking about them... follow it. It's probably the right one.
I very much doubt that you're making all this up; whether or not you're plural, you're definitely experiencing something, and you wouldn't request advice if that something didn't matter to you. With all honesty, I'm trying to do my best to cover all possibilities here just in case, but if this weren't already a conversation about you questioning if you're a system, I would be suggesting that you look into the idea of plurality from the moment you mentioned these other people in your head.
In conclusion, while I'd never decide for someone else whether or not they're on the plurality spectrum, it does sound very, very likely to me that you are. "I have people in my head who comfort me and aren't just my own thoughts." is a very, very plural thing to say.
If you'd like to learn more about plurality, I recommend checking out morethanone and healthymultiplicity.com. They're good resources for those new to plurality, as well as those questioning if they're plural.
I hope this helps!
80 notes · View notes
gojoidyll · 1 year ago
Text
Neuvillette x Reader
warnings: light angst, fluff at the end
(not gender specific btw)
You didn't know what to expect when first getting into a relationship with the Chief Justice of Fontaine, but what you did know was that you were craving touch.
It was no surprise when someone would figure out that you were touch starved for the most basic of things (like handholding). And the one thing you craved for more was none other than just a simple hug. And who else would give you one when your significant other just so happened to Neuvillette.
However, ever since getting into a relationship with him, you couldn't help but feel clingy (too clingy), and you hated that feeling. So in his presence you always tried to make yourself smaller. Talk quieter. Not hold his hand as much. To just not be so annoying.
And that was killing you. Not literally, but it still felt like death itself since physical touch was your most prominent form of how you express your love. Since you never got the chance to actually experience what love was.
Luckily, Neuvillette wasn't the chief justice for shits and giggles. He notices things better than most, and ever since you entered his life - he notices everything. He knows when your mad, happy, sad...even when he is unsure of how to act or how he feels that his own emotions aren't reaching yours...he knows you.
And he only ever wants to know you. Only you. Since you were the one person that he allowed himself to become intimate with.
So knowing how you show you love, and knowing how much quieter you've become. He wasn't afraid to make the first step to show you that he doesn't want you to stop being who you are just because he doesn't understand how to properly describe his own feelings towards a human.
And you learn in that moment what its like to hug Neuvillette for the first time. The way he holds you so tenderly, so close that it makes your eyes widen, your lips slightly parted as they tremble.
Your life hasn't been easy, never has. At one point you've even thought that you wouldn't get to express love or get someone to express to you what it was like to be loved.
Yet even as a few tears fall and your arms raise up to trap Neuvillette against you, you understand that even though you didn't know what to expect in a relationship with Neuvillette that this was what you needed all along.
It was ok. He was here. And you were here too.
246 notes · View notes