#patch 1 drops and breaks the save
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beckiboos · 1 year ago
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Me when I start act 3
“Well I guess I better design my next character”
And this is why I have never finished the game
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garbinge · 3 months ago
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ONE IN A MILLION (1/?)
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Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader // Word Count: 2.1k Summary: When Rooster saves you from an awkward encounter by pretending to be your boyfriend, the two of you get to talking and find out you have a lot in common. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Fluff. Light Angst. Drinking. Fake Dating (for like 5 minutes). Mentions of parental death (both characters). No use of Y/N. A/N: Apparently this is the week of starting to write for new fandoms and new characters! I cannot get Bradley Rooster Bradshaw off my mind these days!
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“Hey babe, sorry I’m late, got caught up on base.” Suddenly there was an arm around your shoulder. Your face fell into a frown and you looked over at the man who was smiling at you through the fuzzy mustache on his upper lip. His face was slightly goofy with hope and you decided hell, what did you have to lose?
“You’d marry those F-18s if you could.” You wrapped your own arm around him and looked up at him, your eyes catching the Top Gun patch on his jacket and seeing the aviation patches on his uniform. 
His eyebrows raised and his face matched yours from earlier, he was trying to limit the shock that was showing through his smile but you clocked it immediately, a smirk growing on your own face now. 
“Didn’t know you had a girlfriend, Bradshaw.” The blond haired man who had been flirting with you before this whole interaction was taking a sip from his beer now, clearly nursing the wounds to his ego. 
“Yea, M’not like you, Hangman. I don’t need to tell the whole world I’m getting some.” 
At that comment you looked up at the man whose arm was around your shoulder and swiped your tongue across the inside of your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were meeting in the middle as your head fell a little to the side. 
The man you now knew as Hangman was laughing as he looked down shaking his head. “Think you kind of just did.” 
“What’s Hangman?” You turned your head to the man across from you, tucking your head more against the man you knew as Bradshaw’s chest. 
“Jake here loves to leave his men hangin’.” Bradshaw answered quickly, you felt his body tense and you could tell there was some history between these two. Now you weren’t sure if this was a case of someone coming to rescue you from a miserable attempt at flirting, or someone just trying to check the man’s ego for his own gain. You’d take either because either way, it did save you. 
“Surprised you haven’t told your girlfriend about me, Rooster. Although, I do get it, don’t want to look like a loser, I’ve got all his times beat, fastest aviator in our unit, best shooting record too. Why they call this kid Rooster, always waitin’ for the right moment.” 
“From my experience, a fast shooter isn’t always the best. I like a guy who waits for that right moment.” Your face moved back to the man you just met but were spending the last two minutes cuddled up next to. Bradshaw’s nostrils flared and he tucked a part of his bottom lip in his mouth as he bit his tongue from laughing out loud. Your eyes glued on each other practically having their own conversation while your voices said nothing. 
“Never got any complaints in that department before.” Hangman was dropping a couple bucks down for the new beer that was sitting on the bar for him. “But on that note, I’ll leave you two to catch up. Nice meeting you.” His face was completely different from when he originally approached you. That first impression was full of arrogance and a demeanor about him like he knew he was going to win you over. Now his tone was just as crass but like this whole interaction didn’t break a piece of his ego off indefinitely. 
The arm on your shoulder was loosening as the man moved to replace Hangman’s spot at the bar. “What’s your drink?” He was waving down the bartender. “I owe you a couple.” His eyes looked over at you as his elbows leaned over the bar. 
“I’m good with beer.” You sat down next to him, really intrigued to see where this was going to go. 
“Let me get two beers, Penny.” 
“Want these on Hangman’s tab, Bradley?” She was popping the caps off the bottles. You mentally took note of what you assumed to be the man's first name.
Bradley smirked and looked at you for a quick second before answering. “Yea, he owes us compensation.” He was grabbing the one beer and passing it to you. “Plus, that means I got you for at least a second one actually on me.” 
“That’s good, cause I got a lot of questions for you.” Grabbing the beer you took a big sip and followed it up with a question. “You came over to me, why?” 
Rooster smirked and looked down in the space between his arms and stared at the bar floor but his mind was flashing to the scene he saw when he entered the bar. 
“I was looking around for my friends when I saw your face, all twisted.” He lifted his head and brought his hand to circle around his face. “I went to see what you were looking at, curiosity, you know?” There he shrugged, a smirk playing at his mouth. “Saw Jake–Hangman.” He used the name you were familiar with. “Knew what was happening and decided to pull you out of it.” 
“Right moment.” You teased, not giving yourself a moment to smile because you were bringing the beer bottle back up to your mouth. 
“Somethin’ like that.” He finally plopped down on a bar stool now, curiously looking at you. “What other questions you got for me?” 
“You always tell the whole bar that you’re sleeping with a girl?” 
“No, that was a first for me. But Hangman definitely does.” 
Leaning in closer to him you whispered to him. “I don’t really care about Hangman, Rooster.” 
“Noted.” His mouth was open with a little shock at your statement but he wasn’t going to argue with that. “Next question.” 
“Rooster?” It was one word, but he knew what you were asking. 
“Jake’s not completely wrong, it comes from me waiting for that sweet moment, like a rooster waits for the sun to rise.” His face was as neutral as you’d seen it all night. And despite only knowing him for under an hour, you could tell he was holding something back. 
“But there’s something else.” You waited for him to answer you.
You could tell he was thinking about what to say, or maybe he was thinking about if he even wanted to tell you. But as you contemplated what it could be, his voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 
“My dad’s name was Goose.” 
He didn’t need to explain it further, you picked up on the name connection and you also picked up on his past tense use. 
With a nod you matched his neutral face. “Nice way to keep him with you.” 
“My turn for questions?” Rooster was changing the subject and while you were still a bit curious you understood why and didn’t post any arguments. But you did give him a hard time. 
“That’s a question in itself, isn’t?” Your lips curved as you said it and he let out a laugh, his head falling between his arms again. “You got me there.”
“Tell you what, I’ll let you ask me all the questions in the world, but I’m gonna need that second beer.” Flashing your empty bottle to him, he quickly made a verbal grunt in acknowledgement and then chugged the rest of his before flagging down Penny again for two more beers. This time on him. As he placed the cash on the table he handed you the beer and followed it up with a question. 
“Haven’t seen you around here before, what brings you to The Hard Deck?” He was clinking his glass bottle to yours after asking in a way to cheers you. 
Raising your drink back to him, you took a sip. “My family has a house near the beach. I come sometimes to get away when no ones here, but this time I’m visiting.” 
“Visiting someone special?” This was his way at trying to pry. 
“Yea, pretty special.” You frowned as you thought about who you were visiting. 
“They gonna be mad that I’m buying you drinks?” It was a teasing question but you knew he wanted the answer. 
“Probably.” That was all you were going to give him on that, filling the next seconds with a sip from your beer so he’d get the hint. 
“How’d you know about F-18s?” His hand raised to bring his own bottle to his mouth but then paused and lifted his index finger to point at you, “and my desire to marry them.” 
After letting out a chuckle, one where your shoulder lightly touched his, you turned slightly, but bringing your hand to his jacket. Your fingers gripped around his upper bicep, it didn’t escape you how strong he felt, the bicep under his jacket wasn’t even flexed and you could feel the curves of the muscles perfectly. Before getting carried away you lightened your grip and tapped on the Top Gun patch. “You pilots tend to wear your accomplishments on your sleeve.” Now your hand moved to pull his jacket back and your hand rested on his chest to the patches on his uniform. “And close to your heart.” 
“Doesn’t answer my question.” He spoke it in such a flirtatious way. 
But you pulled your hand back because the answer was anything but that. 
“My dad was a Top Gun Fighter Pilot.” 
Was. Rooster picked up on that immediately. “So you know a thing or two about Fighter Pilots.” 
“Maybe three.” You teased. “It was kind of all my life was growing up.” 
“I know that very well. I spent half my childhood in this bar I feel like.”  He pointed in the direction of the piano and you knew that while there were probably memories for him all over this bar, that piano held some important ones. 
“We’ve probably run into each other before. Maybe not here–my dad was sober, but around town.” 
“Nah, we never did.” His answer came quick, the shake of his head was firm in his believe in the statement as well. When he saw your face fill with question, he decided to enlighten you. “I’d remember meeting you. You got a face that one can’t forget–Wouldn’t wanna.” 
With that you felt your face go a little warm. Your head turned away from him, a reaction to feeling a little embarrassed by his statement even though it was a sweet one. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean–” 
“No, no. I just think that I agree with you, think I’d remember you, too.” 
“If you want my honest opinion, I think if I had met you, I’d have walked into this bar tonight the same exact way.” 
“Calling me your girlfriend and announcing to the whole bar that you’re sleeping with me?” You lips were closed when you smiled, holding in a laugh. 
“Yes.” His face went serious until he laughed with you. “Exactly.” 
You two kept talking for a few more minutes, and honestly, you could have sat here all night with him. This was the most entertaining but also enjoyable conversation you had in a while. 
“What was your dad’s call sign?” 
The smile just stayed plastered on your face for the entire conversation, this one not being any different. You loved talking about your Dad, your own way of honoring him, but not everyone understood the Top Gun nuances let alone appreciated them, but you knew Rooster would.
“Cujo.” You remembered everything that had his callsign on it, his helmet being one of them. “We had like a million dogs growing up, he kind of was a trainer in his free time, tamed a lot of aggressive dogs, people would bring their dogs to him and he’d send them back perfectly behaved.” 
“Million of ‘em huh?” 
“Exaggerating, we had 4. But in a house with 2 brothers and a million fighter pilots visiting all the time, it was just a lot.” 
“You like the millions, huh?” Rooster teased. 
“Well, I am one in a million.” 
You were still flirting, a brush of your own ego slipping out now but in a way that felt effortless and jokey. Rooster caught on immediately and smirked with a nod. “That you are.” Both your second beers were now finished, and he was going to buy you another but first he wanted to ask you one more question. “You never told me who the special person you’re visiting is.” He wasn’t stupid, the flirting might’ve just been fun and harmless to you, and he wanted to know for his own sake. 
“Oh!” Your head snapped to the door where you stood up and waved your arm. “He’s actually here right now.” Rooster’s head turned to follow your gaze when he saw Fanboy with a matched smile to yours and headed in your direction. 
“Fanboy?” Bradley was trying to wrap his head around what was happening, his head running through a million thoughts, but the next words out of your mouth were not what he was expecting. In fact, the odds of this were pretty one in a million. 
“Rooster, this is my brother, Mickey.”
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Part 2 Dividers by @cafekitsune ✧.* 🛫Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 (let me know if you’d like to be added! I'm using my all writing taglist right now!) CHAPTER INDEX <- where you can find previous chapters to this fic!
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blissfullsvn · 6 months ago
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zomnextdoor
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pairing. boynextdoor (ot6) x reader genre. zombie apocalypse!au, angst, fluff word count. 2.6k (0.4k–0.5k each) warnings. zombies (surprising), violence (towards the zombies + one depiction of bashing a zombie in the head), implied major character death (in 1 scenario). all scenario-specific warnings will be mentioned at the start. a/n. in light of bnd's 1st anniv, the new what?door! ep coming soon, & the sudden influx of 좀넥도 content on k-onedoor twt, i hereby present my brainrot to you. enjoy! (p.s. some scenarios are untagged bcs they're not rly fluff... but also not angst...) masterlist
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sungho
archer!sungho
sungho is at archery practice when he hears it; the screams around the school, so incredibly raw that he knows they’ll echo in his mind again and again, long after today.
he finds out the reason just a few moments later, far sooner than he can properly digest the disconcerting noises. seeing the glass doors crash and break into a million pieces is a sight, but the true sight comes a second later, when the cause of the destruction hurtles towards them.
and he freezes. it’s just for a beat, but a beat too long. he sees the exact movements of the rotten fingers reaching for him, so unmistakable it’s as if he’s viewing it in slow-motion, then something in him finally clicks. he instantly ducks down, which happens the same time he feels something tug at his wrist, but his scream doesn’t get to escape his throat when he hears yours.
“sungho sunbae!” you yell as you maneuver around the onslaught of rotting bodies. you’re dragging him towards the staircase leading to the second level of your practice area, because archers will always have the upper hand from longer distances. “what the hell are you doing?”
it’s an immediate reality check. he looks around, and it’s chaos; there are zombies flowing in from every exit, screams and shouts being heard from within and outside the room, and the distinct sound of arrows being shot. he looks back to you, who’s running in front of him and pulling him along to keep him safe. 
you’re right. what is he doing? everyone knows that as an archer, agility is one of the essentials, but he had nearly lost himself from a moment of hesitance. he feels even more embarrassed that you, who has always claimed to be his super fan, is saving his ass literally single-handedly by using the back of your bow to shove the zombies away because your other hand is wrapped around his wrist.
at the realisation, he grips his own bow tighter in his hands and promptly turns around despite your protests.
“take care of my back. i’ll handle this,” he says as he walks backwards, aiming his bow at the herd.
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riwoo
angst warning: implied major character death
riwoo prides himself in staying calm, even in the most extreme situations. but somehow, it shocks even himself that this statement still rings true in a national crisis.
when he hears screams so loud they burst through the music blasting in their dance practice, he doesn’t hide the raise of his eyebrows. however, he doesn’t mention anything, considering none of his members seem affected.
when the noise doesn’t cease, instead growing by the second, he raises a hand to signal a pause in their practice. one of the members runs to turn off the music, and the immediate juxtaposition that occurs is more than unsettling. with the room abruptly falling into pin-drop silence, the flood of screams rattling the walls is even more prominent. that’s when the dancers start to grow wary.
despite this, riwoo is calm. he’s confused, but not frantic. even when the doors of the practice room burst open and you stagger inside in terrified hurry, he’s calm. even when he notices the red patch of fabric on your arm that you’re clutching tightly, he’s calm. even when you’re trudging towards him with a weird gait, he’s calm. even when he's gesturing to the rest of the members to leave the room, knowing he’ll be left alone with you, he’s calm.
it’s weird, he thinks as he watches all of his members run for their lives before his eyes fall back to yours, noting the way the recognition in them is flickering. it’s weird how, instead of following his team, he’s reaching out to thumb at your tears, which only prompts more to flow down.
he thinks so again as he wraps his arms around you, tightening his hold like it’s the last time he’ll ever get to do this. with you in his arms, he can clearly feel the unusual twitches from your body, and yet he’s still calm.
when you cup riwoo’s face with shaky hands, scanning his face as if to engrave it in your memory, he only offers the warmest smile he can. he tries to do the same; to capture this moment to the fullest. so when he sees the exact moment your eyes turn unfamiliar, he lets go of himself as well.
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jaehyun
football player!jaehyun, fluff
if someone told jaehyun that within just a few minutes, he would receive a confession from his nine-month crush before his football match and immediately get thrown into a life or death situation, he’d laugh at them for saying nonsense.
but that’s exactly what happened.
“wait, did i hear that correctly?” jaehyun is bewildered, eyes nearly popping out of his sockets. “you… like me?”
you twiddle with your fingers and nod slowly. like this, you look even cuter than usual, and jaehyun is practically melting; it takes everything in him to not squeeze your cheeks. looking at his round eyes that are even rounder from the shock, you ask timidly, “are you going to reject me?”
“reject?!” it comes off louder than intended, but it shows just how much he’s in disbelief. “how could i ever reject you?” he lets out softly, directly reflecting the expression on his face.
the way you brighten up immediately is a sight to behold, one jaehyun would like to keep dear to himself forever. this moment is unfortunately cut short when he hears screams from the bleachers.
jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “what? have the others gone out already?” he peeks out of the locker rooms.
at first, he’s confused. there’s no one on the field, but the screams are increasing by the second. everyone in the audience is scurrying frantically, running and pushing past one another. despite his own apprehension, he senses your tenseness behind him and quickly cracks a joke to ease you first. “don’t tell me they’re this terrified of a mickey mouse?” he laughs, turning to look at you, but his face drops immediately.
you’re horrified. you’re watching the scene as if you’re seeing something from your nightmares come to life, and the look on your face makes him think that maybe you are. he feels himself grow antsy at your drastic reaction, and he understands why when he turns back to the field again.
if there’s one thing in the world he’s more terrified of than ghosts, it’s the possibility of an infectious virus outbreak that threatens humanity.
and he’s witnessing it happen right now.
for a football player, his legs are utterly useless now as he wobbles from his own weight. before he can drop to the ground fully, you’re already next to him and hoisting him up.
“jaehyun,” you call, and he’s surprised at the firmness of your tone, a complete contrast from the meekness before. “hold onto me tightly, okay?” you interlock your fingers together and take a step forward, standing in front of him. “we're gonna have to run.”
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taesan
fluff (?)
both you and taesan are aware of how terrible this could go.
you’re in the music room, surrounded by instruments of all sorts. in normal circumstances, these instruments would be as welcoming as a warm hug, offering the solace you needed after a long day. now, seeing them only makes uneasiness zap through your veins.
you don’t have time to ponder your decision again when you hear the inhuman noises you’ve unfortunately grown familiar with. after ensuring the doors are locked well, you stride to your makeshift stage by the windows, where taesan is standing by the keyboard. he nods at the window, where a rope is hanging from the highest floor down to the ground, and you mimic the gesture before slinging your bass over your shoulders.
your fingers immediately find their positions on the instrument from muscle memory, which puts a flash of a smile on your face. you look at taesan, who’s already looking at you, and he nods reassuringly.
he smiles, “shall we play for our biggest audience yet?”
for the briefest of moments, you hear a pin-drop silence that you haven’t been able to experience since the outbreak. you shut your eyes, taking it in. then, before you realise, the bass is echoing throughout the speakers.
you look at taesan as you play, both to help your nerves from the crowd that you know will be right outside anytime soon, and to live this moment to the fullest. after all, you’re not sure whether you’ll be able to ever do this again.
taesan shares the same sentiment, because he’s soon opening his mouth to yell out the lyrics of your go-to song, the one that’s been yours ever since you joined the band together.
you flicker your eyes over to the herd that has arrived outside the room, banging at the doors and windows as they try to enter. despite the situation, looking at taesan and the way he’s relishing the music puts a smile on your face, so much that even when you see cracks start to form in the doors, you don’t feel an overwhelming sense of despair.
when you notice that the doors are bending more under the weight, you and taesan share a nod; the cue for him to step away from the keyboard and climb onto the rope behind you. it’s the final part of the song, the bass solo, which is also nearing the final part of your plan.
the second you hit the last note, you unceremoniously swing the bass towards the door and jump into taesan’s arms, just in time for the doors to break down.
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leehan
taekwondo athlete!leehan warning: one depiction of bashing a zombie in the head
the peace of leehan’s nap gets shattered when he hears the thud of the door, immediately followed by irritating growls and a poorly muffled scream. he’s ready to ignore them until he hears the cart of balls being pulled away and crashing into something, presumably the zombie itself, which has not only pierced his eardrums but also unveiled his hiding place to sleep in the gym’s storage room.
he sighs. dropping the open book covering his face, he stands up and adjusts the lollipop in his mouth before placing his hands in his pockets. he walks towards the opposite corner of the room, where the source of the disturbance finally comes into view.
you’re cowering behind a stack of mats. despite the top of your head clearly peeking out, you don’t dare to look at anything beyond the faux shield. he merely spares one glance at you before he turns to the problem itself. then, he notes that it’s either the zombie has strength that’s off the charts, or you’re incredibly bad at pushing and aiming, because the cart is nowhere near the zombie and is by the wall instead. 
he shrugs off the observation when he sees the zombie staggering towards him, and he slowly takes a few steps back. then, in an action as swift as the wind, he twists his body in a semicircular motion and delivers a kick right to the zombie’s head, effectively bashing it onto the floor—all the while keeping his hands in his pockets and the lollipop dangling over his lips.
you’ve since looked up from your hiding spot, and there’s a newfound expression on your face. however, when you look back at the twitching body on the floor, the fear returns at once. 
leehan looks over to you, and in the most nonchalant tone, as if he hadn’t just casually roundhouse-kicked a zombie, he says, “don't lure them in here. they're so loud.”
you can only offer a shaky nod, and then he’s walking back to his original position. but when he sees you stand up and stumble towards the door, he halts in his steps and turns to face you completely.
“didn’t you hear what i said? you’ll lure them in if you open the door. just stay here.”
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woonhak
you’ve never had a proper interaction with woonhak, but from the bits of information you’ve unwillingly gathered due to his popularity, your impression of him isn’t the best. he’s loud, boisterous, and sometimes just rowdy; you can’t help but paint him as this immature kid in your head.
but your prejudice has been completely shattered today.
when the signs of a virus outbreak first appeared in your school, starting with your classmate who had entered the class with a ghostly pale complexion and nosebleed, all you knew was you had to run. and that’s all you’ve been doing for the past hour, burning your muscles and lungs without stopping to narrowly avoid the grasp of death.
until you found yourself tripping over a stack of tables, and your legs got trapped under all the tables that had toppled over you.
when you tried to pull your legs out, all it did was cause the tables to fall even more, making it harder for you to move at all. the noise had also attracted the zombies roaming endlessly, so when you saw silhouettes dashing towards the room after your futile attempts to get yourself up, you had already resigned yourself to your fate—the mangled jaws right before your eyes. you could only shut your eyes and brace yourself for the inevitable.
then you heard the groans from the herd in front of you, followed by the lessened weight on your legs and the crash of something across the room, and you immediately opened your eyes.
there, standing in front of you, is kim woonhak. he has a table in his hands, the flat surface facing him and the legs outwards, using it to hold back the herd before you with a wince.
you don’t know how, but he manages to hold the table with one hand while reaching out with his other to grab onto another table over your legs, hurling it across the room.
you watch him do this for a few moments, until it finally clicks that the noise is too loud. you search around the room frantically for something—anything—you could do to help, and your eyes soon land on a baseball bat a short distance away.
“woonhak,” you call.
“yeah?” he grimaces, struggling to use the table as a shield when the crowd seems to grow by the second.
“are you good with a baseball bat?” you ask, holding up the weapon.
he turns to you for a split second, seeing the bat before he faces the front again. he instantly catches what you’re insinuating, and his decision is a no-brainer.
“pass it,” he reaches out his hand without looking.
you’re surprised, but you don’t waste another second before giving it to him. almost immediately, he drops his makeshift shield, and what you see next completely repaints your image of him. by the time you’re able to get yourself out, he has already cleared half of them. it seems you’re constantly getting surprised today.
before he can pass out, you quickly tap on his shoulder and grab the bat from him without asking. “thanks a lot, woonhak. take a breather; i’ll take care of the rest.”
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a/n. half of this was easy to write, and half was hell. guess which one was which
fyi, i wrote this with them all being high school students in mind, but you don't have to imagine them like this! except for woonhak ofc
anw, don't ask me why i wrote riwoo's part like that bcs i hv no idea either. it just felt right. so enjoy... hopefully...
© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.
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imthebadguyyy · 23 days ago
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Iron Hearts
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With the same fire and charm that runs in the Stark bloodline, you’ve never been one to fade into the background.
pairing : steve rogers x reader fandom : mcu synopsis : As Tony Stark’s younger sister, you’ve always shared his brilliance and bold personality. Outgoing, witty, and never afraid to speak your mind, you’re just as comfortable stealing the spotlight as your brother is. But when Tony ropes you into joining the Avengers' operations after the Chitauri invasion, the last thing you expect is to clash with Captain America, Steve Rogers—a man so different from the fast-paced world you’re used to. Steve’s stoic, old-fashioned values collide with your free-spirited nature, sparking a connection that’s as electric as it is infuriating. As the Avengers face new threats, you and Steve find yourselves drawn together in unexpected ways, each challenge bringing you closer. The world is always in need of saving—but will the Iron legacy and a shielded heart leave room for something more?
EPISODE 1 : COLLIDE
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The low hum of machinery filled your private lab, a familiar and soothing backdrop to the glow of various monitors and the holographic interface suspended above your desk. You were in your element here—surrounded by sleek gadgets, circuits, and blueprints only you understood. The soft, sterile light of the fluorescent bulbs bathed everything in a cool hue, making the outside world feel distant, almost irrelevant. Your hands moved with practiced precision, making the final tweaks to your latest invention—something sleek, cutting-edge, and powerful. It was not for public eyes, least of all Tony’s. Let him bask in the glory of his Iron Man suits and his public heroism. You preferred working in the shadows, away from the spotlight. After all, the real power came from the things people didn’t see.
Just as you were about to run another test, FRIDAY’s calm, computerized voice broke the silence. “Incoming call—Tony Stark.”
You let out a small, exasperated sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Of course Tony would interrupt now, just when you were getting into the groove. Without breaking your stride, you gestured toward the nearest screen, signaling FRIDAY to patch the call through.
Tony’s face flickered to life on the screen, his usual cocky grin already plastered across his face. He looked annoyingly well-rested for someone who constantly threw himself into world-saving chaos.
“Hey, sis. Got a minute?” His tone was casual, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Tony always had an ulterior motive.
“Not for you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched with a slight smile. You’d perfected the art of giving Tony a hard time over the years. “What do you need, Tony?”
“Can’t a brother call to check on his favorite sibling?” He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “We both know I’m your only sibling.”
“Touché,” he admitted, chuckling softly. "But seriously, I need you."
You froze momentarily, your hand hovering over the interface. Tony rarely outright asked for help, and when he did, you knew it was big. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave him your full attention.
“I need my secret weapon,” Tony added, his voice dropping to that tone he used when he really wanted something.
You blinked at him, skeptical. “Secret weapon? Tony, I’m not about to be your backup tech support.”
Tony grinned, undeterred by your resistance. "This isn’t just tech support. It’s big. New team, new mission, bigger stakes. And who better to help me keep this bunch in line than you?"
You hesitated, glancing at the half-finished prototype on your desk. For years, you’d operated under the radar, happy to let Tony soak up the limelight. Being his sister came with a certain level of scrutiny you’d avoided like the plague. You preferred the quiet. The idea of stepping into the Avengers' world—especially now—seemed chaotic at best.
“I’m not suiting up, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you finally said, narrowing your eyes at him. The last thing you needed was to get dragged into one of his world-saving escapades in some shiny new armor.
“Of course not,” Tony grinned, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that told you he wasn’t ruling anything out entirely. “Just come to the Tower, meet the team. If you hate it, you can go back to hiding in your lab and pretending you’re not a genius like me.”
You rolled your eyes, though the thought lingered. A new team? A new mission? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. If things went south, you could always disappear back into the shadows. But something in Tony’s tone hinted at urgency, something serious brewing on the horizon. He wasn’t just calling for fun. He needed you.
With a resigned sigh, you pushed off from the desk. “Fine. But this better not be some ploy to get me into an Iron suit.”
Tony’s smirk widened. “No promises.”
The call ended with a flicker of the screen, and you were left standing in the soft hum of your lab, the weight of Tony’s request hanging in the air. You glanced at your half-finished prototype one last time before grabbing your jacket, muttering under your breath, “What have I gotten myself into?”
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Later, at Avengers Tower, you stepped into the grand lobby, the space sprawling before you like something out of a futuristic movie. Towering glass walls reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling effect that made the entire room shimmer. High-tech displays blinked with data and notifications, while sleek metallic accents added to the modernity. It was a world apart from your cozy lab, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how Tony had truly outdone himself with this place. The grandeur was impressive, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, a sense of unease settling in as you stepped further inside.
Just as you took another step, a voice sliced through the air behind you, cool and assessing. “So you’re the sister Tony doesn’t like to talk about.”
You turned to face him, your heart pounding slightly at the sight of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his muscular frame radiating authority. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was an edge to it—a mix of skepticism and something akin to wariness. He looked you up and down, his gaze critical, and you could already sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface. He thought you were just another Stark, another piece in Tony’s ego-driven game.
“And you’re the soldier out of time,” you replied, matching his coolness with your own. The words felt sharper than you intended, a defensive instinct kicking in. “Nice to meet you.”
Steve offered a tight nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t smile. “Tony’s told me a lot about you.”
“All bad, I hope,” you shot back, a hint of a smirk dancing on your lips. But Steve’s expression remained unyielding, the weight of his gaze unwavering.
“I’m not here to judge,” he stated, but his eyes bore into you, steady and measuring, as if he were trying to peel back layers of your identity with sheer will alone. “Just here to see if you’re serious.”
“Serious?” You scoffed, your heart racing with indignation. “About what?”
“About helping, about doing what’s right. We’ve got enough egos on this team.”
Your smirk faded, replaced by a flash of frustration. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know your brother.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not Tony,” you retorted, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension between you crackled in the air, palpable and thick. You hated the feeling of being judged before someone even bothered to know you, and clearly, Steve didn’t like the idea of another Stark stepping into the fold.
For a moment, silence engulfed you, and you could almost hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The intensity of Steve’s gaze felt like a spotlight, and you wondered if he could see through your facade, exposing the vulnerabilities you kept hidden. You could sense his protective instincts flaring, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, and somehow, you felt like an outsider even though you were family.
Just as the tension threatened to spiral further, Tony strolled into the room, an air of nonchalance enveloping him. “Hey, you two! Getting along already?” His grin was impossibly wide, brightening the atmosphere even as it made the air around you feel heavier with unresolved tension.
You shot Tony a glare that could’ve cut through steel. This was not the time for his usual bravado. Steve merely shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to contain a smile. “We’ll see,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on you, as if he were weighing the likelihood of your success in this new venture. Then, with a final, assessing glance, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, frustration simmering just below the surface.
“Great. This is off to a fantastic start,” you muttered under your breath, a mixture of annoyance and apprehension churning inside you. The day had barely begun, and already you could feel the weight of expectation bearing down on you. As the lobby buzzed with the energy of heroes and high-tech innovation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope, teetering between proving yourself and succumbing to the shadows that felt all too familiar.
With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, reminding yourself that you were here to help. No matter what Steve Rogers thought, you had your own strengths, your own path to carve in this world. You just had to figure out how to make them see that.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The air in the war room was thick with tension as Tony briefed you on the mission, his voice crisp and urgent. “So here’s the deal: leftover Chitauri tech has been activated by HYDRA operatives in the city. It’s supposed to be a routine clean-up mission, but we know better than to underestimate anything HYDRA gets their hands on.” His brow furrowed, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach knot.
You listened intently, nodding as he laid out the plan. But as he insisted you tag along—even if just to observe and assess—you felt a mix of excitement and dread. You weren’t officially part of the team, yet here you were, being dragged into the chaos by your brother’s unwavering belief in your abilities.
When you arrived at the scene, the streets were already in chaos. The sounds of sirens blared, drowning out the shouts of frantic civilians being evacuated. Smoke billowed into the air, curling around toppled cars and shattered glass. You felt a chill run down your spine as you surveyed the destruction.
Amid the chaos, Steve barked orders at the rest of the team, his authoritative voice cutting through the noise like a beacon of hope. You hung back, monitoring the situation from a mobile unit that Tony had rigged up for you—a lifeline of information in a storm of uncertainty.
“Stay behind the lines!” Steve called out to you over his shoulder, his tone firm as he and Natasha led the charge into the fray.
You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and determination bubbling inside you. "I know what I’m doing, Captain," you shot back, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The last thing you wanted was to be coddled like a helpless child.
Just as the fight erupted, the atmosphere shifted. A crackling energy surged through the air, and before you could process the threat, one of the HYDRA operatives unleashed a pulse from the Chitauri device. The wave of electricity shot toward you, a blinding flash of danger that sent adrenaline coursing through your veins.
In that split second, everything shifted. Time seemed to slow as you braced for impact, your instincts screaming at you to move, to do something—anything. But before you could react, Steve surged forward like a force of nature. He slammed his shield into the ground with a resounding thud, creating a barrier that absorbed the surge of energy before it could reach you.
You stumbled back, wide-eyed, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you like a tidal wave. Steve turned to you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. “I said stay behind,” he said, his voice clipped, but there was a hint of protectiveness that made your heart race.
“I had it under control,” you snapped back, though deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. You felt a surge of embarrassment rising within you, the remnants of the adrenaline making you defensive.
Steve didn’t argue further, but his gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to gauge the depths of your resolve. The moment stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, and you could sense a silent acknowledgment between you—this was new territory for both of you, a fragile thread connecting your destinies.
But as quickly as it had come, the moment shattered. With a final look that communicated both concern and determination, Steve charged back into the fray, his shield raised high as he fought against the chaos. You stood there, heart racing, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—frustration, admiration, and a flicker of fear for what lay ahead.
With a deep breath, you refocused on the task at hand. You weren’t going to let this moment define you. You had to prove to yourself, and to Steve, that you belonged here—among heroes and legends. The fight was just beginning, and you were ready to carve your place in it.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The mission concluded in a flurry of activity and relief, but the tension between you and Steve lingered in the air like an unresolved chord. Back at the Tower, you settled in front of the computer, the glow of the screen casting an almost ethereal light across your face as you replayed footage of the battle. Each frame brought back the chaos—the electricity crackling, the screams of civilians, and Steve’s shield slamming into the ground just in time to save you. The rush of adrenaline from earlier mixed with a more unsettling feeling as you examined the moment you almost lost everything.
As you scrolled through the footage, you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Steve; the weight of his gaze felt palpable, a steady warmth that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the battle you had just fought. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the soft light of the hallway, watching you with a quiet intensity.
“You handled yourself well out there,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere, cutting through the silence that surrounded you.
Surprised, you glanced up at him, momentarily meeting his gaze. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice a mix of pride and humility.
“But next time,” he continued, the firmness returning to his tone, “don’t make me have to save you.”
A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips, a spark of your trademark confidence flaring up in response. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t,” you shot back, your tone light, though beneath it was a current of seriousness.
Steve didn’t respond immediately, his expression shifting as he studied you. In his blue eyes, you caught a flicker of something deeper—perhaps a grudging respect, maybe even a hint of admiration. It made your heart flutter unexpectedly, a rush of warmth that was both thrilling and confusing. The Captain of America saw you, and for a moment, the weight of expectations from being Tony Stark's sister lifted, replaced by a connection that felt genuine.
He nodded once, a subtle acknowledgment of the moment shared between you, before turning to leave. As he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just another fleeting exchange. You were carving out your own space in this team, proving that you were more than just Tony’s sister—you were a force to be reckoned with in your own right.
Left alone in the dim light of the lab, you turned back to the screen, but your thoughts were no longer on the footage. Instead, your mind lingered on Steve’s quiet strength, his unwavering resolve. You were beginning to understand that there was more to him than just the Captain—the man behind the shield had his own battles, his own vulnerabilities.
And you felt an undeniable pull towards him, a sense of camaraderie that was slowly transforming into something deeper. The mission had ended, but the journey was just beginning, and you were more determined than ever to prove yourself—not just to Steve, but to the entire team.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
The mission had been a success, but the moment Steve saw you—Tony’s sister—standing there, he felt the weight of responsibility tugging at his heart. He knew you had potential; he’d seen you handle yourself with surprising skill, but he wasn’t prepared for how much the little spark in your eyes got under his skin.
Leaning against the doorway, he watched you replay the footage of the battle. You were focused, your brow furrowed in concentration, and it captivated him. You radiated a unique blend of confidence and determination, much like your brother, yet with a warmth that was distinctly your own.
When he finally spoke, telling you that you handled yourself well out there, he truly meant it. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a mix of admiration and wariness wash over him. You were Tony’s sister—his little sister. He recalled the stories Tony had told him about your childhood, the sibling rivalry, and how fiercely protective Tony had always been of you. That instinct felt like a wall between them, even as he felt drawn to you.
“Don’t make me have to save you,” he warned, hoping to impress upon you the importance of caution. He had seen too many people underestimate their enemies, and he didn’t want you to be another victim of that recklessness.
Your response—light and teasing—pulled a small smile from him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t.” It was infuriating how effortlessly you seemed to deflect his concern. You had a spark that reminded him of Tony, but there was something more disarming about you. Something that made it hard for him to maintain his composure.
He nodded, more to himself than to you, before he turned to leave. He didn’t want to admit how much your presence affected him, how he found you attractive in a way that made him question everything he knew about focusing on the mission. But he also understood that getting involved with Tony’s sister could complicate things—complicate his already tangled life.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
As the days turned into weeks, you became a more permanent fixture in the Tower, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic team dynamic. Watching you interact with the others was eye-opening. You had Tony’s quick wit, but there was a warmth in your approach that brought out the best in everyone.
He remembered a moment during a team meeting when Clint made a joke at your expense. Without missing a beat, you shot back, “If you’re going to insult me, at least make it clever.” The room erupted in laughter, and Steve found himself chuckling along, secretly impressed by your tenacity.
But the more time he spent with you, the more he struggled with his feelings. You were intelligent, fiercely capable, and incredibly brave—qualities he admired. Yet every time he looked at you, he felt the ghost of Tony’s protective nature hovering over them. He could practically hear Tony warning him to keep his distance, reminding him that you were off-limits. It was a mental tug-of-war, and every glance between them only heightened his awareness of how close they were getting.
One evening, you both worked late in the lab. He caught you watching him as he threw punches at a training dummy, a curious smile dancing on your lips. It was a moment of connection, but it also made his heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you were trouble, yet there was something about you that drew him in, like a moth to a flame.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n : so this is new series im experimenting with!! not proofread. any comments tips suggestions you have would be highly appreciated. happy reading!!
TAGS
all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove@bluesongbird-blog
marvel -
to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷
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tellmeallaboutit · 7 months ago
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knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)
Chapter 1, In Which You Install The Mod
FOREWORD: inspired by this post
SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?
TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation
RATING: explicit
AO3
***
You hesitated for a moment before downloading this “Devil Wears Nada” mod. It felt slightly inappropriate, absurd as it may sound. There was something disrespectful about making Raphael deliver his final monologue in the nude.
Well, you would have to live with offending a bunch of pixels because you do want these screenshots. You put the salt and vinegar Pringles out of the way and wiped your fingers on a napkin before committing this digital sin.
Clickity-click-click. You dragged-and-dropped the mod where you wanted it to be and launched Steam. Now to load the saved game where you made the deal with the devil and gave him the crown of Karsus… pretty much any saved game really. 
Raphael had been spared in each one of your playthroughs.
A sigh escaped you when the devil still appeared fully clothed in the game; had something gone wrong? You double-checked, only to realize that you'd forgotten to activate the mod - odd, since you clearly remembered doing so. Leaving the game, you dragged the mod back into place.
On your phone, in the Devil's Den discord chat, you informed everyone of Raphael's stubborn refusal to undress.
MAKE HIM! came the immediate reply, followed by STRIP THE OLD MAN, accompanied by raunchy gifs. Couldn't help but grin at that.
Back in the game, you loaded an earlier save file and sank into your chair to watch Raphael emerge from the flames, clothed once again. “You son of a…”, you muttered to yourself. It was getting late anyway; this would be your last attempt before calling it a day. Tomorrow is Tuesday and thus another work day. 
“It won’t be long before you come knocking at my door”, Raphael said, looking straight at you from the wide screen. This wall-breaking sequence was brilliantly executed—you had to admit it—very eerie.
Raphael let out a deep, hearty laugh, head thrown back, pearly teeth glistening in orange-red lighting. You didn’t see this animation before. They must have added it with the latest patch, so you moved in closer. 
Handsome as sin, this devil - if he asked for your soul, you’d hand it over on a silver platter.
Suddenly, he fell silent for several seconds, staring directly at you from across the digital divide. You reached for the mouse to check if there was a glitch in the cutscene when Raphael's voice sliced through the silence.
“You are quite eager to see me naked, aren’t you? Naughty little mouse,” Raphael taunted.
What the fuck?
WHAT THE FUCK!?
You recoiled in shock and slammed your laptop shut. A shriek must have escaped your lips, but you were too stunned to notice. It took a moment for your heart to settle and for you to remember what date it was today.
A quick glance over the watch on your wrist confirmed: it was the first of April. April first, two thousand and twenty-four. 
It was an April Fool's joke from the modders.
Oh, fuck. Having recovered from the initial shock, you cautiously opened your notebook, only to be greeted by the familiar "ta-ta" outro. Oh, fuck. This is some kind of really fucked-up prank. How did they get this voice line?
AI, probably. Not probably. Definitely. There was no way they could have involved Andrew Wincott.
You scanned the game screen for any other surprises, but found none. Picking up your phone, you opened Discord and began recording a long voice message - your fingers too clammy to type.
The replies came soon after.
Haha, this is so fucked up, did they really do this? Hm. I have to try it myself. RECORD IT, RECORD IT PLEASE!
You stared at the loading screen but couldn't bring yourself to replay it. Instead, you searched “Raphael naked mod April joke” and clicked on the first Reddit thread that popped up. You didn't even bother to open it; a quick glance at the preview comment – “crazy I almost had a heart attack” – was more than enough.
Enough for today.
You quickly brushed your teeth in the bathroom and changed into short pajamas before glancing at the laptop on the other side of the room, its camera eye peering at you from across the room. You closed the shutter.
“Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you”, you read somewhere.
You tucked yourself into bed, phone in hand, blanket between your legs. Was it time for a quick stroll through selected Raphael / Tav bookmarks?
No. Well, maybe. The threesome with Haarlep, just a quick re-read to help you fall asleep quicker. You were creeped out, but not that creeped out. You’ve heard of such meta jokes before. Black & White did it, Metal Gear Solid did it, too. 
But still… they really should tag this sort of stuff.
Your nightly reading was progressing nicely; things were getting interesting - “the ridges of his devil cock stroking your sensitive walls” interesting. Your hand slid into your underwear, working your finger past your hair down to your clit. This scene was very well written, you could almost feel it, picture yourself spread open between Haarlep and Raphael. 
The smut got better and better right until your phone vibrated in your hand, and you dropped it on the blanket.
Unknown caller ID.
Don't answer it, came the panicked, irrational thought as it grabbed you in a chokehold. 
You stared at the screen - the call went on and on - and pushed it aside. Swiped to the right in one quick motion and heard an automated female voice:
"This call is from Europol. We would like to inform you that your identity card number has been misused. For further information please press 1."
You hung up immediately, recognizing this as one of those scam calls that had been making rounds recently. Your mum had received one too. 
Nothing to lose sleep over.
You put the phone down and turned your back to it, trying to calm down. Screw the fanfic, you were not in the mood anymore. Well, you were, but…
Another time. 
It took some time before you could relax, your gaze fixed on the blank wall in front of you, re-playing that cutscene all over again in your head, occasionally wandering to the large window looking out over the courtyard (what a pitch black night). 
Eventually, you did. 
As you drifted off to sleep, a voice whispered in your dream:
“You are quite eager to see me naked, aren’t you? Naughty little mouse”.
The silky soft voice was so lovely; it made you feel less alone. A small smile crossed your lips as you slept.
Yes, Raphael. Very eager indeed. 
Tomorrow. You’ll try again tomorrow.
NEXT: Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger
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earlysunshines · 1 year ago
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gemini
detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader. (pt.1)
summary: jihyo should not be letting you into her apartment at 12 in the morning, and she should definitely be turning you in, but she doesn't.
wc: 1.3k
warnings: blood ; slightly suggestive ; proofread but not well
pt.2
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a/n: happy hyolo!
-
There’s a knock at the window and Jihyo nearly jumps out of her seat.
She turns to see the masked vigilante outside, waving. Jihyo groans at the sudden arrival but still opens the window. She stares at you, brows furrowed and jaw clenched,
“It’s twelve in the morning, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jihyo had asked, irritation in her voice. You had chuckled at her response and Jihyo couldn’t see your face, but she could tell that you were smirking.
“Miss me, detective? I couldn’t resist paying a visit.” You responded teasingly, letting yourself into the apartment and glancing around.
Jihyo should be turning you in, Jihyo should not be this calm. She should most definitely be wondering how the hell you know where she lives. Jihyo crosses her arms and raises a brow, her stern expression not faltering, 
“You know you just broke the law right? I could turn you in right now.” Jihyo threatens,
“But you won’t.” You mutter, and you’re right. You look at the way her expression softens, and how her jaw unclenches. 
You had saved Jihyo’s life not once, but twice. It changed her whole opinion of you and whatever vigilante activities you had been up to, she would be lying to herself if she thought you were a criminal – You had saved not only her life but many others as well.
“The chief would,” Jihyo responds.
“You’re not the chief though, detective. And I know you secretly like having me around.” You tease. Jihyo rolls her eyes playfully in response, her demeanor slowly breaking down.
“What do you want, Spiderwoman?” Jihyo groans.
The detective freezes as she notices the two drops of blood that fall on her wooden floor, the faint sound of the blood making contact with the floor is loud in the quiet hours of the night. She uncrosses her arms and concern replaces the annoyance that was once on her face, 
“What happened to you?” She asks, inching closer to look at the cut on your rib area, “Sit down.” She quickly orders, and all the suspicion and annoyance that was once present had turned into worry and concern. 
You don’t say a word as you sit down, wincing. You’re still a bit lightheaded from your injuries. 
Jihyo rushes around her apartment to find a first aid kit and quickly gets to work on your injuries. She also notices the cut in your shoulder, it reveals some of your skin and seems to have ruined your suit. 
Jihyo begins to clean your wounds, but your suit makes it difficult to clean them fully as some of the material gets in the way. You push Jihyo’s hands away from you lightly before ripping the suit, allowing a better view and access to the wound. You also lift your mask so that it only shows the bottom half of your face, you only do it to make it easier to breathe. Jihyo looks at you in surprise and her cheeks seem to flush a bit as she looks at the newly exposed skin before her, and the bottom half of your stupid face (it's only half of your face, but Jihyo is captivated by how beautiful your lips are, and the sharp edge of your jawline).
“Like what you see?” You tease. Jihyo looks at you, a stupid grin tugging at your lips.
Park Jihyo can do this, there is nothing she can’t do. Detective Park can patch this vigilante up and kick her out. It’s simple – so why is there a sudden attraction growing in her chest? Why do her cheeks feel so warm? 
“Oh shut up before I make you leave half patched up.” 
“Yes detective.” You respond playfully. 
Jihyo rolls her eyes and gets back to work, putting alcohol on the wounds. You wince and let out a low groan which should not be making Jihyo feel things, but it does. Her fingers make contact with your tense skin again and you flinch, throwing your head back whilst biting your lip, gripping the chair tightly. The mood of the room shifted, and it was almost too heated and intimate for Jihyo.
As you continue to make such noises, a jolt of desire courses through Jihyo’s veins. Your abs are visible from the tightness of your suit, and they seem to flex and relax with every hitched breath. Jihyo wonders how you’d look groaning with that mask off, how you'd look with that damn suit showing more of your skin. Jihyo clears her throat.
“Are you enjoying this?” You question with an annoying smirk on your lips, amused by the reactions you get from the detective. Jihyo’s blush deepens and the hue on her cheeks betrays the words that come out of her mouth,
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She manages to mutter, her attempt at authority sounds unconvincing even to her.
“You’re so cute, detective.” You sigh. you hold onto the chair once more as she purposely adds a drop of alcohol to your wound. You laugh through the pain, “I didn’t know you were into that.”
Park Jihyo can do this. Detective Park can overcome anything. She can get through your teasing and flirting, the way your gaze sits on her, the way your breath hitches, the way your teeth bite at your lips, the smile on your face, and the sounds you make – Jihyo can get through this.
Eventually, Jihyo finishes treating your wounds, her heart pounding in her chest. The sudden intimacy shared in the moment between the two of you had Jihyo both exhilarated and conflicted. She knew she shouldn't be involved with you, especially with the police force against your vigilantism – you were Spiderwoman after all. Even so, she had let you into her home and patched you up, Jihyo couldn't deny the trust and interest she had for you after you had saved her life twice. 
You stand up and wince a bit, looking at Jihyo with admiration and gratitude.
“You never told me what happened,” Jihyo speaks, worry in her tone. 
“Just a scuffle with some criminals, it could’ve been worse,” you say that as if it was normal. As if getting sliced in your side was comparable to stubbing your toe. Jihyo looks at you with a newfound softness in her eyes, your heart aches a little knowing that you worried her.
“Do people ever notice all these injuries?”
“What?”
“You're,” Jihyo pauses. She looks you up and down, “You’re a normal person like me. I know you must have people who look after you, there’s no way no one notices these injuries.”
“I hide them well.” You explain, shrugging your shoulders. 
Silence fills the air as Jihyo looks at you concerned, she wonders how you’re able to live such a dangerous lifestyle without anyone noticing, how you deal with such damage to your body and act like it's something like a small bruise.
“Did you choose to do this? Or is there someone that sends you to do all of this 'hero' stuff?” Jihyo asks. 
You shrug in response.
“I just don’t want people hurt,” You begin, “We’re really similar, detective. My motives are the same as yours.” You add.
Jihyo stays silent and you take that as your cue to leave, you smile at her once more and pull your mask back down. The detective watches you depart, turning and opening up her window to climb out of it. You disappear into the night and leave Jihyo alone in her apartment. A new warmth is in her chest, as well as a stronger interest in you, even if she doesn't know a single thing about you other than your desire to help others.
Jihyo cannot be attracted to you, but she'd be lying to herself if she were to say that she didn't find you so alluring.
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translatemunson · 6 months ago
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you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks • ttfd
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a blurb from the universe of the tortured firefighters department
| check the masterlist |
cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), some divergency from canon (it’s fanfic guys, so chill), proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)
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For the first time in fifteen minutes, you could finally reach for your coffee mug.
“Dispatch, this is 118 requesting more RAs for the scene,” and there it goes nothing. It was Evan Buckley on the other side of the comms. What happened with Chim or Hen asking for backup?
“Copy, 118. Units 126 and 163 are closer to the storage,” you replied, already jumping on channels to send the ambulances their way. “Will more units be necessary?”
“I believe those will be enough, Brains.” The nickname drop. Yeah, no way you were escaping that. “It’s nice to finally hear you on a call.”
“Can’t say the same, firefighter Buckley. Mind you, we are being recorded,” you brought your mug to your mouth, the steam long gone after a late night fire emergency on a delivery storage.
“Oh, don’t be a nerd now. Everyone is safe, I bet you can chat for a few minutes.”
“Should I remind you we both are paid to save lives, and not chit chat while the 9-1-1 line is packed?”
“Oh, is it? Then why are you still on this channel?”
Ok, he got you, he got you good. Back to drinking and finding some peace to face eight more hours on your shift.
“Still there, Brains?” You could definitely hear his smirk through the call.
“Mm-mmm,” you made a funny face for the cold coffee. “Just taking a break.”
“Right. Graveyard shift again?”
“Always, because it’s from my desk straight to class tomorrow morning.” You started typing again, checking all the information from the rescue. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“No, not exactly. Already packed the equipment and now I'm just waiting for the guys. Is Maddie working tonight?”
“No, she only takes the graveyard shift when Chim is off duty. But you should know that. Cut the small talk and go piss Eddie off, Buckley.”
“Only if you give me your number.”
And he goes for it, for the hundredth time that week.
“So you can piss me off on and off duty? I’ll pass,” your screen lit up with updates from the incident. “Guess I’m closing this channel now.”
“See you soon, Brains.”
“Don’t wait up, Buckley.”
You disconnected from the channel once you had confirmation both RAs were on scene and now it was only a matter of taking the patients to the closest hospital — information you already cleared with the drivers, and gave that usual Brains heads up to the hospital teams — and getting them patched up.
Graveyard shifts, most of the time, were easy to sail through. Another few more hours, instructions you had memorized in the back of your mind, weak coffee someone brewed because you were out of decaf, class notes to review and you would call it a night — or maybe a day, you were never sure.
The only thing different this time around was the fact that you had Buckley on the other side of the line. And when you checked your phone, closer to 2 AM, there was a message, from an unknown number, saying “Eddie told me to piss you off because he wants to sleep :)”. Also “It’s Buck.”
Of course you knew it already.
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author's note: hi, hello! i know i promised this blurb to come out yesterday, but got caught up with work stuff… BUT IT’S HERE NOW. it doesn’t spoil anything from the main timeline of the fic, it was more of a “i need to write something” moment and this is the result. don’t forget to check out the fic! see ya soon!!
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kikunai · 6 months ago
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Limbus Company Canto VI's insane foreshadowing, callbacks and details
(AKA really fucking good and consistent writing)
these are details that only make sense when you play canto 6 for the second time. spoilers alert.
.
.
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Mirror world shenanigans:
you can hear Heathcliff?'s pitch dropping slowly before the reveal (6-33/EP35)
T Corp residents carry timepieces as personal identification (6-03/EP4) but they do not have them, not even their chains. (6-18/EP19)
Dead Rabbit boss and Heathcliff have around the same height, which is very unusual as PM has diverse heights for different characters
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DR boss calls his gang "Mad Coney" at first (6-10/EP12) [though this may be a nickname]
in the conversation between DR boss and Heathcliff (6-10/EP12), the former has an uncanny deep understanding of his past.
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Faust:
<… Sometimes, Faust looks like she's pausing to look at something before speaking.> -- Dante (6-25/EP28)
Faust makes an indifferent noise when 1. Ishmael and Yi Sang observed that broken mirrors were heard when dead rabbit henchmen die (6-18/EP19); and 2. Heathcliff? mentioned he watches Hindley dies every time (6-33/EP35)
Lightning strikes:
"… A momentary musing reveals that a strike of levin brings about a sensation that is not unlike the joy of fireworks. It fills the dark and cold void of the night sky with its incandescent brilliance, even for a brief moment, before fading away into oblivion." "… Right. And in exchange, it loses everything it has, burning and leaving nothing but ash behind. What joy is there to be found?" -- Yi Sang and Heathcliff (6-07/EP8)
Each strike of lightning is a blessing… For it signifies that you have a place in her heart. -- Linton (6-36/EP40) The thunder of every lightning that struck the manor… was the sound of her breaking heart. With every heartbreak, the lightning strikes. The pain, the bereavement, the shock… are all manifest as lightning, then darkness. Thus, the lightning only indicates that the person in question was so important to her… -- Linton (6-37/EP41)
(before the funeral) "I was never once 'rich' in this manor. I wasn't even allowed to be content. Not even for a moment. And this manor. This manor never accepted me, not even for a—" (6-07/EP8)
"No… this isn't at all what I… I…" "Come back, Cathy. Please…" "Hear my voice just this once, Cathy!!!" -- Heathcliff (6-12/EP14)
"You were the first to leave her, yes… but I assure you, it was certainly for the better. Because she would have… left you first if you hadn't. Because she would have grown tired of you!" "Tired… of me…?" --Linton and Heathcliff (6-21/EP24)
Hindley dying (6-32/EP34)
Heathcliff distorting (6-34/EP37)
Linton dying (6-37/EP42)
Nelly defeated (6-46/EP50)
Heathcliff stabbing himself with the golden bough (6-47/EP51)
Heathcliff dismissed Catherine's feelings when conversing with Yi Sang. It was supposed to brighten Heathcliff's heart, to bring him joy, yet he believes it is nothing and leaves nothingness.
Colours:
Heathcliff mentioned he likes the colour black as "the colour you get when you dump an entire set of paint into a bucket [...] And that's exactly why I tolerate it. Keep throwing paint over paint over paint… and you get black" (6-05/EP6)
"Thus, I have journeyed to this world. To devour every one of those hours. So that you may be stained with the same despair that painted me…" -- Heathcliff? (6-34/EP36)
"Endless vortex of colours, mixing into a sludge. A splash of grey paint over the heart that once gleamed violet. A splash of bloody red paint. Splashes of faded colours. Again and again… until there was nothing but blackness. Unseen by all. Unnecessary to anyone. The colour of the pitch-black night -- The colour of the Backstreets." -- Heathcliff (6-46/EP50)
[ Not a single color remained in the silent Wuthering Heights once the tempest passed. All monochromatic, save for patches of color. ] (6-48/EP53)
[ Come back, Heath. To the manor where the last vestiges of its beauty remain in its violet flowers. ] (6-01/EP1)
Colours are a synecdoche of Wuthering Heights, their impact and their affluence. After Hindley, Linton and Catherine's death, all it remains was Heathcliff.
Nelly's lies, partial truths and betrayal:
Nelly wrote the invitation letter, with Catherine's remark. "Besides… all she said is that she'd be waiting. She never said she missed me or 'wanted' to see me." (6-04/EP5)
"Oh, pish posh! Ridiculous! I was a Butler in direct service of Miss Catherine. Young Master Linton could plead and beg all he wants, but I won't always be taking his side." -- Nelly (6-11/EP13). This however doesnt mean she wont be against the sinners ("This manor has never been on your side. Not even once." (6-45/EP45)).
Nelly offhandedly mentioned she removed all the mirrors in the estate (6-18/EP19) [before Linton moved in (6-36/EP40)], presumably to make Catherine curious about the capital M Mirror
she doesnt recall Catherine opening the letters (6-18/EP19) nor blaming Linton for burning them (6-23/EP26) [even he claimed to have burnt them, possibly to spite Heathcliff (6-21/EP23)] since she burnt them before Catherine can even see them
Heathers, or Heaths for short:
Catherine spent a fortune to give heath colours (6-08/EP9), though Heathcliff did not get the meaning at first("You're wrong. There was no particular love for these flowers. There was no room, no warmth in that heart to spare for mere flowers.")
Linton brought Catherine a golden flower. she remarked that it was for his own sake, only as if he truly loves her he would have brought a violet flower instead (6-18/EP19)
"Those flowers bloom in places like desolate moors or steep cliffsides, so they may appear more lonely than anything else in the world. [...] All other flowers lose their colours and fade as they wither away. But this flower… even as it withers and wilts... remains the same colour. So when you're gone, I will dry these flowers and decorate my room with them." "Uh… what, like make rings of them flowers? Don't say something so foolish. Why would I ever leave you?" -- Catherine and Heathcliff (6-46/EP50)
"Those Flowers... are called Heath. The loneliest flowers that take root and bloom in the wild moorlands, but they're also flowers that survive no matter what devastating tempest comes their way. They endure it all and wait" -- Heathcliff (6-48/EP53)
Catherine's self sacrifice:
"Because birds are meant to fly. Not to be killed like that. Yes. Birds do not belong in their cages; they are beings born to soar the skies. So I am going to empty this pillow of their feathers." (6-19/EP21)
"… will every Heathcliff in every world find happiness?" "Yes, he will. So… it's not too late. For the sake of every remaining Heathcliff in every world, please, invite us to your world beyond. So that we may kill you first and move on to the next, to kill the Catherine of a different world. Again, and again…" "Then, only then, can every Heathcliff reach his own heaven." -- Catherine and Every Catherine (6-47/EP51)
"I don't love every Heathcliff in every world." "I love you. As you are now." -- Catherine (6-48/in game cutscene)
[ But Heathcliff was no longer trapped in a living dream. Perhaps that is precisely why he could open the door to see a new, wider world. ] (6-48/EP53)
The rose from Le Petit Prince referenced by Demian (6-48/EP53 post credit)
Vergilius:
"I am no longer concerned that, in my desire to fulfill the conditions for every clause in my contract, the manager might be irreversibly… hurt. I would be left with nothing if such a thing were to happen." -- Vergilius (6-06/EP7)
read Leviathan please.
=================
"
"… Where do you suppose he is? Heathcliff." "Miss..." "He doesn't have anything left. I am everything he has…" -- Catherine and Nelly (6-12/EP14) "In a way, we’re all ‘deprived’… and that can change a lot of things. Maybe there are things that we can understand only when we’re left with nothing." -- Hong Lu (6-01/EP1)
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fanfiction-blep · 2 years ago
Note
Just watched Avatar 1 again Quaritch is sooooo fucking hot like damn
Can you maybe write something about human Quaritch (when you take request from of him in human form) how he fell in love with a scientist fem!so and him just being totally in love and love sick for her
Hope you had a good day ❤️
Honestly I am conflicted about human Quaritch. But here I go. Also I turned this super angsty and I’m not sorry. I might write more on this I just wanted to get something out for you guys I’m going though the backlog of requests. Have a good day anon!❤️
Human Miles Quaritch X Human Fem!Reader
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Warnings: fluff, pining, mentions of injuries. Angst.
I don’t see him being super lovey dovey as a human
However.
Let’s say your the “one” and he hates that he fell for you you were a science ‘nut’. And he would do anything for you.
He’s the “I’ll kill anyone that touches you” kinda guy.
He’s the kinda guy that sees a flower and brings it back to you cus he thinks you’ll make it look pretty.
He’s traditional in some sense. He believes in wooing a women. So he’ll leave you notes.
“Come see me after lights out” and you would. You would sneak out and talk and drink.
More thank once he had you sat on his knee and arm around your waist head turning to look at you once in a while. He would try and convince you to spend the night in his quarters.
His drunken confession would be that “I won’t be making love ta ya yet darlin’ I just wanna hold ya”
You weren’t a doctor. You weren’t trained in medical science. Yet every time he hit injured he turned up at the door of your lab or even your quarters.
Eyes sparking with joy when the door opens to show your angered form. “Again!” It wasn’t a question at this point. You almost think he was doing this on purpose. You just didn’t get why.
He would sit so still when you patched him up. Whether it was a graze or fill gash that required stitches. Even when you have to use a needle to pull the edges of the torn skin together, he doesn’t complain. He sits there legs spread eyes focused on you, a dangerous smirk on his lips. When you were done he would sit up throw you a wink and mumble “thanks sweetheart” walking away.
He would always find reasons to want to be around you. Picking things up when you drop them. Grabbing things when you can’t reach, almost acting as a shadow.
He asks you random questions. Basic stuff but if it isn’t obvious that he should know he will either radio you or find you somewhere.
“How many hours in a day on Pandora again? Never adjusted..” “36 colonel…” “thanks darlin’”
When you disappear into the mountains with Jake and the others he’s restless. He doesn’t like you being so far out of the way. Somewhere where he can’t protect you.
He will try and ask about you in subtle ways. In his replies to Jakes reports he will try to ask how the group as a whole are doing. “Is the group functioning to the east capacity” Jake maybe be a golden retriever boy but he isn’t dense. He will reply to all the important information and then pushing his luck he will add. “(Y/N) is fine”
When he fly’s out the drag you all back to hells gate and Lyle gets a little rough with you… he goes insane.
When his eyes meet yours he stiffens. You were standing behind grace. Arms folded over your chest and a obvious bruise on your cheek. He does his best to keep his composure but when you are all taken to your cell he stops you pulls you to one side.
He traps you between his arms, back flush against the wall. “Who hurt you” “Lyle” you bite back his expression scared you he looked like he was about to explode. “I’ll fucking kill him”
He kept you by him for the rest of the evening his hand resting on the base of your back. Something so subtle and gentle but you don’t know how to feel. You don’t know how you feel. And when Jake and the others break out, you run.
And it breaks his heart. You grab a mask and you bolt for the ship. Knowing he won’t shoot, knowing he will avoid trying to hit you. In hopes it will save your friends. He stands there. Staring at the spot where he lost sight of you.
And he wonders where he went wrong. He waits until it hits him. He never once said the words “I love you”
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newx-menfan · 2 months ago
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NYX #2 Review
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Spoilers!
Sadly this is a week late- life has been getting hectic and my subscriptions on Kindle never seem to work lol (I had originally meant to write up commentary on the podcast episode before issue two dropped and still haven’t finished it 😔)… but let’s dive in!
The issue starts with Laura monologuing as she takes down some random thug.
You’ve probably ALREADY saw the sample pages of this issue (especially if you follow my tumblr lol) but the girl Laura is trying to save doesn’t want to leave with her, saying they’re “friends” and that if Laura needs help too, she just needs to go “local” (Foreshadowing….Laura’s bad taste in men possibly strikes AGAIN 😂🤣)
We see Laura hanging out at some dilapidated place in East Harlem…(what happened to Logan’s old apartment that she shared with Gabby? Did they sell it during the Krakoa era…because Logan PROBABLY had locked in rent from like the 70’s…that was a horrible decision Laura…like do you know HOW hard it is to find non-brokered housing in NY anymore??!) 
Laura is thinking about Kiden (and in goth clothes again!) as she tracks down some mysterious figure (sadly not a green telekinetic!) in Bushwick (also shout out to one of my favorite spots in NY!)…
At an underground club, we’re introduced to Local. Local is…interesting (people weren’t wrong about the Gambit comparisons lol). Laura convinces him to get her a call with Local’s boss, Mr. Smiley…but Kamala randomly pops up with Anole and Sophie in tow!
Laura gets pissed as Kamala tried to talk about the “mysterious telekinetic” (Laura doesn’t want to talk about her previous secret EX Kamala!) and calls them “Kamala’s little friends” (DON’T be MEAN to ANOLE, Laura!); telling Kamala to stay out of it and not blow her cover….
Laura has fun committing crimes with Local; obviously reminded of her time with Kiden. (If Laura had a crush on any girl…it was PROBABLY Kiden guys lol)
Local’s last challenge before she can meet “Mr. Smiley” is stealing whatever is in Orchis’s Essex building; Laura challenges him that for everything she breaks, he has to tell her some truth.
It’s a kind of sweet and interesting moment, where readers get to see how easy it would be for Laura to slide into the old ways of “X-Force” or “NYX”…
Yet Prodigy drops reality on Laura- that this isn’t who she is anymore. You can’t live in the past.
Laura meets Mr. Smiley…who is really….you guessed it! (I totally didn’t lol!)…Mojo!
Laura gets beaten…BADLY…and retreats.
(Also we get one of the LOVELIEST panels EVER!) 
The issue ends with Laura realizing that she can’t do it alone- contacting Kamala and Sophie.
 Review:
I for one…kind of wish we had gotten a Laura solo issue this time around; I think it was needed and could have been akin to “Zuko Alone”, Logan’s “Patch” era, or X-Men # 182, where Rogue breaks into Shield…it’s been a while since writers really explored Laura’s psyche…
In some ways the weird pop up of Kamala drags the story a bit- this should have just been written as happening weeks before issue #1, in my opinion.
While I liked the ending…it somehow felt too soon a realization for Laura…I kind of wish they had played with the “loner” bit, dragged it on a little bit longer…
Another tiny critique- I really can’t stand Laura swearing. So many writers try to make it work…but it just doesn’t work. It just doesn’t really suit her, in my opinion. (Stop trying to make “fetch” happen lol)
Still, I think this issue is really solid. Laura is really nicely written and it’s probably the closest we’ve come to Kyle levels in a while.
Laura realizing “you can’t go back”….is something that’s really great to play with. It’s something everyone struggles with, when the “good times” pass. Laura can’t move on from her past…yet she can’t go back to it either. She can’t be the person she was.
Local also definitely plays into Laura’s nostalgia of Liu era adventuring with Gambit as well as Kiden… it makes sense why she would gravitate to him.
I actually like the addition of Local and hope he ends up being a regular (much better than Catwoman’s recent terrible love interest!) 
The Prodigy ending was a sucker punch and REALLY wonderfully done! Using David, an old NYM connection as a source of guilt (and David ALWAYS was the voice of reason!) was really excellent; even if there wasn’t much interaction between the two in the original NXM. The only thing that COULD have made it better…was if it had been Dust, Mercury, or Elixir…but that’s a nit pick.
NXM was the turning point for Laura, so it makes sense that someone from THAT time would “wake her up” a bit….
Overall, I would say it’s definitely a solid issue…I think there’s minor things they could have changed, but it’s still a better “Laura” than we have seen in a while.
Theories:
Mojo is totally going to use Local to get to Laura…
Krakellion’s mission is deeper than making NYC the next Krakoa; they’re actively fighting against Mojo…
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oatmilk-vampire · 1 year ago
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Life Worth Missing || Eddie Munson x Reader
Eddie Munson x gn!ex!Reader
Part 2 of Off My Mind (Read part 1 here)
Summary: Reader goes after Eddie, not willing to let things end without everything being said.
Mostly Reader POV.
Inspired by another song I like Life Worth Missing by Car Seat Headrest. Give it a listen!
Word count: 2k of angst, whump, and happy ending.
TW: Coping with suicide attempt, talking feelings. No actual death.
~~~
Only when you got to your car did you finally let the tears fall.
All of those months of crying because you missed him was nothing compared to finally realizing you lost him.
He hadn’t even had the decency to break the news to you sober, like you had. Neither one of you ever had a problem with substance abuse but you had given up alcohol and the occasional smoke sesh as soon as you and Eddie went on your break. Drinking when you were sad and lonely was never a good idea, and weed held the same sentiment for you. Plus you would never dare to get it from anyone else, it felt like a betrayal.
But here you are, hiding away in the relative safety of your car in the Hideaway’s parking lot as Eddie drinks. To forget you? You’d think yes, if it wasn’t clear that he already had.
You wonder what she’s like, his new lover. If she makes him laugh so hard his whole face crinkles up. If she holds him when he’s had a bad day, smoothing a hand over his scars that you helped patch up as fresh injuries.
You wonder if she’s waiting for him at the trailer you once occupied.
Before you can make yourself leave you finally notice your now-ex pushing open the door, wobbling and swaying as he fumbles with the keys to his van.
You should let him go. You should accept it’s over between you two; he already had.
But you can’t. Instead when he pulls out you quickly turn your car on to follow.
You convince yourself it’s to make sure he makes it home safe, then you’ll leave him and his new lover alone. But as he turns into Forest Hills Trailer Park you still follow, albeit at a slower pace so as not to alert him to your presence. He pulls into his driveway and goes inside. No one comes rushing out to him as you had expected, but he still rushed in nonetheless.
You have a moment of hesitation before pulling in behind him and turning off your car. You wait in bated breath for him to come out angry and ask you to leave, but he doesn’t. You notice Wayne isn’t home either. If you’re going to make one final attempt at saving your relationship this was it.
As if on cue someone in the park lit a firework, bringing you back to reality. That’s right. It’s New Year’s Eve. How could you ever forget? Some part of you remembered when you asked him to meet, hoped it would end with a kiss between you two. A new beginning, not an end.
You run fast to get to him, suddenly feeling like it’s a life or death situation even if you had no reason to believe so. You just sensed it.
You throw open his door, grateful he forgot to lock it but fearful or what that entails.
“Eddie?” You call out to him, not wanting to startle him. But the lack of response spurs you on until you come across the bathroom, door open.
“Eddie!” You scream in horror, racing forward to rip the toaster out of the wall and out of his reach. You throw it behind you, not even flinching at the way it smashes into a bunch of pieces as you direct your fearful eyes at the man you love.
“Angel?” His voice is broken and eyes wild and wide.
“Oh, Eddie. Why? Why?” You crowd around him not caring if there’s a new girlfriend involved. She would be here if she really cared about him.
You drop to your knees and pull his cold freezing frame toward you, wrapping your arms around him tight as if your hold alone could stop him from leaving you in the worst way possible.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here. You’ll get hypothermia.” You pull him up with all your might, and he helps. If he hadn’t there’s no way you’d be able to lift him. He could almost laugh. Here he was about to electrocute himself and you’re worried about him getting hypothermia.
You grab two towels on the way out, wrapping them both around him, ignoring how badly your own body is shaking. You guide him to his bedroom and leave him standing in the middle of the room as you dig through his clothes in search of the warmest sweatpants and sweatshirts. You gather him fresh underwear and socks, the thickest long sleeve he owned.
He watches in disbelief. You’re here. You’re actually here. His Angel.
Maybe he died. Maybe he didn’t feel a thing and he’s in Heaven now. Now that’d be absurd. What’s more crazy? You coming back or him going to Heaven after all this? At this moment he decides he doesn’t care. You’re here and that’s all that matters.
“Let’s get these off of you.” You wait for his approval, just a slight nod of his head before moving with a purpose. You push off his jacket, unbutton his flannel, unbuckle his belt and slip off his jeans. It’s all much more difficult than it used to be thanks to the soaked state of it all, but you don’t complain one bit.
Once he’s fully naked you dress him in the same sentiment. Careful hands avoiding lingering too long but unafraid to touch all the same.
He’s sitting on his bed by the time he realizes you’ve brought out the hair dryer you gifted him a year ago. He hadn’t dared to use it since you left. The memories attached to it hurt him too bad, so he left his hair in the same state you had met him in. The days of having perfectly diffused hair were long behind him.
He notices the clip on diffuser attachment isn’t on it, you must have removed it.
You put it on the highest heat setting before letting the heat roll over him as you dried and warmed him further.
When you’re happy with the state of his dry hair and his contented sighs, you switch off the hair dryer.
You would have slipped it under his shirt for more warmth, but you really needed to talk to him and you couldn’t do that over the loud motor.
You sit beside him, tired of standing. “Eddie, we need to talk. We can’t leave things like this.”
You didn’t want to leave at all, but if there was someone else in his life you knew you had to.
“What’s there to talk about?” His voice is sobered up but you suppose a near death experience and icy tub will do that to you. Hell, you’re still freezing.
“You know we need to.” You insist. “You know we didn’t mean to end things back then. I didn’t want to end things. It was only a break, Eddie. Time we needed apart, so we could handle our own problems without taking it out one one another.”
“Angel, I–”
You cut him off. “But I understand. I do. Just because I waited for you didn’t mean you had to wait for me. I’m sorry we didn’t talk this over sooner. I’m sorry I found you like this, I’m so sorry. But I won’t apologize for ruining your plans.”
You rest a hand on his shoulder, it’s still too cool for comfort but you find some anyway.
“Where is she? What’s her number? I’ll call her and I’ll leave you be.”
He’s so lost in your words he doesn’t remember his earlier drunken lie.
“Where’s who?”
“Your new lover.” You remind him, and his heart drops into his stomach.
“Angel, there is no lover. I don’t know why I said that. I was drunk and stupid and I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.” His dark eyes are boring into yours, glossed over with fresh tears yet to fall.
“You’re not just saying that?” There it was again. Hope.
He shakes his head. “I promise you it’s the truth. I could never move on from you, I tried, not with anyone!” he adds on, “But by myself and I just couldn’t. I was so stuck on hoping you’d walk through that door that I just pushed you away the first chance I actually had at making things right with you. I’m. So. Sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.” You apologize as he pulls you in like he wanted to earlier at the bar, like you did when you descended upon him like the guardian angel you actually were. He’s been so wrong.
“Jesus H. Christ.” He shudders and pulls away from you.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re freezing, Angel. Let me get you into some warmer clothes too. Why didn’t you change out of yours? I made them all wet.”
“I wasn’t worried about me.” You answer simply as he runs to his closet just as you had minutes ago.
He helps you change, eyes lingering on your face the entire time. You feel flushed under his gaze but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You were here. With him. You were both alive.
“Eddie,” Your voice gets caught in your throat as you finally lose control over your emotions. You can’t be strong for him anymore.
“Yes, Angel?”
“You tried to kill yourself.” A sob rips from your throat as you finally break down into his arms.
“I’m so sorry.” He’s crying too now, you’re both shaking.
“Why are you apologizing? I’m sorry. I’m sorry you felt like it was your only option. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.” You cry into his chest until he pulls you away and places both hands on either side of your face so you’re forced to look at him.
“Angel. Baby, this was not your fault. Please never blame yourself for my stupid decisions. Since you left I hated myself for letting you go. Even though you said it was only a break and it was for good, I somehow convinced myself you were leaving for good. I didn’t blame you for it. I couldn’t blame you for it. If you ever left me, if you leave me, it’s entirely my fault.”
He pauses to kiss your forehead.
“Today I let all those bad thoughts get to me. Instead of being happy to see you I punished myself more. I hurt you. I lied to you. I felt like I was coming up short in a life worth nothing, and I took that out on you instead of being truthful. I thought I was worth nothing. That I wouldn’t even be worth missing. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
You brush a stray curl from his face with a shaky hand.
“Eddie, your life is worth missing.”
“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry I ever didn’t believe that. Please forgive me for all of my mistakes.”
“Only if you forgive me too.”
“Even if I don’t think you did anything wrong?”
“Especially then. If nothing else please just understand I’m sorry for not getting here sooner.”
He smiles at you, a genuine smile. A smile you haven’t seen in so long it physically hurts to see it again.
“You got here and that’s all that matters.”
You stare into each other’s eyes and hold onto one another.
The both of you think about kissing but are both worried about making the first move. Until the clock chimes, startling the two of you before realizing what that meant.
Midnight. It’s New Year’s.
Now you kissed.
It was soft and sweet and passionate all the same. Everything you didn’t get to say, all of the feelings you both kept bottled up over these six months was felt through the kiss.
When you pulled away to breathe Eddie had a grin on his face and you knew you had one to match.
“Happy New Year, Angel. I love you.”
“Happy New Year. I love you too.”
Everything was so much better than before.
~~~
Tag list: @ali-r3n 🩵
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husbandhannie · 2 years ago
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warm towel
pairing: jeonghan x reader
genre: fluff
word count: 785
warnings: reader has breasts, reader has history of pain
a/n: this is peak self-indulgent writing, me thinks.
taglist: @itsveronicaxxx @leejungchans @junhui-recs @changmin-wrlds.
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the sound of the shower running greets jeonghan as he enters through the bedroom door, a frown gracing his brows as he tries to figure out why you’re taking a shower, again. 
there’s nothing wrong with showering twice a day – jeonghan does it most days he has practice, but it’s not something you enjoy in any measure. you consider showers to be a chore, an activity to be done once a day for the sake of hygiene, unless there’s an exceptional situation. exceptional situations include: 1) getting unusually dirty (like the time mingyu accidentally got coke all over your clothes, and the guy almost groveled in apology), 2) your muscles (generally shoulders and back) are sore, and you’re hoping the warm water soothes the pain. 
since he can see your discarded clothes outside the bathroom –  and they look clean – jeonghan figures it’s not the first option. his mind immediately seeks out the reasons why you’re in pain, and comes up empty. 
since you started taking regular vitamin supplements and following a light physiotherapy schedule, your shoulders and back have given you very little trouble, especially compared to before. jeonghan remembers the times your body would frequently sport pain patches, and how you practically slept next to a hot water bottle. now, the only times you’re in pain are when you’re working harder than you’re supposed to, or you’re so stressed about work that you forget to maintain a proper posture and take regular breaks. 
he can’t think of why that would be the case, though. while your workload from university isn’t light by any measure, you like your courses and your teammates, and your projects aren’t too hectic –  or is he just not aware of how bad it’s been? 
(yes, jeonghan is perfectly aware that this level of analysis into why you’re taking an extra shower is a little disconcerting, and maybe even a little creepy. for all the jokes he makes at seungcheol about how protective his friend his about his partner, jeonghan can’t claim that he’s any less so – just that it manifests differently. he’s long prided himself on knowing (and he means really knowing) the people around him, especially the ones he cares about – and that instinct has only gone into overdrive with you. to him, the better he knows you, the easier he can make your life. and if he could, he would save you from all of life’s hardships, to never have to see you frown again.)
the bathroom door opens and your towel-clad figure emerges, unsurprised at jeonghan’s presence in your room (ofcourse you’re not surprised – jeonghan told you he’d be back in a few minutes after getting dinner). he should just ask you, he knows. there are many people around jeonghan who walk around truthful answers when he asks them about their well-being. you are not one of them. 
it’s a quality jeonghan greatly appreciates. saves him a lot of thinking. 
“everything okay?”, he breaks the silence, watching as you drop the towel on the bed and put on underwear, “you showered this morning already”.
“oh, yeah”, you look up and smile, and jeonghan can’t help but feel endeared by the sheepish look on your face, “i wore the wrong size bra this morning. it was hurting a little”.
ah. your size had increased recently and you bought a new set of the garment, adding it to the pile of bras in your closet. i told you so, jeonghan holds himself back from saying, remembering how he had tried to convince you to throw out the outdated ones. he’ll try to convince you again tomorrow. 
“how bad does it hurt?”, he asks, focusing back on the situation at hand. 
“better than it was before, i think”, you reply, done pulling on the rest of your clothes, “still hurts, but it’ll probably be gone by the morning”.
jeonghan hums in response, picking your discarded clothes and tossing them in the hamper before you get the chance, smiling in amusement when you look at him with narrowed eyes. you don’t like accepting help, even when it’s inconsequential. 
doesn’t stop him from trying. 
“i know you told me to throw them away”, you say suddenly, the sheepish look back on your face as you rest your cheek on his shoulder, “i should’ve listened to you”.
“doesn’t matter now”, he responds, one arm wrapping around your shoulders, a soft kiss brushing on your head, “dinner, yeah? then i’ll get you a warm towel”.
you nod slightly, trudging out the bedroom door and murmuring a sounds good. jeonghan almost hoots in victory.
you don’t like accepting help, but maybe with enough tries and some gentle coaxing, jeonghan can get you to.
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lifeiszestyy · 3 months ago
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*i guess i'm gonna start a thread of my d&d adventures like one of the nerds. we continued our campaign that we started in january 2023 (i suffered a burnout that was incredibly severe and was AWOL for a very long time)
*but here are our adventures of our unnamed trio!
*sessions 1-3
*session 1:
*our story begins with a cute amnesiac nonbinary boy named kade being dropped off in a port town. a grumpy middle-aged kobold named hardtack approaches kade assuming that kade is a guy who needs a bodyguard and offers one of the members of his kobold tribe to accompany kade. kade is perplexed, so the hardtack explains that this young (adolescent?) kobold named jammy dodger is believed to have a special destiny because of the rare coloration of his scales. they decided he needed to go on an adventure and grow up.
*kade accepts this offer since he's on a mission by himself and is very weak. kade and jammy leave town followed by a mysterious tabaxi. when the duo get lost, the tabaxi reveals herself to be a young woman named vale who offers to help them. both kade and jammy are very friendly and accept the offer very easily. kade explains that he's investigating a nearby labyrinth. when the approach the labyrinth, they run into bandits, but the bandit leader, don crunchem, falls for kade's charms (???) and allows them to enter.
*the trio have an extremely difficult time fighting skeletons, and kade gets hurt so badly that he becomes overtaken with negative emotion. he's wearing an eye patch but his visible eye shifts yellow, and he becomes extra snarky. the trio helps recover a petrified explorer named erik labhrann who had been trapped in the ruins for decades. in the final chamber of the labyrinth, the fight a ghost which kade oneshots with a sacred flame. when they go to under the curse on the labyrinth, everyone sees a strange memory of a basket floating in the ocean with a baby inside. kade passes out as his warlock patron appears
*session 2
*kade's patron introduces herself as the nightingale. she explains to vale and jammy that there are forces at work in the world--a cursed mist has appeared in certain places, and everyone within the mist has been forgotten. she was in contact with someone who asked her to save kade, but even a being like her has forgotten kade's home and the people there. she asks vale and jammy to take care of kade and threatens them before leaving
*when kade wakes up, they go to exit the labyrinth and run into two travelers from an adventuring guild known as the more the merrier. the leader, maximillian morberg, recognizes kade. he asks to meet up at the inn in town later since he wishes to explore the labyrinth. erik decides to go back into the labyrinth. outside the labyrinth, the kobolds have tied of the bandits and are taking them back to town. they were worried for jammy but won't admit it.
*back in town, the trio have a long conversation about who they are and what their goals are. kade has amnesia and wants to find out how to uncurse his homeland. vale is trying to search for information but has been wandering aimlessly and needs help navigating cities. jammy is just excited to go on an adventure.
*the next day, the trio meets with max who explains that he was kade's senior at an academy. he doesn't remember much about kade, but he's aware of the cursed mist and gives kade a map of where the other labyrinths are. the trio does a bit of shopping but are suddenly informed that one of the kobolds was kidnapped!
*session 3
*the messenger tells the trio that some bandits went to break the other bandits out of prison but were beat up by the kobolds, so they just took one of the kobolds instead. another kobold went to follow the bandits to their hideout. the trio easily follows the tracks to a large tree house past the labyrinth and find one of jammy's friends who gives them information. as they make plans, the kobold decides to leave to get the other kobolds to attack the bandits
*while trying to get a lay of the land, jammy gets too excited and blows a horn that makes a large farting noise. one of the bandit guards runs to the outhouse and is never seen again (he shat himself to death because i rolled a 1 for him). the other guard finds the group hiding, but jammy jumps from beneath kade's cloak and oneshot kills the guard with his quarterstaff
*the trio decides to take initiative and end up releasing the bandits' horses. in the chaos, they attempt to sneak into the treehouse from a back ladder but are immediately spotted by a group of bandits that didn't leave the hideout. they get a bit hurt but win. after dealing with a bandit in the watchtower, the rescue the kidnapped kobold who was locked in a small room.
*the bandit co-leader, duke crunchem, appears with a couple of bandits and two mysterious people in bright red robes. like his brother, he falls immediately for kade's charms (nat 20 baybee), but a voice from inside the hideout tells him to chase after the horses. when duke and the bandits leave, a mysterious priestess in red robes with a high collar appears and tells them that she's going to leave since the bandits failed her. the trio doesn't want to fight her, so she teleports away with her acolytes.
*the trio goes to help the kobolds fight the bandit leader. the other bandits are unconscious and some of the kobolds are hurt. kade tries to persuade duke who seems to be having a deep internal struggle, and vale knocks him unconscious. while the kobolds clean up, the trio goes to investigate the bandits' treehouse and find some loot. jammy says his farewells to his tribe for like the third time before the trio decides they must continue traveling
*onto the next!!
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harlequinchaos · 1 year ago
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Tears of the Kingdom Duplication Glitches:
⚠️⚠️PATCHED AS OF VERSION 1.1.2 ⚠️⚠️
Duplicating Materials (Extremely Easy)
1. Jump off a ledge and paraglide.
2. Pause the game, in the Materials screen, select the items you want to duplicate and 'hold' them (they do not all have to be the same thing).
3. Press 'Y' and 'B' at the same time. You should see the items drop on the ground, but notice your item count did not deplete.
This works on almost everything in the materials tab, creatures will attempt to escape, you'll have to chase them. Bugs will just fly away, and eggs will break, there might be other weird interactions with items I haven't seen yet. NOTE: YOU CAN ONLY HAVE 20 DROPPED ITEMS ON THE GROUND AT ONE TIME BEFORE ITEMS START DESPAWNING.
I recommend doing this on Diamonds (highest selling material) and whatever your highest fuse attack power items are (Silver Lynel Saber Horn being the highest attack) Large Zonaite (and regular too but that's really tedious) is another good option to expand your energy cells. Any Hearty or Stamina increasing item item works too for cooking meals and expanding hearts/stamina in a pinch.
Duplicating Weapons (Including Bows and Sheilds)
1. Equip the desired weapon/bow/sheild.
2. Return to gameplay (basically you want to see Link equip the item ingame).
3. Pause and save your game (yes this is necessary).
4. Drop the equipped item from the menu.
5. Equip any other weapon/bow/sheild (if you want to duplicate a weapon, equip any other weapon, bow for bow, sheild for sheild)
6. Press '+' followed by '+' VERY QUICKLY. You should not be able to see the first item drop when you go back to the menu.
7. Drop the second item you equipped
8. Load the save from step 3. You should see the item you wanted to duplicate on the ground, while still having it in your inventory.
This works on every item you can drop. To speed up the process, you can fuse 2 items together and break them apart without destroying the fused material for 20 rupees in Tarrey Town. I recommend doing this to the Hylian Sheild.
⚠️ Use these at your own risk. I did not come up with these, but they're being passed around online, I just wanted to write them out here. I have gotten them both to work multiple times, the weapon one IS harder to do, remember to save, it is a necessary step, if you mess up start from the beginning.
Don't give me shit for ChEaTiNg I'm VERY liberal with the block button. Good Luck!!
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fountainpenguin · 1 year ago
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"How do you know which memories to save? Like the very last footprint that Orpheus made?"
---
New Dog's Life chapter today!
Chapter 6 - “Charred (Lizzie)”
Read on AO3
Start from Chapter 1
---
Down in the lush cave, the Spelunkers - Lizzie, Mumbo, and Martyn - have a catastrophic run-in with Cleo and Jimmy... but not nearly as catastrophic as what happened to Joel last chapter. After play time is over, Scott entrusts Lizzie with something she's never held before... her husband's player file. Her mission? Bring it to Etho's apartment so he can start patching the damage in Joel's code.
Ft. fun dialogue such as:
“TIME OUT! I haven’t put my crocs in speed mode!”
“I literally eat people.”
“I miss… ostriches.”
(First 1,000 words under the cut)
---
LDShadowLady - Zombie
Quarry: SolidarityGaming
Hunter: Unknown
💚  💛  ❤️
The Life series is a stage, the creeper on the cave ledge below is an audience member, and Martyn InTheLittleWood is a theatrical man. Lizzie knows that, Mumbo knows that, and maybe that's why they both lunge forward to grab him by the arms before he can fling himself off a cliff. The last mob he killed was a skeleton, so touching him feels like touching a bundle of branches in a shroud. He shakes them both off anyway, protesting and promising not to do anything stupid. Martyn's idea of something stupid, Lizzie very quickly discovers after that, has far narrower parameters than she would have guessed.
"Lizzie! Lizzie, Mumbo. Watch this."
"Oh dear," Mumbo says weakly, rubbing behind his neck. Lizzie grimaces, holding one hand to the sword at her hip. She probably makes a goofy sight - her navy blue schoolgirl uniform, her tangled pink hair stuck with moss and gravel, her iron armor, diamond sword, the zombie traits that have left her with greenish flesh - but hey… she's here to win a war, not a photo op. Although it would be fun to bring a sword to one of those…
The ledge they're standing on opens into a larger cave, which is spotted with glowberries, distant lava flows, and the shiny violet eyes of endermen. Spiders too, their eyes bright and red. The cave's walking paths curl around the right-hand side, leaving an enormous drop to the left. With her current zombie orientation, Lizzie can see perfectly well a hundred blocks out, and there are… a lot more more mobs than the three of them can take on all at once. "Someone's already come this way," she murmurs to the others. "They've loaded the chunks and spawned everything… They might even still be here."
Martyn ignores her and lines himself up - backwards - against the edge of the drop. He grips a bucket of water in his hand. "Let me see, let me see… There we are. All right: watch this and prepare to be astounded."
"Uh," says Mumbo, reaching out his arm. His soot-stained fingers grasp the end of Martyn's sleeve. He tugs him back. "I'm not sure what I'm looking at here, dude, but I don't think it's a very good idea."
Martyn slaps the hand off anyway, his bones clattering beneath his armor. "Nah, nah; I've been practicing at home. I'm getting some sick footage out of this. Watch me, watch me." Martyn backs up again. Mumbo lets him, though Lizzie can tell from his wincing shoulders that he's still expecting the second death of the season to pop up in the chat any second now. Third, maybe, if you want to be technical, and Lizzie doesn't; it'll be all the more funny to tease her husband that canonically, he died before Jimmy in this round of the games.
Martyn bends his knees a few times, testing. Cautious inhale. Smooth exhale. Then he throws himself backwards off the drop. He backflips, dumps his water bucket, and sticks the landing. Perfect MLG clutch. Half the water's on the cave floor; half comes splashing down on top of him. He throws out his arms, embracing the rain. Lizzie and Mumbo break into golf claps.
"Nice, mate!"
"Oh, come on… You can cheer harder than that! Same team, guys. Same team."
"Creeper, creeper!" Lizzie calls, pointing behind him. Martyn's eyes bulge. He ducks away, searching his inventory for a torch. He doesn't have boots yet and his shoes keep skidding on wet stone. He starts swinging at the creeper, shouting "Avast!" and "Get back, dynamite swine!" until she and Mumbo jump down with weapons in hand. The creeper butts Martyn with its head and knocks him into the water so hard, it disconnects his skeletal forearm. Mumbo ducks sideways, looking for an opening. No dice. Lizzie gives the creeper a hearty swing and accidentally sends it flying off the edge of the next cliff. It falls for a solid second before she hears it thump somewhere below. Its claws scratch as it picks itself up and scurries away into the darkness. Lizzie spits out a bit of hair. Ah, well. Maybe it's better to stay a zombie anyway. She's liking the night vision… and exploding sounds like it might hurt.
She turns away from the drop to find Mumbo pulling Martyn back to his feet. He's soaked and wincing, but doesn't look like he's in too much pain, all things considered. "No hearts lost," he says when he sees Lizzie looking. His disconnected arm bones start finger-crawling away across the floor. "Uh-oh," Martyn mumbles, and tries to kick it with his foot. It scuttles sideways. "Stop, mate… If you make any rude gestures, you're gonna get me fired. At least try to pretend we're PG."
"Huh," says Lizzie, watching the arm crawl closer. Skeletons poof away after you defeat them in battle, apart from the bones they drop on occasion (which you can use to tame greedy wolves). She doesn't normally take the time to study them. If you'd asked her to guess what the skeletal structure of a forearm looked like… she certainly wouldn't have said "actually two separate bones that lie next to each other."
Weird.
The three of them watch in silence for a couple seconds until Lizzie bends down and grabs Martyn's hand by the wrist. The upper part of the arm is fritzing with loose pixels. Lizzie passes it to Mumbo, who holds it near Martyn's elbow until the connector points swirl together again. There we are. Martyn pinches his tongue between his lips, testing the way his arm bends a few times, then gives Mumbo two thumbs up.
"Aw, beauty… We're good. Thanks, guys. Real lifesavers. See Mumbo, this is why I married you."
Lizzie blinks. Mumbo, who's taken Martyn's bucket to scoop the water sloshing at their feet, swings around. Her surprise must show on her face, because his instantly glitches out. He catches himself quickly, but not before she registers that sign of embarrassment.
"It wasn't like that," Mumbo cuts in, covering his face with one hand. He shakes the other Lizzie's way, palm outstretched. "It was… It was back in Last Life. Martyn was just ready to transfer me a life!"
[Cnt'd on AO3 - Link at top]
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whump-card · 10 months ago
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Forged Divinity Chapter 15: Leannan Breaks a Vow
2405 words
CW: institutionalized slavery, religious themes, discussion of suicide, dubcon touch
Previous, Masterlist, Next
~~~
Psalm 128:1
Blessed are all who fear the Lord,
who walk in obedience to him.
~~~
Enjolras de la Glavo was waiting for him when he arrived, one hand resting habitually on her swordless hip. She was in the same room Leannan and Phineas had stayed in when they first arrived on Donda Island – the decent room with the water stain.
Leannan had taken Phineas’ demand for perfection seriously. He’d rouged his cheeks, and spritzed on perfume. He couldn’t do much with the unsightly bruises around his neck, but he prayed everything else would distract from that. He had changed into what he considered to be his most enticing outfit – a conclusion arrived at after a manic session of trying on everything in his wardrobe. He wore a flowy white linen top with a neck so wide it could almost slide down his shoulders, paired with a knee-length sky blue skirt – nothing underneath, of course. His shoes were flat slippers. The whole ensemble oozed privilege and wealth, his exposed skin stating clearly that he was no laborer, he had nothing to fear from the sun when he could laze about indoors all day. His clothes were new, rather than scavenged or patched together. His shoes weren’t even made to go outside.
Lucky. That’s what he was. Thank God.
That’s what Leannan told himself as he stood before Enjolras, hands clasped demurely behind his back.
God wouldn’t have saved him from the massacre just to kill him here.
“How can I please you this evening, madam?” he asked softly.
Enjolras looked at him, a heavy exhaustion in her eyes. She looked weary, a far cry from her whimsical strength displayed in the Council Hall.
“I’m not going to rape you,” she said, her voice low. Leannan watched her carefully. Maybe she meant she wasn’t going to be violent about it. That would be nice.
She grabbed two pillows off of the bed, moving slowly. She dropped them on the floor, one a few feet closer to Leannan.
“Sit,” she ordered.
Leannan obeyed, settling onto the closer pillow in a smooth, practiced motion, tucking his legs under himself and spreading the skirt out becomingly.
Enjolras lowered herself onto her own pillow, moving like her joints pained her, although it didn’t show on her face. Once they were both seated, she took a long, listless breath.
“So,” she began, “You’re the only Iowan left.”
“Yes, madam,” Leannan replied promptly.
“You know that for sure?”
“Yes, madam.” Even if he didn’t, he wouldn’t tell this woman where his – where any others were. “I heard things, over the years, about my peers, and their passings. Iowans don’t live very long.” The truth was that his previous masters had delighted in each death, as it raised Leannan’s value. They’d harp on them to no end.
Enjolras just stared at him, with her smoldering eyes. “We’re prone to cancers,” he added, to fill the space.
“And suicide.”
Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but Leannan bristled anyway.
“Suicide is a sin.” Leannan would never. Never ever.
“Let’s say it is,” Enjolras said, as if it weren’t, “What does it say to you that your brothers and sisters would rather be in Hell than with their masters?” Her voice was quiet, but no less threatening to Leannan. His stomach twisted. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. This wasn’t something he was supposed to think about.
“It – it says to me that they were very misguided,” he stammered.
She regarded him for a long moment. Leannan couldn’t help but squirm slightly under her glare.
“You’re also prone to murder,” she said finally.
“Accidents happen,” Leannan defended, “It can’t be helped…” He suddenly realized what she was implying, the only thing she could be implying, and his breath hitched before picking up speed, panic rising out of his gut.
“Please don’t kill me,” he whispered.
Enjolras’ eyebrows furrowed. “Hang on…”
“Please, I can – I can be so good for you, I’ll do whatever you want!” Terror-driven, Leannan surged forward onto his hands and knees, his talisman necklace swinging. “I’m good at my job, I can be a perfect slut for you, if you’ll let me, please, I can do it!” He dropped his head down, pressing his forehead into the carpet in submission, “You can hurt me, you can do whatever you want, I’ll be good, just please don’t kill me, please!”
“Leannan – it’s Leannan, right?” A hand ghosted over Leannan’s curls, and he whimpered. “Sit up, karulino,” Enjolras encouraged softly, “Sit up, it’s okay.”
Scared to move, but scared to disobey, Leannan lifted his head. He found that Enjolras had closed the distance between them, moving from her pillow to crouch right in front of him. He slowly sat back on his heels, not daring to look her in the eye. She settled her hands on his shoulders, trapping him.
“Leannan. You’re not safe here.”
He couldn’t process what she was saying; between the fear, his heart pounding in his ears, and the chilling pressure of her hands, nothing made it through. Her hands weighed him down like a smothering blanket, dulling his senses and trapping him inside himself.
“Choking is a major red flag. If you don’t get out, whoever did that to you will kill you.”
Master James. She was talking about Master James.
“I can handle it,” he whispered, his hands clenching the fabric of his skirt, “I’m made for this.”
“No, Leannan, you’re not. No one’s made for this.”
He started the speech. “Iowans were forged from the blood of a fallen angel -”
“You weren’t,” Enjolras said forcefully, silencing him, “You were supposed to be supersoldiers, but they fucked it up, just – just listen to me, okay? You are not safe here. You need to escape.”
Leannan dared to flick his gaze up to her face, to her horrible, burning eyes. What did she want from him?
“Running away is a sin,” was all he could say, lowering his eyes back to his knees. “God would strike me down.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do!” Leannan found sudden strength in his voice, the confidence that comes from speaking the truth, “When I transgress, I am punished. When I am good, I am rewarded. I’ve seen it, it’s true.”
“So what did you do to deserve this, huh?” Enjolras pressed a hand to the side of his neck.
“I…” Leannan faltered. He couldn’t remember. Surely it was because he was so panicked, that he couldn’t remember. But even if there wasn’t a reason, it didn’t matter. ��Peter, two-nineteen. It – it is commendable if someone bears up under the pain of suffering.”
“Leannan.”
“But how is it to your credit if you receive a beating for doing wrong and endure it?”
“Leannan.”
“But if you suffer for doing good and you endure it, that’s commendable before God.”
Enjolras was silent for a moment. Then she muttered, “Diable, you’re in deep.”
“You’re a heathen,” Leannan whispered, eyes glued to his lap, “I won’t listen to you anymore.”
“No, Leannan, listen, I…” her voice grew urgent before she caught herself and took a breath, “I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone, alright?”
“Iowans are sworn to secrecy,” Leannan recited miserably.
“I know, just… listen, okay?” She scooted closer to him, moving her hand from his neck to his cheek as she leaned in to whisper in his ear. “La Libera didn’t wipe out the Iowans. They told everyone that so no one would go looking. They’re all alive, they’re on the other side of Lake Ontario.”
Leannan jerked his head away to stare at her, wide-eyed with shock. Her scorching gaze was steady and calm.
“I know they made you father children, Leannan,” she said softly, reaching for his cheek again, “Before they sold you.”
Something inside Leannan revolted. He shoved her away and jumped to his feet, scrambling towards the door. He need to get away from this woman, immediately. She was a heathen, and a trickster, and a liar. Everything she said was designed to get under his skin, just like she’d taunted Phineas, and none of it was real. It couldn’t be.
“Leannan!” Enjolras called after him, but Leannan threw open the door and bounded out into the hallway. The door ricocheted shut behind him and he made it three steps before slamming straight into Phineas, who grabbed him and clamped a hand over his mouth.
“Shh!” Phineas hissed, and dragged Leannan down the hallway and into his room. Leannan went along, going nearly slack in their grasp. It was all too much. He needed Phineas to tell him what to do.
Phineas released him once they were in the room. Leannan almost tripped over the scattered clothes on the floor, still strewn about after his personal fashion show.
“What did she say to you?” Phineas demanded.
“Oh, Phineas, it was awful,” Leannan was thrilled to be able to complain, “She said all kinds of blasphemous things and she threatened to kill me, Phineas!”
“Not that,” Phineas grabbed his arm, “What did she whisper to you, I couldn’t hear.”
“You were listening?” Leannan tilted his head.
“Of course I was, you fucking idiot slut. Tell me what she said.”
“Well I – I can’t, she invoked my vow of secrecy.”
Phineas huffed a sigh, bowing their head and taking a moment to collect themself. Then they looked back up at Leannan with a smile.
“You were such a good boy, resisting her temptations to run away.”
“Oh… Thank you, Phineas,” Leannan half-smiled, appreciating the praise but distracted by Phineas’ crushing grip on his arm.
“And you were such a good boy when you told me all about Jeanette’s evil books.”
Leannan’s stomach flipped and his smile soured. “What?”
“You knew it was the right thing to do,” Phineas said gently, “So you came and told me.”
Leannan shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did! Don’t tell me you don’t remember.”
“But – no, I…” Leannan stammered, “Was I drunk?”
“A little tipsy, maybe.”
Dread clenched around Leannan’s heart. His only missing time was when Brochard had gotten him wasted – he must have told Phineas then.
He’d broken a vow. There would be consequences.
“I told you?” he asked again, a little dazed, just to be sure.
“You did,” Phineas said, “And you were a very good boy for telling me. Can you be a good boy again? Leannan?” Phineas released their vice-like grip on Leannan’s arm in favor of caressing his cheek.
Leannan couldn’t help the way that hearing good boy and Leannan come out of Phineas’ mouth made him feel weak at the knees and quivery deep in his gut, or the way that he leaned into Phineas’ gentle touch, eager and hungry.
But even if he’d broken his vow once, he couldn’t do it again. Once was horrifying enough.
“I can’t tell you,” he said softly, “Besides, it was all lies anyway.”
It had to be lies.
“If it was all lies,” Phineas slid a hand over Leannan’s hip, shifting closer to him, “What does it matter if you tell me?”
“I can’t break my vow. Not again,” Leannan said, quiet but firm.
“How about this,” Phineas said, sliding their hand into Leannan’s skirt and squeezing his bare ass, “You can tell me, and I’ll make you feel very, very good… Or. You can keep your vow. And I can kill that little friend of yours.”
The air evaporated from Leannan’s lungs. “Huh?”
“Her name’s Maeve, right?” Phineas smiled, all sharp teeth and glinting eyes. “Tell me, or I’ll kill her.”
Leannan shook his head, part denial, part disbelief. “You can’t, I can’t, Phineas, please.” He started to pull away, pressing a hand against Phineas’ chest, but Phineas gripped his ass and the back of his neck and held him close.
“You think I wont?” they threatened, shaking him slightly. A panicked whimper rose in Leannan’s throat. Not Maeve. Not patient, quiet, thoughtful Maeve.
“It’s just a whispered lie,” Phineas hissed, “What’s the harm in sharing?”
Leannan squeezed his eyes shut. He knew Phineas could do it – would do it. Maeve didn’t deserve that.
Whatever came from breaking his vow, Leannan could handle it. He would endure it, for Maeve.
“She – she claimed that La Libera didn’t kill the Iowans,” Leannan whispered, as if saying it quietly made it less of a transgression, “That they’re all alive, on the far side of Lake Ontario.”
Phineas froze, staring at him for a moment, before they smiled warmly.
“Good boy, Leannan,” they pressed against him, kissing his jaw, “What a good boy you are for me.” Their lower hand started to pull down Leannan’s skirt.
The praise, the panic, the taboo, the relief of saving Maeve – it all overwhelmed Leannan, and he gripped Phineas’ shirt and nestled his face into the crook of their neck, desperate for some stability.
“Phineas, what if something bad happens now?” he whined, as Phineas dropped his skirt to the floor.
“Hej, I won’t let anyone hurt you, bebino,” Phineas murmured into his ear.
“But something bad has to happen to me now,” Leannan insisted as Phineas groped his hips, his rear, kissing his neck, “I’ve broken my vow of secrecy twice!” His fear was turning Phineas’ touches cold.
“I won’t let anything happen,” Phineas soothed, but Leannan was unswayed. He pushed against Phineas’ chest, drawing back to look them in the eye.
“You don’t understand, something bad has to happen, I will be punished, and I don’t want James to…” He shook his head forcefully. Enjolras’ words were worming their way into his mind. There had to be a way out of this, a way to make it right – then it struck him.
“Phineas, you can do it, you can punish me!” he fisted his hands in their shirt, breathy and frantic, “Please, Phineas, I know you won’t take it too far.”
Phineas stared at him, a strange light coming to life in their eyes as Leannan begged, rising onto his tiptoes, eyes wide.
“Please, punish me, Phineas! Any way you see fit, just – please? Please punish me?”
This had to work. Leannan had to atone. What better way to alone than to submit himself to Phineas? Phineas would know what to do.
Phineas enjoyed Leannan’s desperation for a moment longer, lifting a hand to cup his cheek.
“Ask again,” they whispered.
Leannan gulped, tears rising, searching Phineas’ eyes.
“Please punish me.”
Phineas smiled, brushing a thumb over Leannan’s lips.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
~~~
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