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wordsarelife · 7 months ago

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—𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: theo and you used to be friends. that was a long time ago. now you pretty much hate each other and theo uses his feelings about you to write a song!

warnings: i don’t think there are any! let me know if that’s not true :)

note: here it is!! finally the prologue is here! don’t worry the actual chapters will be much longer. we just needed a starting point! hope you enjoy!!!

word count: 0.9k

masterlist | next part

there was a single path connecting the backyard of the two houses, making it almost hard not to run into each other. despite that, you had sworn yourself to never set a foot on said path ever again, always straying away before your feet could touch the concrete.

you hadn't been watching him, but it seemed that theo was doing the same. you had never once spotted him wandering across the yard.

because your eyes were still fixated on the path, you didn't notice the movement in the window across from you, only looking up, when you heard the knocking through your opened window. theo was standing there, watching you with a smirk, before he reached for his pen and wrote something.

he grabbed his bag, winking at you, before he slapped the paper against the window, turning around and walking out of his room before you were able to react.

'bye, pixie' he had written, making you sigh. he had called you that ever since one fateful day in your childhood. because, believe it or not, theo and you had been friends once.

you had been seven when you tried to cut your own hair, much to your mother's dismay, who had dragged you to a hairstylist the same day, eager to fix the mess you had created. there wasn't much to save or fix so you ended up with a rather horrible pixie cut for the next few months.

your hair had eventually grown out to it's normal length, the pixie fading away before you could even start to be ashamed of it, but theo wasn't one to let go of things quickly, so he had been calling you that to this day.

and since your friendship had ended, making room for the hatred towards each other, he seemed to just get a rise of the way it bothered you so much.

you rolled your eyes, pushing back the feeling of annoyance as you dragged your curtain close so you wouldn't have to look at his window anymore.

✦•〰〰〰〰〰★🎸☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

theo arrived at the garage sooner than he would've predicted, lazily leaning his bike against the wall, before he walked inside.

"you're early" mattheo noted, while taking a look at his phone.

"don't flatter yourself" theo smiled, before he ruffled mattheo's hair, sitting down on the couch beside his best friend. "what about the others?"

"enzo forget his guitar, blaise and draco went with him to get it"

"he forgot it again?" theo sighed, leaning back into the cushion.

"he's been acting up quite a lot" mattheo shrugged "maybe it's the stress"

theo shrugged, before he grabbed his bag, taking out the red leather book. "i have something to finish"

"another song?" mattheo furrowed his brows, before he stood up and walked across the room.

"maybe" theo shrugged "i've been working on something" his mind wandered off.

"might not be the worst idea to put out another single right after the album. we'll stay relevant that way" mattheo pointed out and theo nodded absentmindedly. "i'll leave you to it" mattheo walked in the direction of the door, a towel in his hand. he was probably going swimming in the lake that was right next to the garage.

the garage was more of a loft than an actual garage. but it had always been called that and every member of cursed legacy was rather keen on sticking to things.

"we are relevant" theo argued, right before mattheo snuck out the door. he could not hear his answer, if mattheo had even answered anything.

theo sighed as his eyes fell back on the unfinished song in his book. the words had fallen right out of his mind and on the page it seemed. somehow this song had been easier to write than any other he had written. and that had been almost every song on cursed legacy's first album: neon nights.

sometimes mattheo or blaise had helped him. enzo and draco often had ideas for a few lines, but ultimately most of their songs were written by theo.

he jotted down more and more lines, adding the chorus, the bridge. occasionally he stopped writing to play a few notes on draco's keyboard, making sure the lines were fitting the melody. in just less than thirty minutes he had a finished song.

loud noises in front of the door made theo look up from the book. the door was opened by blaise and he entered the garage closely followed by draco and enzo and also mattheo, who had probably run into them right outside.

"hey" enzo greeted "sorry that we're late, honestly my fault, but—“

theo shook his head, interrupting the boy "it's fine, enzo. i want you guys to listen to something"

"sure" draco pushed enzo forward, so he had enough room to sit down on the couch. the rest of their group took their respective seats as well, ready to listen to whatever theo was wanting to show them.

they all listened attentively as theo played the notes on the keyboard, eventually adding the lyrics he had written down, until they were presented with the whole song. they looked at each other, smiling in silent agreement.

"what do you think?" theo asked, but his friends did not answer. they all got up, taking their instruments and resuming to their positions next to him.

"what are you waiting for?" draco asked when theo had not moved to stand in front of the microphone.

"let's record it right now" enzo added when he noticed theo's confused look.

theo smiled upon his friends enthusiam. "sure" he nodded, grabbing his mic and stepping into the middle of their little circle.

thank you so much for reading!!

taglist:

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browneyesandhair · 3 months ago

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Non-Exhaustive List of Soulmate Fics: Klaroline Pt 1

Okay, I'm bored so I'm compiling my favorite soulmate fics. Here's the Klaroline edition:

Runaway by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline has been running from her soul mate since she found him standing over her father’s corpse.

Hunt You Slow by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Discovering that the scourge of the supernatural was her soulmate would be enough to send any girl running.

At Horizon's Edge by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Sometimes when a girl goes on a shopping trip to pick up a new pair of boots at the local, and somewhat hostile, human space station, she accidentally aids and abets a prison break instead. What happens in the black really doesn't stay in the black.

The Howling by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

Caroline's day goes from bad to worse to insane in a matter of moments.

Written On Your Skin by LaLainaJ

Summary:

It's a rather boring day, at the flower shop Caroline owns. And then The Original Hybrid walks in, and changes her life by uttering a few small words. They're words Caroline knows, words she sees on her skin, every day in the mirror. She's thought about her soulmate, who wouldn't have? But he's the last thing she ever would have expected, and the last person she should want. But she can't quite bring herself to deny their connection.

The Air We Breathe by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

When Caroline learns that her soulmate is the thousand year old Original Hybrid, she cries, because she knows her world is ending. When Klaus learns that his soulmate is a baby vampire, he is intrigued, because he has waited his entire life for her. Soulmates AU.

Even When We're Ghosts by LaLainaJ

Summary:

He'd just been planning to collect his doppelganger, hadn't anticipated such strong resistance. Now, trapped in his wolf form, until he meets his soulmate, Klaus seeks alternative solutions. He doesn't believe in soulmates. Until Caroline Forbes crosses his path. Caroline thinks she's hallucinating (note to self, don't accept moonshine from old ladies) until her life starts getting... weird. The Mikaelsons aren't great at subtle.

the fate makes for a lousy poet. by for_darkness_shows_the_stars

Summary:

It is not unheard of. Soulmates born too far apart to ever meet. Caroline did her research thoroughly. It’s just rare. And for all that she’d known her entire life that her fated other half was dead long, long before she was even a gleam in her mother’s eye … it’s unfair. . Everyone is born with a soulmate. It just so happens that a millennium divides Caroline from hers.

I Wish I Was (I Wish I Was) by dressedupasmyself

Summary:

“I think that even if you find your soulmate, there’s some measure of choice involved. Maybe some people just make the wrong choices.” “Good,” Caroline said. “What if my soulmate is, like, the worst? I wouldn’t want to be stuck with him forever. I want some kind of choice.” “But that’s the beauty of it,” Elena sounded wistful, “Your soulmate might be awful to everyone else, but they’re the best for you.” Caroline scoffed. “Okay, whatever.”

Passing Notes in Secrecy by perfectpro

Summary:

Caroline doesn’t remember not having a soulmate. Her mom says that the drawings started when she was small, just a baby. So he’s clearly older than her. She doesn’t mind, thinks that it will probably be nice to be with someone who has a little more life experience. She thinks she's one of the lucky ones.

The Raven Hunter by LynyrdLionheart

Summary:

There is a killer hunting frat boys on campus. The Raven Hunter is a terrible name... not that Caroline has a reason to care or anything.

a part of something that’s bigger (than me) by Issay

Summary:

In the beginning she's a plaything, the mean girl brought low, made and unmade by decisions of others and Caroline never receives apologies for most of it. Elena fights for her happy ending and through all of her losses and dark despair she is never alone. Bonnie wins her freedom, powerful in her own right. Caroline is left with uncertainty and obligations. No, the story isn't kind to Caroline. So let's change the story.

oh there you are (i've been looking for you) by breakfasttako

Summary:

Caroline was born a fated one, which means two things: 1) She has a soulmate 2) She's going to die tragically young

What's a Little Ink? by Writerwithagoal

Summary:

What would you get as a tattoo if you knew it would appear on your soulmate?

Hallowed Ground by KiryTheStitchWitch

Summary:

Caroline's trip to Ireland was not going the way it was supposed to. She was expecting stories and myths, and instead finds that some legends are a lot more real than she could have imagined. And hot. Really hot.

Inadvisable by MissNMikaelsonSummary:Everyone has soul words. The first thing your soulmate will ever say etched somewhere on your body. Caroline always dreaded meeting hers. She had never imagined this though; she had never imagined him. He had all but given up. Just a one shot for one of my favorite pairings.

Midnattsol by BelleMorte180

Summary:

The man laying before her was her soulmate, someone who should have died a thousand years ago. Written for AU-Season week three

Ship of Bones by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

When humanity struggles to maintain its racial identity in the cold reaches of space, Caroline Forbes has hidden the gifts her alien mother left her. But secrets aren't secrets forever.

Familiar Taste of Poison by Cupcakemolotov

Summary:

A great love isn't always a blessing.

Holding Out for a Hero by slstmaraudersjple

Summary:

Klaus would totally be able to focus on his plans for world domination… if only his soulmate would stop singing that thrice-damned song. But then there's silence, and Klaus grows worried. Soulmate AU where songs that one’s soulmate sings gets stuck in one’s head. CW/TW: descriptions of Caroline being abused by Damon but nothing graphic/explicit.

#the vampire diaries #tvd #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #klaroline #caroline x klaus #caroline/forbes #rec list #soulmate aus #fandom soulmates #browneyes shares fanfic #recs

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venusloveslobotomies · 2 years ago

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Wsg wsg, I was hoping for a Professor Chaos x reader x Mysterion, or a Vic Chaos x reader x (p.c.) Kenny

Either works as long as you’re comfortable, and if you’re not that’s totally okay!

Tyty xo

Professor Chaos x femReader x Mysterion

⚠️NSFW WARNING⚠️ please be aware! i cannot control who interacts with my posts so use your best judgement and proceed at your own risk. people have been jumping into the SP fandom complaining about age and friendly reminder that ALL of my works are aged up to 18-20s.

You hadn’t been in South Park all that long. You moved for some peace and quiet away from the big city, however South Park may have just been the worst choice.

Regardless, you were still enjoying your time, attending your classes and working part time. You’d made a few friends so far, however you’d had no luck in the dating scene. Most of the boys your age were too loud or too conservative or just plain not your type. Turns out, it wouldn’t be too much longer until you’d get your fill of love.

Finishing work, you’d gotten changed at home before heading out to the gas station for snacks and drinks. It was your usual routine, which considering it was about 11pm, probably wasn’t the smartest idea. Who knew who was watching you every night?

You headed home, tote bag slung over your shoulder. You went down the main street before turning down a side street. It was still well-lit, however the alleys criss-crossing your path that ran behind businesses were didn’t have such good visibility. Hence why you didn’t quite see the figure on the corner until you passed it.

“Hi, sweetheart.” You tensed and tried to decide whether to stop or keep moving. This falter gave him time to catch up and walk alongside you, “Pretty gal like you shouldn’t be out so late. What’re ya doin’ runnin around in the dark?” When you met his eyes, you noticed the distinct eye of your classmate Leopold. Clouded grey with a deep scar running over the center. However, your usually shy, reserved classmate was dressed… strangely. His face was partly covered in a silver crown… or helm? Was that the word? And a thick aqua jacket and slacks.

“Just… uhhh. Getting my groceries.” You stuttered slightly, not used to the domineering personality he seemed to have now.

“Well now, that’s not the best idea. Isn’t it a bit too late to be makin a grocery run?”

“I guess so, but I work too late to be going earlier.” You’d finally stopped under a streetlamp to speak more politely. You hadn’t really noticed how tall he was before, nor the lean muscles that showed through his clothes. It was definitely making you blush despite the alarm bells ringing in your head.

As he began to speak again, he was interrupted by another figure that lithely landed between the both of you, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Good evening, Chaos. Luring pretty girls astray again?” The cloaked man spoke in a low husky voice that you couldn’t quite place.

“Get outta my face.” Butters growled, stepping forward to confront the new person. This could be your opportunity to escape, but the intrigue kept you rooted in place.

“Do you need an escort home? I’m Mysterion.” He turned to you and offered a charming grin and an arm, “You don’t want to be hanging around a villain like Professor Chaos.”

Your mouth opened slightly, unsure how to cope with two very gorgeous men arguing over you.

“Mysterion, let’s speak in private a moment? Now?” Professor Chaos spoke through gritted teeth.

“Just a moment, princess.” Mysterion shot you a wink before following Butters a few feet away. You didn’t catch much but ‘share’, ‘be fair’ and your name. They stood for a moment in silence, seeming to reach an agreement about… something.

You weren’t exactly sure how you’d been sweet talked into following them, under the impression of some sort of date happening. This was possibly the strangest thing that had ever happened to you but you were missing the hijinks of living in a busy city. And maybe you were kind of attracted to both of them and the loneliness of being a new place had weakened your resolve.

As with everywhere in South Park, it wasn’t too far a walk, however before you could know where you were going, they stopped abruptly.

“So, sweetheart. I gotta ask you a favor.” Mysterion spoke softly, tracing your arm gently, “We can’t exactly have you knowing where either of us work. So… if I can cover your eyes?” He presented a beanie with a sheepish grin. This was a one-way street to get kidnapped but again, your brain was slowly being turned to mush by the attention of these two. Your mind screamed at you to stop and run but you found yourself nodding and allowing Mysterion to pull the beanie down over your eyes. One of them picked you up and began walking. You turned two corners but that was all you could take notice of before you heard a lock click and the wind was no longer brushing your skin. Down a flight of stairs, then another, before you were set down and could see again. Surprisingly, it was a simple kitchen. Mysterion was already helping himself to coffee, asking if you wanted one. You nodded and dropped your bag. Chaos was tracing shapes on your bare arm and it made you shiver as you took the mug from Mysterion. What the hell was happening and why were you ok with it.

They asked you lots of questions about yourself, slowly moving into flirty territory as you went along. Your speech was becoming more and more stuttered as they leaned in, seemingly entranced by your hesitant answers. Mysterion got up, giving Chaos a strange, subtle signal you clearly weren’t meant to notice. He left, mentioning he was looking for something. Chaos made strong eye contact with you and you blushed, looking away, not before becoming aware of the smirk growing on his face. Before you could react he was next to you, tilting your face to meet his. Your lips dropped open slightly in shock as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. He was gentle, but still strong. You melted into his touch after a few seconds and as soon as you submitted to the situation, he pulled you out of your seat and against his body, one hand still resting on your jaw and the other gripping your waist. Your hands rested on his chest and he slowly became more aggressive with his kisses, beginning to bite at your lower lip, demanding you open wider. When you did, his tongue slid in, entangling itself with yours. You tried to suppress the moan rising in your chest but as his hand slid down to squeeze your ass, it just slipped out. The sound was met with a growl from him and he tightly pressed your hips into him. His hips bucked slightly against your stomach and it sent butterflies all over your body. He pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips. He grinned, something mischievous glowing in his eyes. He pulled off your shirt and you tensed at the cold that hit you.

Pressing kisses from your jaw down to your chest, he ran his thumbs teasingly softly over your bra, slowing as they met your nipples. You hissed at the sensation and he licked your collarbone before biting into the soft spot where your neck met your shoulder. You cried out, eliciting another growl from your classmate.

Suddenly, a pair of hands gripped your hips from behind and pulled your ass to meet something hard. The other side of your neck was attacked in the same manner of licking, kissing and biting. You were getting wetter by the minute, pinned between the two most gorgeous boys you’d ever seen.

You felt your bra unclip from behind and fall to the ground. Mysterion’s hands gently gripped your breasts and teased your nipples excruciatingly gently. Chaos knelt down in front of you, kissing and licking down your abdomen as he ran his hands up and under your skirt to play with your underwear and squeeze your ass.

“Such a pretty gal. So soft and submissive for us.” He licked his lips and you whined. You felt a laugh against your neck as Mysterion seemed to get even more intense with his hands on your chest. Your whining cut off into a gasping moan as Chaos ran his thumb over your clothed clit.

“She’s so wet already. What a good girl.” He chuckled and slowly dragged his thumb from your slit to your clit over and over again. Meanwhile, Mysterion gripped your neck and pulled your head backwards to rest on his shoulder.

“Best idea you’ve had in a while, Professor Chaos. She’s a gem. Aren’t you just so pretty?” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and flattened his hand against your stomach, pulling you flush against his body. You tried your best to restrain the sounds begging to be released. It couldn’t last for long.

“No one can hear you, princess. You should really make those pretty sounds for us if you want us to keep going.” Mysterion’s husky voice really just did something to you that you couldn’t explain. You weren't going to have a choice as Chaos tore off your panties and hitched up your skirt to slide his tongue into you. A strangled, breathy moan escaped you and spurred him on and he continued to lick and suck your dripping core. Your mews and whines continued, slowly rising in volume. Mysterion tilted your face sideways to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, sweetheart." He growled lowly and used your ass to grind his erection into. This really just began to undo you and as you struggled to maintain eye contact, you could feel your climax knotting in your belly. They seemed to notice your heightened state and released you from their grips. Chaos standing up and carefully removing his clothes. As Mysterion let you go to copy him, you almost slid to the ground, not expecting the sudden lack of stimulation. You caught yourself and found yourself stepping back to lean against the table and let your eyes wander over their bodies. They both had lean muscles that were easy to see but not over the top. And they were both tall and... big. Too big for you, you worried. But you were willing to try. Mysterion kept his mask on while Chaos took his helm off. You could see Mysterion's golden blonde hair though as he approached you and pulled you into him. Your legs were jelly and your body was putty in his hands.

He kissed you roughly and rolled his hips against yours to grind his dripping cock against your stomach. You tangled your hands in his hair and pushed yourself against him as tightly as you could. A dark chuckle bubbled from his lips as he felt your wetness against him.

"Use your words, baby. Consent is key." He smirked against your lips.

"Please."

"Please, what?"

"Please, fuck me."

"Yes ma'am." He grinned and slid his cock into you painfully slowly. He lifted your leg to rest on his waist and he began thrusting, pulling whines and cries from your mouth. As his pace picked up, his hand gripped your leg so hard you were sure there would be perfect fingerprint bruises tomorrow. The low moans that poured from him only made you wetter and closer to your climax.

He suddenly slowed down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before calling out for Chaos.

"You wanna finish her off?" He shot you a smirk as you groaned in displeasure due to the sudden stop.

"Course I do. Can't let ya have all the fun." Professor Chaos took his place, eyes roaming your body in the dirtiest way possible. He took the slick from your pussy to wet his cock. You wondered how he was coping with the evidently painful erection. "You ready, darlin'?" You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him roughly, practically begging him with that kiss. He started hard and fast, lips still locked with yours as his hips snapped against yours in a subtly unsteady rhythm. His moans were more like growls as he held the nape of your neck, watching your face contort in pleasure. He used his other hand to rub his thumb over your clit. It was hard but not too fast. Just enough pressure and speed to make the knot begin to tighten quicker than before.

"I'm close, I'm close." You breathed out, digging your fingernails into his shoulders, panting as you shook with pleasure and anticipation.

"Good girl. Cum for me." He gripped your jaw and studied your face as you cried out and allowed your climax to wash over you, "Goddamn." He choked out, feeling your pussy tighten and spasm around his cock. His thumb continued relentlessly on your clit throughout your orgasm until you finally went limp. He pulled out and lowered you gently to the floor.

"I think I have an idea." Mysterion appeared beside his comrade and offered you a sly smirk. His hand pumped over his dick, watching you attempt to catch your breath. He seemed to be enjoying your fucked out appearance almost as much as fucking you. Chaos caught on quickly but kept his pace slower. You had your own idea, however, and pushed yourself up to take Mysterion's cock in your mouth and pushed your head down until the tip of his cock pressed against the soft spot in the back of your throat. You looked up at him with the sweetest eyes you'd ever given anyone and continued to keep your cheeks hollowed and bob your head in the quickest pace you could manage.

"Fuck, princess. So pretty and willing." He bit his lip and he bucked his hips in time with your pace until he began to falter. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and you pressed yourself further until your nose brushed his pelvis. You could hear him moaning and grunting in a strangled sort of way. You felt hot ropes drip down your throat and you swallowed quickly, multiple times as the squeezing of your throat seemed to draw out every single drop. When you pulled away, you licked your lips, surprised at just how much cum had been emptied into your mouth. He knelt down quickly to kiss you and lick the saliva from your lips. Fuck, that might've been the hottest thing that had ever happened to you.

Once Mysterion had released you, you turned your gaze upon Professor Chaos, who was definitely struggling to keep it together. That was definitely the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

"Your turn." You shuffled on your knees to kitten lick the tip of his cock. He groaned lowly and you happily took him in your mouth, flattening your tongue against the underside of his dick and similarly sliding him all the way to the back of your throat, taking a slower pace to recover from the abuse your throat had already endured. He gripped your hair and rolled his hips slowly, taking in the view with pleasure. You offered him the same sweet gaze and he seemed to blush. Just a bit. You picked up your pace and he matched it until you were at the fastest pace you could take and you felt him getting closer and closer. Again, you applied the same trick of pressing forward to take him to the hilt and his hips jerked, finally releasing sticky, hot ropes down your throat.

"Goddamn. Shit." He stuttered out, his voice softening to its normal tone as he held your head where it was until he finished. As soon as he pulled out, he pulled you up by your arms and roughly kissed you, tasting himself in your mouth. His tongue seemed to reach all the way down your sensitive throat and you moaned softly against him.

"That was the best thing a gal has ever done to me." He admitted as he pulled out of the kiss.

"I tried." You whispered, smiling softly. Mysterion was already there with towels and you let them clean you up. Those moments afterwards you really saw the softer parts of them as they made sure you were ok and got you water.

After you'd managed to all get dressed again, it didn't take long for a soft makeout session to start, you trying to split your attention equally between the two boys. Mysterion got an evil smile at one point and pulled Chaos in for a hot and heavy kiss. You were taken aback but definitely not complaining. Unfortunately all good things must come to an end and it seemed to end all too quickly.

"We ought to take you home, doll." Chaos ran his thumb over your swollen lips and motioned with his head to Mysterion, who scooped you up. Professor Chaos picked up your bag and they began to walk out, carrying you along with them.

"Aren't you supposed to blindfold me or something." You asked.

"Now, we can't be doing that every single time." Mysterion winked and you blushed, definitely not expecting that answer.

"So, we'll be doing this again?" You asked, almost in a whisper.

"If that's what ya want, darlin'." Chaos replied. You nodded and hid your face in Mysterion's shoulder until you finally arrived home.

You offered your phone to them, indicating they should put their numbers in. Once they'd finished, you shyly kissed each of them.

"I hope I don't have to wait too long." You smiled sweetly.

"Definitely not." Mysterion elbowed Chaos and chuckled.

"But who are you, Mysterion?" He laughed a bit and lifted his mask just enough for you to see and quickly slid it back on again.

"Kenny?" You were definitely shocked. You'd never really interacted with him before and you weren't complaining that he was the secret superhero.

"See you around, sweetheart. Give us a call if you're ever in any trouble." He winked and pulled you in for a last kiss before hopping out your window.

"Well, see ya, darlin'. You ever need anyone taken care of, you know who to ask." He kissed both of your cheeks before pressing a particularly sweet one to your lips and followed Mysterion.

Definitely not what you were expecting when you moved to the small town of South Park.

i hope it was what you wanted! i was struggling a bit cause ive never really posted any smut that ive written so i really hope it was good 😭.

<33

#mysterion #mysterion x reader #professor chaos #professor chaos x reader #butters stotch x reader #butters stotch #butters x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny x reader #south park x reader #south park kenny #south park butters

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watchtowerindistress · 2 months ago

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the empath and the eldritch horror (3/5) - sparrow!ben x empath!reader

Summary: Alphonso and Jayme were dead. Sloane was kidnapped. Ben was supposed to be Number One. He just didn't know whether to feel more at ease or challenged that the little Empath wouldn't stop crossing his mind and path.

Word count: 4.7k

Warning: fluff, kinda angsty, language, smut (mutual masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex)

Author's note: This series is officially back in progress 😅 I would have dubbed this chapter as part of the i'm not done arc, but you guys wanted this to be chronologically included in the series. So, this is between chapter one and two and is set during episode 4.

I don't know if this was the best smut I ever wrote, but it's been a long time since I wrote something sexual. At least, it feels very teasing. So, not a lot has changed between those two.

I was so scared of not writing enough for this chapter, but look at this 🤣 Still, feels like filler though.

Please don't think too hard on this ability 😅 It kinda reminded me of Emma Frost or a Succubus. 😈

Please please please for the love of God write a small comment or reblog this.

Series masterlist

~ Ben POV ~

This wasn’t happening. He was supposed to be Number One. To lead the Sparrows and do a better job than Marcus ever did. And show his dad that demoting him was the worst mistake he ever made.

Now Alphonso and Jayme were dead. And Sloane probably too. Or detained if they were so lucky. Ben didn’t trust the Umbrellas not to do something rash.

Ben just didn’t see the old man coming. The Umbrellas—he could take care of them. They were replaceable and stupidly tried to avoid conflicts they knowingly provoked.

Damn amateurs. If it weren’t for the little one and … Eight.

Speaking of the little Empath…

Ever since Fei and him debriefed their dad about the absolute mission failure, Ben couldn’t just let it go. Even after a few hours, his feet led him back, hoping to get a glimpse of the walking firebomb. What he saw instead surprised him, although it shouldn’t have.

The Empath who had been elusive during the fight. Or plain massacre as he liked to call it since pulling the wildcard out of nowhere felt like a foul trick.

Ben wouldn’t have minded seeing you in action again. Maybe he would have pulled you to the side and watched how you reacted to his tentacles making an appearance.

Ben didn’t get to really see you in action when you and your family first arrived at the Academy. At least, not personally. Still, he loved replaying the scene of you using your powers against Marcus in his head. Served him right for thinking you would be an easy target.

Before his mind would get sidetracked again, his eyes followed you as you were taking a stroll in the bright of day. Ben leaned his shoulder against the brick of a shop, hoping to appear inconspicuous every time you looked around.

Smart girl for remaining vigilant after the death of two Sparrows and being trapped in a timeline you weren’t supposed to be in.

Ben passed the civilians on the sidewalk, zeroing in on the figure wearing the bright summer dress under the jean jacket. If he wasn’t who he was and your family hadn’t just killed two of his siblings, he would think you were cute. Still, Ben shook his head to ward off those wayward thoughts.

He pretended inspecting the display of books in the window of the shop, watching you linger near the clothes rack out of the corner of his eye. Ben crossed his arms, facing the bestsellers again.

He was still debating with himself what to do with you once you were within reach. He would consider it fitting to kidnap you—again—as your family didn’t see anything wrong in holding Sloane prisoner.

Ben’s gaze slid to the sidewalk again—to find it empty. He furrowed his brows. Being on the lookout for the little Empath who probably intended to play a trick on him by spying on him from around the corner, like the little she-devil she was. His suspicions rose with every step he took, cautiously walking to the spot you harbored previously. His head swiveled around. But there was nothing out of the ordinary.

It was like you had turned into a ghost, turned invisible when he wasn’t looking. Ben narrowed his eyes, listening to the soft breeze shaking the leaves in the trees. Feeling it ruffle through his hair.

Something soft brushed against his shoulder, giving off the illusion of a phantom touch. Ben grumbled, shrugging his shoulders to get rid off the feeling. A slow, tingling sensation wandered from his shoulder to his neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. With a careful motion, Ben turned his head, finding nothing that would stir his interest.

He felt it before the voice whispered into his ear. “Are you doing something you’re not supposed to be doing?”

Ben turned his head to where the voice came from. Instantly knowing it was yours. Too many thoughts were rushing through his heads, like how you were doing this. Instead, he chose a direct approach when he spoke to the invisible form. “I’m not playing your little mind games.”

Your voice shifted around him with every movement when you said snarkily from behind, “No? Are you more into the stalking game?”

Ben scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not. That’s ridiculous. You think you’re so special?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re a bad liar?”

Ben shook off the shiver he got from you whispering so intimately into his ear. He ground his teeth. “Depends. Do you always want to be right?”

His fingers twitched the longer you remained quiet.

“I’m sorry. I heard what happened.”

The mere reminder let heat rise in his cheeks. Ben clenched his jaw. He didn’t need your compassion or your comfort. He just couldn’t let his guard down around you. If you were anything like your family, you would use your charms to distract him and gain the upper hand before he could blink.

“Sorry that you weren’t there to kill my family yourself?” He shook his head derisively and snapped his fingers like he just remembered something. Not caring that he probably appeared like a crazy person just talking to air. “Right. I forgot. An Empath who doesn’t use her powers to hurt or even kill people. What good are you even for, Number Eight?”

The voice of his father echoed in the back of his head, haunting him. Bringing to mind all the times he committed a grave faux pas during training or didn’t behave in a way which was becoming for a Sparrow. Every second of silence from your end made him want to take it all back. But there was not a chance he actually would.

You slowly turned visible in front of his eyes. Ben had to blink at seeing the softness in your eyes.

“What do you want, Ben?” You said wearily.

Ben smirked, his eyes shifted into something lifeless. “Many things. Why don’t we just start with justice?”

You sighed. “Kill him, you mean? We don’t get all the things we want in life.”

Recognition lit up his eyes. “So, you know that man.”

You exhaled almost with disappointment. “So, I’m dealing with More vindictive Ben. Lucky me, huh?”

Ben narrowed his eyes. “You actually think your family wouldn’t have to face the consequences for what happened?” He hissed through his teeth.

“When will this end, Ben?” She inquired tiredly.

“The moment when you guys accept your fate. You escalated the situation in the first place.” He gestured with his hands the causality. “Escalation—consequences.”

“Someone’s looking at this from a very black and white agenda. We can end this right now. No one has to die for people to accept you as a formidable leader.”

Ben leaned towards you. “There’s no psychoanalyzing me while I’m threatening you. Give me what I want and maybe I’ll be a bit lenient with you.”

“That was you threatening? Do you know that your idea of threatening feels a lot like flirting?”

He covered his ears. “Don’t put words in my head, little demon.” Ben sighed. His eyes met the diner around the corner and instantly tried a more casual approach. “You hungry?”

You waved your arms. “Still just an emphatic illusion who can’t eat or drink like this.”

Ben smirked, hoping to tempt you a bit. “You could just come out with your real body, you know?”

“And have you kill me? That’d be difficult to do since I’m taking a bath right now.” Without waiting for him, you already walked ahead.

Ben lingered a few seconds, slightly distracted from the image you painted in his head. “Little demon,” he muttered before entering the diner after you. They took their seats by the window before he ordered himself a milkshake and a burger with some fries.

Ben decided to pick up the conversation where you left off. “What makes you think I want to kill you?”

You placed your arms on the table between you, leaning forward. “Then explain why you were following me.”

He shrugged. There were some things he didn’t want to consider what he would’ve done if he had encountered you for real.

“Are you sure you weren’t trying the same thing by kidnapping me … again? Your sister is safe, in case you were wondering. Well, more or less. Allison is not the safest bet. But Sloane has Luther keeping her safe at least.”

“Well, that doesn’t ease my mind, in case you were wondering. You people don’t have the best track record when it comes keeping your promises.”

“Right. Takes one to know one.”

He grumbled to himself before leaning back against the plastic cushions. He ignored the presence of the waitress who brought his order and felt himself frown at your expression.

“He says ‘thank you’,” you stated with a self-asserted air, eyeing the server before sending him a harsh glare.

“Thank you,” he murmured barely above a whisper.

The moment when she was gone, he could finally relax. Feeling grateful for the little moment of privacy again.

The smirk tugging on your lips didn’t set his mind at ease. “Just so you know, only you can see or hear me right now.”

Ben rolled his eyes at your little deceit. “Only me?”

“I would need to concentrate real hard to reach other people, but yes. I’m in your head, Ben,” you whispered huskily.

Ben dug into his burger, relishing in the taste and instantly noticing your expression. “Come on, I know you want to try this. Get out of that bathtub, dry yourself off and just have a taste.” He absolutely loved the idea of knowing something else about you which he could use to his advantage.

You eyed his ordered food with a gleam in your eyes. “As much as this is tempting, maybe I don’t trust you right now.”

He scoffed loudly. “And kill you in a diner? Don’t be ridiculous.” Ben rolled his eyes. He rubbed his stomach and mused, “Just look at this delicious milkshake.” His hand slid the drink to the middle, hoping to allure you with a small indulgence. “You forget, ever since you were with us Sparrows,” he crooned mockingly, “I know you love food.”

It surprised him when you just chuckled. “That’s your idea of torture? Should I feel flattered and special enough that I was noticed by the great Ben Hargreeves?”

Ben narrowed his eyes, scoffing. “Someone thinks so highly of themselves.”

“Of course you would say that.” You smiled knowingly, leaning your chin on your hands. “You like me.”

“Sure, keep talking, little Empath.”

A dreamy expression lingered on your face. “You do, it’s actually quite nice. I managed to tame the brooding Ben.”

“I’m not brooding,” he mumbled defensively under his breath.

“You are. And that’s why you like having me around. You enjoy my company. You know I’m the only one that doesn’t hold you to the standards as the rest of my family, or maybe even yours. You like being Ben, with no expectations. Asshole Ben, mean Ben.” You smiled with that wide smile on your face, almost happy at the thought. “Grumpy Ben.”

He shook his head, snorting. “Whatever. Just go bother someone else.”

You pouted. “Damn it. I was this close,” You pressed your fingers together. “To get over here.” With that, the illusion evaporated.

Ben felt the corners of his mouth twitch at your little moments of cheering him up before a titillating sensation started on his shoulder. Slowly, it went further towards his neck when he felt your hand stroking the sensitive skin.

“Stop that,” he grumbled. It was only half as fun if he couldn’t even see you.

You merely chuckle in response, letting your breath tickle against his ear.

Ben exhaled heavily when he closed his bedroom door behind him. After the shower he just had he dried off his hair with a towel and mindlessly threw it into the hamper in the corner. Ben pulled down his shirt until the material covered his torso and found his respite when he lied back on his bed, closing his eyes.

Sloane was back and they got the bodies of Alphonso and Jayme. So, that was a small win. If one could call it that. To gain their edge back, Ben passed on the ultimatum to the emo kid and the big ape. At least there were some good things that happened during this shitty day. Bumping into you kinda worked in his favor. Sometimes he wished he could get a better read on you when you didn’t wear your heart on your sleeve.

Ben exhaled heavily.

“So, this is your bedroom, huh?”

Ben felt like he was going insane. First, his mind wandered to you and now you materialized like that. He certainly hoped this wasn’t one of your abilities. To have someone think of you strongly enough and you would be conjured like a demon.

Ben opened his eyes, turning his head toward where your voice came from.

It felt like you were haunting him, Ben realized when he saw you sitting on the side of his bed, scrutinizing your surroundings. “It’s very you. Like the poster of yourself.” Your voice turned deeper, mocking him with your impersonation. “Hey, Ben. You’re absolutely awesome. Don’t listen to the others.”

Your eyes met the display of books near his bed, quietly chuckling. “And you called Marcus a nerd,” you commented with a normal voice again. “Someone’s an artist, huh? Aren’t you full of surprises?” As much as your delighted smile soothed him, Ben couldn’t take any chances. Before you could mock his means of recreation, Ben tried to divert your attention.

“What are you doing here?”

You shrugged, sending him a cheeky expression over your shoulder. “What? You chose to stalk me and I can’t return the favor?”

After your afternoon together, Ben could admit with recognition that if he narrowed his eyes just enough, he could see your figure almost emanate that golden shimmer. As you projected yourself across the city to play tricks on him again.

Ben sat up, not appreciating your little games to get to him. “This is different.”

You leaned forward with a glint in your eyes. “Why? Is this too personal for you?”

“You’re damn right it is. You don’t see me rifling through your stuff in that crappy hotel.”

You narrowed your eyes with understanding, smiling to yourself. “But you want to. You’re so weird, Ben.”

Why did he feel the need to defend himself? “It’s not weird. It’s called being vigilant and careful. And stop invading my head.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh please, you would know if I was in your head. You’re just such an easy person to read once you’ve deciphered all the little clues.”

Ben waved a hand, not needing the reality check that he was easier to analyze than you were. Not needing to know that you could use it to your own gain if you should choose to.

“Fine, you’ve made your point. Now leave.”

With an ease, you stroked your hair to the side. For a second, he hated himself for finding you beautiful with that dim lighting hitting you just right. Ben’s fingers itched to feel that graphite at his fingertips just from watching you. He saw the outline of a tattoo on the back of your neck and detected a few lines, feeling eager to get a better view to perceive it in all its splendor.

Ben cleared his throat, turning his head away.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I was just trying to tease you.”

A mocking smile grew on his lips. “Whatever, I don’t care. My command still remains. Now, shoo, evaporate. Whatever it is you do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus, you’re so grumpy in the evening. I thought your mood would be better, with Sloane being back, and everything.” You inched closer on your knees, intending to move away.

“You’re the one making me grumpy,” Ben snarled.

“Sure, I am.”

Ben narrowed his eyes, watching you try to scoot over the edge of his bed by picking the longer route. He groaned, throwing his head back.

“You’re so annoying.” Ben felt his abdominal muscles tense when your fingers held on to his stomach for support. He eyed the hands bracing against him, more surprised by the sensation of your touch than your willingness to get close to him.

Ben furrowed his brows while muttering quietly under his breath, “I thought you’re just an illusion.”

Wariness spread on your face. Probably wondering why he wanted you to stay. To be honest he didn’t know either. “I am.”

“Then why can I feel you?”

The shrugging of your shoulders seemed almost timid in nature.

“My body works in mysterious ways, Number Two. Let’s just say, I can make it as real as possible. Make you believe I’m touching you even when I’m not really here.”

There was something electrifying and addictive about being close to you. Once a greedy thought hit him, Ben leaned forward. His gaze was hypnotized by your mouth, finding it utterly tantalizing. He licked his lips before staring into your eyes again. “It’s Number One, actually.”

Ben was giving some seriously tempting vibes. His eyes gleamed darkly as he watched your face. You swallowed thickly, feeling his hands teasingly stroke your hips, almost like he was trying out the feel of your corporal form. You felt the tingling sensation from his touch, like the feeling was your own. It was like touching something real, but the surreal feeling still followed.

You eyed his luscious lips, whispering, “Pity. Kinda liked calling you Number Two.”

His breath exhaled against your lips. “I think you like calling me Ben more.”

“Sometimes I like you even more when you’re not talking at all,” you whispered, trying not to sever this spell you both were under. Hoping not to break this rare moment of this bond.

Something twinkled in Ben’s eyes with the spoken challenge that followed. “Then give it your best shot in shutting me up, little Empath.”

Everything inside you tingled like you were experiencing a new sensation. Stroking his cheek, you carefully traced the scar on his cheek, watching Ben’s pupils dilate until his eyes were pitch-black. Absolutely loving how dark his eyes could get. Ben almost mesmerized you with his ability to not turn away from you, silently watching your every move. You told yourself you were merely curious, to find out how this would feel like. To enhance your abilities. While your body laid in bed and your spiritual being was sitting in Ben’s lap, enjoying his ministrations.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, your lips met his. Involuntarily, your throat let out a whimpering sound, adoring the softness of his lips. You closed your eyes, opening your mouth to let your tongue dance with his.

There was a low rumbling sound in Ben’s throat. Your fingers stroked through his wet hair, massaging his scalp with your fingernails. His hands tightened around your waist, hiking up your shirt.

You heeded his silent command by unbuttoning your chemise until you were only clad in your bra underneath.

Impatiently, Ben yanked off his shirt, revealing his naked torso. While he showed his physique, he teased with a smirk, “You know, you could be here right now. Get out of that damn bathtub.”

“Not in a bathtub. I’m laying in bed right now.”

It could be said that Ben’s upper body was too distracting for his own good. You groaned, finding it hard to concentrate. “Why do you have to look so good?” You felt compelled to stroke his rippling abs, delighting a bit in his small groan and feeling it reverberate in your whole body.

Ben was seriously making it hard for you not to like him. Or at least his body did the work in making you feel something for him. The longer you rubbed Ben’s chest, your clit started to throb wantonly with need.

“You’re welcome.” Ben spoke huskily, smirking arrogantly. “Tell me what you’re wearing right now,” he said, losing his casual pants in the process.

You let yourself get swept away by him as you discarded your short pants down your legs. “Just in my underwear,” you teased with a small smile.

“Saucy minx.” Ben started chuckling arrogantly before pulling you close at the back of your head while pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips. “Are you touching yourself?” He panted against your mouth. A startled noise came from Ben’s throat when your hips rubbed teasingly against his crotch. You felt your sex clench when that sound shifted into a moan of appreciation.

You nodded. “Yes.” Feeling the hardness in his boxer briefs with every movement of your gyrating hips.

“Say you want me to touch you,” Ben whispered against your lips before letting them wander sensuously towards your neck, making you go crazy with want with every breath he emitted against your skin. Leaving wet kisses behind.

Oh God why did he have to entice you so bad?

A whimper released from your throat as you tried to relieve the pressure by rubbing against his hardening crotch. You nodded mindlessly.

“Use your words. Say please.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving him backwards until Ben snorted with laughter. With his unruly hair spreading on his pillows. His hands didn’t let go of your hips, instead let them roam and touch whatever he could get in contact with. Ben licked his lips and watched in fascination as your fingers unlatched one of his hands and slid it underneath your panties. Letting your wet juices coat his fingertips. Ben could only groan at the sensation of your arousal like it was some tangible proof for your carnal need towards him.

You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his neck while sucking on a sensitive spot. “Please, Ben Hargreeves, Number One, oh great Cthulu, just finger me.”

His fingers moved in circles around your swollen clit while his other hand kneaded your covered bottom, making you gasp and rub against him. Needing to feel more of him. Craving more of that delicious tug from your dripping cunt. You absolutely could stay in this moment forever with Ben’s fingers slipping beneath your panties and palming your butt.

“You know, I don’t feel very appreciated with your sarcasm,” Ben grumbled against your throat. To prove his point, he completely let go of you by placing his arms behind his head, relaxing further on the pillows. “Show me then. Maybe I’ll do you a favor later, if I feel like it.”

You rolled your eyes, unceremoniously dropping your panties. “You’re such an asshole.”

“As you keep telling me.” Ben drew out his hardened cock out of his boxer briefs, tucking the material around his waist. His gaze never left yours while he started massaging his member.

What a cheeky jerk he was for making you work for it.

Kneeling down at the edge of his bed, you made sure that Ben had a clear view while you drew circles on your clit. Just the debauchery of it all instilled you with a deeply sensual and gratifying sensation. You licked your lips, feeling your breathing pick up the longer you stared into his eyes.

Ben was enjoying your little show immensely and threw his head back while not losing sight of you. Your eyes zeroed in on his Adam’s apple when he swallowed. Ben smirked salaciously, breathing heavily. “But you like me.”

Keeping your eyes closed, you threw your head back. “Just stop talking.” You could only depend on your sense of hearing as Ben’s hard member made slippery noises while he kneaded it furiously. Feeling the heat in your body grow, you yanked down the straps of your bra until you were entirely nude.

The silent stare from Ben stopped you in your tracks, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

“Get over here,” Ben exhaled a breath. He dragged down his underwear, throwing it on the floor.

Slowly, you crawled over to him until you were sitting in his lap again, with your fingers sweeping his hair from his forehead. However, that content feeling which filled you at the touch he allowed was short-lived when Ben propelled you underneath him.

You gasped and your eyes widened at Ben’s unexpected move. Slinging your thighs around his waist, you let out a hum, enjoying the feeling of your legs rubbing against him. “Someone really can’t stand to be on the bottom, huh?”

“Be quiet,” Ben hissed before he slowly thrust inside you.

You sighed deeply, tightening your hands around his shoulders for support. A whimper released from your lips when Ben pulled you closer to him. With every single thrust, he slid even deeper when he held your legs against his chest.

The veins in Ben’s neck protruded with the exertion he committed, letting out quiet moans the more you clenched around him, losing yourself in the sensations of bliss. Not realizing that the spot where you touched him began to glow with golden energy,

Ben’s hips stuttered, clenching his fingers around your thighs. “Oh shit.” He opened his eyes in astonishment when in an almost serious voice, he said, “Do that again.”

You did it unintentionally. Licking your lips, you felt uncertain, having never done this before during sex. You gasped when Ben hit a certain spot, making your walls clench before your fingers brushed against his neck. Just like that your own emotions were bleeding into him, projecting your ecstatic state onto him. Enhancing those sensations tenfold for him.

You grew even wetter if that was possible once the sounds of Ben’s blissed-out groans hit your ears. Obscene sounds of your groans and bodies slapping together filled the room. Your sex clenched around him like a vice.

His hips faltered before he panted heavily. “Tell me you’re close.”

Throwing your head back, you nodded with a humming sound, pulling him close until Ben’s lips were on yours. Suddenly you felt your body shimmer with ecstatic energy before a soundless moan came out of your mouth. Warmth spread through your whole body.

As soon as your emerging orgasm erupted, your eyes adjusted to the changing surroundings of the hotel room your body was actually lying in and Ben’s bedroom. The illusion you tried to uphold kept flickering until your consciousness was pulled back underneath Ben.

The first thing you focused on was the sound of Ben groaning while his face contorted into a confused frown every time you flickered back to him.

You felt him pull out of you before something wet squirted against your skin when Ben ejaculated on his lower stomach. “Oh fuck.” Ben leaned back with exhaustion, trying to catch his breath.

You chuckled, relaxing next to him and enjoying the view of a Ben whose cheeks were heated from the strain and who stretched out his limbs, needing a few seconds before he would be himself again.

You laid down on your front, letting your fingers dance on his warm skin. And maybe—just a tad—you wished you could’ve had the real thing just now. “I like speechless Ben.”

Ben let out hoarse chuckles before he turned his body away to clean himself up with a tissue. He pulled up the sheet until it covered the two of you again. You still thought it was sweet of him despite the knowledge of not needing the added warmth.

Ben’s body language certainly was more at ease as his bones stretched out. He raked a hand through his messy hair and let out a sigh when he gave you an uncertain look. Ben opened his mouth to speak.

Before he could mess it all up, you shushed him by placing a finger above his lips. “Nuh uh, don’t ruin it. You were either going to say the sweetest thing ever or utter something hurtful just because you can’t handle intimacy.”

Ben was taken aback when you leaned towards him to have one last taste of him since this would remain a one-time thing.

The moment your lips were no longer on his, Ben shook his head before commenting, “You’re fucking confusing.”

Tagging: @cherryinsalemverse @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @lelaamela @kit-k4t

#steph writes #watchtowerindistress #ben hargreeves x you #ben hargreeves x reader #sparrow!ben x you #sparrow!ben hargreeves x reader #sparrow!ben hargreeves #sparrow!ben x reader #the empath and the eldritch horror

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kikimurphys · 3 months ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors (Part 13)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N.

Warnings: Blood.

The next week was a blur of early mornings and late nights on set, where you and Cillian crossed paths in heavy silence. The tension between you was almost unbearable. You were still fuming, nursing a sense of betrayal over what you saw as his cowardice. Yes, his career was at stake, but it felt like he owed you more than secrecy and vague reassurances.

One afternoon, Tori, your work friend, suggested grabbing lunch together. Over salads and sandwiches, you unloaded everything that had been weighing on you. You recounted the whirlwind romance, the intense arguments, and how you had ended things with Cillian, telling him to leave your apartment just days ago.

“I just don’t get him,” you said, absentmindedly pushing your salad around with your fork. “He says he loves me, but then he acts like he’s ashamed of us.”

Tori nodded sympathetically. “That’s a tough situation, but you have every right to feel the way you do. You deserve to be more than a secret.”

You let out a heavy sigh, a mix of frustration and sadness. “I know he’s trying to protect me, but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like he’s protecting himself.”

“That’s probably true,” Tori agreed. “But you’re doing the right thing by standing your ground. You need stability, especially now, with everything that’s coming.”

“Yeah. I think it’s just better this way, as co-parents,” you murmured. The idea of continuing a romantic relationship with Cillian felt like setting yourself up for more heartache, especially if he couldn’t make up his mind soon. Staying on good terms and focusing on raising the baby together seemed like the best path forward.

The conversation with Tori offered some comfort, but the emotional turmoil lingered. You threw yourself into your work, trying to push thoughts of Cillian aside, but it was getting harder. Every time you saw him on set, you couldn’t help but watch him. The way he talked with his hands reminded you of how those same hands used to trace every inch of your skin. The memories made your stomach flip, but you quickly shook them off, refocusing on your tasks. Passing him in the hallway, you avoided eye contact, unwilling to let him see how much you still missed him. Each night you came home to an empty bed, the exhaustion of the day weighing on you, and you couldn’t help but wish for the comfort of his presence. He was still part of your life, but not in the way you needed.

A few days later, you found yourself leaning over a table near the catering station, labeling costumes for next week’s shoots. You had woken up with a headache, a familiar discomfort that had been coming more frequently, and the nausea that you thought was behind you had returned with a vengeance.

Cillian, meanwhile, was having one of the worst weeks of his life. On top of the tension between you and the longing he felt for you and your baby girl, he was buried in meetings with producers and his lawyer. His ex, Siobhan, was making it difficult for him to see Max, resenting him for leaving her to raise their son alone. All Cillian wanted was to make things right, to get his life in order so he could be the man you needed.

That morning, he woke up thinking of you, as he had every day since the fight. He wondered how you were feeling, if you had any new symptoms, or if the baby had been moving. You were 23 weeks along, and your bump was growing more prominent by the day. Today, you felt especially pregnant—hungry, but everything made you nauseous, and your body was weighed down with exhaustion.

As Cillian walked down to grab a coffee, he spotted you bent over the table, engrossed in your work. You were wearing your reading glasses, and your hair was piled into a messy bun. He couldn’t help the rush of emotions—and desire—that surged through him at the sight of you, especially the way your leggings and tight sweater accentuated your growing belly. Coffee cup in hand, he approached you, his heart pounding with anxiety.

“Morning, Y/N,” he mumbled, taking a sip from his cup.

You straightened up too quickly, causing a wave of dizziness to wash over you. “Morning yourself,” you replied, placing a hand on the table for support.

“Whoa, you okay?” Cillian asked, his voice filled with concern as he placed a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded, though the dizziness lingered. “Yeah, just stood up too fast, I think.”

He frowned, worry etched across his face. “You sure? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine, Cill,” you reassured him, though your voice was softer than usual. “Just a bit tired.”

He nodded, sensing your exhaustion. “I actually wanted to talk to you. How about I pick you up after work?” he asked, his tone hopeful.

“Yeah, sure. Pick me up at 6,” you agreed, trying to keep your composure, but your nerves betrayed you. Why was it so hard to stay calm around him?

You attempted to return to your task as he walked away, but something suddenly came to mind. “Oh, actually,” you called after him, “I have to grab groceries for the week. I’ve run out of pickles.” You forced a smile, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so trivial.

Cillian chuckled, his expression softening. “I’d love to help you out.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to bother you with fruit picking,” you joked, trying to deflect your embarrassment.

“No, not at all. That’s what I’m here for, Y/N,” he said earnestly.

“Well, thank you, Cill. I’ll see you at 6?”

“See ya,” he smiled, walking away, leaving you with a mix of anticipation and anxiety.

Later that evening, you found yourself pushing a cart around the fruit and vegetable section, Cillian by your side. As you browsed through lettuces and spinach, the conversation turned to the holidays.

“So, are you going to Cork for Christmas?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Yeah, I plan to,” he replied, though there was a hint of frustration in his voice. “But I’d like to be with Max too, so I think I’ll go there for New Year’s.”

“And you?” he asked, glancing over at you as you reached for a head of lettuce.

“I was thinking of going home. I haven’t seen my family in ages, so I hope I can get away for at least a week,” you replied.

You had left London over four years ago after receiving a job offer on an actual movie set, a significant step up from organizing rich people’s closets. But Dublin, despite its opportunities, often left you feeling homesick. Your family was tight-knit, and being away made it difficult to stay connected. When you told them you were pregnant, they were thrilled but also concerned. They knew the challenges ahead, and they urged you to come back home so they could support you.

The thought of returning home had been on your mind a lot lately. Being a mother was going to be demanding, and you weren’t sure how you would manage it all on your own. The fear of doing this alone was what kept you up at night, gnawing at you, especially during quiet moments like these. You could feel Cillian watching you, as if he sensed your inner turmoil.

“Your family must be really excited to see you,” he said, his voice gentle, as if he was aware of the heaviness of your thoughts.

“Yeah, they are,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light, though the underlying worry was hard to mask. “My sister says she wants to see my belly. She’s probably going to love seeing me this fat,” you joked, gesturing to your growing bump.

Cillian chuckled, finding your self-deprecation endearing. To him, you looked even more beautiful now that you were carrying his child. “Oh yeah? How’s the bump doing?” he asked, glancing at your belly that seemed to grow a little more every day.

“Good. She’s been moving around a lot. I feel huge, though. Nothing fits anymore,” you replied, feeling a mix of discomfort and pride.

Cillian nodded, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence as you both browsed the endless rows of chocolates. Even after all the time you’d known each other, the tension from recent events still hung between you, making things feel uneasy.

“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” you finally broke the silence, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Just wanted to see how you both were,” he said, looking at you with sincerity, though you could sense there was more he wasn’t saying.

You gave him a skeptical look. “You could’ve texted me, you know,” you huffed, still feeling a bit of lingering frustration. “That’s what we agreed on. You don’t have to be here just to check in.”

“But I want to be here,” he said, stepping closer to you. “I don’t want to just text you or catch a glimpse of you at work.” He paused for a moment, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, but it sent your heart racing, and you felt the baby kick more vigorously, responding to your nervousness. “I want to be here. To help you with groceries, to satisfy your cravings. And I don’t want to push you—I know I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry for that. I just want to be there for you, Y/N.”

His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity behind them. You couldn’t deny how much you missed him, how much you craved his support and companionship. But there was still a part of you that was hesitant, unsure if you could fully trust him with your heart again.

“I know you want to be there,” you said softly, weighing your words carefully. “And I’m sorry I pushed you away, but let’s just… take things slow.”

Cillian nodded, understanding the caution in your voice. “Okay, let’s take things slow.”

As he drove you home, the conversation was light, easing some of the tension that had been between you. You mentioned that you had an appointment on Monday to get checked for gestational diabetes and asked if he wanted to come along.

“I’m not worried, really,” you assured him. “The midwife said it’s just a precaution.”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he replied, his hand reaching over to pat your knee gently. “I’ll be there.”

When you arrived at your apartment, Cillian insisted on helping you carry your groceries upstairs. As you walked up the stairs, he carried the heavier bags, making sure you didn’t have to strain yourself.

Once inside, you set the bags down on the kitchen counter. Cillian began unpacking the groceries without hesitation, handing items to you as you put them away. The simple domesticity of the moment felt oddly comforting, even with everything unresolved between you.

“Thanks for helping out,” you said, smiling at him as you placed the last of the groceries in the fridge.

“Of course,” he replied, returning your smile. “It’s the least I can do.”

As you both finished up, the atmosphere in the apartment felt warm but still tinged with the unspoken complexities between you. He lingered for a moment, seeming hesitant to leave.

“I guess I’ll head out,” he said finally, his voice soft. “But I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah, Monday,” you nodded, walking him to the door.

Before he left, Cillian turned back to you, his expression tender. “Goodnight, Y/N. Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Goodnight, Cill,” you replied, feeling a small warmth in your chest at his concern. “Drive safe.”

With a final smile, Cillian stepped out into the hallway, and you closed the door behind him, leaning against it for a moment as you processed the evening. The feelings you had for him were still strong, but you shook them off as you made your way to the kitchen to put the kettle on. The uncertainty of your romantic relationship weighed on you, but you knew one thing for sure—Cillian could be trusted with this child and with you if anything ever went wrong.

Later, as you brushed your teeth, you noticed a small streak of blood in the sink. It wasn’t the first time—bleeding gums were a common symptom during pregnancy, something you’d read about online. Still, it gave you pause for a moment before you continued with your nighttime routine.

Rubbing some oil on your growing belly, you reflected on your pregnancy so far. You’d been fortunate—no complications, and everything had been progressing normally. You hoped with all your heart that things would continue this way for the remaining weeks. As you laid down that night, you whispered softly to your baby, feeling her tiny kicks in response. “Stay safe in there, my love,” you murmured, your hand resting on your belly. “I love you so much.”

Meanwhile, Cillian lay awake in his own bed, staring at the ceiling. He missed you terribly, and the regret gnawed at him. He knew he’d made mistakes, been unfair, and caused you pain. But he also knew how much you loved him, and he was determined to prove to you that he could be the man you deserved—the father his daughter deserved. He’d made his share of mistakes with Max, but he was resolute not to repeat them this time. He owed you that much.

After only a few hours of sleep, you were jolted awake by a sharp, stabbing pain in your stomach, like a cramp. Panic surged through you as you instinctively grabbed your belly, trying to calm yourself. Reaching over to turn on the bedside light, you lifted the covers, and your heart dropped at the sight—blood staining the sheets beneath you.

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason

#cillian fic #cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

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m0rbidmacabre · 8 months ago

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The Offering

Summary:

Vessel, a character tormented by his inner pain and trauma, seeks solace in sleep, personified as a deity. Despite his suffering becoming increasingly visible to his bandmates, Vessel struggles to communicate his feelings, even to his closest friend, III. After a particularly distressing encounter with the 'voice of sleep', Vessel and III decide to forego band practice, opting for silence and comfort instead.

Notes:

dipping my toes into the world of Sleep Token - This is probably going to end up being pretty dark but for now, enjoy some loving cuddles and angst.

The Offering

Chapter 1

ao3 link

Sleep is a deity that lives inside us all, they are a mirror of our emotional connection to the world around us. Our pain, trauma, love, healing. What they are not is a healer, a helper, a friend. They reflect your inner subconscious. They only have the power we give to them; they represent the worst and the best parts of who we are as humans.

Vessel had been within sleeps grasp for as long as he could remember, he worshipped the deity that had promised him salvation, hoping that one day his insufferable pain would vanish, that his trauma would be healed. Although Vessel’s pain was much more apparent now, not only to himself, but to his fellow band mates. it plagued him, his black cloud of pain... It was constantly in his skyline.

Vessel was sat in the dark, his mind unable to rest, his head swimming in the dreams that had just plagued him.

“Do you think it will ever stop? Do you think it will ever go away…” Vessel spoke out into the night, his head in his hands as the sweat from his nightmares oozed out from his pores.

“Soon proselyte… first you must show your true strength... you must prove that your ascension will be worth it” a voice answered him. It echoed through the room, reaching only Vessel's mind. His heart began racing and his palms grew sweaty as he heard the voice of sleep.

“You answer me now?!” Vessel shouted

“I cried for help, over and over... you've ignored me... FOR MONTHS. All I want is for the pain to go away…I'll do anything you ask. Please, Sleep. Help me...”. Vessel's voice breaking as he confesses his desperation to the deity. His tears spilling down his face as the room fell to silence.

The darkness held it’s claws closer to Vessel's throat longer than he admitted to his band mates, he was never one to make them worry, he wanted them to look up to him, to follow him like he follows sleep, but his lack of rest was becoming visible, his irritation showing.

The day light crawled through the curtains and so did the tap to vessels door.

“Yeah…” Vessel rolled over to face the door, still lying in bed... His brain not once finding peace.

III walked into the room “Hey Ves, are you okay? We’ve got to practise this afternoon”.

“I’m fine, I just… I don't know” he shook his head burying it into his arms.

“Hey, it’s okay. We understand. This is all new for all of us… you have a lot on your plate… we are in this together” III said as he slid onto the bed next to Vessel enveloping him into his long arms.

Vessel leaned into III letting his arms wrap around him, taking in his sweet scent of his shampoo. Strawberries. He felt safe here, in the arms of someone who loved him, who kind of understood his traitorous path. III was always more than a good friend, he was his go to person. III pattered Vessel with kisses, as vessel felt the tears beginning to fall. The tiniest sob making its way out of his mouth as III pulled him in tighter.

“You don’t have to pretend with me Ves, I got you” III said III softly, trying to encourage his friend to bare his soul to him.

Vessel didn’t reply, he didn’t say a word... He didn’t like to look weak, even to the people he loved… no explanation was offered for how he was feeling. As always Vessel closed himself off, even to his band mates. He just sat quietly wrapped around III, the room quickly falling back to silence as they held each other. III placed a kiss on Vessel’s forehead, as he sat back on the bed, pulling vessel and the blanket with him.

“Maybe we should call off band practice today…Stay in bed… you don’t seem yourself” he whispered.

Vessel just nodded his continual silence, leaving his opinions out of it, he knew full that band practise was important, but today... After hearing sleep talk to him last night... He just wanted to be in silence, to hear that voice reply over and over in his head. He was sure he was going to lose his mind.

“I tell you what, I’ll get the others.... let’s get cozy and watch something shall we? What about pizza? ” III said to Vessel hoping for a more reasonable answer.

“Okay...” Vessel agreed, always the quiet type. III smiled. Vessel may only have just agreed with his idea, but it made it his day that his friend was opting to spend time with them overspending time alone.

“Okay, okay, okay.... wait here. I’ll go get everything ready. It’s going to be amazing Ves.” III kissed Vessel on the forehead and got to his feet like a dangly puppy dog that hadn't grown into his overgrown legs yet.

Vessel sat in silence, alone once again in his room. The quietness only brought his thoughts back to sleep, his mind racing as if sleep was still inside his head, poking around... Prodding at his life force from the inside. His mind flashing memories of his past that he had long tried to leave behind him, he wrapped the blanket III had left around him. The smell of his strawberry shampoo still lingering, bringing him comfort while he was alone. If his band mates only knew just how much he needed them, they were his inner circle, his protection from himself. The only people who knew who the real Vessel was. The world would never get to meet him, not really... Not truly, they see his mask. A mere projection of what they want to see. They never see the true person he is, and that's how Vessel liked it. He wanted to spread the message of sleep, spread words of hope... spread the feeling of pain that he had felt within himself through his stories. Not to heal others pain, no... but a way to heal his own. It was selfish in a way, a way for him to get over his own trauma that haunted him, a reflection that could heal him and bring him closer to his deity...

“VES, VES, you coming out? We've picked a movie...” III shouted.

Vessel lifted his head out of his arms, where he had tucked himself up in thought. He unwrapped himself slowly, each limb creaking and cracking as if he was older than the deity he serves. Keeping III’s blanket firmly wrapped around him as he stood.

“Coming... Coming...” He shouted back to III.

He walked out of his bedroom and into the living room, II, III and IV already sat around on a mismatch of blankets and pillows that III had laid out for them. It looked like a small fort had taken over the living room with the tv as its centre piece. III had made a little cozy den for them all to hang out in, III was forever the one that made sure the others were looked after and he never ceased to surprise Vessel with how kind and caring he was. Vessel just stood at the door, looking at them... their gazes drifting to Vessel, shiny smiles firmly adorned their faces. He smiled back, a welcomed smile from the torture of his own mind.

“WELL, come on... were waiting for you....” II tapping the spot between him and III with a laugh, as Vessel just stood looking at them all, as if it was a picture he didn't want to lose.

Vessel laughed back, an awkward smile appearing. He climbed over a pile of legs and arms, finding the perfect spot between all three of his band mates. Sitting down with crossed legs. It took only a moment before they were all interlocked, tangled in a sweet form of comfort. Each touching the other. Each knowing that through the pain and trauma... they always had each other.

Notes:

Find me on Socials: Tumblr: @m0rbidmacabre X: @M0rbid_Macabre Instagram: @morbid.macabre Facebook: Morbid Macabre

#sleep token vessel #sleeptokenworship #sleep token #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token band #sleep token iv #sleep token worship #sleep token fanfiction #sleep token fic #ao3 writer #ao3feed #ao3 fanfic

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beechersnope · 1 year ago

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Summer of Cum Days 16/17/18: snowballing, precome, come slut

lance/fernando, includes girl lance, facefucking, and an imbalanced sexual relationship, 1105 words

***

Every time they do this, it feels like the worst decision Fernando has ever made in his life. It should be a difficult list to top, but somehow, they manage. Sometimes he thinks that bad decisions are all he’s good at anymore.

“Slower,” Fernando tells her, his lips straining around each syllable. It’s never been so hard to remember English as it is when he’s with Lance. “Stay still. Let me do it.”

Lance is on her elbows and knees in her hotel bed. Her bed, because if Fernando ever allowed her in his, he knows she’d never leave. She’s naked, her skin slicked with sweat despite the air conditioner set as low as it’ll go. Lance always runs hot.

Fernando’s cock has been in her mouth for what feels like an hour. It probably hasn’t been that long, because whenever they do this, Lance gets so worked up that she can’t help but get a hand between her clit and the mattress to make herself come with Fernando’s dick down her throat—she knows by now that Fernando won’t do it for her no matter how many times she asks—and so far, they have yet to reach that part of the evening.

“Slow,” Fernando says again as he strengthens his grip on her high ponytail, her thick, dark hair like a length of rope in his fist. He pulls her down, nice and steady, until she has no choice but to swallow around him, her nostrils flaring as the tip of her nose nudges against his pelvis.

Fernando likes it best when it’s like this, when he has her looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He knows what she wants, that if Lance got her way, he’d be fucking her through the mattress until she can’t walk. Or maybe riding him, using his cock to get herself off over and over until he can’t take anymore.

But she’s young, still, and she needs to learn self-control. She’s too clingy, too needy, wants everything all the time. She doesn’t know how to appreciate the things she has that’ll one day be gone.

“Good,” Fernando says encouragingly as Lance finally relaxes under his hands. He slowly draws his cock back out, letting her take a breath, staring at the potent mix of precome and saliva dripping from her mouth, keeping her tethered to his cock as she gasps for air. “Again.”

He’s rougher this time, fucking her face, her throat until she gags, until there’s spit pouring out of her mouth onto the duvet. She takes it. She takes all of it, everything he has to give her, and Fernando has to force himself to slow down again when she stares up at him with watery brown eyes, lashes clumping together with the beginnings of tears.

Fernando wants to touch her, wants to slap her ass, flip her onto her back so he can mouth at her breasts. He wants to come in her pussy, again and again and again. Lance makes him feral, like he could lose his mind. She isn’t the only one who needs discipline, a firm hand.

Like this, they’re on the knife’s edge. Fernando has a duty to them both to keep them from falling off.

He pulls back again. Lance sucks in a sharp breath and reaches up with one hand to grab for his cock. Fernando quickly swats it away.

Lance’s eyes go dark. “I want to make you come,” she tells him, practically throwing a tantrum about it already, though that’s usually the sort of thing that precedes these meetings, rather than occurring during the main event.

“No,” Fernando says simply before fucking back into her mouth again. That’s another advantage of doing it this way. Less talking.

If Fernando was more honest with her—himself, too—they wouldn’t do this at all. There are only two viable paths to choose from: he could quit, and get on his knees for Lance instead; or he could quit, and cut ties with her altogether.

Fernando has, stupidly, chosen to stay.

Lance stares up at him balefully as he slowly slides into the back of her throat again. He’d asked her once what his come tasted like. She’s fascinated by it, delighted even. Never stops talking about how much she loves that he gets so wet for her, that she can taste it as soon as he’s inside her mouth. She swallows every time, his cock so deep inside her that Fernando sometimes wraps a hand around her neck just to feel the slight swell of himself in her throat.

He wants to taste her just as badly, but he’ll never tell.

Fernando thinks about denying her again when he feels himself getting close. Maybe for the fourth time, or the fifth. It’s easy to lose count.

He fucks her even harder instead, his free hand coming up to cradle her cheek, her jaw as he uses her. She struggles to stay upright as she wriggles a hand under herself, the way he’s come to expect. Her tits bounce with every thrust, hard, dark nipples dragging against the mattress.

She’s so beautiful, Fernando thinks, and then he pulls almost all the way out so he can come with just the head of his cock pressed against her tongue.

They stay there like that for a long moment, and then finally, Fernando pulls out. Lance doesn’t say anything when he drops down onto his knees with a pained grunt so he can kiss her. It’s only when she shoves her tongue into his mouth that he realizes why, the sharp brine of his come still thick like batter when she gives it back to him.

It doesn’t feel spiteful, though Fernando thinks that it probably should. If Lance were smarter about all this, maybe it would be. If she were better at playing games.

Lance’s face is radiant when he opens his eyes, their mouths disconnecting with a wet smack. Fernando swallows himself down and sees her see it, watches her smile.

It’s too genuine. He wants to look away. He doesn’t.

He should ask her if she came. He should make her come. He doesn’t.

“When are you gonna fuck me?” Lance asks with a faux pout that doesn’t fully engulf her wry smile. She flops over onto her back and starfishes out on the bed, letting out a wistful sigh before letting her hands drift back down between her thighs. She’s almost absent-minded about it. Not teasing, at all. “Like, actually fuck me?” she wonders.

Never, Fernando thinks to himself. He has to draw a line somewhere.

#summerofcum2023 #f1 smut #f1 rpf #strollonso #my fic #girl lance because i love a tall queen #also at this point i think i am pretty much committed to doing a different pairing for every fill #so feel free to try and influence me into writing your faves

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archivalofsins · 8 months ago

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Kotoko's first question is so boring- my god... Despite that I still have a good deal to say on it. So, let's get into it.

What's your ideal image of a hero?

Literally, what does that have to do with anything,

"Oh well she brings up heroes in her song a lot."

Okay, fine, whatever. My problem is the whole ideal thing. Firstly, ideals are things that are simply not realistic.

Ideal

Satisfying one's conception of what is perfect; most suitable.

Existing only in the imagination; desirable or perfect but not likely to become a reality.

Meaning this is just what she would want it to be not the reality. The only thing interesting about her answer is that depending on how it's translated she's literally just describing Es.

Something that isn't new either because the first translation of Deep Cover in the MILGRAM/Song of Prisoners- The Second Trial Trailer highlighted that already by having the lyrics as,

"So, I became your fang. I've chosen the awaited hero."

Not having her say she's become the awaited hero but she's chosen the the awaited hero. The person that seems to embody those ideals. The official translation of Deep Cover adds more nuance to the song by making this line less direct.

Instead making it,

"That’s why I became your fangs as the long-awaited hero."

Leaving it up to interpretation whether Kotoko is referring to Es or herself. Yet that ambiguity is not present in the translation they have not changed from the second trial songs trailer. Where she just downright states she's chosen the awaited hero. Meaning the hero isn't her and never was.

Making this question at best only serve to reiterate something that had already been expressed not only implied in the official translation but bluntly stated in the first one we got.

The second issue is these are the types of ideals she looks for in a hero. She has never said she's wanted to be a hero or that she even strives to uphold or adhere to the image that she considers ideal of heroes. It's not like this question was what sort of hero do you strive to be what are morals you live by.

Because we asked that second question-

Q.12 What is your motto?

Kotoko: “There’s no other way that could let us live, so I walk this path.” [TN: Quote from Mushanokouji Saneatsu.]

This answer may just literally be disconnected from her as a person entirely. I personally believe that it is but everyone else is free to believe whatever they want. I don't know I guess it's kind of good to have this reiterated plainly but it's not anything new to me.

I guess the most interesting thing is the different ways it can be translated.

Something, @doctorbunny brought to my attention earlier.

Which is the thing that made me go well she's just describing Es. Someone who aids the weak i.e agrees with those who they believe had very little options but to do the things they did. Such as the people they found innocent and discourages the strong or self-assured like with the people they found guilty.

The people they found guilty were the most committed to their decisions. Showed little issue with or anxiety over their actions and some still rightfully don't. Like Amane. If that's her definition of the strong she's a part of the strong.

Q.03 Do you think any other prisoners who committed the same sin as you deserve to be forgiven?

Kotoko: Of course. Haven’t I already said that I believe my actions have been correct?

Q.13 Do you have any regrets?

Kotoko: No.

Something that she's never done a thing to hide. She literally separates herself from the weak in her second trial voice line.

"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"

So, at best this just shows nothing new because she's exactly the same and may probably never change or at worst downright displays she does not consider herself a hero or weak.

Something that is subtly highlighted in her second voice drama. When she again separates herself from Es and other people with those idealized mindsets from herself as being unwilling to do what is necessary to truly get what they claim to be seeking.

Yonah

How ridiculous… It's always like this… All of you weaklings always act like this… All of you enjoy seeing someone getting hurt… Might be so. All of you enjoy seeing a bad person falling down… Can't deny. You keep asking for it, but as soon as it happens near you by your own choice, you all start complaining and evading your responsibility… You're always like this… Always such idiots! I acknowledge it. You're the strong one, and we're weak. You're right. But that's how we are.

Es, even downright stating that she's strong. Something that Kotoko does not dispute. In fact she actively agrees with that statement.

You have no power, and yet you make no effort to gain it! You're talking about justice, but it just doesn't make sense! You're invested in people's disasters, yet you take a position of "I have nothing to do with it"! You can't even face your true selves! Whatever you say. If you brag about hating evil, act against it! Carry on the belief that your actions can change this world! If you only brag about it from afar, the world will just continue to rot no matter how many of you are there! If you don't have strength on your own, let me take care of it, Es! I can do it in MILGRAM!

Because she's strong and does have power she can do it.

Q.18 Have you ever personally been persecuted in the past?

Kotoko: I haven’t. But are you trying to say that if you haven’t had those experiences, you can’t hate evildoers?

Because she doesn't hold herself to the same limitations as those weaklings that believe in those heroic ideals. She can walk the path necessary to get to the desired outcome. Because the means don't matter.

Q.15 Which is more important, the objective or the means?

Kotoko: Objective. Does that not go without saying?

Only the outcome does; useless weaklings holding onto silly moral rules like not hitting children- Should let her handle it if they don't have the stomach for it.

Ah, about that... My apologies. I couldn't give enough pain to Kayano Mikoto and Momose Amane. ..! You..! I attacked everyone in order, but because of the interference caused by Kayano Mikoto and Mukuhara Kazui, who was protecting Kajiyama Fuuta, I couldn't finish it properly. But I was still able to do some damage. After attacking Shiina Mahiru, I had no time left for Momose Amane. You've planned... on attacking Amane too? That's right. You haven't forgiven her, so wouldn't it be justified? But she's just a child... So what? This "child" is kept here because she murdered a person, isn't she? Right... You thought I won't attack her because of the young age? Sorry for disappointing you. It's all because of my lack of strength.

It wasn't because of Amane's age she just lacked the strength to do it. It was all because Mikoto and Kazui intervened. Kotoko bluntly admits that stating she attacked the prisoners in order and stating that Mikoto interfered. Not that she attacked him.

Meaning this is more than likely what occurred.

Kotoko attacked Futa- Kazui intervened then probably went to Shidou to request help after Kotoko fell back. Not really expecting her to attack anyone else. This would explain why Kazui said this to Shidou on Amane's birthday-

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately. Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday. I’m just getting a bit sentimental. Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best. Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

It would also explain his statements on being too slow when it came to Kotoko attacking Mahiru. Something Kotoko blatantly admits to doing and I have no reason to believe she'd lie about. If he was looking for Shidou that would explain why it took him a bit and why Mahiru was able to get treatment so quickly.

Just gotta emphasize again that Kotoko states that Mikoto interfered so got the jump on her this time. So while Kazui was attempting to find Shidou, Mikoto more than likely intervened in the midst of Kotoko attacking Mahiru or heading for Amane. Which would explain why he tells her this.

22/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)

Mikoto: Ah, Koto-chan. It’s been a while Both of us have kinda split off from the group, but how’ve things been? A lot’s happened, but for now let’s try to get along. I mean, it’s your birthday today, right? I got the feeling nobody else was going to do anything, so I came to celebrate. Kotoko: ……how carefree. It doesn’t matter, a villain like you won’t be forgiven next time either. And when that time comes, it’ll be the end for you. I’ll make sure of it myself. Mikoto: Ahh?? Just try and do it, you nutjob. I’ll crush anyone who hurts me…… You’re gonna be totally beaten at your own game……! [TN: The word “me” here uses first person pronoun “boku”.] Kotoko: Hm. The border between the two is getting a lot vaguer. Your entire existence is a crime. And I will see you’re punished for it. That is what Milgram, and Es, and I have chosen.

Mikoto stating a lot has happened but let's get along for now. Again showing he knows that something has occurred but is being vague about it. Given she says Mikoto interfered she was not directly attacking him when he did. Which is very funny considering he just used payback and went about his day.

He saw her attacking someone like he was when she attacked him in his first voice drama and went hey how do you like it. Then she said not at all. She admitted in her voice drama that it was disruptive and stopped her from completing what she set out to do which is why she's so mad during that birthday interaction.

Meaning Kotoko more than likely doesn't have that much access to verdicts and was simply going off of her own observations when it came to discerning who was guilty as displayed over the course of the portal timelines during trial one.

21/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)

Haruka: Ah…… H-happy birthday, Kotoko-san. Kotoko: ……thanks. You’ve definitely changed a bit. Do you remember before? You could barely even talk to me. Haruka: I-is that so? Now that you mention it, I, I maybe have got a bit better since then. ……m-maybe I’ve got more used to being around people. There’s other people here who are interested in me, and, um, in particular Mu-san pays a lot of notice to me…… I… I’m enjoying myself here…… Kotoko: ……hmm. It’s just a theory I have right now, but I get the feeling the outcome of Milgram’s judgements are having some influence on our mental state. Well, I only noticed because I happened to be last up though. Good for you, then. This must mean that you’re fine. ……I’ll accept those birthday wishes.

21/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday)

Shidou: ……oh, Yuzuriha-kun. It’s unusual so see you around this early. Wishing me a happy birthday…… probably isn’t the what you’re here for, huh. Kotoko: No, it is. Happy birthday, Shidou. Though it’s not like I bought you a present or anything. But while I’m here, I’d also like to ask you something. Has anything changed for you recently? Having nightmares, hearing voices, feeling anxious…… anything like that. Shidou: Not especially, no. ……ah, so this is about how Kajiyama-kun and Shiina-kun have been strange recently? And she’s been trying to hide it, but Amane too…… We’ve been living in these conditions for a while…… it’s not unusual for there to be an impact on us mentally. Are you worried about them? You’re a very caring person. Kotoko: Hmm, so you noticed? If nothing’s wrong with you, then that’s good. ……if I’ve understood properly, that means you’re safe……Once again, happy birthday, Kirisaki Shidou.

Even though Shidou just lists off all the guilties for her... He does point out that regardless it doesn't mean much especially considering their circumstances. It just wouldn't be odd for people to get more stressed out in this situation after a certain point. This is why in her voice drama she asks for confirmation from Es that Amane was guilty because she really didn't know she just fucking guessed for all of them and acted anyhow. At least she was right.

I mean some people could have just been having a bad time and been innocent like Yuno but still could have gotten jumped based on her logic. So, it's more likely that she didn't base what she did on guilty percentage but just prisoner number.

Apologies for the tangent. Ultimately Kotoko states she can do it within Milgram because she's already done the same thing outside of it. She knows she can do it. That she's no weakling like the rest. She's strong so-

Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!

All the people who aren't should just stay out of her way. The awaited hero will be someone who can help the weak and discourage the strong. Someone who can see that what she did was right. Someone who understands because they're human after all but also someone committed enough to not let their emotions get the best of them. Someone who can-

Say that sympathy is useless.

And

Hate evil as the evil that it is.

Someone like Es who states they won't go easy on someone just because they're a friend. In Futa's second voice drama. Someone who's choices have caused those they've disagreed with immense mental anguish. That some have stated was worst than being physically beat up.

Causing them to keep hearing voices telling them that they were wrong while feeling constantly watched and judged. Causing them to feel insecure, anxious, and waver in their beliefs or dissociate. Something Kotoko states she's recognized in her second voice drama and that it isn't much better from her physicially injuring them.

That's why when I saw this answer I immediately thought she was describing Es.

Still this answer shows that Kotoko doesn't really care what type of violence is used to crush/dissuade the strong be it physical or emotional/mental. As long as someone can do that and is aiding who she believes to be the weak that's a hero in her book. It's quite funny that no one has asked her to define who she considers to be the weak. Yet, I doubt that would look as good as having her repeat her very barebones explaination on the good/evil, strong/weak dichotomy she's created.

This elicited a very wow tell me something I don't know response.

Q.20 What do you consider “evil”?

Kotoko: The persecution of the weak and innocent.

Q.16 How do you feel about extenuating circumstances?

Kotoko: I think it’s important to consider. I don’t believe it’s true that all crime is inherently evil, so obviously the situation should be taken into account.

Because the weak and innocent in Kotoko's eyes doesn't just equal someone that is objectively good or an individual being persecuted unjustly. The meaning changes based on the circumstance. Something I find funny because she can be so specific when it fits her needs but continues to describe these things with such subjective language and very little detail. That's odd to me and makes it difficult for me to not go well great here's some more shit we already knew.

Literally if she did what Kazui did with that one questions that would have been more interesting.

#milgram #kotoko yuzuriha

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epicsteddieficrecs · 2 years ago

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Epic Steddie Fic Rec: Chapter 5 (December 31st, 2022)

I really need to get back into the habit of making these weekly recaps *weekly* or else... this is what happens. I post shit late lol.

Complete

Mutual Future by knell (Post-S4 Fix It | 40K | Explicit): two dudes navigate their feelings in the most normal way possible.

hold me now, i need relief by ToEdenandBackAgain (Post-S4 Fix It | 25K | Mature): It’s probably going to go down in history as the worst kiss Steve Harrington ever got, but Eddie doesn’t give a fuck. He isn’t going to get another chance so he’s working with what he’s got. It’s less of a kiss, and more of a slide of lips, wet with blood and tears but he feels Harrington’s grip tighten on the back of his shirt and he pulls back. He reaches up with the hand he can still feel and pushes back a strand of hair that had fallen in Steve’s face, smearing blood along his temple as he does. “Sorry. Couldn’t die without knowing what that felt like.”

🖤 And I Knew (in the Crystalline Knowledge of You) by PippinPips/ @majesticfaequeenpips (Practical Magic AU | 28K | Mature): At a young age, Eddie casts a spell to never fall in love in an attempt to save himself from future debilitating heartbreak. Of course magic always finds a way to work. When a single father moves to town Eddie never expected to really cross paths with the man. As fate would have it, he does. He gets so much more than he bargained for.

Eddie Munson and the Dreamboy by pukner/ @pukner (Post-S4 | 8K | Not rated): Or, five times El and Eddie find a version of Steve Harrington while traversing his mindscape to drag him out of a coma (thanks, Vecna). And one time Steve finds Eddie.

🖤 you can take the heart from your chest to use as a compass when you are lost by fragilecapric0rn/ @flashyysins (Modern AU | 29K | Mature): Thanksgiving 2009. Steve, who is about to host the brood of children (who somehow aren't children anymore) in a cabin for the long weekend, after a semi-bad week, all while batting off Dustin's attempts at playing matchmaker and dodging phone calls from his mother. And at some point some strange man on the internet broadcasts his worst public moment for the other Craigslist freaks to see. What could go wrong? Or right? (Part 1 of Missed Connections)

the worst time for the best case scenario by fragilecapric0rn/ @flashyysins (Modern AU | 2K | Not Rated): He briskly walks down the aisle before so he can walk in the guy’s direction on the other side and as he turns down, he realizes he fucked up. Oh my god, is that a black eye? Oh my god, he’s hot. Oh my god, he’s crying. (Part 2 of Missed Connections)

i would wait anyway by poesidone/ @gonzocoded (Future Fic | 8K | Teen): Eddie's back in town after six years of traveling the country looking for himself. Upon his return, he's forced to confront the consequences of an impulse decision he'd made before leaving and the fact that, apparently, Steve Harrington now inexplicably owns a bakery called Flour Power.

you're the singer and i'm the song by ruinations (PWP, Trans Eddie | 4K | Explicit): After hearing a rumor that Steve's fantastic at eating pussy, Eddie asks Steve to prove it to him. Steve is more than happy to oblige.

the circus music playing on loop in my mind is being overpowered by the disco from the next room over by fragilecapric0rn/ @flashyysins (Canon Divergent | 3K | Mature): “What the fuck are you doing here?” He nearly squawked, meaning for it to come out anyway other than that. The man turned around, and here he was. In a stare down with ghostly pale Steve Harrington, who was not only supposed to be straight, but was also in a MESH TANK TOP at Frankie’s on a Wednesday night. “What the fuck are you doing here?” He pauses, glancing around the room, small voice. “It’s disco night.” (Part 1 of who knew the aftermath could taste this sweet?)

i know it's hard. but when you accept it, it'll feel like flying. by fragilecapric0rn/ @flashyysins ( | 6K | Teen): Steve thinks he's finally getting a night alone with Eddie, but Will Byers has other plans. (Part 2 of who knew the aftermath could taste this sweet?)

words caught in my throat (who talks first?) by fragilecapric0rn/ @flashyysins (Future Fic, Getting Back Together | 12K | Explicit): Steve and Eddie get snowed in together. Emotional constipation and all the things left unsaid are also in attendance.

Seasons change, but people don't. by hotluncheddie/ @hotluncheddie (Canon Divergent, Pre-S4 | 6K | Mature): Eddie's scalp is prickling and he’s had the worst fucking day, okay? His stupid math and science teachers are in kahoots, he knows it. His grades are too low, he cant make it up and they don’t like him so there's no way out. He’s not graduating. Again. He has to repeat senior year. Again. And the added layer to his shit cake of a day? King Steve wants to buy from him. Today, right now. Oh ho ho is he gonna get overcharged sooo bad. Seeing as eddie has to postpone his wallowing to wait at his stupid little bench in the stupid woods behind the stupid school. Or: three times steve asks eddie to stay, plus one time he finally does.

defrost by Adure/ @toburnup (Enemies to Lovers, PWP | 9K | Explicit): Eddie hates Steve, for the most part. And now they're stranded in the middle of nowhere. And it's snowing.

won't be the same, dear, if you're not here with me by judasofsuburbia/ @judasofsuburbia (Post-S4 Fix it, Dreamsharing | 9K | Teen): Steve doesn’t want to ask this. He knows this is just a dream (or an upcoming nightmare). Something that’s made to feel real but isn’t. Still, he asks, “Are you actually alive?” Eddie glances up at him. His big, brown eyes are shimmering with naive, joyful hope. “You tell me, big boy.” or: five times steve harrington dreams of eddie munson and the one time reality feels like a dream.

didn't think that it'd take dying (to finally feel like i'm okay) by tak_cajaz (Post-S4 Fix It | 9K | Teen): Or, Eddie thought he was dead, so it didn't matter that he spilled his secret to the pretty angel taking him to heaven.

🖤 off the beaten path by pukner/ @pukner(Canon Divergent, Pre-S4, Autistic Steve & Eddie | 34K | Explicit): Or, post season 3, Steve manages to figure out that he's bisexual, despite his best efforts to repress it, comes out to Robin and Jonathan Byers of all people, and figures himself out. Also, there's a cute guy who might be actually insane running the kids' dnd club and he's got his eye on him. And his bandana. Too bad Eddie Munson hasn't had a similar revelation. He's still under the impression that he's a straight man obsessing over Steve Harrington for normal, extremely heterosexual reasons. OR: Steve figures out he's bi before Eddie figures out that he's gay. Eddie still manages to fall first. (Part 1 of off-script)

no boys allowed by pukner/ @pukner (Canon Divergent | 7K | Not Rated): Robin Buckley has her very first Girls' Day. She gets her hair braided, consoles her heartbroken best friend, and everyone muddies the water a bit on the exact definition of what a Girl is. Steve Harrington has a good cry about Eddie Munson. (Part 2 of off-script)

that'd be the end of the last man on earth by pbandjeremiah/ @pbandjeremiah (Future Fic, Parent Eddie | 9K | Mature): eddie munson and his two adorable daughters sit next to steve on a flight from san francisco to chicago. a lot changes in those four hours.

Crimson and Clover by Plastiktramps (Canon Divergent, Pre-S4, PWP | 4K | EXPLICIT): Or, Steve has a bisexual identity crisis and Eddie just wants to make him feel good. (Part 1 of Crimson and Clover-verse)

If you know someone I haven't tagged, please tag them in the comments!

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #epic steddie fic rec #steddie fic rec

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dieselpvnk · 10 months ago

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nobody asked, but here's my opinion on every Rain World region because I am pretty bored. A note that a lot of my experiences/opinions on Downpour regions come from release, so there were no maps, no nothing.

Outskirts: a good basic region, nothing spectacular, but a good introduction into the world, has few threats, the platforming is not challenging and the punishment for failing is mild, but it gets you accustomed with the controls and mechanics. Hell on earth with Hunter/Downpour spawns tho, still a solid region.

Industrial Complex: love it a lot, I don't even remember why at this point. Used to say it's my favourite region, wouldn't call it that anymore, but nonetheless I think it's great. A bit more of a challenge than Outskirts, while still being pretty chill, probably the player'e first encounter with vultures, which scared the shit out of me, but also my first vulture kill happened there (on the bridge to Shaded, flat ground my beloved). Has a lot of good places to learn advanced movement tech too. Aesthetics wise it's not too remarkable and pretty similar to Outskirts, but it works, also bio-engineering is one of the best tracks.

Drainage System: I'm #1 Drainage defender. It doesn't deserve nearly all the hate it gets. Yeah, it's prettt much a trap and a death sentance if you go there immediately after Outskirts, but that doesn't make it a bad region. It has great aesthetics, great ost, great layout. Ideally you have to have a bit of experience with water physics in Rain World before entering, otherwise it gets problematic, but really it's not THAT necessery if you're willing to experience some trial and error. Yeah, there's The Tunnel, but really, not that bad, you either have to be good at controls in water or get a little creative and that's always fun to find workarounds. I got stuck there the first time like many others, but after some time I realized that I have a spear that can help me jump back over the hole, and it worked, after that when I got there I first went to the left, since the water falling pushes the leeches down and they don't follow you, there you can grab a bubbleweed and proceed back to the right, since it repels the leeches. Then, you know, I got good at the game and there's no reason to do that anymore. Also with Downpour it's no longer a "jump in The Tunnel or it's a dead end". Also extremely fun to run and jump around there as Rivulet, they wall jump so fast.

Garbage Wastes: pretty mid imo. It's not BAD, but it's not great either, just kinda there, part of the reason I grew to dislike it is the fact that back in vanilla I took Garbage Wastes route to Shoreline while I was on the quest to bring Moon every single pearl. The aesthetivs are solid, I can see the appeal, but for me it just doesn't do it, not a fan. Also it's full of scavs and I'm a scav hater 👎 (has nothing to do with Artificer, I was a hater way before Downpour)

Shoreline: it's meh, it's most notable for being a "walking right simulator", too flat and long for me, not enough interconnecting parts with interesting terrain. It's water, like Drainage, but done boring. I remember platforming in Moon was sooo difficult the first time, now it's mildly annoying.

Shaded Citadel: scary as shit and I love it. so much. First time was the worst, didn't know about lanters, had scary sounds, thought only source was light was throwing flashbangs. I entered from Idustrial, got scared, quickly died, and turn around never to return for the next ... many hours. Now it's the only route to and from Shoreline I take, love the feel and aesthetics dearly, I learned how to deal with coalescipedes and I feel powerful. Usually go there after I have neuron glow because I can't be bothered to carry a lantern, but it's not required, realistically I can navigate there without a light source. Industrial to Shoreline is "going right simulator", sure, but unlike Shoreline itself it has terrain variation, it has interconnecting paths, but it's also not a complete maze, it's clearly devided into upper, middle, and lower parts. Also Memory Crypts is cool, even tho I don't go there because. well, because next point ↓

The Exterior: to me it's very clearly devided into The Wall and The Underhang/Leg, about which I have very differing opinions. The Wall is awesome, great, fun, I love going Up Up Up, and also being above clouds when rain starts ... wow so cool. And now that Downpour added day/night cycle it's even prettier. The Underhamg on the other hand... yeah, I don't like it, it requires a grappleworm to pass and I don't like them, it's no fun, got softlocked there the first time I've been there, but like for real, not like in Drainage. DLLs can be annoying to deal with when they're blocking your way, you can waste an entire cycle waiting for the path to be clear. And also the karma gate to Five Pebbles in TheUnderhang is in every way inferior to the one above The Wall.

Five Pebbles: immaculate aesthetics, but going through the region ... no thank you. I only found it fun as Artificer, since it has a lot more movement control in zero-g. As any other slugcat, it's very frustrating waiting to hit a wall to jump off it, or trying to grab something to throw to boost yourself in a direction. The region looks really cool, Memory Conflux is my favourite part, but I simply can't enjoy it because of zero-g. And on the first playthrough I HAD to go there because I've been to Pebbles' chamber one too many times and he kept killing me, and as a consequence I HAD to go through The Underhang, overall a very unpleasant experience that largely shaped my attitude towards the two regions.

Chimney Canopy: a lot of hostile creatures, but in a fun way, once again I like going Up Up Up, and there's also the bridge to Sky Island/The Wall which is nice flat terrain to fight vultures, very cool. The Gutter is like. It's fine, I don't hate it, I enjoy the aesthetics, but the thich water you swim through very slowly is frustrating. Also I want the dropwig in that one room back :'[ thank you modders for saving me. My path of choice to Five Pebbles/Sky Islands, but overall unremarkable, not bad however.

Farm Arrays: I don't like this region. at all. it sucks. It's annoying, it's frustrating, unrewarding, when I get somewhere I don't think "I finally did it!!" I think "it's finally over", and the aesthetics aren't good enough to make up for it. I like raindeer, but dealing with them is awful.

Subterranean: it's meh, it's fine, it's okay. Not a hater, not a fan, don't really go there ever because. it's not interesting to me in any way. My favourite room is the one random pool looking room I want to see something that expands upon that idea and aesthetic. Filtration is annoying, but at this point I can navigate it blindfolded, Depths are just time consuming after the fiest couple of times, not ineteresting at all.

Pipeyard: I'm an avid hater, it's boring, it's frustrating to navigate, the color palette makes me wanna throw up, it offers NOTHING, you can beat the game a billion times and never step a foot in there, it serves no function, other than being a shortcut for Hunter, but it's not even needded really. The only serviceable part is Sump Tunnel, it's kinda like Drainage but lamer. Also Pipeyard is a maze, and not even the fun kind.

Submerged Superstructure: very cool to explore, it is a maze, still not the fun kind, but the aesthetics and how it's interconnected does make up for that, so it's not a big complaint, esp since you primarily explore it as the speedy fast rodent. It's exploring an iterator, but without the zero-g, that's cool. And also Bitter Aerie is sooo awesome, I love the snow, the way it just spits you out there once you place the rarefuction cell, fun. Was kinda frustrating on release, for some reason a lot of downpour regions lagged really badly on my computers back then, after a while it just. was fine again, literally nothing changed in my hardware, idk what was the issue. I figured out giant jellyfish caused lag, got rid of them, but it still occasionally lagged so bad I had to quit. Now it's all good and I can enjoy the region in its full glory.

Outer Expanse: unpopular opinion, Sunken Pier > the rest of it. Idk, I just don't like it, it's very much not doing it for me. The rooms are boring even tho objectively I can say they are fine, the look and aesthetic of the region it's just. Objectively it's fine, there's nothing wrong with it, but I don't like it to an absurd degree. Also probably part of the reason is that I did not enjoy playing Gourmand.

Waterfront Facility: I still don't like it, it's not bad, I don't hate it, but it's once again not good either. The Precipice can go fuck itself tho. It's long, frustrating jumps, no shelters, so you have to backtrack a lot, and you WILL die with how tight the jumps are, and with all that it's still infested with hostile creatures.

Metropolis: one of my favourites, very fun, very cool, tailor made for Artificer's explosive jump, which is a great design choice imo, adds some platforming challenges that are fun and rewarding to overcome. Those platforming challenges also serve for a good (better) terrain to fight scavangers, since they can't reach as far as you can (there are srill piper they can access to get to you, but it buys you time). The aesthetics are great, it' clearly divided into sectors, it's interconnected but still makes sense, the fun kind of maze. I love going Up Up Up and it has The Tallest Tower, exactly what I need. I wanted to see Pebbles' city ever since vanilla and they gave it to me. This is a region made for me specifically. Also the region art is a banger.

The Rot: very big, confusing to navigate and the overseers don't really help. The rarefaction cell is so close to Five Pebbles, but on my first try I went pretty much everywhere except the right direction, went from all the way from The Wall gaye all the way down to The Underhang gate. But I'd still say I like it, the aesthetics save it, once again, iterator insides, but no zero-g. A lot of fun platforming challenges, but also a lot of bullshit with DLLs.

Looks To The Moon: same as Five Pebbles in vanilla honestly. Zero-g is extremely unfun for me. It was cool to see familiar rooms, but working, but was does it save it? no. Also the neuron flies are not enough to sustain Spearmaster, and Moon's Underhang ... oh god it's awful why is there so much shit there, especially spiders.

Undergrowth: Drainage, but green, nice.

Silent Contruct: good, but too big for it's own good, I was barely able to find Five Pebbles. Once again it's neat to see familiar rooms in a new way, being destoyed that is. I like it, but not a huuuge fan, don't think I'll ever revisit it much. Especially since I spent A LOT of time there the first time, I think I've been everywhere on the map before finding Five Pebbles.

Rubicon: once again it's too fucking big. And once again it was laggy as hell on release. I got lost, backtracked, got lost again, went back in the directing I've been to originally, rinse and repeat over and over and over. Aesthetics are cool, but wear off quickly. I don't like yellow and it's pretty clear throught this whole post I think. Seeing old rooms in a new way, again, cool, neat. But it still doesn't make up for all of its bullshit. I just wish it wasn't as big as it is, because thematically I like it a got. But gameplay wise, I don't wanna go there ever again.

#rain world #just rambling

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ltbarnes · 2 years ago

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Anachronism - Part II

Or the placing of persons, events, objects, or customs in times to which they do not belong

Summary: Sprained ankles, snowstorms, blood-thirsty wolves and feral super soldiers. What was supposed to be a peaceful walk in the woods surrounding the cabin you're staying in with your best friend Steve quickly turns devastating, forcing your path to cross with the mysterious and burly man who can't seem to grasp social cues and the concept of privacy. His past is a puzzle that can't seem to be solved and your feelings for the sweet and giant man quickly develop from friendly gratitude to something neither of you can't quite grasp.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: a little bit of nudity and some sinful thoughts, bears!!, manhandling, Steve panicking and Bucky being the sweetest

A/N: I made it!! Never thought I would be able to finish part 2 in time but it’s done!! The love on the first part has been amazing and please give me any and all thoughts on this part <3 I love talking with you!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

You had been gone for six hours by the time a barely functional Steve ventured out to search for you a second time.

15 minutes. That's how long you said you would be out, and Steve started glancing out of the window for you already after 13 to see if you were back.

And he tried to go out and search just half an hour after you left, but even for a super soldier a harsh snowstorm like this one is impossible to navigate in. His phone service was not working and contacting the compound was futile—they can't do anything as long as the weather is this bad.

He's fucking panicking. You're probably out here freezing to death if you already haven't. Leaving you to die like that is no option. For twenty hazy minutes Steve gathered anything that might be needed if he finds you half-alive in some ditch—warm water bottle, blanket, food, tracking device if Sam or Nat or anyone in the team feels like helping him some time.

Steve knew he shouldn't have let you go. He felt it this morning when he watched you walk out of the door with those ridiculously large mittens and the puffer jacket that could soften a fall from fifty feet high. But god, he can't say no to you even though he persisted for more than an hour in your argument. A flutter with those eyes of yours and he folds quicker than he can take another breath.

He's Captain America—a man who survived a world war, alien attacks, robots trying to take over the world and countless fights with the world's most notorious villains. He prides himself on having integrity equally strong as his vibranium shield and morals practically written in stone. Steve Rogers is an unmovable man and still he just throws away all logic and sense out of the window as long as you have a smile on your face.

His chest is heaving, out of breath. It doesn't happen a lot anymore now that his days of being an asthmatic, 90-pound sick man are long past him. You manage to make his goddamn body malfunction in a different way each time he meets you—today just happened to be the worst he's ever experienced. If you died like this while he sat inside looking over fucking sketches over the compound grounds he's not going to be able to live with himself much longer.

For so many years he's been able to keep you out of situations too dangerous for your own good. It's hard sometimes when you prance out in traffic without looking both ways or take shortcuts through alleyways on the way home from work in the middle of the night, but Steve's still been able to keep you safe. He has been there each time.

God, you fucking infuriate him. Sometimes he wants to throw you over his shoulder and lock you inside some closet where you can't get up to any trouble. Trying to negotiate your way out of being shot by a madman robber by offering him fucking cookies? Yeah, Steve was furious that day, but he adores you for it. Don't get him wrong—you're not some sunshine fairy girl like that teacher with glasses and colorful dresses in the sitcom you always watch, but still you offered a man with a gun to your head cookies. You barely even bake.

Honestly, Steve was annoyed by you for a whole two years before you slithered your way into his traumatized and lost heart. The 21st century is a labyrinth of parasocial relationships, too advanced technology and so much suffering existing along the endless progress that's been made since the 40's.

It all was just too much for him for a good while, and his range of emotions kind of just shut down. Work was all he had and the closest thing to a friend was Natasha, who he did not know at all at the time. Tony was a goddamn asshole and Fury was too vague and Steve was missing Bucky, Peggy and the Howlies so much that all woken time was either spent on grieving or fighting.

You were the first close friend he made in this century. One who he could spend entire nights talking to, and took him out on midnight pizza runs and showed him what the hell streaming was. A friend who showed him that things are better now in many ways.

But he knows now why Bucky was so goddamn irritated at him all the time—you aren't even throwing yourself into fights like he did, and still do, but instead manage to be so goddamn clueless and intelligent at the same time. And he doesn't want to find you stubbing your toe on the same treshold at least once a week as amusing as he does. Or that he looks forward to Monday meetings because he gets to walk past your little office, stacked with strange romance books you can read when Tony doesn't need help in the lab or Bruce has no samples to be incubated or whatever he does.

For a long time you were the only one he missed when he was gone on missions for weeks. Now the team is as much family as his real one ever was, and he loves them too, but you're still the first person that comes to mind when he drags himself half-alive and beaten to a pulp onto the quinjet after a gruesome fight.

Mostly he likes that you don't really need him. In reality you do so wonderfully fine by yourself, without anyone, and Steve loves your independence. He just seemingly likes worrying and fuzzing like a mother hen because he can. Because you let him.

You do stupid things sometimes and for those situations you really do need someone to either pull you away from the moving car heading towards you or scold you for being reckless, but you could live on a reclusive island entirely alone and wouldn't mind in the least. Maybe it's because Steve always wanted that quiet life—settling down in a house he built himself with a person he loves somewhere people won't bother him.

The snow is goddamn insatiable with working against him as he tries to find his way just a few feet away from the cabin. But he's been through worse and Steve would gladly cut off all his limbs and bathe in scolding lava to find you alive.

To hell with snowstorms and duties and work—he's going to find his best girl even if it makes a 100-year old super soldier hypothermic.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Your bladder is about to fucking burst.

For what must have been half an hour you've been laying awake to the sound of Winter's breathing, contemplating wether to go outside and potentially wake him up or just die.

But he's holding onto you so tightly, squeezing you to his chest with his nose buried in the crook of your neck, that you contemplate just holding it until he wakes. You feel like a stuffed animal he can't fall asleep without, the way Winter has tangled himself up in your limbs.

It makes you realize that you haven't felt closeness from a human like this in years. Maybe ever. You've never seen yourself as touch-starved but receiving such affection without any conditions or terms triggered some epiphany inside of you—you want to be held.

But ultimately, despite how heartbreaking it is, you are not willing to lay your life and dignity down for his and your own comfort in this moment.

The first movements of your newly awoken body generate cracking sounds that are a little too loud to not be concerned about. Good morning.

Somehow, in a manner you did not know you possessed, you slide out from his hold down onto the cold wooden floor without waking him up. You would've guessed he was a light sleeper.

A soft, breathy whine escapes his lips. You have to silence yourself with the palm of your hand to not laugh. Also desperately hoping that it's the loss of you on top of him that makes him upset in his sleep and not just the sudden lack of warmth.

His hair has been matted and tangled during the night, stray strands swept over his face, and he still he looks so good. You sit there on the floor staring at him for a good minute before you try to crawl away, struggling into your thermal pants and socks with a few silent curses slipping from your mouth.

If you're honest, you thought your foot would be fine by now. You clearly remember thinking to yourself that it would be over in five minutes when you fell. It's been a day and it's still swollen and hurting like a bitch—crawling to the door is the only way, though undignified.

You kind of miss being carried around while trying to haul yourself up to a stand with the help of the doorway. And you're also thinking about how Tony would have this picture printed and framed if he had a camera in his hand right now.

Outside it's still snowing, and the moderate layer of white, shimmering crystals covering the ground has grown to being outrageous during the night. It reaches up to your knees as you shuffle out just a short distance from the porch.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why am I doing this? Goddamn shit, ow," you whisper to yourself while trying to go about this in a dignified way that won't permanently disable you. "Ah. So cold. So cold."

And you're so hungry and tired and also might cry soon if things don't get better. Have you always been this sensitive? It feels like you're not. Circumstancial changes to your personality, hopefully.

Three days ago you were playing chess against Bruce in his lab while waiting for an analysis to process—that was, up until then, the most aggravating and complicated quest you had ever taken upon yourself (mainly because you do not know how to play chess). Right now you're peeing half-naked with snow up to your knees and a sprained ankle outside of a stranger's house who is most likely some kind of supernatural man and also very handsome. Is it weird that you're attracted to him?

Despite the rugged lumberjack-Tarzan type sleeping twenty feet away, you have a hard time seeing the silver lining in your misery. You're stuck and probably proclaimed dead. If you were a more positive person this could be counted as adventure time and great storytelling-material in the future—autobiography material, really. New York Times Bestseller List if you write it good.

But you're scared. You don't really know where you are and Steve might be out there looking for you. Yes, he is a super soldier, but it's not safe wading through a snowstorm without proper gear and knowledge. Steve can get cold too, despite how much he denies the slight shivers you've seen him develop during freezing walks in the winter. God knows he might wander off in the wrong direction and give himself hypothermia. Also a panic attack because this has to give him flashbacks to his time in the ice, right? Nightmares about being frozen solid like a popsicle?

By the time your teeth has since long started chattering, and you struggle to get up the zipper of your pants with your stiff fingers, a rustle in the trees surrounding the grounds forces you out of your daytime overthinking. The goosebumps on your skin instantly escalate to tiny mountains as you look around frantically for whatever threat is about to devour you.

Black fur emerges from between the branches, accompanied by a bark-like sound bordering on a happy chirp. You have to steady yourself to not fall over from shock as a bear cub wades through the snow, fuzzing up the powdery flakes as its dark coating slowly turns white from the steady snowfall.

Tears are dangerously close to being shed as you crouch down with your mouth agape. That was the last drop. A bear cub? Seriously? Sorting your thoughts through the big, blinking 'that is the cutest thing I have ever witnessed' is absolutely hindered by the fact that the bear is the cutest thing you have ever witnessed.

"Hi, baby," you say through a chuckle, stretching your hand out despite knowing that the bear could very well kill you. Because bear cubs are still dangerous, right? No?

It must be quite a few months old, if not a year, but the urge to hug it overpowers the underlying carefulness telling you to step away. Why did you ever think you had useful survival skills? A walking teddy bear comes into your sight and you abandon any reason.

The bear is hesitant as it catches sight of your figure, but it seems like the curiosity is stronger for it too. Slowly, and a bit clumsy, the cub makes its way through the deep snow until the wet nose nearly touches your fingers.

"Oh, you're so cute," you whisper with a blinding smile breaking through the chattering. "Where's your mother, huh? Have you gotten lost?"

It feels like maybe the soul of a tame cat has possessed this little bear as it latches on to your leg, paws embracing you with its nose snuggling into the stiff fabric. A shocked laugh escapes your lips as you gaze down at your new favorite being, possibly triumphing both Steve and Winter. Maybe it's too soon to decide wether or not Winter gets a place in your favorites category, but this one certainly does.

A shriek sounds through the air as your balance, which was compromised to begin with, falters and sends you to the ground with an especially hard nudge from the bear. Newly fallen snow wells up into the air as you hit the cold and soft layer with a thud, giggling like a little school girl as the bear releases a happy chirp.

"You want to play?" you ask, reaching your arms out while completely forgetting to be freezing cold like you should be. You didn't really have time to put on a jacket on top of your Henley before.

The bear pushes up snow with its nose, sending flakes into your face as if it splashes water jokingly. You throw some back, earning a shake of its fur to rid itself of the white formations.

But the door to the cabin is thrown open harshly, smashed against the wall, before you have any more time to resume your playtime. Winter barges out with his large and threatening build so tense that you fear he might pull a muscle. His eyes flicker over the scene, searching for your figure until he finds you half-buried in the deep snow with a bear hovering over you.

The panic is instant—you see it clearly from where you're craning your neck to catch sight of the sudden commotion. He's not wearing any shoes, but he runs out into the snow without hesitation anyways.

A growl sounds from his chest, puffing himself up to appear more threatening. For the first time you see the power he possesses—the real underlying danger inside of the man who has been so sweet to you these past 24 hours. But you're still not afraid of him.

"Wint—"

You begin calling out his name, try to explain that the bear wants you no harm, but the attempt is futile. Winter is fast, and before you can even say the whole of his name he has dragged you up from the ground with one arm while the bear fearfully runs away.

His hold is too tight for you to get a word out as he hastily brings you inside again, smashing the door shut and setting you down on the floor. This time he's careful of your foot, letting you hover just a few inches above the ground before slowly easing you down as to not lay any unnecessary weight on your ankle.

Winter's hands instantly find your face, eyes roaming over your body with frantic desperation.

"You—no hurt? Okay? Good?" he asks, tilting your chin up while inspecting the small patch of exposed skin on your neck.

His breathing is heavy. And you can understand what it looked like—he must've thought you were being mauled to death. Even though the bear was far from full grown they could still be dangerous, you think.

"I'm okay." You can't help but smile, despite it being a small one. "The bear just wanted to play. It was a really kind bear."

Winter furrows his brows into a frown, letting his gaze wander up to your face. A few seconds pass of him inspecting your expression, as if he's assessing wether or not you're sincere, before he lets out sigh.

A small pout grows on his face, drawing a giggle from your lips. He's cute like this.

"You were gone...so scared. Then I heard scream and saw bear," he tells you while shaking his head, tilted down towards the floor.

The smile on your face eases out into a sigh, hand instantly finding his forearm with a soft touch. "I'm sorry, Winter. I didn't want to wake you up and I had to pee. The bear just came out from between the trees and came up to me."

"But—no hurt?" he asks you once more.

You shake your head. "No. I'm completely fine. Just a little cold."

Winter lets out a puff of air from his nose. "Always so cold. All the time," he says, taking a step back from you to drag a chair out in front of you, before turning towards the fireplace.

"I am not. It just happens to be freezing outside and this cabin does not have any heat," you protest while sitting yourself down.

You watch as he reaches for the chopped wood stacked upon each other right beside the fireplace, throwing in a few more to feed the fire.

It crackles loudly, hypnotizing you for a few seconds before you start to feel the wet fabric clinging onto your skin.

"Do you have any other clothes?" you ask, arms encompassing yourself. "This shirt is all wet and cold from the snow."

Without any hesitation, he plucks his wine-red shirt off his back to reveal a tight, black long sleeve underneath. His right arm reaches the shirt out to you, meeting your doe-eyed gaze.

On a continuous roll, Winter has shown you kindness upon kindness ever since you woke up. It's all too much and you don't really know how to repay him. He's taken care of you so well, protected you and fed you and kept you warm and now given you his clothes. He barely even knows you.

With slight hesitance, you turn to the side and cling onto the hem of your shirt. You have to remind yourself that Winter probably won't mind if he sees you half-naked. He's already seen the bottom half of you in just underwear without having any significant reaction, so it'll be fine if he sees you in a bra too.

The collar gets stuck for a few seconds, and you struggle to get your head free for a good while. Gracious as ever. When you're exposed to the world again, you instantly feel the intense gaze of Winter on you.

His stare is zeroed in on your chest, the dark blue lace covering your breasts leaving little to the imagination when it comes to your nipples. No, you did not expect a single soul to witness your underwear on this trip while packing. But you kind of like dressing up for yourself a little bit too.

Winter parts his pink lips, drawn closer without even blinking. You sit there, gazing up at him while forgetting to take a breath. It's okay—he's just curious about the anatomical differences rather than the sexual aspect of it. You think.

"Touch...please," Winter murmurs as he stares at your breasts nearly spilling out of your bra.

And you have to suppress the sudden giggle that wants to escape. Winter looks like a kid staring at a lollipop, like he will burst any second if he can't inspect your fucking boobs.

"Ugh, they—soft. Look soft. Pretty," he whispers.

With a giggle you nod, giving him the okay to touch. You shiver now even before, despite feeling rather calm about it.

He uses his right hand to reach out. Ever since you flinched away from him that first time he's been hesitant to use his metal one while touching you, even though you don't mind. You have to tell him that.

"Never seen before—so soft. Oh."

His genuine excitement over having his hands on you draws a chuckle from your lips until he squeezes a little too hard.

"Be gentle. It hurts when you use too much force, okay?" you tell him.

He nods in answer, focus not straying from your breasts even once. He's mesmerized—he's never felt anything this pliable and cuddly on a person. In Hydra he only met rough men, consisting of hard muscle and rough handling. The entirety of you is just so soft.

"Off. Want away."

A tug at the strap of your bra paired with a wide-eyed gaze and pupils covering the entirety of his eyes signals that he'd be much happier without the offending fabric covering you. But you're not sure. It feels like a step too far.

Your fingers clasp softly around his, pushing them away from you gently. "Not today."

"Why?" he asks you with an expression bordering on a pout.

"Because I'm not comfortable with that. Do you remember when I explained that word?"

Winter nods while lowering his head to watch his left hand as it flexes open, leaving a whirring sound after him. He looks a little bit upset about it, but doesn't pressure you any further. The truth is that you're worried he might not know what it implicates—what it might lead to. Because you sure as hell have a hard time controlling your feelings right now, and from what you've seen of Winter he doesn't have a lot of boundaries or impulse-control himself.

You put on his shirt in the silence, even though he's still looking at you. The cold temperature has made your nose runny and the only sounds in the room are now your sniffles, the crackling fire and Winter's whirring arm.

"I, uh, have to find—eat," Winter says, bringing his fingers up to his mouth while parting his lips. A soft smile cracks through your solemn exterior, relaxing into your chair.

"Food?"

"Yes. Food."

He looks down at you, eyes raking up the entirety of your figure, before reaching for a large fur that he drapes over his shoulders. You almost think you hear Winter whisper a "so small" to himself as he exits through the door, sending a gust of cold wind inside that makes you shudder.

As you follow him with your gaze through the window, he nearly looks like Leonardo in The Revenant with the rugged long hair and large fur as the snowflakes steadily rain down on him. Sam made you and Steve watch the movie a few weeks ago.

You wonder if Steve's been able to contact anyone. He definitely tried, if you know him as well as you think you do. Everyone back at the compound probably thinks you're dead by now, and might not look for you. If it weren't for Winter, you would be dead after all.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Two long and despicably boring hours drag on before you hear footsteps outside on the porch. And you can't help but stand up from where you've been sitting on the floor, limping towards the door as it's thrown open.

Winter has three fishes hanging from his hand. Slightly comical and also a little gross. There's probably some lake around here that he's been able to drill a hole into or something.

Your amused smile meets his stoic face that lights up just slightly when he sees you. Butterflies and heart eyes or what not—if he had been just a tinge more adapted to social cues he would've noticed the impact he has on you.

Winter's break in resolve quickly disappears as he realizes just what you are doing. He told you to not move a finger while your foot was still hurt.

"No. No standing," he seethes, nodding towards the tattered couch. You just give him a teasing smile in return. "Y/n. Little bunny," he sighs, laying down the fishes on his table and a handful of red berries that roll away.

"What, Winter?" you ask, trying to will the heat away from your cheeks. If you're honest, just standing like this is completely fine. It's walking that hurts like a fucking bitch.

With slow steps he nears your figure, towering over you with his massive build. You have to crane your neck to see his face, shuddering with the quiet growl sounding from his chest.

"No standing, I said. Only I carry you," he tells you, pointing his finger into your chest.

A gulp. An exhale that makes you realize how dry your mouth is all of a sudden.

"No?"

"Not listen to me. Makes me not happy—angry," Winter says. "Foot will be more bad if standing on it all the time."

Two dozens of minutes later he has obviously gotten his way. You don't think you could say no to him when he flashes those blue eyes of his without even trying.

Comfortably sitting on the couch that has been moved closer to the fire with a fur blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you watch him prepare food for the two of you once more. An old copper pan is filled with snow that has since long melted, now boiling so you can both drink some water for the first time in almost two days.

The palm of your hand is filled with cranberries that Bucky picked just for you—he told you so himself—that you've been snacking on. They're a little bit sour, but you're so hungry that you'd practically eat anything.

"Winter, can I ask you something?"

He turns his head around, facing you while laying down his knife.

"What did you do before coming here? Who were the people who called you, uh, who called you an Asset?"

A frustrated breath of air comes out of his nose, like merely the thought of his past angers him. And you begin to suspect that he has all right to feel that way.

"They made me kill. Have made many people dead with this arm."

Winter stretches it out in front of him, inspecting it like it is the first time. With disgust and a distaste so deeply ingrained that you can see his pained thoughts from here.

Within the blink of an eye he turns his attention towards the fire again, turning the fish so it doesn't get burnt. You don't say anything.

"They made me forget also. I did not want to, so then use special words and machine to make me do things." His back is tense now, the outline of his muscles distinct through the fabric of his shirt. "Hold me there for so long. Can't remember anything now from before."

The sound of a knife scraping against metal pierces through the air. It's the tip dragging against his arm, without creating as much as a dent despite the pressure.

"I do not want to hurt. Not you ever," Winter says.

The breath gets stuck in your throat, eliciting a choked, high-pitched sound as you try to find an answer worthy enough of the horrific crimes just confessed to you. All this he has been through, all the things he has done for the past two days, and he has the nerve to assure you that he means no harm.

"Winter," you whisper, barely noticeable when your throat is so thick and dry that you can barely speak. "Look at me. Please."

A sea of blue and sorrow and hatred and so much softness meets your own eyes. God, this man.

"You deserve good things. And I am not afraid of you, nor should you be of yourself. Honey, you've suffered enough. Don't let yourself be another source of pain."

Your palm comes to rest against his cheek, eyelids fluttering shut as he leans into your touch. You don't know if he understood every word, but it doesn't really matter as long as he understood the meaning behind them. And you think he does.

Winter cries. Tears, though few, leak down onto your skin as he silently grieves what life was taken from him. You don't know much about what he's lived through, but you know enough now to mourn for him too. You know enough to hold hate larger than you ever have for the people that used him.

That evil in the likes of villains on a screen exists among humanity is not new. You've heard about it in mission reports, in conversations between agents and seen it up front. Though nothing new, it hurts and aches in parts of your heart you thought were permanently disabled. Empathy has never been your strongest point but it might just break you right now.

"C'mere," you whisper while holding your arms out for him to escape into.

Winter drags himself forward to close the few feet between you, arms wrapping themselves around your waist as he buries his face into your lap.

What must be half an hour passes by with your fingers tangled up in his hair, nails gently scraping his scalp, and Winter's soft breathing warming up your legs. His own must be numb by now.

The food is long forgotten and probably burnt. You haven't really taken your eyes off of him for the entirety of this time. And despite what must be a routine lacking any sort of hair care, Winter has strands softer than a kitten's and a newfound source of jealousy for you. In these moments you don't particularly mind when your hands are the ones who get to feel his dark brown hair sift through your fingers.

But it hasn't been silent. No, you've rambled on about anything he might find interesting about your life to keep him distracted. He doesn't say anything, but you know he's listening. During things he doesn't like he squeezes your thigh, and sometimes he lets out quiet sounds as reaction.

"I love reading. I've probably read fifty books this year outside of research for work," you tell him, leaning your head back against the couch. "But not any classics, those are too hard to understand. I like simple stories with clichés and happy-endings. Makes me believe that I might find happiness like that someday too."

A particularly noticeable puff of air escapes Winter, hitting your leg with the warmth of it. An agreement, maybe? Or a silent plead for you to shut your mouth for a second?

"Oh, and I cook a lot too. But mostly the same three dishes. I'm not really that good, but I've perfected this tomato sauce I've been doing since I was 18."

You lift your hand to scratch your nose for only a second, and Winter still lets out a nearly silent whine for your absence. It makes you laugh, tugging on a few strands in answer.

"Do you want me to talk more?" you ask him.

He nods, holding onto you a little tighter.

"And is it really comfortable sitting on the floor? Don't you wanna come up to the couch?"

A shake of his head. Still. A nod.

Winter places his hands on either side of you, pushing himself up from the floor until he's standing tall right in front of your figure.

It only takes a pat of your hand on the cushion beside you for him to sit down. You push yourself into the armrest, legs crossed to your best ability with a foot that still has good swelling to it, to give him enough space. The couch is too small in reality and had its shining moments before you were born, but when Winter unfolds your legs and drapes them over his lap the two of you fit well enough.

“Thank you,” his rough voice croaks out after a silence so long you nearly forgot the meaning of speaking. The comfortable silence is always going to be good enough communication for you.

Your eyes are closed and too heavy to open again. What time it is you have no idea about, but it’s dark and you’re exhausted, but find some sliver of energy to answer him.

“What for?” you ask, soft voice on the verge of being slow.

“You are very…kind. Kind and uh, cute. Pretty.” His hand strokes up and down your leg, as if the thought of not touching you is unbearable. “Also smell so good. Want to be close all the time.”

The entirety of your body tenses up and you don’t know why. Why do your limbs turn to stone when his words burn in your veins, sends heat to your face and ears and heart that beats faster with each passing second?

You want to answer, but Winter beats you to it. Instead of expecting you to say anything in return he pets you on the head gently.

“Little bunny so tired. Already sleeping almost,” he says, more to himself than for your sake. You already know how tired you are.

The solid couch disappears from underneath you as he carries you with him to the bed. And just like last night, he maneuvers you until you’re laying flat atop of him.

A pleased hum sounds from your lips, snuggling into his warm hold with a tired smile adorning your face.

“Winter, tomorrow I would really like some pasta. A big pot that nobody else gets to taste but us,” you mumble. “Not even Steve.”

And Winter doesn’t really understand what you’re babbling about, but you can feel his smile despite your eyes being closed.

You could get used to this, and you haven’t felt like a life without Steve constantly nearby is something you could ever be without before. Two days and nights is all it took.

It scares you.

Part III

#marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #bucky barnes smut #beefy!bucky #anachronism

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camilaquintanalopez · 4 months ago

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Closed for @franciscofontenelle

Where: Chapman University, Faculty of Sciences.

Recently, Camila had what could only be described as one of the most mortifying revelations she'd had in a while. She might be as bold as saying the most mortifying ever, but you know, she did have the revelation that marrying her cheating boyfriend would be the cure to her issues and that was pretty mortifying. Although it was far from an epiphany, it was definitely a thought she'd had. Anyways. I'm sure you're now wondering what that mortifying, and I do mean mortifying revelation was. Simply: you cannot let him hinder your career. Well, anyone for that matters, but him, in that case, was, you guessed it, the one and only Francisco Fontenelle. It was no shock to learn that one needed a chainsaw to cut the tension in a room with those two, having learned the hard way that a knife would do very little damage. Being forced to actively work together as they were for the vetting of the candidates had marginally improved the situation, but there was such a long way to go, with no intent of actually walking that path, that the progress seemed minuscule.

Yet, with all of that, one might think that realisation was full of spite and disdain as he'd done something awful. Which would not be surprising to Camila, coming from her former friend. But that wasn't it. It wasn't even that he was doing anything to hinder her career, not actively at least. Sure, his presence made coming to work a little stressful, as she didn't know whether she'd see him or if they'd have to share a space, but other than that, he'd done the work that was needed and asked of him without complaining or trying to make it bad on purpose so she'd leave him alone. She had encountered people like that, especially men in the field, and she'd quite expected him to act that way, given his definite hatred towards her. But he didn't. Which was part of what made her consider this in the first place.

The easy solution? Let it go. It was just an idea, a good one of course, but an idea and it could, maybe should, stay that way. Things would be fine if she did let it go. There would be no bad consequences. It would be so, so, so much easier. And yet.

Yet, she couldn't shake that stupid idea off since she'd had it. She'd tried to convince herself against it. But then, well, then she had the revelation. She'd thought that ever since his arrival, but now, she'd realised that no letting anyone, including him, especially him, hinder her career also meant not passing up opportunities because they included him.

So now, she'd been glancing at him from her book in the lunch room of their shared faculty, trying to be sneaky about it. Thankfully, he was alone, so it would be easy to trap him into a discussion. While she was trying to remind herself that the worst he could say was no as if she was about to ask him on a date, she was more anxious about how to approach it. She'd wondered if she should go for a more sheepish, cutesy approach to try to bring him to her side but she'd genuinely shivered at the idea of almost trying to seducing him into working with her. An email would've been a lot easier, but she needed to see his face. One wrong micro-movement and she was out.

Doing her best to appear confident, she put her book down, stood up and walked towards Francisco's table with a paper in her hand. It mattered very little that he was probably trying to enjoy lunch in peace. She sat down in front of him with all the determination she could fathom. "Hi." She tentatively tried for a smile but decided a serious look was better. She hated that she was so nervous. "I think we should work together." You already do, you idiot. She passed him the paper, trying to focus more on it than on him. On it, she'd handwritten the idea and some more specific notes. "The protocol we need is good and works well and I think we should write an article on it together", she finished, finally looking up at him.

#interaction cisco #cisco 3 #cami quintana lopez

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deathfavor · 1 year ago

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FROM BAD TO WORST HUSBAND - @ashrifts you asked and i took this more seriously than i probably needed to but here we are.

Izana - To be fair I really struggled with how to start this list, but I feel OVERALL Izana’s probably the least....bad? You know. Most Functional Once you get it through his stupid skull and when he figures out his own emotional issues. Which really is the hardest part. At least from a romantic perspective. But once he does care and is confident & comfortable in that fact, he’s able to express it better. He cares and he shows it, he’ll say it even if he’s likely to stiffen initially. He’s not without the flashes of harshness here and there and he does have some struggles/fears with being abandoned or them seeing him how he sees him. But even then, Izana’s a lot more capable of keeping it together. He shuts down in those moments more than anything. With him, the biggest threat is external or his own path to hell. But if you walk it hand in hand with him, then it’s not so bad. He’ll love you, and you’ll know it.

Kazutora - At first I did contemplate where he’d be. His emotions are the most genuine and are the deepest out of the three. Kazutora’s emotions show a lot quicker but they’re also a lot more volatile due to his unstable mental state. He latches onto someone and he latches on intensely. Given how few good things he’s had, he wants to keep it and he’s terrified to death to lose it. We’ve seen what happens when he feels like he’s lost something important and been betrayed. Kazutora does love, he loves deeply and passionately and with every aspect of himself. He’ll soften around them, gentler, laugh from his heart, show the vulnerable, less confident sides. But at the same time...he’s not the easiest. Sometimes he wants comfort and other times he tries to flee even when he needs to be saved, when he needs someone. And for every bit of love he has, it can turn DANGEROUS if he feels abandoned or betrayed. Even if its just a moment or misunderstanding. He has so many issues and he knows it, tries his best to handle it, but can’t always do so. But god when he’s in love he really does put to shame some of the myths because it runs so deep.

Hanma - Hanma is Hanma so of course he’s the worse. He’s not husband material to begin with, have you met him. He’s selfish and sadisitic, and adrenaline junkie to the max. He’s not expecting a long life to begin with so the idea of marriage really hasn’t crossed his mind (nor dating for that matter. He just sleeps around.) Hanma is always after entertainment which means he’s GOING to go after stupid, reckless shit without regard to how it might affect someone, or if something happened to him. He does put himself first always even in a relationship. Not to say he won’t help or comfort, but he’s still his main priority and that will never change. That said.......IF he managed to really like someone, he is there. No matter how far you fall, he’ll probably still be there as long as you are you. If you want to burn down the throne of hell, he’ll be there. But he’s still going to do his own thing and he really, won’t be tied down. You aren’t going to beat manners into him or cage him.

#᛭ — [OOC] angst is the game and tears are the currency #i think i am happy with this...#stablish to not stable at all to whatever he wants #thats basically what it came down to

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firendgold · 1 year ago

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If you're still doing the choose violence ask game: 2 (👀), 9, 10, 22 ?

I got such a rush from finally answering the first ask that I'm doing this for as long as people send me questions. So here we go again!

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

anon, I'm at work. I'm seeing this at work. :'D

Okay, serious face. Albus Dumbledore is probably my fave if I have to choose between him and Harry on this blog. I just have to figure out why he would never...

Bottom. Albus would never, I'm sorry. He won't. He can't. Like, maybe when he was having his whirlwind summer romance with Gellert, he bottomed every single time they fucked because he was so in love and this was his equal and his partner and so what if he was a little rough and distant sometimes in the bedroom, and always wanted to top and tug his hair and hiss out orders? This was The Man The Universe Had Crafted For Him, and he would absolutely bottom for him every time... and then the summer of 1899 ends. And Ariana dies. And Aberforth breaks Albus' nose. And Gellert fucks off to go be a fascist.

And Albus, alone and heartbroken, resolves to never trust someone that completely again, never love someone that same way, and never let anyone get into a position of power over him where they might be able to use his knowledge and talents for ill. That means physically, emotionally, spiritually, psychologically... carnally. So he has sex with plenty of other people, and even falls in love with a few of them, but he is in control at all times. He never bottoms again.

That's all I've got for that one.

9. worst part of canon

So the first answer that came to mind is posted here, but for fairness' sake I'll try to come up with another worst thing. (That's not related to ships, because I'm trying really hard not to be THAT violent on the violence ask game.)

I think... that if That Woman was going to introduce international schools, students and characters in the middle book of the series, she should have done more with them than having them vanish after Goblet of Fire, only to come back for either fake romantic tension and one line of exposition about the Hitler allegory Dark Lord of the Before-Times (Krum, Deathly Hallows) or to be married off to a Weasley for an aesop of It's Not About His Looks Now That They're Jacked Up (Fleur, Half-Blood Prince). I'm not saying Fleur and Viktor HAD to be best buddies forever with Harry, but it is weird that they have this unique bond that no other young students have had with each other in hundreds of years, they even lost one of their fellow champions, Dumbledore gives this very moving speech about remaining connected and not letting darkness and prejudice sever new ties, and then... nothing. No side adventures in France or wherever Durmstrang is, no communication from either side, nothing.

Feels like a huge letdown in hindsight.

10. worst part of fanon

Oh, no. That's not fair. There's just so many.

If I had to consolidate what I currently don't like about the HP fandom/fanon into a few lines, I think I would say that I hate the pureblood/Dark side apologism. I do believe in nuance in characters. I do believe redemption and/or walking different paths is an important theme in Harry Potter, and I think it's fascinating to explore that with any and every character you can think of, even characters I may not personally like. But I really, really hate the way the fandom has taken that and twisted it into this idea that we were sold a lie at the start: that the British magical government was fine the way it was, and so was the society around it; that Dark magic Isn't All That Bad, Really, and there are actually Good and non-prejudiced things about a few rich bitches passing down their knowledge and secrets and slurs for generations within the Family, and keeping the Family "Pure" is cool actually, and none of this has any relation to real life ideas about miscegenation and classism and racism and eugenics, what are you talking about?

It's just so worrying. As a minority, when I see people on tumblr/twitter/AO3 gleefully agreeing that we need to eat the rich and fix society and eradicate all the horrid -isms and -archys ruining all our lives, then watch them turn around and write a 200k epic where Dumbledore was the evil one for locking the Horcrux books away and championing marginalized members of society, Hermione is just uppity for wanting to make necessary changes to the darker parts of magical society that That Woman was literally pointing out for a reason, and Tom Riddle is only bad because he took the good segregationist pureblood ideas and added murder to them... and when that fic gets thousands of comments agreeing with them full stop with no examination of any of that... it makes me anxious, at a minimum. The same thing is happening now with Grindelwald now that he's actually a figure on the screen and not just some dude mentioned a few times in the book series: same apologism, same justification of atrocities, same good-guy-blame-games, same blorbofication even.

On the one hand... fiction doesn't always directly reflect or affect reality. On the other... this unironic pro-pureblood meta is a pervasive concept that has popped up in thousands of fics written by thousands of fanfic writers. It's happened for years, and it keeps happening, and I see very few fans speaking out against it or even acknowledging it as a problem. So that makes me ask myself, who actually is willing and able to examine the injustices of our society and build a better imaginary society through the lens of HP fanfiction, and who's okay with the prejudice in the HP world as long as it's coming from the faves they're attracted to?

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

Happily, this is a harder question to answer because I've been finding so many like minds in the past 5 years who go feral over the same 20 HP scenes as I do. ^^ But give me a sec, I'll think of something.

...

Okay. Got it.

In order to answer this question, I have to go back to the first time I, young teenager, avid reader, recent reader of the HP series once book 5 was out, realized that Harry and Dumbledore had a much deeper relationship than just headmaster and student. The thing that made me latch on to them and project like crazy, basically.

It's the scene in Goblet of Fire chapter 36 where Harry has been rescued from Fake Moody and he's in Dumbledore's office with Dumbledore and Sirius. Dumbledore asks Harry to relay everything that happened to him once he touched the Portkey in the maze—and immediately Sirius tries to protect Harry from having to relive it now, so soon after it's happened. And then this scene happens.

Dumbledore stopped talking. He sat down opposite Harry, behind his desk. He was looking at Harry, who avoided his eyes. Dumbledore was going to question him. He was going to make Harry relive everything. “I need to know what happened after you touched the Portkey in the maze, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “We can leave that till morning, can’t we, Dumbledore?” said Sirius harshly. He had put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Let him have a sleep. Let him rest.” Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Sirius, but Dumbledore took no notice of Sirius’s words. He leaned forward toward Harry. Very unwillingly, Harry raised his head and looked into those blue eyes. “If I thought I could help you,” Dumbledore said gently, “by putting you into an enchanted sleep and allowing you to postpone the moment when you would have to think about what has happened tonight, I would do it. But I know better. Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.” The phoenix let out one soft, quavering note. It shivered in the air, and Harry felt as though a drop of hot liquid had slipped down his throat into his stomach, warming him, and strengthening him. He took a deep breath and began to tell them. As he spoke, visions of everything that had passed that night seemed to rise before his eyes; he saw the sparkling surface of the potion that had revived Voldemort; he saw the Death Eaters Apparating between the graves around them; he saw Cedric’s body, lying on the ground beside the cup. Once or twice, Sirius made a noise as though about to say something, his hand still tight on Harry’s shoulder, but Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him, and Harry was glad of this, because it was easier to keep going now he had started. It was even a relief; he felt almost as though something poisonous were being extracted from him. It was costing him every bit of determination he had to keep talking, yet he sensed that once he had finished, he would feel better.

This is one of the best scenes in the entire book, the entire series. It completely refutes the fanon Dumbledore who is often cold, cruel, inflexible and unrelenting in his quest for whatever the author wants him to be inflexible and cruel about at the time. It shows that Dumbledore, the real Albus Dumbledore, is one of the few people who understands what Harry needs and is able to provide it to him, even when others who also care for Harry would rather protect him or shield him from what he needs.

Kid me was particularly taken by how gentle Dumbledore is with Harry here. It made me look back and see how in some ways this scene, this closeness, is the culmination of all the times they've met and spoken before.

(You can imagine how painful it was reading Order of the Phoenix right after this.)

But yeah, that's probably one of my favorite scenes that other people ignore or haven't talked about/drawn/written about much. Which is ironic, because the scene right after that where Harry talks about Voldemort taking his blood and Dumbledore's eyes do the triumphant "lol Voldemort just fucked up" gleam is probably one of THE most talked-about scenes in the fandom (even though to this fucking day in 2023 people still don't realize what the gleam meant, when even That Woman has clarified what it meant in INTERVIEWS).

...And for me, safely at the end of the questions, that's all she wrote.

#fireandgoldposts #thanks for the ask!#choose violence ask game #Albus Dumbledore #not y'all making me put more gr*ndeld*re on this blog :') I forgive you tho #it's my own fault for having that headcanon. and to think I didn't think I'd be able to answer that question #I'm poking a real bear by finally talking about how much I hate the pureblood politics/pureblood supremacy/misunderstood bad guys trifecta #another thing that was perhaps interesting 20 years ago when people first started doing it but is now stale and infuriating #since it's now seen as fact and not fiction #the fiction of fiction even #I can't believe I didn't just write ''the worst part of fanon is every independent!Harry/manipulative!Dumbledore fanfic ever written #that's growth for me #oh god the worst part about no expanded roles for Fleur and Krum is that most fans only give Fleur an extended role #when they're SHIPPING HER WITH HARRY as some kind of ''ooh foreign beauty'' thing where he naturally resists her allure #and oh my god here comes the nausea again because flowerpot is another ship that's been done to death the very same way haphne/wolfstar has #and I love Krum/Hermione as much as the next person but fanon Krum is like NEVER allowed to move on from Hermione unless he's gay/bi #which is VERY rare to see. like please give me Harry/Krum fanfic recs if you have them #or Ron/Krum because that is so narratively satisfying #honorable mention for question 22 would probably go to the scene where Hermione and Ron try to get Harry to go to Dumbledore in year 5 #after they find out what Umbridge is doing to him in detention and Harry just. CAN'T. properly explain why he doesn't want to go #but he's thinking about how Dumbledore has ''ignored him since last June'' and it's one of the few times we see him acknowledge that hurts #he mentions it several times throughout the book in his thoughts but that's one of the first times he refuses help from Albus #even though Albus would help him in a heartbeat oh my GOD it's been like 20 years since that book came out and I'm still feral about those #Goblet of Fire #Fleur Delacour #Viktor Krum #pureblood propaganda #and how much I am anti-that lmao #not fireandgold #oh my god having to reformat this every 3 hours because the bolds and italics won't stick is a fucking NIGHTMARE

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