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hard-core-super-star · 5 months ago

Note

Random thought popped into my head but it's about vampire Kate x reader. What if reader was a witch of some sort who got her heart broken because Kate is an fboy and became terrified and left when she realized how much she loved the reader but came crawling back a year later because she needed reader's witchy help and they ended up casually flirting because they clearly still have feelings for each other and stuff

ain't that the kicker [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate x reader

summary: the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that. [aka you and kate have way more issues than you thought]

warnings: none, i think?; did somebody order angst?; so much tension, you need more than one knife; i rob you of a longer wanda scene; cliffhanger ending because this got too long; weird vampire powers that are badly explained; very long dream sequences; a surprising lack of actual vampire stuff [i badly need to rewatch first kill]; idiots in love but emphasis on the idiots!

wodcount: 3.2k

a/n: hey everyone, my motivation was pretty dead for a while but, unsurprisingly, vampire kate brought it back! and before you all freak out, YES! THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART! and maybe it'll be less sad and more spicy, who knows? anyway, thank you so much for sticking with me and my constant disappearing act. my second year at university is wrapping up so hopefully you’ll see more of me this summer ;) that's all i have to say, hope you enjoy <3

part one | part three | part four

* * * * * * *

Saying going home with Kate Bishop had been a bad idea would be a massive understatement.

You knew being alone with the heir of Bishop Security would come with problems but the problems all seemed relatively small compared to the continuous waves of pleasure you had been under all night.

To be fair, though, you never expected a grainy picture of you on Kate's lap to be part of that list of problems. You had expected some awkwardness from the charming brunette, the usual "we can't do this again" speech while actively making out in some random storage closet, maybe even some weird looks from your co-workers to further complicate things.

Your original plan had featured everything except you going viral overnight and waking up to the biggest PR disaster to ever hit Bishop Security. (Which is saying a lot considering the many one-night stand scandals Kate always finds herself wrapped up in)

You had so many ideas of what the morning after would be like but none of them included you waking up to an empty bed and a large pit in your stomach that tells you you fucked up big time.

Maybe it had been your fault, maybe you had been too naive for thinking you could really have it all.

Or maybe Kate was right. Maybe she had a longer list of enemies than you had been willing to entertain.

There were far too many “maybe’s” in your mind, an overwhelming amount of notifications on your phone, and you had no idea where Kate had gone.

You’re not sure how long you spend scrolling through Twitter and avoiding all the texts filled with unanswerable questions from your co-workers but eventually, you manage to regain control of yourself and get up from the archer’s ridiculously comfortable bed. You do your best to ignore how shaky your legs are as you get dressed, your mind unfortunately drifting to the night before.

You manage to find your way to the kitchen where there's a full spread of, slightly burnt, breakfast waiting for you. Your heart swells as you read the messy handwriting on the post-it note next to the biggest stack of pancakes you’ve ever seen.

Morning, sunshine. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for so I made a bit of everything. Eat as much as you can, you’ll need a lot of food and water to recover from last night ;) - Kate

It’s impossible to stop the wave of relief that crashes into you after reading that.

As impossible as it feels, you allow yourself to believe things will be fine. That Kate will stick by your side after opening up to you about her supernatural abilities.

But the fantasy doesn’t last long.

You’re halfway through your breakfast when you hear the front door slam shut with so much force you briefly wonder if the hinges came off. It takes no more than fifteen seconds for the archer to appear in front of you, her shoulders tense and an unreadable storm in her eyes.

Her posture already tells you the answer to the question forming on your lips but you ask anyway. “Everything okay?”

She seems almost startled by the sound of your voice as if hearing you makes you real.

It makes the mess you’re both in real.

“No,” she sighs. “I have some shitty news.”

“Shittier than being called a slut by all of New York?” You reply, unable to stop the urge to make her smile.

Kate doesn’t fully smile but she does let out a small chuckle, her shoulders dropping into a less tense position as the sound escapes her. “Yeah…shittier than that.”

You should’ve known where the conversation was headed. Should’ve realized there was no way you’d be able to have it all. No way for you to continue with your life as if nothing had happened.

Maybe you are too naive because you truly didn’t see her next sentence coming.

“y/n…I have to fire you and we...we can’t do this again. This has to be goodbye.”

Everything crashes into you at once.

The realization of what you’ve actually done, the stupid ease with which Kate is cutting you out of her life, the betrayal of her practically kicking you out onto the streets. You’re not an idiot, you know there’s no way you’ll be able to keep your apartment, your humble yet expensive life in New York, without your job.

Without her.

“You…you’re serious? You’re throwing me out just like that?”

“It’s not easy for me either-”

“It looks pretty damn easy, Kate.” You scoff.

“You’re not the one who spent her whole morning getting chewed out by her mom.” Her words come out like an afterthought, like she knows just how badly she’ll fuck up if you hear the annoyance behind them.

Unfortunately for her, you hear her loud and clear.

“Oh, come on. That’s your excuse? You had one bad conversation with your mom and suddenly I don’t mean anything?”

She doesn’t reply and her silence only serves to stoke the flames of fury and resentment rising within your chest.

“Do you know how many death threats I’ve gotten in the last hour? How many coworkers have tried to blackmail me already? Do you understand just how much of my life this has ruined? And you have the audacity to act like you have it hard?”

“Don’t pretend like you know anything about my life,” she spits back. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it, Katherine. If I didn’t know you, if you didn’t care, why the hell did you tell me your dirty little secret?”

She blinks, taken aback by the hard-hitting truth you throw her way.

If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t notice the way she nervously fidgets with her fingers or the way she bites down on her lower lip while she tries to come up with something to say. If you didn’t know her, you wouldn’t know she’s hurting underneath.

You do know her, though, but knowing her isn’t enough if she’s not willing to let you stay.

So, because you do know her…you walk away.

It feels like giving up in the most infuriating of ways but it’s the only thing you can do. If Kate’s mind is made up, there’s no amount of reason that will get her to change. That’s another thing about her you’ve learned the hard way.

So you swallow your pride and walk away with no plan, no job, no way of supporting yourself. If you were a more spiteful person, you would have applied for a job at Stark Industries but instead, you do the second hardest thing you’ve ever done.

You restart.

It’s a bitter defeat and still, you pack up your things and pay an old friend a visit.

You had left Wanda behind after the Westview fiasco but she’s the only person you can think of running to after your entire life went up in flames. All it takes is one quick spell and the realization that a life without dark magic isn’t one you can live before you’re standing on the porch of her small cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Saying she’s disappointed would be an understatement, especially since she explicitly warned you not to fall in love with Kate Bishop. It’s hard to believe the witch knew about Kate’s vampire secret but you also wouldn’t be surprised if she knew what awaited you the second you left for New York.

Unfortunately, you had to learn things the hard way.

You could write multiple books on everything you’ve learned the hard way.

At the top of that list, though, is the true extent of a certain archer’s vampire powers.

It takes less than a month for Kate to reach you again…through your dreams. Dreams that feel far too real and leave you a tad bit more breathless than you’ll ever be willing to admit.

The first time it happens, you assume it’s one of Wanda’s new tricks, maybe it’s her way of helping you cope with what (or rather who) you’ve left behind. You think it’s weird but maybe a tad bit sweet and you make a mental note to ask her about it in the morning.

It’s not until you realize that you’re actively thinking that you start to worry.

To make matters worse, you’re inside Kate’s apartment…and she quite literally stumbles out of her bedroom to see you standing in the middle of her living room.

“Oh, shit.” She groans.

Your heart skips a beat at the sound of her voice. You know you’re just dreaming and yet it all feels so real. It’s like you can feel her eyes on you, hear the way your heart won’t stop pounding in your ears.

Your confusion must be written all over your face because she answers your question before you can even ask it.

“Yes, you are dreaming but this isn’t like a normal dream.”

“What the fuck happened to you not being a mind reader?” You blurt out.

You wait for that stupid smirk of hers to appear, maybe with a half-assed shrug and a semi-charming joke, but it never comes. “My dream, my rules, I guess.”

“That still doesn’t explain what’s going on.”

A beat of silence goes by before she sort of gives you an answer. “I can explain but you might hate me afterwards.”

The look in her eyes says more than you can possibly handle right now. You’ve never known Kate to be particularly insecure but all you can see in those blue depths is fear and insecurity. Fear that your feelings for her have changed, that you already hate her and never want to hear from her again.

Too bad you’ve never been good at lying.

“Try me.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up into a small smile. “Long story short, we’re bonded. That’s why we’re in each other’s dreams.”

There’s a bigger question to be asked but you’re still a little freaked out by how real this all feels. By how intense your feelings for her still are.

“But this isn’t like a normal dream, is it?”

“Nope, perks of having vampire powers.”

“So, you can do everything except read minds?” You can’t help but tease her like all the times before. “That sucks.”

“Shut up,” she says with an over-dramatic roll of her eyes.

A calm silence falls over both of you and you hate how normal it feels. How just like that, you forget your anger and the betrayal you’ve felt every minute since the day you left New York in favor of falling for her stupidly enchanting self all over again.

It doesn’t help that with every second, the distance between you gets smaller and smaller.

You don’t know who takes the first step, all you know is you blink and suddenly she’s standing right in front of you, those soft blue eyes of hers searching for the truth you can’t hide.

“y/n,” she murmurs, her hand tentatively reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t what you wanted.”

She’s technically not wrong, leaving because of her incapability to deal with her feelings was the last thing you wanted, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

She didn’t give you any other choice.

And now she’s here, staring at you with that wounded puppy look she so effortlessly embodies.

“I wanted you,” you whisper in response. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

She chuckles, the sound warm but nervous. Her hand moves to cup your face and her touch is so soft, it leaves you breathless for a moment. “Never, I’m too stubborn for that, remember?”

You can’t help but tease her as the atmosphere shifts into something more affectionate than you’d like. “How could I forget? It’s your worst trait.”

“Ouch. Is that how you treat your favorite vampire?”

“Aw, poor little vampire baby.”

You wait for her to make one of her usual jokes but she doesn’t.

Instead, her eyes drift down to your lips and your mind instantly goes blank.

There’s an endless list of reasons why you shouldn’t do it. Just because it’s a dream doesn’t mean it isn’t a bad idea. Then again…when has that ever stopped you from being with Kate Bishop?

It’s subtle but you lean forward just enough to give her the invitation she’s too much of a gentleman to ask for. Her eyes widen the slightest bit before she meets you in the middle, the space between your lips becoming nonexistent in the span of a few seconds.

You try your hardest to hold on to your self control, to not seem as desperate as you’ve felt since that first night, but it’s useless. Your hands grip the front of her shirt in an attempt to pull her closer despite how insane everything is.

You’re simply dreaming and yet you can feel every touch, every breath, every desperate effort to make your desires a reality. You would feel embarrassed if Kate wasn’t acting the same way.

Her lips leave yours only to trail down to your neck, her fangs instantly teasing the sensitive skin she finds. The anticipation builds inside your chest as she toys with you and it’s all you can do not to beg for more.

“Kate.” Her name leaves your lips in the form of a whisper that disappears just as fast as it formed.

All you hear is her sharp intake of breath before it all fades to black.

Your eyes snap open and you’re greeted with the absolute silence you’re starting to associate with Wanda’s cabin. All you can do is lay there in the darkness, your heart pounding in your ears while your fingers trace the spot Kate’s lips had just been on.

It had all felt so real and now you’re all alone again. It shouldn’t be surprising at this point and yet you still hold on to the hope Kate will come looking for you.

But she doesn’t.

All she does is haunt your dreams in the most literal way possible. She doesn’t come to find you and fix your many, many issues, instead, she simply appears in your dreams long enough to send your mind reeling without offering any solutions.

You wish you could hate her for doing this to you but you can’t.

You love her.

Worse than that, you love her more and more each night. Even though it’s not nearly enough to heal any of your wounds, and maybe it only serves to hurt you more, it’s definitely addicting.

Wanda offers to help you sever the connection between you and Kate, something about a spell she read in the Darkhold being her only assurance that she knows what she’s doing. You don’t fully trust her on that but you do consider the option for longer than you want to admit.

You reason with yourself that there are much worse things to deal with on a daily basis than highly realistic dreams, though. That being bonded to a vampire isn't the worst thing in the world.

And maybe that would be true…if the vampire in question wasn't Kate Bishop.

You don't know what possesses you to ask but the question slips out in the middle of another midnight rendezvous. It’s been a little over two month since you moved away from New York, a little over two months since you've shared these weird dreams with Kate, when you finally ask.

“What exactly did you do for us to be bonded to each other?”

The question must catch her off guard given the way her eyes widen in panic. “What?”

“You said these weird dreams happen because we’re bonded or something but you never explained how that happened.” You watch the brunette from your spot on the couch and impatiently wait for a response, for something that will help you make sense of everything.

She swallows back her nervousness but gives herself away due to the way she fidgets with the rings on her hand. “Oh, yeah, that…it’s because I bit you that night in my apartment…remember?”

Her awkwardness would be endearing if her response wasn't so damn suspicious.

“Yeah but you're a vampire, biting people is kind of your thing. You're not automatically bonded to every person you bite, right?”

A beat of silence passes before she answers, her voice shaking the slightest bit. “No that…that only happens when there are…certain feelings involved.”

It takes a second for her answer to click in your brain. For her sudden nervousness to hold real meaning.

The answer hits you like a train and it makes your blood boil like nothing else.

“Kate, tell me that doesn't mean what I think it means. Tell me you didn't fire me because you were too afraid of having feelings for me.”

“y/n-”

“For fuck’s sake, Kate!”

The sudden frustration in your voice makes her jump, hundreds of meaningless explanations forming on the tip of her tongue.

You don't hear a word she says.

You can't hear anything besides the pounding in your heart and the devastation that threatens to swallow you whole.

You always knew being with Kate would be impossible but this was something else entirely. This wasn't a lack of feelings between you two, this was too many feelings and too many miles of distance and not one ounce of regret from her.

You're not sure when you stood up from your spot or when she approached you, you simply feel her hand on your waist and the unmistakable sound of her breathing.

“y/n,” she tries again. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so tired of hearing you say that.”

“I know.”

The last thing you feel is her lips on the back of your neck before you wake up. Alone. Again.

Wanda must catch on to your desperation because she brings up the idea of cutting your connection with Kate that same morning.

“It’ll only be temporary,” she assures you. “No offense but you need sleep more than you need Kate Bishop.”

“I’m a little offended,” you grumble in response.

Despite your reservations, and the voice in the back of your head that tells you running away again is a bad idea, you go along with her plan. She's right, after all. You definitely need some time away from Kate Bishop and her never-ending messes.

The spell is simpler than you expect and it, thankfully, requires pretty much no effort on your part and no weird liquids.

It does also bring the best sleep you’ve had in months so you can’t complain…even when you wake up missing the sound of the archer’s voice.

You still miss her every day and you're sure that won't change any time soon but you welcome the peace with open arms.

Wanda spends her time teaching you random spells while you help her build a nice flower garden in the backyard. It's weird but…comforting.

You could even get used to life out here someday.

At least, that's what you keep telling yourself as the weeks go by.

Until Kate shows up unannounced and flips your world upside down again with those same soft eyes you fell on love with all those months ago.

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allieslittlewritings · 2 months ago

Text

*not my gif <3

Baby Girl

Summary: Spencer getting a baby daughter

Set in: Season 13-14

Warnings: Spoilers for seasons 8-13 of Criminal Minds, vague mention of abortion, bad writing, an oc!mom

Word count: 900-1k

A/n: I've never posted a fic before so if this sucks and nobody sees it I'm sorry <3

★

Spencer always thought in an ideal world, he would have children.

He never bothered to think of how many, knowing that would be more up to his future wife than to him.

He'd always just assumed he'd get married before having children one day.

After everything that had happened to him, Maeve dying, going to prison, the shit Cat had pulled, finding out his mom had Altzheimer's, and everything else that was certainly less than ideal, he'd started to think more and more that he simply wasn't meant to be a dad.

When a girl he'd only gone on a few dates with, months ago, told him she needed to talk to him, he was confused.

Emma was a nice girl, they just didn't fit well together so their relationship didn't last long.

She'd asked him to meet her at a random coffee shop.

He had the idea of her being pregnant for one second before he convinced himself that was ridiculous.

He entered the coffee shop Emma had chosen and went to sit accross from her.

Some boring small talk followed about how their careers and lives were going.

"Spencer, I'm pregnant." Emma finaally blurted out, clearly nervous.

Spencer had heard a lot of radicalizing things in his life.

A lot of unexpected things had happened to him.

In his line of work, a lot of things altered his perspective and way of thinking.

This one was different.

"You're..." He trailed off in shock.

"Look, I'm gonna be honest, I don't want the baby, but I'm too far along now to get an abortion. I'm about to start looking for potential adoptive parents, but I thought maybe you'd want input on who it goes to, too."

As muddled and confused as Spencer's brain felt, he immediately replied, "No. I'll take it. I mean, I'll take care of it. Of the baby."

"Are you sure you want to do that? You've already got a lot on your plate..." She pointed out.

"I'm sure." He said softly, without an ounce of hesitation.

★

Spencer was in an odd haze everytime he remembered he was about to become a parent.

He knew it wouldn't be easy, taking care of a child and having such a demanding job.

But he also knew he could never live with the knowledge that he had a child somewhere and they're not with them.

If they're with him, he can keep them safe.

He could make sure his child didn't grow up alone, like he did.

★

Spencer and his baby's mother sat quietly in a waiting room.

Spencer was attending his first ultrasound.

He sat, in thought.

A nearly empty cup of coffee in his right hand.

His lip was being lightly picked at with his left.

He took one last sip of his coffee and went to throw the now empty cup away.

His sweaty hands were starting to annoy him.

The restless feeling wouldn't go away.

Emma's name was called and the pair went into the ultrasound room.

Spencer picked at his fingers as he watched Emma and the ultrasound tech set everything up.

Lost in thought, he didn't hear any of the little things the women talked about.

Everything in him froze when he heard it.

A heartbeat.

His baby's heartbeat.

"So, would you like to know the baby's gender?" The doctor asked.

The women looked at Spencer, waiting for an answer.

He stood dumbfoundedly, staring at the grainy image of his baby on the moniter.

Their heartbeat still the loudest, best thing he'd ever heard.

"Spencer?" Emma gently nudged him.

Spencer finally snapped out of his haze and quickly wiped away a stray tear rolling down his face.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Would you like to know the sex of the baby?" The doctor asked again.

"Uh, no. No, I want it to be a surprise." His eyes remained on the moniter, he couldn't pull his eyes away from it.

★

Spencer prepared for the day Emma gave birth as best he could.

He was actually grateful for his sabbaticals now, it gave him a lot more prep time.

He read about a hundred books on labor and childbirth.

And give or take twice as many on actual parenting and child care.

He did as much research as humanly possible.

But one thing he'd learned over the years, is no matter how much research you do or how many books you read, the actual topic you're researching and preparing for is never quite the same.

★

His anxiety in the last few weeks before the baby came skyrocketed.

Worry overtook him nearly every minute of the day.

What if he hasn't done enough?

What if there's something important that slipped his mind?

What if he'll actually be a terrible father and he'll mess up the best thing to ever happen to him?

What if he-

"It's a girl!" The doctor announced.

Much like when he heard his daughter's heartbeat for the first time, he froze.

A girl.

He had a daughter.

She was here.

He watched as the doctors and nurses scurried around doing things, to make sure his baby was well and healthy.

His baby.

He had a baby.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Covered in blood and vernix, his daughter.

Her loud, very infant-like cries filled the room.

Not a new sound to the doctors, they continued with their routine work.

It was the most grounded Spencer had felt in months.

She was here.

His baby was here and she needed him almost as much he needed her.

★

Spencer tiredly rubbed his eyes, the wide range of emotions from the day catching up to him.

He walked tiredly to the room where Y/N was, a hint of confusion on his face.

The exhaustion was evident in his posture and his droopy eyes.

But now was not the time to sleep, he was walking to go be with his daughter.

He entered the room she was in and sat down in a chair next to the basin his baby lay in.

"Hi," He whispered to her, gently resting his hand on her tiny stomach.

His baby gurgled and looked up at him with big eyes.

A tired smile graced his face as he gently stroked his daughter's head.

He could stay there forever.

Just him and his daughter.

She was the most the beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"We're gonna be okay, aren't we?" He quietly asked her.

His baby gripped his finger with her hand, continuing to quietly make baby noises.

"Yeah. We're gonna be okay."

fin. ♡

#spencer reid x daughter!reader #spencer reid x child!reader #spencer reid #daughter!reader #criminal minds #fanfiction #bad writing #allieslittlewritings ★

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weareallstoriesintheend · 1 year ago

Text

Caught (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Matt finds you ✨engrossed✨ in watching CCTV footage from Daredevils latest fight and he can't help but notice how much you like it.

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, fingering, talk of violence

Commissions are now open on Etsy!

It wasn’t often that you googled Daredevil.

Last night Matt had been out longer than usual and he had kept all too quiet about it this morning so you decided it was time to change that.

You’d heard him sneak in through the bedroom window at around 4am, the slip of suit fabric from his skin was louder cause your ears pricked up to it in your half-asleep state. In the dark you imagined what each tap and bump was before he slipped under the covers beside you. You could picture him in your mind, kicking his heavy boots under the dresser and flicking the cumbersome suit over the back of the chair that sat against your oak vanity and placing his helmet next to your hairbrush on the side.

The dip of the mattress fully stirred you, the heat of another body joining you under the grey silk sheets.

You hoped he wasn’t aware you were awake but you turned over, sleepily nuzzling into his shoulder as he lay on his back. Your worry before bed had made your sleep restless so, as usual, you gravitated to him the second you knew he was safe. You chanced a peak and his eyes were unfocused towards the end of the bed but his chin was tilted down in your direction.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, eyebrows pulling down regretfully.

“How did you know?” your voice sounded groggy through the heaviness of sleep.

Matt smiled softly, kissing the top of your head, “Your breathing changed.”

“You scare me,” You joked before yawning, nestling yourself against his arm and closing your eyes once again.

---------

Come the morning he was not forthcoming with where he’d been, “I just went further than usual, didn’t realize and it took longer to get back is all.”

Matt tried to play it off with a joke in his tone as he fiddled with his tie, opening his mouth so you could slide a piece of buttered toast between his teeth.

“Matt, you didn’t answer me. Where did you go so late?”

He shrugged, picking up his jacket and grasping the slice of toast between two fingers, “Nowhere special,” he mumbled between chews and he headed out to the office. Your sigh of defeat was punctured by the slam of the door.

---------

After work, in a quiet apartment, you sat down on the bed, laptop perched on your crossed legs, as you set about googling him. It wasn’t something you liked to do, choosing to stay as far away from his double life as possible.

Immediately a new article popped up, posted 6 hours ago.

‘Daredevil is Suspect in Mass Brawl’

The first thing that popped up before the article even began was a video. Clearly CCTV footage from the grainy, black and white image.

For some reason the thought of watching this felt wrong, a part of him he didn’t want you to see. But you were suddenly, unexplainably curious.

Matt was sweet, complicated but sweet, so there was a part of you that couldn’t imagine that level of violence you’d heard Daredevil had been involved in.

You’d seen him do things before, on the news, prior to your knowledge it was him. But here, alone in your apartment, something deep within you encouraged you on to press play.

At first you flinched, listening to the guttural sound of pain and violence. When whoever had acquired the video edited it to zoom in you questioned yourself on how you’d never know Daredevil was Matt before he told you, the recognizable sharpness of his jaw and the baring of his teeth that you’d seen in very different circumstances.

The call back to more intimate times made a dangerous connection in your mind. A pathway formed as your eyes took in blow after blow of his fist. Heat pooled low in your stomach and your spine straightened.

Something about his ease to violence scared you but his clear ability to revel in his effortless capabilities made you shudder with pleasure. His body was so strong and lithe, he took blows as often has he landed them but they only seemed to spur him on.

The line of his back distracted you, bringing strong shoulders down to slender hips, and once again you wondered how you never knew.

You chewed your lip harshly, as you became entranced the video suddenly stopped. Without thinking you scrolled it back and allowed it to begin again.

----------

He was smiling before he even made it through the door, he wasn’t sure what he could hear but he had guesses, suspicions, of what you were up to within the private walls of your shared apartment.

Slowly he clicked open the lock, determined to remain undetectable to your busy ears.

Toeing off his boots he pads in socked feet across the wooden floor towards the door to the bedroom. Carefully running his hand along it, he noticed it was open.

Dropping his shoulder against the frame he took in his own personal kind of view. The senses you kindled in him were tantalizing every time.

His tongue tingled like you were already flooding it, his nostrils flared at the sweet scent of perfume that floated off the nape of your neck as your hair dropped from your shoulder.

An almost silent, breathy, “Fuck,” left your lips and Matt bit his lip to keep from laughing. His hand dropped, rubbing just above his cock through his suit pants as if trying to deter the throb that pulsed through him.

Your skin was hot and he knew just what that meant, he didn’t need to know you as well he did to know how you felt. The smell of you, drifting through his nose and igniting his taste buds, was enough to clue him on your intentions.

Matt heard as your chest rose faster, breath quickening, accompanied by the slick sound of your tongue licking out over your lips as you remained engrossed in the screen.

His nails dug into the wood of the doorframe to prevent himself from stepping into the room for a little longer. As soon as he moved, he knew you would pick up on his presence, he wanted to bathe in your indulgence a little longer.

The sounds of what you were watching caused flashbacks of his previous evening; the dawning smirk of recognition slid up his cheek. The smirk broke into a grin when he heard the sound your fingers hesitantly twitching against fabric, inching ever closer to sliding under the hem of your little lounge shorts he guessed, like your brain and fingers were in an unbeatable tussle of right and wrong.

Matt took you in in fascination as the video came to an obvious end and your fingers tapped away and it started over. He wondered to himself how long you’d been at this, how long you’d basically edged yourself watching him beat the shit out of a group of dumb thugs trying to rob a warehouse.

As much as he struggled to admit it, Matt knew he got off on the ease of his skills in these situations but he was surprised to discover so did you.

Matt heard the almost silent sound of moving fabric and he knew you were getting twitchy. He stepped forward just a little, the urge to play with you taking over.

---------

“Having fun?” Matt’s voice felt louder than intended as it broke through the quiet tension. You jumped, hands gripping your laptop to stop it falling from your lap.

Now your breath certainly was loud as the adrenaline pumped through your veins, it did nothing to still the stirring of Matts cock as the rush of blood around your body made the room flood with your scent. Your heartbeat thudded against his eardrums as he stepped away from the door.

“I didn’t know you… y-you’re home?” You stammered, clumsily tripping over your words as you tried to remain collected. Casually, keeping your eyes on him, you fumbled to close the laptop lid. The tap of it shutting cause the video to stop and suddenly the room was very silent.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek you tried to subdue your irritation at the smug look on his face.

“Are we really going to pretend that I don’t know what you were doing?”

You scoffed, “Watching the news? I don’t see why we need to pretend about that. Also… now I know where you went last night, why didn’t you tell me it was that bad?”

Matt laughed, arrogant and cocksure, “Oh no no no. We’re not going to do this right now, don’t even try it.”

You still pressed on, lacing your tone with worry, “You were in serious danger, Matt, that was a lot of…”

“…Shhhhh.”

Moving slowly, he let his knees hit the end of the bed, something about the roll of his shoulders and the way his body thrummed with pent up energy made you want to move back. Resting back on your hands you made to move yourself up the bed, edge yourself back from the weight of his presence but you didn’t get a chance.

Faster than lightening, his calloused fingers wrapped around your ankle holding you steady. You yelped, although upon reflection it sounded closer to an embarrassing whimper.

“We both know I can handle myself just fine,” he said, voice so low it rumbled in his chest.

Grabbing onto both of your ankles now he manhandled you, dragging you to him, the shock to your system made your body go limp and he was able to spin you half onto your front. Getting the idea, you helped him out with a huff of effort, shuffling so that you comfortably lay flat on your stomach.

Frozen in anticipation you stared at the sheets, wide-eyed. His labored breathing sent tickles up your spine when you heard it, the growl that hung heavy in his throat. His hands explored your calves, massaging and squeezing their way up.

“Maybe I should take you along some time,” he mused.

You swallowed harshly, “What do you mean?”

“If it gets you off so much,” he said plainly. You gasped, face flushing with embarrassment to hear him say it so matter of factly.

“I’d make sure you’re safe, out of harms reach but close enough to see me. Maybe you could slip your hand into your soaked panties and touch yourself for me. I would be able to smell the sweetness of this pretty pussy mixed with a bitter twinge of their blood.”

You’d lost the ability to control your breathing, your chest pushing down against the mattress making it hard to catch your breath. Matt chuckled, his hands sliding up your thighs to your ass, grabbing handfuls for a harsh squeeze.

He was in his own world you could tell, at this point he wasn’t thinking of your pleasure but his own. The exploration of your body was his fuel right now and you were a willing form of sustenance.

“Imagine that angel, you… touching yourself in public for me. That gorgeous wet sound reaching my ears to drown out their pathetic pleas for mercy.”

Gulping you asked, trying your luck, “What if they saw me?”

“I’d rip their spine out through their throat before they got the chance to take one step in your direction.”

You closed your eyes tight, as if trying to wake yourself from the possibility of imagining this, “Holy shit,” you breathed.

Suddenly his body weight pushed you down, he lay himself the length of you and propped himself up with hands either side of your shoulders. He nuzzled into your hair, pressing his lips to the curve of your ear.

“Oh, you like that huh?” Matt teased, despite his weight on top of you he pushed his hand underneath you. Wriggling it down between your legs he pushed and pulled with an intoxicating sense of urgency until his fingers slipper over the fabric of your panties. His fingers met with soaked cotton and he let out a shaky breath.

The cocky bite of a laugh he let out made you scrunch your eyes closed, “Hmmm yeah, you like that idea.”

The room felt like it was caving in with heat, the fabric of your clothes felt too close like you were suffocating in the best way. You wanted him, this moment, to drown you as you clawed at the sheets whilst his finger circled on your clit at an agonizingly slow pace.

They were purposeful yet lazy circles, his touch was so attuned to you that he no longer needed your input. Matt could just take you.

You arched your hips up into him, unable to move much under him. You whimpered at the feeling; a second finger brushed over your clit as he pushed his cock back against you.

The sound of his whisper made the muscles in your lower stomach clench violently, “That’s ok angel, let me take care of you. Poor thing.”

Your breath shook as the air pressed from your lungs with another thrust of his hips and you choked on the last air you had as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder.

“Matty,” you gasped, whimpering at the rush of pain and pleasure that thudded through your core. His fingers sped up and your hips twitched as the sudden bolt of pleasure that climbed up your spine.

“Atta girl,” his voice sent vibrations along your skin, “That’s it.”

Matt was still pressing himself into you, uncaring that his hand was crushed beneath you. His body weight felt delicious on you, holding you grounded as your nerves lost their sense of reality, head swimming with the heat and the pressure. Your hips ground down hungrily seeking out more as he coaxed you on, “There you go, that’s my girl.”

You whined desperately, and he laughed, his teasing tone only fueling your spiral towards your climax, “Oh I know, I know.”

Your body shook violently, muscles tensing as you plunged over the edge. Matt’s fingers never relented as you squirmed your way through a harsh orgasm. Your loud cries made him grin, you could feel it as he rested against your shoulder blade, kissing your overheated skin.

His fingers left you, slowly, and your entire body felt like it was sinking through the mattress as your muscles released their tension. Your breathing rattled through your chest as you fought to steady it.

You heard the wet sound of him sucking his fingers by your ear, unable to respond as your body tried to come down from it’s high.

Once again, his lips were close and he whispered, “Now let’s hear more of what you were thinking about hmmm?”

#matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #daredevil x reader #daredevil smut #mcu #charlie cox

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somedayillbepeterpan · 4 months ago

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I have thought about Colin Bridgerton every single day since June 13. I love him so much, he plagues my mind. If you have been here for a while, you know that I've been lauding how Luke Newton has played Colin brilliantly and I will continue to pile on that praise because I cannot resist this pookie bear.

So, here's my favourite S3 smiles of my favourite sweet, soft boi. He progressively shows his toothy smile less and less from the latter part of S1 and S2 and beginning of S3 so I adore it when I see this smile. I just love love love when I see Luke Newton's toothy smile. He doesn't do it often when you carefully look at all the press tour photos and interviews.

I'm working on S1 and S2 smiles, too. Stay tuned!

S3E6 - Romancing Mr. Bridgerton He just made one of his dad jokes to Pen and made her smile. Nothing spells in love like this sweet, shy smile

S3E6 - Romancing Mr. Bridgerton Possibly the biggest smile I've seen on him when Pen tells him that she's always loved him. Gaaah, I can drown in this smile forever. It's this smile that makes the angst in the latter part so hard to watch. This pookie bear, in pain??? It was definitely hard to go through seeing the pain and confusion in his face.

S3E6 - Romancing Mr. Bridgerton His smile every time he twirls his two apples wife (I'm sorry for cutting Pen's face). That is the look of a fulfilled man.

S3E7 - Joining of hands I saw an interview (not sure which one) where Luke elaborates on the emotions he played Colin in throughout the wedding. He said that he just let him be swept up in the joy of the moment and that is why we get this beautiful wedding smile. Look at those eyes! We knew the conflict they were in but this is one of the hard evidences that he would never, ever give up Pen.

S3E8 - Into the light (sorry for the grainy gif. this was zoomed in at max capacity) Every single dance they've had (even the wedding one), Colin would display his truest emotions. It's why they have 5 dances throughout the season as compared to Saphne and Kanthony's 2 each (if I'm remembering correctly). This last dance, where he finally settles in his emotions saw him the happiest as evidence on the next gif.

S3E8 - Into the light Look at this pookie's face! It's the first smile where he closes his eyes fully-- embracing the joy he's feeling. This and the next gif's smiles are my absolute favourites. I can stare at this smiling face all day.

BONUS

S3E5 - Tik Tok To the sweetest sex scene I've seen in my life, I will never get over you. Because you give me this man's absolutely smitten face. And those fiery eyes??? Are you kidding me? I can make essays about the mirror scene. That intimacy is not easily replicated and I'll always compare this scene to every other intimacy scene I see on screen from now on.

(Stunning work from Luke and Nic)

I cap this post off with this RMB quote:

“I love you for every one of my smiles, and even more, for every one of your smiles.” - Colin Bridgerton to Penelope Bridgerton Excerpt From Romancing Mr. Bridgerton Julia Quinn | This material may be protected by copyright.

#i love him so much #colin's smiles #i smile for every one of his smile #my sweet soft boi #you plague my mind #colin bridgerton #polin #bridgerton #luke newton #i'll continually praise Luke Newton's work

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austinslounge · 3 months ago

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Those pics you posted of them in NYC a few weeks ago, they are just sad to look at. Austin is walking ahead of her. She's trying desperately to hang onto this relationship, You can tell. She's 'chasing' after him so to speak. Not literally (well a little bit) but more figuratively. But the stark difference in just a year is crazy. Even last fall, Austin was still holding her hand and trying to make an effort. Now he's just as you said checked out.

I've always felt that Kaia is way out of her depth when it comes to Austin. The 10 year age gap have become more prominent, especially the last year. I see videos of Austin and just the confidence, dedication, and sex appeal this man displays. I don't feel like a girl like Kaia knows what to do with a MAN like Austin. Because he is a man and she comes off still as an immature teenager.

He really does need someone who's on his level and his age, to be frank. It's was so apparent when he was going press with Jodie. How much more natural their chemistry was together. They were on the same level. Not saying he wants to date Jodie. But a woman like Jodie who exudes confidence, and takes her career seriously.

I really don't know what either of them is waiting for and why they are letting this relationship carry on for so long. It's just sad watching two people who deserve to find happiness (everyone deserves happiness) and choose to be miserable.

Girl yes! The coldness in those NYC pics (even the ones before he went to the Indy500 event mind you) was pretty telling. Even Kaia's face looked done lol. 😄

The way Austin is with Kaia is especially weird and odd, considering that we know how much Austin loves to smile, and also considering how Austin is with other women he's been romantically linked with.

Nobody can look at the recent pictures of Austin and Kaia and tell me that they don't see a stark difference between how he is with her (especially lately) and how he's been with other women he's been with.

And you can tell these latter pics were not staged either, because the photos are all grainy lol.

If people can't tell the stark difference between Austin and Kaia and Austin and just about any woman lol, then Idk what else to say. 😅

Same.

Granted, they were selling a movie, but I agree with you. Jodie seemed way more his speed, the chemistry between them was effortless, and Austin just had more LIFE with her, like he had with those other women I posted above.

I may catch flack for saying this, but I actually think that Austin would do better with an older woman tbh. I recall hearing a while back that he actually has a preference for older women. 🤔 Not sure how true that is, but it would make sense to me. He seems to like confident women.

I'm honestly not sure either tbh. They both look like they'd be happier with other people tbh. 😂 They are almost giving Ben & JLo vibes before their divorce became public lol.

I'm going to be SO curious to see who each of them date after this, and if we see a very stark difference in how they are with their new partners lol. 👀🤭

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midnight1199 · 3 months ago

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Fated To Meet You

PAIRING: Jake Sully x Reader

WARNINGS:slight!angst, avatar!reader, fem!reader, AU, happy!ending hopefully, not beta read, mild swearing

NOTES: Hello lovelies, let me begin with how sorry I am for the delay in posting. I'm still trying to figure out a schedule, so please be patient as I work some things out. As of now, we're still on track with the movies with just minor changes in plot. I completely forgot to add translations in the last chapter sooo here you go, end notes with translations! Hope you like this next installment, I can't wait to hear your thoughts!

SUMMARY: The first time you saw him, you felt pity for him—Jake. Maybe that was the spark that would lead to the inferno of feelings you would hold until your last breath on Pandora.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The link room looked exactly like the rest of Hell’s Gate, an amalgamation of mechanical greys and hospital room whites. Coffin-like pods lined the walls of the circular room with a round desk and chairs in the middle; holographic screens flashed data and live feed from the inside of the link pods. Scientists were running to and fro between one link pod and the other. Grace was already in the link room by the time you had arrived, cigarette in hand. Max signals the three of you toward your respective pods, starting with Norm.

“So how much time have you logged?”, Grace turns to Norm but you’re sure this question carries for both Jake and you as well.

“Uh, about five hundred twenty hours.”

“That’s good”, she motions to the first pod to Norm, “You go over there”. You see her turning towards you, “How about you, L/N?” "Roughly three hundred hours”, you respond. Grace hums lightly and motions to the pod next to Norm’s. A scientist is standing near the computer next to the pod waiting to calibrate you to your Avatar— decanted and ready for the neuro link. You head towards your pod and distantly you can hear the same question repeated to Jake, but you don’t end up catching his response, though you assume it wouldn’t be something Grace would be happy with.

You run your hand over the gel bed and press a finger in, the squishiness of it takes you aback a bit. “That’s gonna take getting used to”, you mutter. A giggle reaches your ears, and you look up to see your link tech smiling at you in amusement. Blushing lightly, you quickly gather yourself and lie down in the link pod. Both Norm and Jake do the same, with Jake snapping at Grace as she moves to help him. You pull the attached brace over your torso as the link tech steps in to attach and check the neural sensors to your forehead.

“Ready?”, she asks.

“Ready.”, you shoot her a thumbs up. The pod lid is closed on you, and you can’t help but compare it to the inside of a coffin, although your training has you used to the sensation, it still feels eerie nonetheless. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes. The world behind your eyelids erupts into colours and the next thing you know you’re overloaded with a cacophony of voices, and the light in the room is entirely too bright for you. Blinking slowly, you see two med techs speaking something to you, you open your mouth to respond and are surprised to find how grainy and dry it feels. “Sorry guys didn’t catch that”, you smile sheepishly. You feel your ears flick on your head and wow doesn’t that sound weird.

You sit up slowly on the gurney and swing your legs down, on either side of you lie Norm and Jake. Though Norm, it seems, has been awake before you and is well into getting his motor functions tested. A commotion from the right of you drags your attention to Jake and it is not a moment later that you see his bare ass disappear through the now-open lab door as alarms start blaring all around you. Scrambling to your feet, you stumble along behind him. “I’ll bring him back, I promise!”, you exclaim to the med techs as you race after Jake. You feel your tail swinging to balance you as you run after the blue Marine. Naked feet digging into the dirt, you nearly bowl over a few avatars in your haste to catch up to Jake. The man is still as you approach him but turns around as you get closer. The laugh that he lets out as he turns to you makes your heart stutter, makes you stop in your tracks, breathless (you’re not sure if it’s because of the running or the mesmerizing man in front of you). You’ve never seen him laugh as happily as the one you hear now.

“Hey Marine!”, a call rings out. There’s an avatar walking towards you, and it is only as she gets closer that you’re able to put a name to the face.

“Grace?”, Jake is faster than you.

“Well, who’d you expect, numbnuts? Think fast!”, she tosses something at the both of you. You instinctively catch it and look down to see it’s a Pandoran Banana fruit. A squelch and a groan shifts your attention to Jake and he’s halfway into devouring his. Not one to be shy, you take a bite out of yours. The sound you let out is distinctively obscene and judging by the way Grace covers her face in amusement, you haven’t been as quiet as you hoped you would be.

The stomps of another pair of footsteps drag your attention to another figure entering the clearing–Norm. It seems he had finally caught up to you. The poor guy is bent over, breathing hard and you’re getting concerned. “Are you okay, Nor-“ “I… am a living God!”, he interrupts and poses. The ridiculousness of the statement is all it takes and the group of you are laughing like crazy.

The rest of the day is spent acclimatizing yourself to your new Avatar body. As promised, you drag Jake back, kicking and screaming, to the med techs. You catch his eye and smirk as you watch him get berated by humans less than half his size. As night approaches, you are herded by Grace into an outhouse on the RDA compound. Laying down on your charpoy bed and hear Jake do the same, there’s a silence that fills the air around the both of you and you don’t wish to be the first one to break it.

“Don’t play with that, you’ll go blind”, you murmur.

He drops his braid and huffs lightly. Slowly turning to him, you whisper “Goodnight, Jake” and just as you feel yourself linking out you hear his whispered response.

“Goodnight, Y/N”

The next day finds you bathed and ready in the link room at 0800, as you wait for the others to gather. Today you’ll be allowed to step foot into the actual wilderness of Pandora. Grace had wanted to collect a few root samples and as the fresh new hires, Norm and you were chosen to shadow her along with Jake, who would be accompanying you as a security detail should anything go wrong. A few minutes later, you are linked up and gathered near the Samson with your utility bag thrown over your shoulders. Grace introduces Norm and you to Trudy, your pilot for the day. You don’t miss the fact that Jake already seems to know Trudy and to some extent, Lyle- the RDA soldier accompanying you as human escort, and soon after you’re ready for liftoff.

The sky felt alive, the air was rich with life. You lean out the door from the Samson, and even the trees look more lively in comparison to those planted in the Avatar compound. You make a note to look into the scientific aspects of that once you touch the ground but for now, you let yourself close your eyes and feel the air rushing past you. The exuberance you feel in that moment is incomparable.

“Careful!”, a voice snaps you out of your enjoyment and you turn to Jake who is currently manning the MG on the helo.

You pull yourself back and send him a sheepish grin, “Sorry!”.

Twenty minutes later, you find yourself on the ground as Grace walks around to relay further instructions to Trudy. Lyle is left back with Trudy and the Samson, with Jake tasked with the duty of looking out for dangers.

The trees were much bigger than you had expected, much more vibrant, and to an extent much more dangerous. Your ears flick around with the sounds of the forest, the chirps of the creatures hidden in the foliage. You see Jake’s hands tighten in a white-knuckled grip over the gun as a few Prolemuris swing from the branches overhead and it is only after Grace snaps at him to calm down that he finally loosens his grip over the weapon. Stumbling your way over the vines, Grace leads you to a very man-made structure in a small clearing. It’s long been abandoned, with nature reclaiming parts of the small building.

Grace enters first, and you follow soon after. “This was our school, now it's just… storage”, the disappointment in her voice is evident. “The kids were so bright, eager to learn. Picked up English faster than I could teach it”, she reminisces as she sets a book down on a nearby shelf. You bend down to pick another book up; the title catches your eye- The Lorax by Dr. Seuss. Maybe English wasn’t the only thing Grace wished for the children to pick up on.

She guides Norm and you as you gather the supplies needed for the tests. The place is incredibly dusty, but the supplies are undisturbed and in good condition.

“What happened here?”, Jake’s question prompts the three of you to turn around and you are unable to silence the gasp that you let out at what you see. Bullet holes, a blackboard riddled with bullet holes in a school. Grace doesn’t reply, instead snaps at Jake to help out with the gear. Even without her answer, it was quite clear what had happened— The RDA had opened fire in a school full of children.

With the mood now turned grim, Grace ushers your group out of the school to continue with the task you had intended to accomplish. Walking for a few minutes, you are stopped by Grace gesturing for Norm and you to kneel, she proceeds to pierce the root of a nearby tree with a needle attached to a holo-tab. Both Norm and you switch your attention to the holo-tab held in Norm’s hand as the screen erupts into a colourful cacophony of violets and blues. “That’s signal transduction”, you gasp, “it's that fast!?” “Amazing, isn’t it?”, she responds. While Norm proceeds to collect samples under Grace’s instructions, a flash of glowing white in your peripherals makes you whip your head in its direction; you don’t see anything suspicious but you can't help but squint into the bushes. You look around the clearing for an answer but are soon distracted by Jake wandering off toward a cluster of Helicoradians. Meanwhile, Grace and Norm are busy discussing the collected sample. Seeing your chance, you amble off towards Jake. It’s your first time seeing the plants you’ve seen only in pictures, in person. Orange and cream-coloured spirals that retract at the slightest hint of disturbance.

Jake reaches out to touch one of the Helicoradian before you get a chance to stop him, you hurry toward him as you watch the chain reaction of the entire cluster coil and retract into the ground in mounting horror, which is further increased as now the both of you are face to face with a Hammerhead Titanothere. An angry Hammerhead Titanothere.

You freeze in terror and you see Jake raise his rifle to aim at the animal.

“Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot, you’ll piss him off.” Grace’s voice rings out in your coms, you see her and Norm crouched behind a few trees.

“It’s already pissed off.” You hear Jake respond, unknowingly you have your hand clasped on his arm.

“Jake, that armor’s too thick. Trust me. It’s a territorial threat. Do not run, or he’ll charge.”

“So what do I do, dance with it?”

“Just hold your ground.”

Unfortunately, you holding your ground did not mean the Titanothere wouldn’t as it charged towards you. Jake rushes by you with both his hands up and screaming, surprisingly the tactic seems to work, and you see the animal back away towards its herd. You laugh in disbelief as Jake continues to mock the retreating animal.

“Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about, bitch. That's right, get your punk ass back to mommy.”

The snapping of twigs behind you makes you turn around. Chilled to your bone at what you see you slowly call out to Jake. “Jake? Turn around slowly, no big moves”, maybe it’s the fear in your voice but you hear Jake follow your instructions and his breath hitching lets you know exactly when he sees the creature in front of you.

“Ah, shit.”

The Thanator jumps over you and chases after the Titanothere before it turns around and snarls at you, the tentacles on its head flaring as a sign of aggression.

“So what about this one? Run? Don’t run? What?”

You’re already yanking Jake after you before Grace even manages to reply, “Run! Definitely run!”

Admittedly, running through the jungles of Pandora with a bloodthirsty Thanator chasing your asses was not something you had on your bingo card for the year. Neither was getting separated from Jake as you leap from a waterfall to escape from said Thanator. You hit the water with a splash, the impact forcing the breath out of you. “Don’t let go!”, you hear Jake scream as he tries to grab onto your hand tighter, but you feel your grip slipping. Panic seizes you as the current pulls you away from the shore.

“Jake-!”, your voice is lost as your grip completely loosens and you’re swept under the water. Your lungs burn as you struggle to breathe only to inhale more water. Your vision swam in shades of grey as you get tossed about in rocky waters. You close your eyes and let yourself get carried by the current, you’re too tired to fight anymore. The adrenaline of the chase has leached out every ounce of your energy.

Just as you’re losing the last bit of your consciousness, you feel a tug on your clothing. Had the Thanator finally managed to catch you? Oh well, that was just your luck. You just hope Jake is safe.

A soft tingle on your eyelid manages to tickle you back to consciousness. Eyes closed, you lift your hand to rub your face only to grab hold of something soft and warm. Your eyes snap open and you jerk yourself up in a sitting position.

“I’m alive? I’m alive!”, you laugh in delight before it strikes you that you have something in your hand. Opening your fist, you’re surprised to see a small jellyfish-like white creature float up to your eye level.

“Atokirina”, you whisper in surprise.

It bobs, gently, before you and floats away towards the treeline only to stop and continue bobbing as if beckoning you to follow. You shrug and push yourself up to your feet, it’s getting dark, and you certainly aren’t anywhere close to base camp. Following the sacred spirit seems like the best option for now, especially considering how you’ve lost your voice com and have no fucking idea where the hell you are.

“Well, here goes nothing.” You follow after the Atokirina as it playfully floats ahead of you, deeper into the forest, guiding you.

You’re not sure how long you walk, but the sky has completely darkened and Polyphemus shines high in the night sky. Sometime in the middle of your walk, you are surrounded by more woodsprites. A few rest on your head and arms, while the others bob around you encasing you in a gentle white halo. You wonder if Jake is fine, you haven’t seen any movement around you aside from yours and can only hope Grace and Norm are on their way to send help to the both of you. You’re now sure how long you’d be able to survive in the forest with just your utility knife as a weapon, currently strapped to your outer thigh. You thank your lucky stars for that bit of mercy.

The dispersion of the woodsprites snaps you out of your thoughts and gone with them is the gentle glow that acted as a torch for you to navigate through the uneven forest floor. You scramble around on the ground and stumble upon a piece of wood which you quickly turn into a makeshift torch by tying a ripped section of your tank top. The fire is easily lit, and you turn around to figure out the next course of action to be taken. With no navigation or communication to base, you can only hope to stay safe until daylight.

The chittering of unseen creatures makes the decision easy for you, holding the torch in one hand, you scamper towards a sturdy-looking tree. Scaling the tree comes surprisingly easy, the avatar body is much more muscular than you and you find yourself sitting on a higher branch in no time.

A movement on the ground alerts you to an unknown company, and you hurry to snuff out the fire lest you give yourself away. Blinking to adjust to the sudden darkness, golden eyes flit about the forest floor in search of answers. As if magic, the forest erupts in the majestic colours of blues, greens, and purples, the bioluminescence of the flora acting as natural lighting. A flash of shiny black brings the answer to your unspoken question quickly.

‘Viperwolves’, your mind supplies unhelpfully. A hyena/wolf-like carnivore, extremely adept at hunting prey in packs. You watch its head tilt as if listening to something, and before you know it, it disappears in a flash of black in the direction opposite to yours.

Letting out a breath, you collapse back onto the branch only to be poked in the back by something sharp. “Ow!”, hand on your back, you turn around to be met with an arrow pointing to your face.

Angry, golden eyes narrow at you before the strange Na’vi male barks something at you; you scooch back in fear and confusion only for your hand to meet with air. In a split second, your panicked eyes meet disbelieving ones before you're plunging towards the ground in what is sure to be a gruesome death.

The air is knocked out of you as you hit the floor with a thud. Groaning, you try to push yourself up but collapse again as your hands give out under the pain you feel. A grip lands on your arm, forcing you to your feet. Stumbling by the abruptness of the motion, you lift your head and meet the frowning face of the Na’vi male. His hair is shaved along the sides, almost like a mohawk but with braids. His jaw is set tight, brow furrowed as he glares at you.

“Pesu lu nga?!”, the Na’vi man snarls at you, his grip on your arm tightening.

“I don’t know what you’re saying. I- oe tsun't kame!”, you gasp out, pulling your arm back certainly isn’t the right move. Panic building, you rush to explain yourself. “I’ve lost my way. Th-there was a… a… Thanator, it chased my friend and me”, you pause to swallow, “We got split in the river. I just want to go back, please!”

The Na’vi glowers at you through your explanation, his eyes widening only when you reach the part about your encounter with the Thanator.

“You meet palulukan?”, he asks in English. You nod your confirmation; your eyes are blurry with unshed tears.

You watch as his eyes flit to somewhere above your head before with a yank, he pulls you with him.

“Sutx! sì lu fnu!”, he commands. Meekly you follow his order and stay quiet. It is only once you calm down, you realize that you’re surrounded by other Na’vi, both male and female. The Na’vi holding you captive leads you to a Direhorse; fishing what looks like a rope from a sack, he ties your hands together on one end while keeping the other end looped around his arm. He swiftly mounts the Direhorse, and with a violent yank, you stumble long behind him.

The rest of the party follow after you, whoops and cheers ringing out in the forest as you’re marched on feet to what you feel is a definite death sentence.

A sudden stop has you bumping into the back of the creature in front.

“Oìsss!”, an angry snarl rings out behind you moments before sharp pain shoots from the base of your head. “Ah!”, you whimper in pain as your braid is pulled with a sharp tug. You hear a hiss from the Mohawk Na’vi, as you so creatively named your captor, before the grip on your braid is loosened and the pain ebbs away into a dull throb.

You move to thank the Na’vi for helping but are stopped short as he takes out a bola, his eyes trained overhead. In a flash of blue, the bola goes flying and you see someone distinctly familiar drop down in front of you.

Jake jumps to his feet and is quick to pull out his knife. Gasping, you rush towards him but are pulled back by your bindings. The warriors following you are quick to surround Jake with their bows drawn, yowling at him. A second later, you see a Na’vi female jump down to stand in front of Jake.

“Mawey, Na'viya! Mawey!”, she speaks. The warrior pulling you dismounts from his steed and walks toward her. She turns around and you see them converse, though your broken Na’vi is hardly sufficient for you to understand everything, you get the gist of the conversation. You are to be led to the Tsahik, the spiritual leader of the People.

The warrior, Tsu’tey, turns toward you and that’s when you see Jake has finally taken notice of you.

“Y/N! You’re ok?”, the worry is clear in his voice as he rushes to you, his eyes flicking down to your tied up hands. You stay silent but nod your head, the relief you feel at seeing Jake is palpable. Soon after, Jake is tied up beside you, the same way you are.

“They’re taking us to their Hometree”, you whisper, “Are you hurt? You look dreadful”

“I’m fine”, motioning to the female with his head he continues, “She saved me.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re ok.”

Along the way, you and Jake fill each other on the happenings after you were dragged underwater. One thing is for sure, you were much lucky compared to him.

Much too soon you feel the party slow down from a trot to a walk. You are entering a massive tree, much bigger than any that you’ve seen in Pandora yet. Na’vi are standing on either side of the party, with a variety of expressions on their faces; curiosity, anger, fear, and rage. It is only when the female walks towards an ornately dressed much older-looking Na’vi male, clearly the Clan Leader, that your stomach erupts in butterflies, nervousness emanating in waves around you. Jake must feel your internal struggle because soon after you feel him pull you closer to himself as he subtly shifts to stand partially in front of you, his gaze hardened and trained on the approaching parties.

Chapter Translations:

Pesu lu nga- Who are you?

Oe tsun't kame- I can't understand

Palulukan- Thanator; dry mouth bringer of fear

Sutx! sì lu fnu!- Follow! And be quiet!

Oìsss- Watch it!

Mawey, Na'viya! Mawey- Calm, people! Calm

#avatar x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully #female reader #fem!reader #avatar!reader #human!reader #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully fanfic #avatar 2009 #avatar #avatar fanfiction #alternate universe #fated to meet you

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anatay004 · 2 years ago

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ᴊᴀᴄᴀᴇʀʏꜱ ᴠᴇʟᴀʀʏᴏɴ | ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ᴅɪᴇ (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ꜱɪx)

Summary: After a blissful night of peace, war eventually breaks through Dragonstone when the king dies and your marriage with Jacaerys is suddenly at risk. He will not let war come you.

(A/N): So, sadly, this is the last part of the Love Me Not series! But I’ll be posting a longer version on AO3 soon this week, however, the story will be in depth and with an OC.

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ

IT WAS THE sound of deafening screams that jolted you awake the next morning. Instinctively, you turned to your side and reached for Jacaerys, but his side of the bed was empty. You sucked in a breath, the breeze that ripped through the windows peppered goosebumps over your naked skin and you shivered at the cold.

Where was he?

Then you heard the screams again.

You climbed out of bed and changed at once.

You rushed through the corridors, heart hammering against your chest as your sister's screams strained your ears. You were disoriented, unaware of the trouble that was slithering within the walls of the castle as Rhaenyra began to birth her daughter.

"Sister," Rhaenyra hissed out when your frame stumbled into her line of vision. You swallowed the knot in your throat, the sight of her crimson nightgown and strangled moans made you falter in your spot. She was not ready to give birth. "Our father has passed."

Your head reeled.

Oh, you thought.

Somewhere in the haze, her screams broke into your reverie again. You blinked, but your muscles could not move, the news push forward an unmoored plague that pestered your reason. You were standing in the room, but the light of humanity dimmed in your irises and you were nothing more than a shadow as she screamed for the babe to come out – nothing more.

"My love," Jacaerys' voice made you flinch, but his touch comforted you almost immediately as he anchored his hands on your arms tenderly.

"The greens have repudiated the succession and claimed the iron throne." Rhaenyra continued, a cry of pain clogged in her throat.

Your skin pricked with goosebumps.

"Aegon has been crowned King."

Jacaerys' fingers tightened around your arms.

"What is it to be done about it?" Jacaerys spat, a heated tone wrapped around his words.

"Nothing yet!" Rhaenyra cried.

You exhaled sharply. "Fuck..."

"Where is Daemon?" Jacaerys demanded, his hands dropped to his sides, fisting in anger.

"I don't know," Rhaenyra answered. "Gone to madness, gone to plan his war."

Jacaerys clenched his jaw.

"Jace..." You began, but he dismissed you and made to leave the room at once to look for Daemon. You knew the war was coming, it lingered in your skin the moment he let go of you and you shivered at the sudden coldness.

Beside you, Lucerys searched for your hand.

"Jace," Rhaenyra berated, making your husband stop in his tracks momentarily. "Whatever claim remains to me, you are now its heir."

You swallowed hard.

You were to be queen soon.

"Naught it is to be done but by my command."

Jacaerys remained silent, a searing heat flashed across his eyes as he looked back at his mother – he was furious, you'd never seen him like this before. He eventually nodded and walked out of the room without bothering to look back.

Luke squeezed your hand in comfort before following his brother.

You followed his frame with sad eyes.

Your father was dead.

And so will many others soon.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You were there when Rhaenyra birthed a corpse.

And you were there when her daughter's body was wrapped in coarse and grainy bandages.

She had been born dead.

And now, you were standing amongst the crowd outside the castle, watching from afar the sullied funeral that deemed the crown cursed. Within a blink of an eye, everything fell into chaos, and, with your father's death, you feared the worse was yet to come.

So, you watched in silence.

Jacaerys was standing next to you, but his presence felt as if it was miles away from you. He wallowed in his thoughts and you didn't question it, not at first, it seemed rather reasonable given the tragic circumstances. So, you let him be and focused your attention on Joffrey instead. The child was perplexed, he hugged your legs in search of comfort and you raked a hand through his curls in affection.

"It's okay," You lowly whispered when the little boy looked up in search of your gaze. "Everything will be alright."

Jacaerys shifted a little beside you.

"I swear to ward the Queen," Erryk Cargill's voice strained your ears, he kneeled before Rhaenyra and offered her the King's crown. "With all my strength..."

You narrowed your eyes at the scene.

Your father's crown.

A pain retaliated in the pit of your stomach.

He was dead too.

"My Queen," Daemon kneeled, after placing the crown on Rhaenyra's head – Queen Rhaenyra. Everyone followed his actions soon after, kneeling before your sister in affirmation of their loyalty and support.

A tang of crimson settled down your throat.

You kneeled too.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"What is our standing?"

"We have thirty knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and three hundred men-at-arms."

After the funeral, the counsel room ensued with tension as everyone gathered to plan for war. You were standing beside Rhaenyra, listening to everyone's back-and-forth discussion with little interest on your part.

You wanted to get out.

Something about withholding the mourning of your father's death and the possible confrontation with your brothers made you sick. It marred your face with shadows, it was more than evident you weren't feeling well.

You sucked in a breath.

You wanted to wallow in your memories. You wanted to burrow in the recesses of your mind and trace back to when Viserys was your only home. You wanted to go back to when Aemond and Aegon pestered you day and night, to when they were your loyal company and you were theirs. You wanted to go back so bad.

But those days were gone.

"Your grace, a ship has been sighted offshore." Erryk Cargill announced, and you blinked in sudden realization – your brothers. "A lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon."

Idiots, you thought.

"Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies." Daemon commanded, and soon after, everyone began to make their way outside.

You were nervous.

So, you decided to wait for Jacaerys, falling back a few steps to allow everyone else to make their way through. You wanted his comfort and his words of consolation, but you were more than surprised when he didn't slow down his pace and, instead, walked past you awarely.

You faltered on your spot as he disappeared through the corridors.

He didn't even spare you a glance.

You clenched your jaw, trying to feign an unfazed look on your face as you made to walk out of the room. You cursed him silently, a few hours ago, he had made love to you and whispered dulcet words of affection in your ears, but – now, he was acting as if you were invisible.

You didn't walk to your room that afternoon. Instead, you made your way to the only person who could ever provide you with affection.

"You don't look well, auntie," Lucerys admitted when you knocked and walked into his room. You didn't answer for a moment, instead, you offered him a faint smile. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," You mumbled, but he didn't believe you. The uneasy expression on his face made it evident, but you tried to dismiss it. "It's been a tough time day, hasn't it?"

He looked down at his hands. "Rather stupid."

You tried to stifle a chuckle. "Stupid is an interesting choice of word."

Lucerys' lips itched. "That's how it feels."

You opened your mouth to answer, but his arms wrapped around your waist before you could. He pressed his head against your chest in affection, arms tight around your frame as if he was almost afraid of letting you go for a second.

You returned the hug.

"I'm scared," He admitted.

Your heart shattered.

"I'm scared too," You whispered, and placed a soft kiss on top of his head that made his grip tighten around you. You weren't sure how long it lasted, but the blissful moment made the raw wound inside your chest stop bleeding for a minute – it almost cured the malady.

For a second, you felt safe.

And he did too.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

You ended up sleeping in Lucerys room. In between whispers and hushes, he had told you about his worries and insecurities about disappointing everyone, including you.

"You could never disappoint me," You had assured him that night quietly, "Nothing in the world could ever make me love you less."

He squeezed your hand underneath the sheets.

When morning came, you climbed out of bed and made your way out in silence, tiptoeing around to avoid disturbing his sleep. After debating with yourself, you eventually made your way back to your chamber, but the room was empty as you expected. The sheets, however, were untidy and well slept in – that brought you a little comfort.

Jace had slept here.

Your handmaidens soon bathed and helped you change into a comfortable dress to attend breakfast alone. You walked around the corridors in silence, chewing the inside of your cheeks as you tried to comprehend everything that had tumbled down in a matter of hours, but it didn't take long for your husband to find you.

"Where the hell were you last night?" He hissed, hand suddenly latched onto your wrist.

You pulled your hand back. "Why do you care?"

He gave you a look. "You're my wife, have you forgotten that tiny detail?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Unbelievable."

How valiant of him to act clueless.

How fucking valiant of him to confront you.

You rolled your eyes at him and made to walk away, but he latched his hand onto your elbow and pulled you back effortlessly.

"Where were you?" He spat through his teeth. This time, there was a tick in his jaw and a familiar hint of anger glossed his eyes – he was jealous, but he didn't dare to blurt it out.

Your lips itched. "How bad does it concern you, my love?"

He exhaled sharply. "How bad do you fucking think? Must I repeat myself?"

You relished his sudden outburst, but the feeling soon quenched down when the memory of his indifference conquered your thoughts.

"What games are you playing?" You questioned, pulling back from his touch. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but you took a deliberate step closer despite his glare. "Do you think I'm some kind of whore you can fuck and ignore when you please?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"My father passed and you didn't even dare to look my way yesterday. Not once did you offer consolation, instead, you treated me as nothing more than a shadow behind your pace."

"Perhaps, not everything was about you? My mother lost her father too and she wasn't weeping in hopes for someone to offer a hug."

You faltered on your spot.

Oh.

You felt a wave of heat roll over your skin, but the searing anger made your lips tighten into a thin line – no answer. And he was adamant in his stance because he didn't relent despite the hurt expression on your face; not one bit.

"My prince, your mother requests your presence along with the princess's."

"We shall be there in a moment."

But you walked away before he could look at you.

"Love, wait – "

But you didn't stop.

His words touched your chest, something about them made your breath still inside your lungs and tears collect at the bottom of your eyelids. You brushed them away with the back of your hand roughly as you cursed his name.

Damn him and damn his fucking head.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"The narrow sea is ours," Lord Corlys finally announced, declaring an alliance with your sister in the counsel room. She was taken aback for a second before a small smile itched on her lips. "If we further deal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King's Landing..."

You were standing next to Lucerys, tracing arbitrary patterns over the wood map. You were quiet – too quiet, thinking about the cruel tragedies that bruised your heart. Your father was dead, your husband was being cruel and your sister was planning a war.

You chewed the inside of your cheek again.

You wanted to walk out, but the tough tension in the room rushed the air out of your lungs and tried to suffocate you and only you. You wanted no war and no part in rebellions and deaths, but even the fool of your heart knew neither was an option for someone like you.

So, you inhaled shakily.

From the corner of your eyes, you caught a small glance of Jacaerys – searching for you.

You looked down at your hands. After his words, you didn't want to interact with him.

"We should bear those messages." Jacaerys suddenly spoke, after your sister had requested to send ravens to Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm's End. "Dragons can fly faster than ravens and they are more convincing."

You looked at him then.

Your face was marred with utter shock, despite your current differences, you were not prepared to let him walk into an open field of danger and cruelty. Your eyebrows knitted together in evident disapproval, but he dismissed it.

"Send us."

Your breath stilled in your throat.

After a hesitant moment, Rhaenyra eventually answered, "Very well, then. Prince Jacaerys and my sister will fly North – "

" – Not my wife," Jace interjected. "She will not be placed in the middle of the battlefield."

You narrowed your eyes at him.

No, he will not do this to me, you thought.

"Princess (Y/N) rides the largest dragon on our side, if convincing is what we need, her dragon will certainly do plenty." Lord Corlys stated, his answer earned approving nods from the council, but Jacaerys was adamant.

"Perhaps, she can patrol Dragonstone along with Daemon, she has the biggest dragon on our side as you mentioned, it will be needed here if the greens dare to come again."

"I do not wish to stay in Dragonstone," You finally spoke, darting your husband a look before turning to face your sister. "I can travel North with Baelor and convince the Starks to honor the oath they once made to you. I've heard Lord Cregan Stark is closer to my age than most in this room, I can assure you I can do it."

Jacaerys rolled his eyes.

Rhaenyra pensively looked at you, but there was a hint of hesitation in her blue irises as Jacaerys looked back at her with utter challenge.

"She my wife, I have the final word."

"No, you do not – " You tried, but he interrupted with a tone of finality that made everyone quiet.

"I am your husband and future heir to the iron throne, you will do as I say. No Queen can dissipate that, not even my mother."

You were furious, words couldn't describe the ferocious anger that flitted across your face. You hated him at that moment, he belittled in front of the council – and for what? You wanted to yell and fight, but the words never ripped past your lips and, instead, you decided to finally walk out of the room.

And this time, he did follow.

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

"What is it that you want from me?" You eventually questioned, when he stepped inside your chamber and made to walk closer to you.

"I want to keep you safe! Is it so hard for you to comprehend?" He defended, narrowing his eyes as he examined your features carefully. You looked back at him with bitter anger, soft irises torched with copper and gold.

"Is that so?" You challenged. "Is that why you belittled me and deemed me nothing more than a wife in front of everyone in the counsel?"

He clenched his jaw. "I do not wish for you to accompany me to the North, I can not risk your life for an alliance that I am not certain of yet."

You scuffed. "Bullshit."

Jacaerys sighed, but his muscles slowly dropped at the sight of the tension in your shoulders. You waited for an answer, but he took a step closer instead. You held back your breath as he slide an arm behind your waist gently. "You're right, I shouldn't have said those things in front of the council. I became desperate and clung to the safest option that would keep you in Dragonstone without a challenge from anyone.

"But I do not wish to stay here."

"And I do not wish to put you in danger."

"Then we're both imbeciles." You whispered, dropping your gaze to his lips subconsciously. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head in evident stress before tracing soft patterns over your back.

"Perhaps," He admitted, tilting his head to the side before lowly adding, "The things I said about your father's death, it was all a lie, I stepped out of line and I apologize for it. I should've been there to offer comfort like the husband I am, but I was so fucking scared of losing everyone."

"Jace – " You began, but he shook his head and his fingers pulled your face towards him.

" – I can't lose you." He stated, words vehement and firm as they slipped out his lips. You swallowed hard, examining his features with careful eyes – he was being sincere.

You nibbled your bottom lip.

"Let me go North with you." You pleaded, and he shifted a little on his heels at your sudden words. "You speak of fear and regret as if they're foreign to me. Have you ever stopped to think about how your injuries or possible death could affect me? I would much rather die than watch you go."

I let go of my father once too, you thought, and hell eventually happened.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted.

"Please, Jace," You whispered, and his lips swiftly met yours at the exposed vulnerability that ripped through your facade. You kissed him back, allowing the pain that retaliated in the pit of your stomach to dissipate at once.

After a moment, he pulled away and leaned his forehead pensively against yours.

"Okay," He finally breathed out, "Let's go North."

#jacaerys x reader #fanfic #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #daemon targeryan #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #aegon x reader

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lizzie-is-here · 2 years ago

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christmas event!

character: bucky x fem!reader

summary: december 16 tends to bring memories for a certain ex-winter soldier

warnings: violence, anxiety attack, trauma, bucky being sad, murder

a/n: was this requested? no. is it on my prompt list? no. but i wrote it on the plane and am literally posting it during my layover so lmao hope y’all enjoy 🫶🫶🫶

Christmas is one of your favorite times of the year. Something about the lights, the snow, and the nostalgia has you setting up decorations right after Halloween.

All credit to him, Bucky tries his best when it comes to Christmas. It’s fun, but it tends to bring back memories of Rebecca and his mom, as well as constant reminders of just how much everything has changed.

But he loves you, so he loves Christmas.

The challenge comes in the week before. It's late in the evening when he turns on the TV. He’s bored, and just wants you home.

You’re running around shopping for ribbon, since you realized last-minute that the ribbon you already had didn’t match your wrapping paper. Bucky doesn’t really get why it matters. He wrapped Sam and Steve’s gifts in trash bags this year.

The TV isn’t offering up much. Endless Hallmark movies that neither of you like and holiday baking shows that you both promised to only watch together.

His eyes almost slip over it.

December 16: the Mysterious Deaths of Howard and Maria Stark

Bucky can’t swallow the lump in his throat. The world knows nothing about his involvement, of course, but that doesn’t make it easier.

The guilt had been eating at him before you came along. You showed him that he didn’t have to be guilty, that he could live and grow. He never even planned to ask you out. Falling in love with you just came along with your friendship.

He knows you would advise against watching the documentary. But you aren’t here. And a little bit of curiosity wouldn’t hurt.

That notion is cured the moment he clicks on the channel. It’s a barely-censored crime scene photo, that, though grainy, is clear enough to see the blood all over the inside of the car.

Two bodies are slumped in their seats.

He can feel Maria fighting against his old arm as he choked her. The way Howard’s nose collapsed in on itself with a single punch. The serum in the trunk, the motorcycle he used to ride away.

Every detail is as clear as day. Each one opens new questions. The ones that Bucky falls asleep in your arms to avoid. The ones he doesn’t even want to think about around you, lest they somehow taint you.

But you aren’t here.

So he spirals.

———————————————————————

“Bucky? I’m back,” you call. You have so many boxes in your arms that you don’t spot him on the couch enveloped in some show.

You frown as you set the boxes on the counter. “Baby?”

No response. Until you peer around the makeshift tower.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you chuckle. “What’re you-“

“No one knows how the Starks died. But many believe that the flimsy cover-up of a car accident is hiding a much more sinister truth. Ms. Stark’s autopsy showed signs of severe bruising around the neck, as well as asphyxiation and a struggle. Some even claim that the Winter Soldier-“

You turn the show off.

“James. Are you okay?” The use of his real name startles him a bit.

“Yeah, I was just…” Bucky can’t offer an explanation. He takes a shaky breath. “Just browsing.”

Offering a sad smile and a weak laugh, you sit next to him. “Browsing the true crime channel?”

He shrugs. His eyes are still on the screen, as if he can see the gorey imagery.

You don’t push further. Instead, you take his hand, lead him to the kitchen, and you start making dinner together.

Bucky really tries to put up good conversation. Your night shouldn’t be a downer just because he chose to watch that stupid show. Yet, he can’t manage more than a few sentences.

You gently set a hand on his arm to grab a plate from behind him, and it just reminds his of how Maria Stark clawed at his metal one so desperately in her last moments.

A motorcycle passes by outside and he can practically see the long ride back to the HYDRA base.

Eventually, he gives up and falls silent.

It’s only later that night, when you’re laying in bed, that he speaks again.

The two of you are intertwined. It’s like Bucky’s convinced that, if he lets you go, he’ll fall right back into that spiral.

It’s heartbreaking. The way he clings to you.

You’ll always want to offer support, but it hurts to see him so consumed by this.

What he says hurts even more.

“I don’t think I’m a good person,” he whispers into your shoulder. His thoughts are too scrambled to hear the way you sniffle.

You pause, gathering yourself before responding.

“Well, I’ve known a lot of bad people,” you begin. “And I’d like to think I know you pretty well. There’s not much crossover there.”

“If you weren’t a good person, if you were ‘bad’, you wouldn’t be worrying about it. Sure, this guilt shouldn’t be on you. You didn’t have control. But it proves my point.”

“You’re not a bad person, Jamie. I promise.”

He can’t express how much it means to him. He’s relieved and still drowning in worry all at once. There’s one more thing.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you exhale softly.

“Then we can be bad people together.”

You both fall asleep like that, entwined in every way. Hiding from the world in each others’ arms as endless flurries cover the streets of Brooklyn.

But not before you grab your phone, and send a quick text to a certain Captain that still feels like he owes the brunet for his new suit.

And in the morning, that documentary is nowhere to be found.

#marvel #marvel x reader #x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x reader angst #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #lizzie’s christmas event #event #requests open #request

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dcbicki · 1 year ago

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Hi!! I have a question about gifs. I’ve noticed some users (yourself included) have something on their gifs that I could only describe as sort of a net on top of their gifs. I noticed it, for example, on your Barbie/suicide squad parallels post. It almost seems like some sort of tool like noise where it helps to make a gif appear more hq. I’m wondering what that might be, or if I’m totally off base!

Hey! Unfortunately, I didn't save the PSD for that particular set - the closest one I still have was for this Sound of Music one, but the settings were fairly similar from what I remember.

There isn't really much to it, and the easiest way I can explain what the "net" is, is that it's basically the combo of your resize settings, sharpening/noise you've added to your gif, and finally your export settings. At least that's how it is for me - keeping in mind I usually try to work with the most HD cuts available so the quality is already there. Anything less than 1080p will always require more adjustment.

When figuring out your image size early on, ensure the resample size is set to Bicubic Sharper (reduction) as that'll give your gif a cleaner, more sharpened look to start with and it should make things easier moving forward.

Proceed to make your gif as usual.

I add Smart Filters last, and these gifs didn't require anything more than the simple Sharpen tool applied to the gif once the layer had been converted.

You can mess around with noise or blurring etc. if your gif doesn't quite look the way you want. Before sharpening, I sometimes use Stylize > Diffuse > Anisotropic > ~20% opacity (under blending options) to give the gif a softer look first and remove any graininess. It can look a little funky sometimes.

Lastly, when exporting your image, select Adaptive and Pattern as your save settings these can significantly change the final appearance of your gif - especially Pattern. The two in combination are what create the "net" and will retain the quality of your gif in export.

You should be all set with your quality-control "net"! 💜

#tutorial #ps tutorial #gif tutorial #mine*#gif making #I kinda suck at tutorials so let me know if this did/n't help anon and I can maybe offer some more suggestions if necessary :)

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yakuzabrainrotlive · 6 days ago

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VERY CLOSE TO THE END NOW. Am about to leave Onomichi for the last time when I keep playing, so next post will probably be me reaching the ending. I'm very scared.

I'm very glad we found Yuta alive and... physically well! I knew my bestie Lo wouldn't let me down and kill Yuta 💅🏻

I totally understand Yuta's logic here. But I do think there should have been an attempt to negotiate before taking such drastic actions. Then again, Yuta was probably still in shock about... everything that's happened and come to light in the last 24 hours, so I don't blame him at all for acting irrationally here.

I keep seeing Kiryu in all these Hirose family guys. I just really wanna know what Kiryu is thinking and feeling; he's had his own patterns of behavior and thoughts thrown right at himself this whole entire game. I can see Kiryu doing this exact same thing for his loved ones.

I was expecting like... a diary page or a grainy photorgaph something, so this SD card ot whatever kinda threw me off. I know we're in modern times, but it still caught me by surprise for some silly reason.

Also... RIP, KING. You were great 😔🙏🏻

One of the scarier bosses this far imo. It's always the ones with calm expressions and relaxed yet confident demeanors that make me feel intimidated. Especially if they're older.

......

Hmmmmmm.

...Nah.

Osaka Castle with the ninjas, traps and tigers still takes the cake for me when it comes the WTF factor. This one came VERY close, though.

Hehe, oopsies :3 Sowwy, we were just being a bit silly 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Nah but fr here, what. I'd recommend having a whole lot more security and a lot more guns here next time. I know it's Kiryu, but if a man in his late 40's to early 50's with a few helpers managed to get to the "most classified military secret in Japan", y'all have issues. This L is deserved.

YET ANOTHER PARALLEL TO KIRYU AND KAZAMA. Damn. They're really hammering it in. And the whole conversation of "is it alright for us not to hate him? is it okay if we cry about losing him?".. OUCH. What I wouldn't give to be inside Kiryu's head in these moments...

One of the coolest tattoos in the games this far. Might actually be my #2 fave, not sure. Definitely going in the TOP 5 list.

Props to Tsuneo for actually going for it. If I received this order, I'd be starting my new life under a fake name, across the atlantic, the very next day. No way I'd ever be caught even looking at Kiryu wrong in this universe.

Hm. What a weirdo. Thanks for the warning, I guess. And for not trying to kill Kiryu. You still suck, though. But I do wanna study you - very closely.

#yakuza thoughts #yakuza 6 spoilers #yakuza 6 #yakuza spoilers

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dearemma · 1 year ago

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hi! do you have any tips on sharpening? my photoshop cs5 is messing with my old settings a bit and i'm looking for new ways of sharpening so it looks clean, and i loved your last snw gifset! thank u! <3

oh, hi!! thank you <3

oh god, the terror of sharpening. i recently had to create new sharpen settings cause i've started to use 2160 rips for my snw gifsets and it took me a while to find something that didn't make their faces look way too smooth, or, worse, overly sharpen it!!

i'm not the best at explaining things, so i wanted to see if i could find the tutorial i used to build my sharpen settings but i can't! i did however find this one here from @completeresources which seems similar and very easy to follow! i like to both sharpen and add a bit of blur to my gifs so they look crisp without looking grainy.

there are my current settings:

i recommend choosing a scene that you've colored before and isn't too hard so you can play around. i made various versions of the same gif as i was trying to find what i needed.

to give you a feel of what this does, i thought i'd remake one of the gifs of my last gifset as i still had the screencap folders on my desktop!

i choose the uhura scene cause i thought it was the gif which looked best.

here is the gif without any sharpen, only my coloring:

now let's look at the final result, using the action i screenshotted above:

look how better it looks! see how her eyes look very clear, and so does her skin. compare her lips, her cheeks, the gleam of her eyeshadow! look at her eyelashes!!

sharpen makes a huge difference!

but, take a look at the original gif! it already looks kind of good. why? cause i'm using 2160 and that's a game changer! that is what truly makes my gifs look so clear, not any special talent or trick!

cause i'm insane i also have the 1080 version saved, so i thought i'd take a look at the difference.

i ended up using the same sharpen settings as the one i posted above (i have a different action for 1080 gifs, but the 2160 action honestly looked better this time).

1080 rip using the same sharpen settings as above:

it looks pretty! i would post this without any problem and cry about how happy i am with the result because i am proud of it! but go back and look at the 2160 sharpened version, look how clearer the pixels look!

so yeah!! this my sharpening process, hope this helped you somewhat, i know i'm not the best at explaining things, so if you have any questions, please feel free to yell at me in the dms!!

#livia answers

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unholyhelbig · 2 years ago

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Are you going to post the vampire fic here? PLS SAY YES

A/n: Oh dude, I've got you.

Summary: Bodies start popping up within the city drained of blood and torn at the throat. Detective Ava Silva and her new partner Beatrice Alexander are determined to crack the case before more victims are discovered. But when recent technological advancements threaten how things are done, Beatrice has to put more trust in her partner than ever before.

Trigger warning: This is quite possibly the darkest thing I've ever written. So please be cautious with this. There's a lot of gross imagery with the crime scenes.

[Also, I added a "The Nice Guys" reference in there, extra points if you can spot it.]

Masterlist | Read on Ao3 | Request Prompts

Read the First Chapter here

The Blood Ties that Bind | Chapter Two | Ava x Beatrice

It was a common misconception that Vampires could see better in the dark. Yes, Beatrice viewed the world without light through a gray haze that was often mimicked on a camcorder, but if one did not know the obstacles they would face in said, pitch area, then it was hardly effective. She was thankful for the pulsing red light of the exit sign.

Beatrice kept to the far side of the hallway where the span of the cameras didn’t reach. She’d feigned interest in the security system that Michael Salvius had installed a few weeks before. He regarded her icily, mumbling under his breath. He figured that she was mocking him, and she placed a soft hand on his shoulder.

She told Michael Salvius that his job was important. That without the Salvius security systems, they would be shit out of luck on most of their cases. The footage was always grainy, way too distorted by the city's rain to make anything out. But she sat on the edge of the desk and smiled at him while he installed the new tech.

It had disturbed her, to a degree, the way in which the world was changing. She remembers the distinct feeling of whiplash she got when she saw her first automobile. This surely won’t catch on, she naively thought. And for a time, it hadn’t. But soon they were rushing through the streets, not just for the rich, but for everyone.

Cameras, she figured, would be the exact same way as cars, as planes, and chewing gum. The world was prone to rushing around her and she wouldn’t notice one way or another until times like these when it hit her all at once. Allusivity was swiped away by bulky wires and hard drives.

She’d watched Michel out of curiosity, but was thankful now, that she had. It made getting into the lab in the basement of the precinct all the easier. Though, Beatrice wasn’t sure if the cameras could pick up her slinking form in the deep red light of the exit sign. She stopped directly across from the door to the lab and waited until the cherry-red color faded.

Then, she took a large step across the hall and broke the knob off the door entirely with one flick of the wrist. It was much like a bone, that way, a metal contraption that came apart so easily under her movements. Beatrice pushed her shoulder into the door and entered the darkness of the lab.

Death was a familiar scent to her. It wasn’t one that she used to describe herself or her kind. No, they were wrought with the earth tones of soil and leaden blood. The odor of decay on a normal, once-breathing, human body was different. It tickled the back of her throat with hints of vanilla and the acrid hum of formaldehyde.

The dead lined the wall of the morgue behind little metal doors like picture frames. Each was meticulously labeled with a sharpie. A series of numbers following the first three letters of a last name. Beatrice instinctively spotted PAL86 and kept her eyes on the darkness of the drawer.

Part of her believed that he would push it open, that his milky eyes would open the world and she would be the one that had to break it to him: Apologies for your death, you see, a girl that I promised to teach how to live is desperate to do so herself. Mistakes happen.

Richard “Barry” Palmer would not be rising from the dead. That wasn’t how things worked. But just like the advancement of automobiles and security systems, this too could change. Not tonight, though. Not while she strode past a large exam table and opened the cooling chamber for samples.

A bright white light nearly blinded her before she had the thought to place her finger over the sensor and plunge herself back into that granular darkness. Beatrice swore under her breath. Ava hadn’t been kidding, law enforcement was wising up. They saved everything. Small vials filled with hair samples, fingernail clippings, fibers from the carpet saturated in brown blood.

She didn’t have much time, if the flash of light from the cooler had triggered the patrol officer damned to the security room, then she was fucked. Good and fucked. There was no logical way for her to explain why she had not only ripped the doorknob from its place but why she had rummaged through the fridge like she was up for a midnight snack.

Beatrice spotted two tubes labeled with PAL86. She didn’t hesitate to slip them into the pocket of her peacoat. She closed the cooler, careful with the light this time, and turned on her heel to exit the lab. Again, she waited for the pulsing light of the exit sign at the end of the hallway before she hastily made it to the stairwell, breathing a cool sigh of relief.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. She got in and out quickly, quietly, like the shadow that she was derived from. She hadn’t risked her position as a lead detective. She’d simply looked out for her own. And was that so bad? Ava was sure to thank her later, if later ever came along.

“Detective Alexander?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Beatrice had made it to the second stairwell. She instinctively tightened her fingers around the cold vials in her pocket and turned to face the medical examiner whom she had met on a few occasions. Her hair was sleep-worn, and a single eyebrow was raised in a questioning glance. She wore her coat over a buttoned pajama top.

“Doctor Amunet” Beatrice gave an easy smile. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I assume for the same reason as you.”

“Oh?”

Yasmine Amunet’s gaze was mild, her eyes the color of cold bourbon. She rubbed the corner of one, taking the sleepy haze right with it. “Nothing worse than being woken up by a corpse call in the middle of the night. I just have to grab my supplies and I’ll be headed down to the wharf.”

“Of course,” Beatrice swallowed hard. She prayed absently that Yasmine wouldn’t flick on the lights and notice the busted knob on the door to her lab. That the bag she was often seen with was subsequently in the office instead. “Would you like to go together? Two birds. One stone. That sort of thing.”

This was a solid play. Yasmine’s eyes lit up and all her drowsiness left her, replaced with excitement instead. Detectives worked closely with their medical examiners, but this was a different level of familiarity, an olive branch that was not often extended.

“Yeah, yes! Are you kidding me, of course.” She rocked excitedly on the balls of her feet.

Beatrice chuckled, “Go on, then. Make it quick. I’ll meet you out front.”

Yasmine schooled her expression but let a smile slip through just before she pivoted and rushed down the staircase to the basement. Beatrice could hear her shoes against the linoleum, fast and careless. One did not readily look for signs of distress when they were hurried. She counted on this as she took the side door out of the precinct and into the cold rain.

A shiver rushed down her spine. She lingered on the side of the building, taking both vials that were meticulously labeled PAL86 and dropping them into the rushing, mucky water that led to the storm drain. Beatrice took the toe of her boot and pressed down until she heard the glass shatter.

She watched as the shards were washed away into the storm drain with the rest of the runoff.

Any traces of lingering sleep dissipated from Detective Ava Silva’s mind as she pulled the Buick close enough to the weathered boardwalk for the wood to splinter. Rain slammed against the windshield, distorting the yellowed streetlamps, and the flashing squad cars. The wind had picked up and whipped viciously against Ava’s side as she slammed the car door.

There was no crowd this time. Bodies were pulled from the canal often and methodically. People who were down on their luck with the metal tip of a needle shoved into the nearest, unmarred vein. Women that stood on street corners while law enforcement looked the other way- because everyone needed to make a living somehow. Everyone needed to survive.

Ava was annoyed, at first. She had been in the kind of deep sleep that weighed heavy on your mind. Why pull her from bed for a body that would never be claimed? Though her grip relaxed on the steering wheel on the way here, and her shoulders slumped in defeat. A body is not simply a body. A life is not simply a life.

Guilt wracked her for being miffed in the first place. This was her job, after all, sleep be damned. She can sleep when her tank ran out of gas. She swallowed a stabilizing breath in the large drops of rain. The sea air was salty and clung to her skin like a film.

Detective Silva stepped over the slumping police tape, raged from the elements. By the time she got there, two police cars flanked the docks and a third, deep plum Ford Pinto was parked meticulously next to them. Ava recognized Detective Alexander’s flashy government-issued car. Okay- maybe Ava didn’t know if it was government issued, but no one could afford an 86’ model on a detective’s salary.

Her stomach churned when she crossed the threshold onto the rotted deck. She wasn’t a big fan of water, never had been. The hollow sound of her footfalls nearly made her want to turn back. Leave the corpse to Beatrice, seeing as she had gotten the jump on the case, to begin with.

There was already a sheet over the body. It reflected what little of the moon shown through the clouds each time they shifted. The rain had evened out, but the wind stayed strong. Beatrice had her jaw clenched; her hands shoved into the pockets of her coat. Yasmine held an umbrella over them both. She looked worse for wear, as green as Ava felt.

“Detective Silva,” Beatrice turned up the corner of her lip in a small smile. A white flag that bled red. “Nice of you to join us.”

She ignored the comment. “Why call us out here for a canal corpse?”

The thought rushed past her lips and exhibited in the mist of her breath, breaking the cold. She hadn’t meant to phrase it like that, really. Not with the uniforms glancing warily over their shoulders at the statement.

“That came out wrong. I mean, it’s not something you usually do.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but this… Detective Alexander was already at the station and decided to let me tag along. Good thing she did, your body is a Hispanic female in her early twenties.” She used the base of her hand to wipe away a drop of frigid rain that had dripped from the edge of the umbrella. “The neck is ripped into. Carotid artery shredded like an expired credit card.”

“Geez. Unidentified?”

Beatrice frowned “Actually, no, the victim is a model by the name of Sabrina Patrick, I’m guaranteeing that you’ve seen her on the side of busses, billboards, and storefronts. You name it. She’s recently branched out into acting; I believe she had a bit part in ‘Fright Night’.”

“No shit! I’ve seen that one!” Ava smacked Beatrice’s arm excitedly and lowered her voice, wiggling her fingers wickedly “Welcome to Fright night… for real.”

Yasmine pinched the bridge of her nose with an exasperated sigh that painted the sky. Beatrice let out a groan and stared at the silver interworking of the umbrella. Ava wasn’t a huge fan of vampires herself, but she did enjoy the campy feel of the movie, and the lead actress wasn’t entirely an eyesore.

Ava schooled her face into professionalism. She felt foolish for asking this question, but it slipped up anyway. “She have her blood?”

“Detective Silva, enough with the movie references,” Beatrice warned.

“Actually, no,” Yasmine said. “Not all of it.”

The last address listed on Sabrina Patrick’s driver's license led Detective Alexander and Detective Silva to a small duplex on a rougher end of town. Much too rough for a successful model, and upcoming actress. Beatrice thought this as she wrapped her hands around the chain link fence that surrounded the property.

It looked untouched, abandoned for the most part. The grass hadn’t been cut in at least a month. It had died and turned a rotten, mushy gray with the oversaturation of the rain. One pane of the large bay window had been shattered and patched up with silver duct tape and a black trash bag that flopped in the wind.

The red words BEWARE OF DOG curled in around itself. Ava reached over the fence and unlatched it before pushing the gate in. An ungodly screech of forgotten hinges made Beatrice’s jaw ache. There was a pit in the center of her stomach that continued to grow, reaching its cold edges out to her ribs, and to her slow-beating heart. Something was not right here.

Her fingers numbly reached for her sidearm, the fabric of her coat scratchy against dry skin. Ava spared her a glance. She was wielding a flashlight, though, Beatrice was sure that she wished she had something more as if she didn’t trust Beatrice to aim and fire her weapon if need be.

Beatrice recalls the first time she fired a gun, her brother's LeMat pistol. It was weighed and inscribed with his initials. Their father had gifted it to him the Christmas before the Civil War began. He taught her how to manage the kickback, and how to hit old cans of food, rusted and empty. Then small animals, squirrels and rabbits were utilized for their pelts.

She could handle the Government regulation gun in her hand now. Beatrice was a quick shot, she bet quicker than Ava. However, neither of them spoke as they tested the strength of the porch. Ava used two knuckles to bang on the chipped door.

“CPD, please come to the door,” She said, commanding.

A shiver worked its way up Beatrice’s spine at the deepness of Ava’s voice, the steadiness in which she delivered her command. They listened for movement inside. Ava couldn’t hear anything, and Beatrice could make out the dull drip of a leak in the kitchen, but not the dull, bugs-buzz of electric, or breathing, or even a rapid heartbeat.

“We’re not going to ask again. Open up!” There was a beat of five more seconds before Ava straightened her posture. “Well. No one’s home.”

“You’re sure?”

Detective Silva removed her jacket. Her arms flexed under the dull morning light. The clouds gave everything a mucky green color that shaded her features. In this light, the daring tightness behind Ava’s eyes, there was a bit of attractiveness. Ava could be quite charming when she wasn’t being a stubborn asshole.

However, those thoughts went right out the window when Ava wrapped her hand in the jacket and used it to shatter out the other half of the window. She took the taped trash bag with it, careful for the remaining shards of glass as she reached around and unclicked the lock.

“Ava, there are protocols!”

She shrugged and shook out her jacket before draping it over the termite-ridden railing at the front of the porch. Ava had a Cheshire grin that dared Beatrice to test her, even with her fingers near the trigger of the gun. “Probable cause.”

Ava opened the door and the stench that instantly hit them made Beatrice swallow back a gag. Detective Silva groaned. It was putrid, a mix of urine and rotting food that made the uneasiness of Beatrice’s stomach deepen.

Newspapers saturated with water and mold were stacked to the ceiling in a long, dark hallway. Insects scattered as new light made its way into the house, the flashlight sweeping over a staircase. There was a living area to the left, and a dining room to the right. All stacked high with newspapers, old DVDs, bottles that contained sticky forgotten soda, and take-out containers that squirmed with maggots.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Ava retched.

“Don’t take the lord's name in vain.” Beatrice’s eyes were watering. Everything was so defined and she couldn’t take a deep breath if she tried. Her lungs contracted.

“I did not take the lord's name in vain.” Ava used one arm to cover her nose, tentatively taking a step through the threshold “I found it very useful, actually. Are you coming?”

She kept her firearm lowered to her side, though the home exhibited all the signs of being long abandoned, Beatrice felt the same cloying anxiety she got every single time she entered a new residence. Her partner couldn’t exactly invite her in. The rules were finicky, but one stayed consistent: She could not enter without being invited in by the owner.

Subsequently, if there was no owner, she could step through the doorway. She held her breath for more than one reason, but took one foot and exhaled when she heard the rubber sole of her shoe crunch against the broken glass from the window.

Ava shook her head when Beatrice lifted her chin to the living area. They had to follow a strict pathway. There was a clear direction carved out amongst the garbage, the old National Geographic magazines, and the dirt-caked clothing. She was too humble to open her mouth and protest. Beatrice was not prepared to dry heave.

The steps to the second level were sturdy and Beatrice stuck close to the small circle of light that Ava provided. They made it to the top of the steps before Ava turned, the blinding light flashing across Beatrice’s stare before moving back to the floor.

“We should call for backup,” Beatrice mumbled, watching as a cockroach skittered over her shoe. “This place needs to be searched and condemned.”

However, Ava wasn’t listening to her. Instead, she was frowning. Beatrice reared back as the beam of light crossed her gaze three more times, Ava staring at her with an intensity that Beatrice had to blink away, along with the silver flashes of the light. She reached out and grabbed Ava’s wrist gently.

“What are you doing?”

“Your eyes are weird.”

“Yes, most likely due to the asbestos in here,” Beatrice growled, redirecting the light with the soft push of Ava’s hand. “Now, can we please finish the sweep and get out of here?”

Ava seemed to let it go. They pulled apart from one another and made the careful journey that the pathway allowed. Beatrice tried not to think about what crunched under her feet. They made it to the bedroom at the end of the hall: something that Beatrice assumed was a bedroom.

She was still blinking blotches of red and blue from her vision, But when it did focus, she located the four-post bed. It floated in a sea of debris. She got a sudden whiff of congealed blood, deteriorated flesh.

The brittle corpse of an older man, or at least what Beatrice made out to be one. It was hard, under the squirming mass of insects that had made a home between his ribs, and hollowed-out cheeks. Flies flanked the windows, daylight flitting through their wings. The buzzing was deafening.

This time, Ava did vomit, bile, and coffee joining the other masses on the floor. When she keeled over, her flashlight hit something that caught Beatrice’s attention. She placed a comforting hand on the small of Ava’s back but worked the flashlight from her hand at the same time.

Drywall had begun to crumble from the far wall, exposing brick, and wood, the innards of the house. Flies circled a painted symbol on the wall, once a vibrant red color. It had faded into the deep brown that only blood could afford.

“What the fuck is that?” Ava asked. She spits the acrid taste from her mouth. “Seriously, that’s… God, I’m going to be sick.”

Beatrice’s mouth was dry. A cross, a very specific cross, had been etched onto the wall. Arrows tipped every end, and large, stretching lines belted them. She’d seen it before, she’d had it carved into her shoulder blade with the chemical quickness that even she couldn’t heal from.

Detective Alexander fought the urge to stick the gun to her temple, and Detective Silva heaved the other half of her breakfast.

Three showers later and Beatrice could still clock the odor of decay on her skin. It was masked by vanilla, the slightest bit of detergent, and sweat. But it was there, lurking under the surface. She didn’t bother drying her hair. Instead, she padded into the living area and curled up on one end of the sofa. The rain had begun to fall again, barely noticeable.

She loved the view of the city slightly more, knowing that it wasn’t choked with flies swarming in a colony. In all her years, all the death, all the torture, all the pain, she had never seen deterioration such as that.

Many of her kind lost the ability to feel. It came with the territory. Day in and day out, the world would spin on its axis and empathy would escape the soul in small, barely noticeable breaths, until there was nothing left at all.

Beatrice was convinced that Lilith was getting there, and with nothing to be done about stopping it, she watched. Her roommate was absent, and she was grateful for the fact. What’s another corpse? This was not simply a corpse; this was a message. If not to her, then to the city. Then to those who did not know of the dangers that lurked just below the surface.

Eighty-four-year-old Tom Thornton had rented out his spare room to up-and-coming actress Sabrina Patrick seven months ago. She went missing after filming Fright Night over the summer. Within that time, the home had become a nest, of sorts. She had no idea how many were living there, for how long.

Tom Thornton was most likely killed within hours of Sabrina, left to fester. Beatrice curled deeper into herself, ran her fingers over the seam of her sweatpants, and clenched her eyes shut. She could move, leave the city, leave Detective Silva in the wreckage. But then again, she found the girl endearing and she was never much of a runner.

“Bea?”

Beatrice must have drifted into something of a fitful dissociation. The silvery scent of blood made her mouth water, her jaw ache as her canines threatened to slip into her mouth. Camila was sitting on the coffee table, a steaming mug in her hands.

“You should eat something.”

It was a peace offering, Beatrice guessed. She took the mug gratefully, not realizing how hungry she was until that subtle burn in the back of her throat ignited into full flame. She took a sip, warmed in the microwave like popcorn.

Camila had guilt written all over her face. Beatrice had taught the girl, away from most civilization, how to function as a member of the undead. They’d curbed the initial, dominating feeling of want that crossed over to the other side, the sensitivity to the sun. How to take what you needed without taking too much.

She’d given the same instruction to Lilith, who had taken to it naturally. But Camila was different. It wasn’t about survival for her, it was about empathy, about doing things right and there was nothing right about what they’d become.

“I wanted to apologize.” She started after Beatrice had slowly gulped down half of the mug. “For the banker, I mean. I’ve risked our existence here, and so soon after we’ve settled. I understand if you want me to go.”

Beatrice placed a steadying hand on the girl’s knee “Camila, I could never ask such a thing. Besides, it’s been taken care of. You must be more vigilant, though. You know I’ve never restricted how you feed, when you feed.”

“I know,” She whispered, using the edge of her hand to wipe away an escaped tear. “I know, and I am grateful. I was… chased away, I couldn’t finish what I started.”

Beatrice straightened, putting both feet on the floor. The tears were flowing freely from Camila’s red-rimmed eyes now. She had clasped her hands between her knees nervously.

“Chased?”

“Yeah. Yes. By a group of vampires. There were five or six of them… no, definitely five. I guess they smelled the blood. Too many for me to fight off, and I didn’t want to initiate something like that. I didn’t know we traveled in that big of groups.”

“We don’t.”

Beatrice had reluctantly turned Lilith herself and had done the same for Camila. It wasn’t unheard of for sires to stick with their makers, but five? She couldn’t create that many in an immortal lifetime if she tried. It was draining, nearly unfathomable.

Though, she knew someone who had dreams of grandeur such as those.

She swallowed down the rest of the liquid in the cup, used her thumb to wipe the blotch of color from the corner of her lip. There were others in the city, she knew, others that had slain methodically.

Beatrice clenched her eyes shut and draped her head over the back of the couch. Despite the fear, the symbol painted on the wall, and a city sure to be overrun with sired vampires, she could only think one thing: She should rent Fright Night from Blockbuster.

#Ava silva #Sister Beatrice #Sister Lilith #michael salvius #yasmine amunet #Warrior nun #Warrior nun fanfiction #Avatrice #Avatrice fanfiction #Vampire Beatrice #Vampire au #Detective au

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utterlyhooked · 2 years ago

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can you stop reposting gifs without credit please

Hey Nonnie, which one? Please point it out!

ETA: Barking up the wrong tree here Nonnie!

I received this today and was contemplating of whether to answer it or not. I thought, feck it, why not?!

I have been making GIF's and learning as I go along and I am still such a beginner but I was really proud of my latest post of LBFAD. I think it's my best yet (of those that I posted). The quality is still sub par compared to the ones made by GIF making gods here in tumblr but I was really happy with them especially because I am not techy.

here they are (my lastest 2 tumblr GIF posts) in one of my folders. For example, the one enclosed in red, the file size was too large so I had to lower the resolution so I could lower the file size hence there are 2 there. ETA: On my Despairing GIF post, for the subtitle/dialogue, I used DidactGothic font with font size 15, in white with no borders, and 100% opacity!

I removed the file names here because quite frankly, it's none of your business!

I tagged them as #cdramaedit, I thought that was enough. I was going to put #myedit but I thought it was hubris to put one on mine since the quality is not the greatest but I will now!... when I remember! I also wanted to put my mark on them but I did not like the fonts available so I didn't, but I will now!... when I remember!

Here's one example that I made today from LLTG, this is one of the favourite GIF's that I made. There's my mark on it now just so you know that I made it! MINE!

It is a series of 4 that I made back in late August - very early September. I have only used 2 of them in my posts. I use these as basis depending on what I need and edit - crop, add text, sharpen, adjust hues, brightness, contrast, saturation, etc... I have 46 GIF's in my LLTG Gif folder alone!

ETA: I was really happy with making GIF's and I can see my progress from really crappy gifs to the latest ones which I am very happy with. I have been teaching myself, exploring, and learning more, at my leisure, and enjoyed the journey so far. It's very relaxing. But now, I'm annoyed!

Since joining tumblr, I started making GIF's. I started with GIPHY and quite frankly they were crap! It was grainy, low resolution, but I still made them and posted some of them. The ones shown below are all made by me. I even attempted to put my mark on some of them. My GIF's might be crap, but they are my GIF's!

Afterwards I started using Kapwing which made my GIF’s slightly better but they changed their format (whatever you call it, I don't know!) so I looked for other ones. I started using another app especially in trimming videos (it doesn't compromise the resolution!) so I can make GIF's from them. I also found a better video downloader app which made a big difference for me. Another thing is that I found a new to me app that makes better GIF's in comparison to what I was using before.

Honestly, the one that I can think of is a post I made of The Untamed back in the last days of December 2021. Although, it's a GIF from tumblr showing who the original poster is and when it is clicked on, it opens a link to the original post. It also notifies the original poster. Is this what you are talking about? or are you talking about the cartoon reaction GIF's like Ursula from little mermaid?

Some part of my brain is saying that I should probably take this as a compliment, my latest GIF's are probably good enough to be compared to the great GIFs here in Tumblr. Maybe.

#anonymous ask #I'm getting a fucking headache because I want to finish this before getting dinner!#I'm hungry!#myedit #Barking up the wrong tree!#LBFAD #Love Between Fairy and Devil #LLTG #Love Like The Galaxy

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fahrni · 1 year ago

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Saturday Morning Coffee

Good morning from Charlottesville, Virginia! ☕️

What would we start off with this morning? The weather? Our power grid in the Charlottesville area? How about some links to articles I’ve collected through the week? Yes, let’s do that.

Ollie Williams • cabinradio.ca

A mercy flight taking Yellowknife hospital patients to safety was cancelled on Thursday, leaving nurses unsure how they’ll safely leave in the face of an oncoming wildfire.

Poor Canada. It’s been on fire for so, so, long. The human toll is so immense. 😔

Good thing Climate Change isn’t real. 🤬

Evan Selleck • AppleInsider

Apple TV+ has revealed the first details of “Monarch: Legacy of Monsters,” a forthcoming 10-part series starring Kurt Russell, and coming as part of Legendary Entertainment’s Monsterverse.

I’m down for this series! I love me some Kurt Russell! 🦖

David Ljunggren • Reuters

OTTAWA, Aug 18 (Reuters) - The Canadian government on Friday demanded that Meta (META.O) lift a “reckless” ban on domestic news from its platforms to allow people to share information about wildfires in the west of the country.

I’m not a fan of Facebook but I do understand why Facebook chose to disallow links to news in Canada. It was a business decision for them based on new Canadian law.

Hopefully they’ll turn linking back on so folks can communicate about these devastating fires. ❤️

Grace Ebert • thisiscolossal.com

Artist Duke Riley is attuned to this history and its modern-day implications. He gathers laundry detergent jugs, flip-flops, and bottles that once held household products once they wash up near beaches and carves incisive allegories and ornamentation into their surfaces. Painted in a warm, grainy beige, the scavenged waste mimics the whale bones traditional to scrimshaw while the artist’s signature wit emerges through the contemporary narratives of oil barons or marine creatures carrying human trash.

It’s amazing what this man can do with trash.

The Globe and Mail

Foreign Affairs Minister Mélanie Joly says Canada has been considering a “game plan” for how it would respond if the United States takes a far-right, authoritarian shift after next year’s presidential elections.

This is really sad when your neighbor and ally feel the need to prepare for the possibility the United States of America could become and totalitarian nation.

All I keep thinking of is Gilead from The Handmaid’s Tale.

Who knows, if the US goes full authoritarian/totalitarian Canada may become a refuge for Americans, just like it is in The Handmaid’s Tale.

Kevin Chisholm • Flutter Engineering Blog

Welcome back to our quarterly Flutter stable release, this time for Flutter 3.13! In just the three months since our last release, we have had 724 pull requests merged and 55 community members authoring their first commit to Flutter!

I’ve tossed around the idea of rewriting RxCalc in Flutter so I keep an eye on it. I find it interesting and I feel like it’s a better choice than React Native, but that’s just a feeling because I haven’t written code in either.

One thing I definitely dislike about it, they paint the UI themselves. They’re not using native controls. I understand the choice, but I don’t like it. I don’t think that would keep me from using it for an app like RxCalc since its UI is extremely simple and I’d most likely use its C++ Pharmacokinetics library.

Nick Gernert • WordPress VIP

Vox Media wanted its creative and development teams to focus on experiences instead of platforms, continuing to create industry-leading content for their audiences.

Big moves like this are always very interesting to me. Vox must need the best writing tools the industry can offer to put together stories and I wonder how they’re going to feel about the writing tools in WordPress. I’m personally not a fan of Gutenberg and wonder if writers will work in that editor or use something else for the writing part and someone else does the post? I’d love to know their workflow.

A little inside baseball. I handle putting together posts for the WillowTree Engineering Blog but the authors use Google Docs to write them.

Debopriyaa Dutta • /Film

In her Telegraph interview, Chalotra explained that she was not too well-versed with the source material (at least to the point that her co-star Henry Cavill was, who’s an ardent fan of the franchise) and the stress of showing up to such a big-budget production was stress-inducing for her. Chaltora talked about how she believed she “didn’t think [she] was going to get through the first day of filming

I love The Witcher and Chaltora’s Yennefer is one of the reasons why. Henry Cavill’s Geralt is also fantastic but the ongoing tension between the two adds another great element to the show.

Ash Furrow

I’m narrowing in on a few possibilities, and one of them will soon become my destination. This space is uncomfortable and I feel an urge to escape it. An urge to collapse the wave function of possible career moves into a definite next job. Any job. After a disquieting summer, I feel myself grasping for certainty.

I’ve watched on Mastodon as amazing developer after developer lose their jobs or are having a very difficult time finding one.

This scare me to death. I’m aging, tired, and my brain definitely doesn’t work as well as it once did — it’s not as fast as before. Sure, I can do the work, but could I get past an interview? That’s the biggest fear.

Starbucks Stories & News

He shares the story of Starbucks® Pumpkin Spice Latte – which has become the company’s most popular seasonal beverage of all time – was created 11 years ago.

This is an article I stumbled on from 2014. I thought I’d share it since Starbucks is about to unleash Pumpkin Spick Latte season on us. It’s not a goto drink for me but I’ve had a few. My wife and daughters love them. Heck, they love all things pumpkin spice. Me? I’m just into good pumpkin pie. 🥧

Grace Kay • Business Insider

During an earnings call on Tuesday, UPS CEO Carol Tomé said that by the end of its five-year contract with the Teamsters union, the average full-time UPS driver would make about $170,000 in annual pay and benefits, such as healthcare and pension benefits.

This article is about how tech workers don’t like the thought of UPS drivers making more than them. I say more power to ‘em!

I’ve often thought it would be amazing to work in a coffee shop. Of course I’d never expect to make that kind of money but I have a feeling I’d enjoy the change. At least for a little while. 😃

Scarheel • Atlas Obscura

From 1810 to 1823, Jean Lafitte and his brother Pierre were among the most notorious and successful privateers in the Americas. Like many great pirates, Jean Lafitte’s exact origins are shrouded in mystery, but he is believed to be born either in France or one of its Caribbean colony Saint-Domingue (now called Haiti) and he had a spectacular reputation for drinking, womanizing, and debauchery.

Who doesn’t like a little pirate lore? I know in real life these folks were scoundrels but we’ve romanticized them and there’s something about that skull and cross bones I like.

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