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dudeandduchess · 4 years ago

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Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, NSFW Series) [Chapter 1]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married. To make matters even more difficult for them, they were from two different walks of life, with (Y/n) being the Prime Minister’s daughter, and Kyōjurō being the heir to his clan’s Yakuza group.

Warnings: Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Teasing, Dirty Talking

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

***

Hot and heavy breaths meshed together in hefty puffs, as needy hands traced every contour of (Y/n)’s body beneath her dress. She felt fingers digging into her left thigh, and a few others pushing her panties aside— just so they could trace up her wet slit, before toying with her sensitive clit.

A gasp of pleasure escaped her mouth then, which was soon followed by another needy kiss from her partner— a cute blond that had been eyeing her from across the party that they had been at. He was so smooth with his words, and that laugh of his felt like it had melted her panties right off earlier— so it didn’t take long for her to give in and follow him up to an empty room on the second floor of the mansion.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me, baby,” The man rasped against her mouth, before nipping at her bottom lip and tugging on it lightly; which caused a tingle to shoot up her spine. “You better remember my name, baby, since it’s the one that you’ll be screaming until morning.”

That had (Y/n) opening her eyes a little, feeling her snarky attitude come to her with some clarity, since she didn’t even have a clue as to what his name was.

However, she was beaten to the punch when the blond pressed a light kiss to the corner of her lips, before trailing kisses down her jaw— eventually biting down on her neck, which had her moaning. Especially since he had partnered that bite with his fingers pinching her clit.

“Kyōjurō. Rengoku Kyōjurō. Say it for me, baby.”

“Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) gasped out, inadvertently arching her chest up into him when he began tugging on her clit. And, as if that wasn’t already overwhelming enough, he slid his fingers down to her entrance and began to push a finger inside her— groaning at how tight and wet she was because of him; for him.

She was so blissed out by his actions that it hadn’t sunk in that she was laying in bed with the next heir of the Rengoku Group— the biggest Yakuza clan in the Kanto region. And, little did she know, that her negligence was going to come back to bite her in the ass sooner rather than later.

The blond then curled his finger up against her g-spot, watching (Y/n)’s face as it twisted up in pleasure— as one of her hands reached down to grab hold of his wrist.

Instead of getting offended, a smirk crawled up onto his lips as he pulled his finger back from inside her; all so he could add in another digit. That motion had her moaning aloud, with her hips bucking up into his hand; which more than stroked his ego, and made his cock throb even harder in his pants.

“You like my fingers inside you, baby?” Kyōjurō cooed, smirking all the while, as he kept on with thrusting his digits up against her g-spot. “Just wait until it’s my cock fucking that cute little pussy of yours.”

However, before Kyōjurō could even take his free hand and unzip his pants, his phone began vibrating in his back pocket— making him click his tongue in irritation, as he regretfully looked down at his flushed bed partner.

He knew full well who she was, which had surprised him when she had accepted his less than subtle advances throughout the night. He had always thought that she was a goody two shoes, what with her steering clear of any unsavory headlines— since her father was the current Prime Minister of the country; but it appeared that he shouldn’t have judged her so quickly.

Regretfully, he sat back up on his haunches, gently taking his fingers out of her cunt and bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean— which had (Y/n)’s eyes widening in surprise and arousal at the sight.

In turn, he gave her a big grin, as well as a cheeky wink, before fishing his phone from his back pocket. “This better be important.”

The young woman took that phone call as a sign that their little rendezvous was coming to a close, albeit with neither of them being remotely close to orgasming. It was frustrating as hell, but it couldn’t be helped— since she also knew what it was like to have priorities other than your own pleasures.

So, gingerly, she sat up on the bed and swung her legs off the side of it— making sure to avoid hitting the man that had been pleasuring her a mere few seconds before. But, before she could get up and dismiss herself, she felt his hand on her thigh— as he leaned in to brush a kiss against her lips; one that began as a soft and light one, that gradually delved into something deeper; his tongue snaking into her mouth and coaxing hers out to play.

That was, until she overheard the words “boss” and “group” coming from the phone that was still pressed to his ear.

And it was only then that it came crashing down on her: her bed partner wasn’t just any normal, handsome man. He was far more dangerous than that, and she wanted to kick herself for not realizing it any sooner.

Because if she got caught with him, it would spell such a huge scandal for her father. He could potentially lose his job, all because she had been too neglectful.

Cold fear washed over her then, and she immediately jerked herself away from him— even slapping his hand off of her thigh— which obviously irked Kyōjurō; judging by the way that his eyebrows furrowed together, as he pinned her beneath his fiery gaze.

(Y/n) wasted no time then, not even giving him another glance as she got up off the bed and quickly slipped her shoes on; chalking the night up as some fever dream that she never wanted to revisit again.

As much as she hated judging others right off the bat, the Rengoku Group’s reputation was notorious enough to land her on the front page of a tabloid— or worse, a gossip rag. And that was the last thing that she wanted to happen, as she had worked so hard to keep her image so squeaky clean that she appeared so boring to the media.

It was the consequence of having a father who ran an entire country, after all.

The moment the door closed, however, Kyōjurō felt irritation bubbling up within him; something predatory in him being stirred up— especially at the memory of her slapping his hand away.

Still, he kept on listening to his father’s secretary— whom had kept on prattling about useless things, which shortened his fuse even more.

Normally, he would have been very indulgent, but being shut down the way he had been was making him feel less than lenient. “Can you get to the point, Matsutaka?”

“I- yes, sir!” The other man all but squeaked at Kyōjurō’s curt tone, before continuing, “The boss is summoning you tomorrow at seven in the morning; so you can meet your omiai partner.”

The blond couldn’t help but feel fed up at the news, even though his father had kept on reminding him that he was trying to work out a suitable marriage arrangement for him. He couldn’t care less about that before, since his heart hadn’t been set on marriage yet; and even more now that his attention was piqued by the woman whom he had beneath him minutes ago.

***

Not wanting to stay there for longer than necessary, (Y/n) made her way back down the stairs— after ducking into one of the bathrooms on the second floor, and straightening herself out as much as possible— and melted back in with the crowd; faking smiles, and taking a glass of champagne from one of the passing waiters.

She knew that she just had to fake feeling faint with her earlier group of acquaintances, and she could go home without being it construed as rude.

So, she made her way back towards the same old ladies— hearing them still gossiping about some other unfortunate woman— and deciding to just hold her comments by taking idle sips of her champagne.

“You’re back already, (L/n)-sama!” One of the women exclaimed with a smile, eliciting a polite smile from (Y/n) in return.

“Oh yes, I was feeling a little faint and had to get some fresh air.” Which was a complete lie, as she had been pinned under such a beautiful man earlier, but no one needed to know that.

One other woman laid a hand on her arm, under the guise of sympathy, which had her skin crawling from the clammy skin lingering on hers. But she said nothing, and only smiled further— even batting her eyelashes at the obviously two-faced women.

(Y/n) had no doubt that she had been one of their topics when she had excused herself earlier. It was just how these social circles worked; and she was more than well-versed in that world’s language, having grown up in it and all.

She was just about to thank the women for their ‘heartfelt’ words, but she caught sight of a head of fiery blond hair coming down the stairs from the second floor— all while adjusting the blood red tie that matched his eyes— and felt her heart begin beating faster in her chest.

No one could know that she had even looked his way for the night, because to let everyone know that would be more trouble than her almost-orgasm was worth.

“Ah, but I still feel a little under the weather. So I might be bowing out early for tonight,” The young woman tried for her sincerest tone, but only barely managed to be convincing— what with her mind being solely focused on the blond that was steadily making his way through the crowd.

And, to make matters worse, he was heading right for her with a predatory glint in his eyes.

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

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could you write a coops getting a piercing or tattoo (one or both of them)?

Part 6 of the Coops wedding fics! Thank you to everyone who has read this series--it’s been so much fun writing these, and hearing everyone’s thoughts made the past week an absolute blast. Hope you enjoy!

Check out the rest of the series on the Series Masterlist!

If someone had told twenty-year-old Sirius that in a few years, he would be walking into a tattoo parlor, hand-in-hand with his husband as they prepared to get their wedding date permanently inked on his skin…well, he probably would have laughed in their face. He had never been a big fan of tattoos—they looked cool, sure, but he never understood the point of going through all that hullabaloo for something that would stretch and fade.

Now, though, he saw the point. Wedding rings were amazing, but they were easy to lose; tattoo ink, on the other hand, was a permanent reminder that he had scored the most wonderful person on the planet as his husband.

“Right this way,” Jaya, the young artist with bright blue hair said, smiling as they waved him and Remus into the back. “Congrats on the wedding, by the way. How long has it been?”

“Three weeks.” Remus squeezed his hand and Sirius smiled, running his thumb over the ring. God, he would never get tired of seeing it there.

“It went well, I assume?” Jaya asked as they began setting up.

“It was perfect.” Sirius felt a jolt of fear in his stomach when he saw the tattoo gun, but quickly quashed it down; they had done their research and worked on the design with Jaya even before the actual wedding. He wanted to do this.

“We talked about the process over the phone, but do you have any questions? I’ll go over aftercare again once we’re done.” Jaya paused for a moment, but neither of them spoke up. “Alright, then, which brave soul wants to go first?”

Best to get it over with, Sirius thought. “I can go,” he said, much quieter than intended. Remus raised his eyebrows and he kissed his forehead quickly in reassurance before settling into the chair. He let go of Remus’ hand for a second to pull his shirt over his head, then took it once again and tried to stop the fluttery nerves in his gut.

“Right in the center, yeah?” Jaya leaned down with a stencil, their silver-lined eyes flicking up to Sirius’ face.

“Yep.”

“Alright.” He swallowed hard at the cold feeling of the paper on his skin, just below the hollow of his throat. His neck felt bare without the necklace, but it would be back soon enough. Jaya held a mirror up to show the small numbers. “Look good?”

Sirius nodded. “Let’s do it.”

His heart hammered in his throat and he let out a shaky breath as Jaya cleaned the area and cleaned up their drawing, then picked up the tattoo gun. “Je t’ai,” Remus murmured as he closed his eyes in a last-ditch attempt at relaxing. “You’re alright.”

“Oh, fuck,” Sirius hissed when the needles touched his skin. He clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on Remus’ hand, breathing slowly as pain prickled all across his chest. It felt like a million bee stings, or the last week of his broken ribs healing.

“Do you need a break?” Jaya asked without looking up.

“Just keep going,” he managed, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. The buzzing sound wasn’t quite as frightening as the strange kind of pain, but it certainly didn’t settle his anxiety.

“You okay, baby?” Remus folded his other hand over Sirius’ and traced a pattern into his wrist.

“Mhmm.”

“Lily and James invited us to dinner next week. Harry’s been asking to see the new baby lions at the zoo with you specifically. He’s also learned the word ‘lame’ and won’t stop using it on James.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Lily says it was her fault, but she told James it was me who taught him to say it.” Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“It’s karma. You taught him to actually swear, after all.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Remus complained. “The line is, ‘that’s so unfair, sweetheart, and we need to get revenge’.”

“Right, sor—ow.” Sirius blew out a harsh breath as the needle skimmed over a sensitive patch of skin and bit the inside of his lip.

Jaya made a sympathetic noise. “Just a couple more minutes in this area and then we’ll take a break.”

Sirius turned his head toward Remus and quirked an eyebrow. “Were you trying to distract me?”

“It worked, didn’t it?” He moved one hand up to brush the hair off his forehead; Sirius melted into the touch, channeling his attention into the tingly feeling of Remus’ fingers in his hair. “Almost done, love.”

“I’ve got most of it done,” Jaya said, sitting back at last. “Just cleanup work now, and that’ll only take a few minutes. You’re lucky with all the muscle on your chest. It would hurt like a bitch if it was closer to the bone.”

“It already hurts like a bitch,” Sirius laughed, grimacing as Jaya flexed their hand and leaned in again.

“When you two told me your placements at our first appointment, I was a bit surprised,” they murmured, back in the zone already. “Most first-timers don’t choose such sensitive spots.”

“The placement was the important part,” he said, wincing.

“With your necklace, right?”

“Yep.”

“I always like it when people have cute meanings.” Jaya swiped their cloth over the small tattoo before continuing. “I mean, I got most of my ink because I thought it looked cool, but hearing people’s stories is the best part of the job.”

“Would you say the wrist or the chest is more painful?” Remus asked.

Jaya bit their lip. “Depends on the person. The chest area has more bone, but wrists are notorious for hurting.”

Remus hummed, but Sirius heard the edge of tension and kissed the side of his hand. “You’ll be fine.”

“You’re one in the chair,” he laughed. “I’m supposed to be reassuring you right now.”

Jaya glanced up at him. “Count down from thirty for me?”

Sirius frowned in confusion, but obliged; as soon as he reached ‘zero’, Jaya set the tattoo gun down and stretched their back out. “Was that—is it done?”

“Yep. Congrats, you’ve got a tattoo!” Jaya grinned as he sat up, then handed him a mirror. There, in black ink covering a space the size of a quarter, laid a perfect ‘6/12’. The skin around it was bright, angry red, but Sirius was more focused on the familiar slant to the six and the curl of the two; he had seen it written on the PT room whiteboard countless times and, more recently, their mock-up wedding invitations. “Do you like it?”

Sirius cleared his throat as a lump tightened it. “It’s—I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Jaya handed him his shirt as he stood. Remus took his place, looking a little pale as he rested his hand on the small table Jaya had set up next to the chair. “Still okay with the inside of your wrist?”

Remus hesitated, then set his jaw and nodded. “All good.”

“Are you sure.”

“A hundred percent,”

“Alright, let’s get that stencil on.” Jaya worked with clear intent and smooth ease—that had been one of the main reasons they decided on this shop above the others in the area. The cleaning was quick, Remus approved the stencil, and then they got to work.

“Holy fuck, you weren’t kidding about the wrist,” he half-laughed, gripping Sirius’ hand in a white-knuckled hold. “Now would be a good time to start talking, baby.”

“Oh! Um, we need to pick up eggs from the grocery store.” Jaya had to sit back as they both burst out laughing; Sirius put his face in his free hand to hide his blush. “Sorry, I panicked.”

“Why don’t you tell me about your day with Tremzy?” Remus suggested, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes as he settled back down.

“Yeah, okay,” Sirius said lamely. “Uh, I kicked his ass in Smash Bros.”

“You’ve got yourself a keeper,” Jaya said as they started working on Remus’ wrist again.

He smiled up at Sirius. “I know.”

The next fifty minutes passed much the same as they had while Sirius was getting his tattoo—he chatted almost nonstop, rambling about Logan’s terrible cooking and the standing invitation to bring Regulus along for a ‘we survived the Dumais house’ party. Remus scrunched his face up every few minutes, but Sirius kept their shoulders pressed together as he toyed with his free hand. Jaya gave him a thirty-second countdown as well before wiping away the last of the stray ink with a smile.

“How’s it look?”

Remus’ breath caught when he looked down, running his thumb along the lower edge. “That’s exactly what I wanted, thank you so much.”

“Any time, dude. Both of you have good pain tolerance.” They slid their cart to the side of the room again and stood, gathering some gauze and plastic wrap.

Remus leaned his head on Sirius’ shoulder with a sigh. “You have the prettiest handwriting.”

“And you have no excuse for forgetting our anniversary,” he teased, kissing his cheek. “How’s it feel?”

“Like I just got stabbed by a bunch of needles.”

Jaya snorted as he held his arm out for the bandages. “This might shock you, but…”

The three of them broke down laughing and Sirius shook his head, fiddling with the edge of the tape that he could feel under his shirt. A dull ache had begun spreading warmth over his skin and he knew the itching would drive him half-crazy over the next two weeks, but it was an easy price to pay for having his husband’s handwriting on him for the rest of his life. A permanent ‘I love you’, he had said the night after they decided on the design. Sirius smiled to himself as Jaya outlined the aftercare procedures. Permanent. Permanent sounded good.

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monkey-network · 4 years ago

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Why Klaus IS Christmas Kino

Klaus isn’t flawless, let’s get this out the way. My love for this film won’t deny that it bears a couple nits that can distract the experience. Jesper and Alva’s relationship felt like an eye-rolling inevitability, notable cliches here & there, a notable song felt both fitting and out of place, and while enjoyable, I’m not as big a fan of the climax as I thought. But in spite of it all, I love this film and it is one of the best modern animated Christmas films, period? Follow me here. I could go on about its wonderful animation cuz yeah, it’s unlike any other film. But a philosophy of mine is that the best animation enhances the writing and I can say Klaus is that surprisingly well written and has become an all time Christmas fave

*deep breath in* So let’s do this...

I mention that Klaus has its cliches, but you gotta know that it’s smarter than expected. Believe me when I say if the writers didn’t care, this could’ve actually been so much worse. Jesper could’ve been more manipulative towards everyone for his goals, Klaus would’ve given up entirely after knowing the truth about Jesper, we could’ve had an argument between Jesper and his dad about upholding business, the townsfolk could’ve reverted back to their old ways, plenty writing moments where this could’ve been Emoji Movie levels of insulting to your intellect. BUT, they don’t. The film never really turns back on itself, it keeps moving where, as the notable quote goes, an act of good will sparks another as it starts with Jesper’s father.

Even if nepotism was responsible for Jesper getting the job in the first place, he clearly sees his son be more spoiled than he’s worth so is like, “Ma boi, I will send you to the ends of the earth or leave you to the streets if you don’t do something with yourself.” He never cared about his son representing the postal company, or ruining his top class image, he was only tired of Jesper taking advantage of his fortune while not having any ambition of his own. Can’t help but say Jesper’s dad is a very respectable character because the sole reason the whole plot happened in the first place was because he just wanted his son to do better. It’s that act of genuine consideration that pushes Jesper to his wake up call as he reaches Smeerensburg.

People have compared this movie to Emperor’s New Groove through Jesper’s character and I say yes, but this film takes that next step and put Jesper in the pit of pits way early. Reminds me more of Ratatouille’s beginning where Remy’s lowest point is around the same time as Jesper’s. The harsh atmosphere of the island is treated very blunt in how this is our mailman’s nightmare come true. With his situation, our guy is truly at his lowest. Gives up now, he’ll be cut off his inheritance and probably will have worse. Everyone hates him and each other, his post office itself is in shambles, symbolic of how communication is practically thin outside conflict, and the teacher turned fish seller Alva is that path Jesper could notably be if he didn’t try. Everything is literally grey for this guy, but like Ratatouille, when you’re at your lowest there’s no where else to go but up. That’s where Klaus comes in...

This is genuinely the most clever interpretation of Santa I know, hands down. A well established woodsman, a crafter both of living, for him and the birds that reside in his woods, and recreation with the toys he made himself not just for kids, but specifically the kids he and his wife wanted but couldn’t have. Klaus feels like a real person, not just another take on the mythical man. You’re with him and Jesper as he, after familiar winds provide him a letter, a small spark to do something good, soon opens up and gets reminded of what’s kept him going all these years. It is no wonder he sees his wife in Jesper, it’s thanks to him that he could refurbish his dashed dream into a new one. He didn’t just want to do it for the children of the island, but for himself. That is another thing about this film: communication. I mention before how it’s practically thin at first due to a long going feud that isn’t even aware of why it’s still going. The joy in hate is only for hatred’s sake, and they make it very clear how miserable it all feels. That is where Jesper comes in. They don’t take shortcuts with how he gets the ball rolling, both accidentally and purposefully, he boots up to get things done, pushes himself to go to Klaus to make things happen. This is all in part by the youth, what really ties the plot together...

As I mentioned before (again), life in Smeerensburg is noticeably miserable but thanks to Klaus, by extension Jesper, the kids are enticed to do what it takes to get some genuine joy in their lives through the toys they’re able to get. They’ll make them letters, and if they can’t write, they’ll go to Alva for teachings, and if they act naughty, they’ll try to do good which in turn pushes the adults to do good for the sake of their kids. It really would’ve been one thing to sure enough make the kids spoiled because of the toy giving, focusing more on the extrinsic value of Klaus’s kindness but no. The children are very grateful for these gifts enough to feel compelled to do good, and it makes them feel good as much as it soon makes the adults more convinced to stop fighting. It helps that this all takes place in older times cuz I believe this would’ve been far different, possibly worse, if this took place in modern times. That or just kinda rip off Arthur Christmas, it’s my guess. As such, it gradually becomes an amazing Christmas film because it isn’t just the presents, the Santa Claus myth, the festive style of it all that makes this holiday special to me. It’s the warmth... of togetherness.

My favorite detail about Klaus is how it transitions from cold to warm with its atmosphere. We start out with the emptiest, harshest environment, enough fog to choke your eyes, and then we get to this moment with a brighter, clearer sight of the more united town as the Christmas spirit builds in the film, even when it isn’t even that day yet in-universe, so too does the warmhearted feeling that can come from celebrating it appear more and more. This film fleshes out more of what the Grinch taught me, what A Charlie Brown Christmas taught me, what I’ve come to appreciate about Christmas as I grew up in this materialistic world. I can say everyday can have the Holiday spirit, but Christmas is the time where I feel compelled to be grateful of what I’ve made and got and give back when honestly, I don’t care about getting the most expensive stuff anymore like I used to when I was way younger. This film is so sincere in what it wants to say, and you know this is indeed the same guy that made Minions. Yeah, not kidding and I’ll let you sit with that if you’re reading this as I continue because we have to talk about that moment...

Yeah, I don’t like being the Nostalgia Critic, but I too don’t take kindly to the ‘liar reveal’ trope myself and this could’ve been a point where the film lost me a little. Though you know what? It still works. See, with that trope, what sucks is that it can tend to unravel the plot to where you know as soon as they break apart, they’ll get back together regardless of the deed done. This is why I don’t like A Bug’s Life, don’t @ me. But I’m not saying it can’t done right, like in Over the Hedge. The breakup between Jesper and the others is painful, but it is necessary to give us a couple great character moments. One is with Jesper and his dad, who came back personally to see that Jesper has indeed built something for himself. We get no dialogue between them but it’s clear that even when Jesper’s unintentionally successful thanks to Yzma and Bubba, he can tell his son wasn’t happy leaving everything behind, so he lets him stay since that was what he truly wanted this whole time. Again, give that man some credit for amazing dad. Another moment comes before the big reveal where not only do we see Jesper come to understand his own guilt surrounding his original intentions, but in the end they never hated him for coming back, especially due to him inadvertently stopping the enemy feud all together. Lastly, without that moment, we probably wouldn’t have got this smile. When Margu, purest character ever that I could make a whole segment about but I don’t wanna keep you too long, started to tear up after calling for Jesper thinking he left for good but she then sees our guy never really left and we get this teary smile:

I felt that. Almost more than anything else in this film.

Cliched as it can appear, the execution excels in those more memorable emotions for this film. It’s been a year since I watched this again and I remember so much about these characters. And my god, I haven’t even gotten to the animation which... my god.

Klaus is indeed the most beautiful upon beautiful films I’ve seen, and what makes it better is that it all enhances the story. I mention before of its transitional visual from cold to warm sights, but goddamn, the character designs, the environments, the expressiveness, the textures all amount to style perfect for this alone. I think it would’ve as well received if it had a more flat look, but they seriously went higher for a traditional appealing story that compliments the unique children’s storybook look of it all. This honestly is better than most of modern Disney films that I’ve seen, ironic since it feels like if you took Tangled the Series and made it 3D with more fluid character animation. And if I’m comparing something to the continuous mindblower that’s Tangled the Series, you’ve most certainly got on my best side.

Sergio Pablos and his team really pulled no punches in making this a great movie. A great Christmas movie, one worth seeing if not at least once but every Holiday season for tradition’s sake. Klaus gave me a good time, made me cry, and above all showed me to never stop having a good heart because doing good can indeed go far, thankless as it can be. Heck, my heart felt more rejuvenated than before in making this critique, that’s a testament to how much good this film means to me personally. What else is there to say?

It's The Best

#Klaus #Klaus movie #klaus netflix #Klaus 2019 #movies #art #animation #Christmas #holidays #xmas #analysis #long post #reviews #Good Stuff

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nat-roman0ff · 5 years ago

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the smell after rain

chris evans x female reader word count: 3,421 warnings: smut; oral (male & female recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it, and all that), and some naughty words. - summary: it’s a rainy day, so you and chris do what you do best - fuck. a/n: i don’t think i can ever not write smut anymore. - Rain pangs against the glass of the windows that surround you. It’s late morning, but the dreary rainy day has casted a shade of grey in the usually sunny back room. It’s your favorite room in Chris’s Massachusetts farm house; enclosed in glass, looking out into the lush vast backyard and acres of privacy. It’s that weird time of year in New England between winter and spring where everything is cold and wet but the trees are budding and the grass is bright green and your allergies are revolting against you.

You sniff loudly, not on purpose, but it’s enough for Chris to lift his head from the book he’s buried in.

“Allergies still?” He gives you a soft look from the sofa across the room.

You nod from the chase lounge and pull your throw blanket up tighter, readjusting the book in your hand.

Days like these are your favorite; quiet, spent together but given much needed space. The record player spins a Stevie Wonder vinyl and a mug of hot coffee is by your side. It's the kind of day where nothing extraordinary happens, where you don’t know if it’s 8am or noon, the kind that you can get lost in pure existence.

“Do you want some more coffee?” Chris asks, gesturing to the half empty mug on the small table beside you.

“Please?”

Your boyfriend grins, “of course.”

Chris crosses the room, planting a kiss on the top of your head and leaving the room with your mug. You place your book down, pages split across your chest and sigh, wishing you could just breathe through your goddamn nose normally again. With a frustrated groan, you close your eyes and lean back, focusing on the pleasant rhythm of the rain bouncing around the glass room.

You’re snapped from it when you hear the soft pat of Chris’s footsteps coming back in. You lift your heavy head and grin, Chris cocks his head and gives an empathetic look.

“I brought you some meds -”

“I don’t need to take anything,” you groan, “it’s just allergies I’ll be f—”

You’re cut off by your own sneeze and Chris opens his palm to reveal the two pills in his hand, “take it. I’m tired of listening to you sniffle every thirty seconds.”

“Fine,” you glare, making sure to sniff extra loud.

You sit up in the lounger and take a sip of your warm coffee. It burns the tip of your tongue, and you make a mental note to remind Chris not to put so much sugar in your next cup. He settles back onto the sofa across from you; an ugly old red couch that somehow fits into the cozy space the two of you were sharing. Feeling lonely, you get up, tiptoeing across the room to stand in front of your boyfriend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, a blueprint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You pout, “I wanna cuddle.”

“I’m reading,” he replies, and looks back down to his book, crossing his legs across the cushions, leaning back against the arm of the couch.

You take a half step closer, the tops of your bare thighs touching the spine of his book, “please? I’m cold and lonely.”

“You’re the one who decided not to wear pants,” Chris tuts as he turns the page, not bothering to look up.

You bite your lower lip for a second with a thought; you love the teasing, and Chris loves it too. He loves to leave you desperate and begging for him, at any cost. You’re not sure why the feeling suddenly came over you. It wasn’t necessarily a craving of lust, although that was never something you’d turn down with Chris, but more of an overwhelming feeling of intimacy. The want to be close to him, to melt into his edges and him into yours. To leave you bare and naked until you were nothing more than a series of silent screams and Godly declarations, limbs intertwined, fingers grabbing at anything they can touch.

It starts in your feet, the tingling. Then it works up your spine, raising each little hair on your arms until it charges in your fingertips. You stand dazed in front of your nonchalant boyfriend, dizzy at the thought of him fucking you senselessly into that goddamn ugly ass couch he’s had since he was twenty.

“Please, baby?” You whine, toying with the bottom hem of Chris’s oversized shirt that you wore.

Chris licks his lips, his eyes flickering to watch the way your fingertips dance across your skin, craving to touch you, but knowing he has to wait just a little longer. He adjusts himself slightly, hoping you won’t notice.

You do, and you smirk to yourself.

“No,” he says sternly, “I have to read this for a role and it’s getting to a good part. Later, I promise.”

He knows you’re a woman who refuses to admit defeat. It’s one of the things he loves the most about you, one of the reasons he has a velvet lined box hidden in the bathroom air vent waiting for the perfect time to present you with the shiny engagement ring inside of it. He knows you’re a woman who refuses to admit defeat, but if there’s anyone who can match your stubbornness,

it’s him.

“I’ll suck your dick,” you offer.

It catches him off guard and he chokes on his own spit, “what?”

“I’ll suck your dick,” you repeat, “keep reading, I’ll take care of you.”

You drop to your knees and Chris still stares at you in bewilderment. It definitely wasn’t the first time you’d sucked his dick, nor had it been the first time in this room, or on this couch, or wearing this shirt or on this day of the week. Chris stares at you in bewilderment because he can’t believe how goddamn fucking lucky he got. He swears he must’ve been a saint in a past life.

Chris is half hard when your hand palms over him, he’s thought about you bent over the couch at least a dozen times in the last half hour alone, and another dozen in the five seconds between you dropping to your knees and touching him. His hips move at your touch, when your hand gently runs across the protruding outline of his grey sweatpants. You always tell him they’re a man’s version of lingerie.

He sucks in a sharp breath, trying desperately to concentrate on his book, but your fucking hands. You’re not even properly touching him yet and he’s turning to goo; still two layers of fabric between your skin and his and he’s lost his goddamn mind. You know you’re winning, and he’s starting to realize it too.

Your fingertips play with the waistband of his boxer briefs that stick out just a smidge above his sweatpants, your cold fingertips toying with the edge, grazing the thatch of hair that gathers above it. Finally, your hand disappears under the fabric, palming him under his boxers. Chris lets out a struggled breath, and your eyes flicker to his.

“You’re too easy,” you chuckle.

He sighs, “you’re playing with my ding dong, it’s a little hard to concentrate.”

You snort, “ding dong?”

Before Chris can answer you release his hard cock from it’s cloth prison, your fingers wrapped loosely around it. You bring your head down to give the hearty vein that runs across it a lick, base to tip, swirling your tongue the way he likes.

You waste no time going to work, hallowing your cheeks as you take as much of him in as you can, gagging a little when he hits the back of your throat. Your head bobs, in a slow and steady rhythm, your hand taking care of what your mouth can’t. Chris’s hips buck up into you, hitting the back of your throat again, but the longer you take him, the more you grow used to it. It’s when you’ve taken him all the way that the book falls from his hand and flutters to the floor with a thud.

Chris bundles your hair up in his hands, guiding you up and down on his cock, watching your mouth take him all the way. His fingers tighten into a fist, pulling at your hair as he guides you, “fuck yeah babygirl, just like that. I love watching you take all of me.”

Your fingernails dig into his thighs, moaning against his cock, the vibrations making his eyes roll to the back of his head. When they return and refocus they’re dark.

He has plans for you.

“That’s enough, babygirl,” Chris says, pulling you from him, your lips releasing his hardened cock with a pop.

He lets go of your hair and you quickly wipe away the spit from your mouth and the tiny tears that pricked your eyes from your triggered gag reflex. Chris sits up on the couch, pulling his pants and boxers all the way off and tugging off his tee shirt with one swift movement. You kneel between his legs, looking up at him through thick eyelashes, lusty, lips pink and tingling, the taste of him still on your tongue.

“Stand up,” he orders.

You follow his command and rise in front of him, hands at your side, eagerly awaiting his next demand.

“Take your shirt off. Well, take my shirt off,” he rolls his eyes and grins; even with dark eyes he always lands somewhere soft.

You waste no time taking off the tee shirt. Reaching for the pair of tiny lace underwear you have on, Chris reaches out to stop you, his hand gripping your wrist, “keep those on for now.”

Neither of you move, the chill air in the room pricks at your skin, your nipples standing pert on your breasts. Chris leans forward, his large hands grazing the backs of your legs to bring you closer to him. You take a wobbly half step closer and he plants his mouth on your skin, kissing your lower belly.

Chris kisses as much skin as he can possibly reach; stretching across your stomach, hips and upper thighs. His hands roam freely across your ass, molding the soft flesh there and giving you a squeeze. When he’s satisfied he moves his hands upward to cup your breasts, his fingertips rolling your hardened nipples between them. They’re one of your sensitive spots. One touch there sends a thousand lightening bolts to your sex. You can feel the wetness pooling when flicks his tongue against your left nipple then blows lightly, your head rolling back when he repeats to the other.

“I want you to sit on my face,” Chris says, the sound muffled as he talks with his lips pressed to your skin, “wanna make you come so hard you can’t fucking think straight.”

Chris pulls you closer and on top of him, nipping at your collarbone and neck before placing a single chaste kiss on your lips, “can I make you come now?” He asks, his words gentle, almost a whisper, against your lips.

You let out a breathy laugh, “yeah, you can.”

He grins and adjusts himself, sliding off the edge of the couch and settling his face between your legs, thighs straddling his head. His hands rub your ass, his favorite part of you, giving you a hearty spank before kissing your clothed sex. You squeak at the sensation, and his hand squeezes the flesh of your ass harder, keeping you in place. Your hands grip the backside of the couch, looking out through the glass wall in front of you, pouring rain blurring your sightline to outside.

There’s a quick burn against your skin before you realize Chris has ripped the lace from your body, his hand clutching the shredded remains of your underwear in his fist.

“You asshole! Those are one of my favorites! I could’ve just taken them off. What was the point of that?” You grovel.

Chris chuckles and shrugs, “dramatic effect?”

Before you have a moment to protest his mouth is on you. All your senses are dulled, ears ringing, all you can do is feel. Feel the way his tongue works against your sex, nose nudging against your clit. His beard tickles the inside of your thighs while you place a palm on the glass in front of you. The glass fogs with each breath you take, Chris’s mouth doing overtime on your clit, sucking and lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

He adds two fingers at once, sliding them into your wet folds, curling his fingers to reach for your spot. He doesn’t find it on the first try, or the second, or the third. You’re grinding your face against him when he reaches it, your forehead pressing into the cold glass in front of you as you gasp out choked moans.

“Fuck, Chris right there. Don’t fucking stop.”

The rubber band in your lower belly twists when he hits your spot again, your whole body jerking against him. The glass room grows louder from the echoes of your moans, holding nothing back at this point. You don’t care if the neighbors a half mile away hear you.

Chris loves every second of it. He loves making you scream like you’re some kind of fucking porn star, screaming his name, moaning his name. He has the most perfect view of you, eyes screwed shut, a slight sheen of sweat building on your chest, nipples hard and skin pink, ready to burst.

“I’m gonna fucking come soon, please,” you plead, ready for your release.

You can barely take it, the way he knows the exact millisecond before you’re about to come - the way he gets you there only to back off, slow down and build you back up again, over and over until you’re breathless, panting his name between moans and curses.

When he finally lets you go, he swears it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Your hand slides from the glass to grip the back edge of the couch, taking in gasping huge breaths as you try and remember your first name. Chris’s tongue never stops, just slows, lapping up every aftershock your body releases as you come down from your high, your fingers eventually threading through his hair.

“Good?” He asks, letting you fall to the couch.

“Good,” you reply, as he sits beside you, rubbing your back as you return down to planet Earth.

Your eyes fall to his lap, and his pink, sore, throbbing cock, “want me to help with that?”

“No rush, babygirl.”

You muster what strength you do have and straddle his lap, grinding yourself against him, getting him slick and ready for you. Chris’s face disappears in your neck, buried in your hair, kissing your skin tacky with sweat. You reach between the two of you and give him a couple pumps before guiding him into you. Chris groans from somewhere deep inside of him when you bottom out. You don’t move, giving your body a second to adjust.

“It’s going to take me a second,” you say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, his already in an iron lock around your waist, “I’m still sensitive.”

“Take your time, I’m not gonna last long anyways,” he grunts.

Your walls clench around him and you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. He might not be begging you to move, but his cock is, so you start slow. The first time sparks something in you, still not fully off your last high. You start thinking you might not last very long either.

Chris loves when you ride him, he loves being able to hold you close while you fuck him. He loves watching you bounce, and the way you throw your head back when you come all over him. He loves watching you let go and fall apart on him, the rawness of it all. It’s not perfect; you’d fallen off the bed more times than he could count, or that one time you came so hard you accidentally punched a hole in the wall. It’s not perfect, but it’s you.

He loosens his vice grip around your waist to properly watch you, brushing your hair over your shoulders to see your breasts bounce in front of him. You grip his shoulders, nails digging little crescent moons into his skin. You’re heading towards your high faster this time; the fullness of him overwhelms you, and when he adds the rough pad of his thumb to your clit, it’s game over.

Chris rubs circles into your clit as you ride him, skin slapping against skin. Beads of sweat pool at your temples, and the room begins to feel overwhelmingly hot, but your skin is still cool and clammy to the touch. The heat rises from your limbs, your fingers and toes, into your chest, and sternum and lands in your lower belly. It’s like waiting for an incoming tide. You work yourself harder on him, moving faster than ever, Chris trying to keep up as you chase desperately after your second high.

“Faster,” you breathe, and he quickens his pace, rubbing sloppy circles against your clit, hoping one of them will hit just right.

You feel it, fast and hard, the tide coming to shore. Your second orgasm is stronger than the first, and you can feel your wetness leak over Chris’s thighs, skin slick as you moan out his name over and over threaded with colorful phrasing.

Without any time to come down, Chris wraps a strong arm around you, “I need you just a little bit longer babygirl,” he says, lifting you and bringing the both of you to the floor, the rug scratchy against your back.

“I don’t know if I can,” you say, breathless, your limbs weak.

Chris wastes no time thrusting back into you, jaw clenched tight, crease in the middle of his forehead strong with concentration, “one more for me, okay?” He says.

You nod your head and look at the glass ceiling, watching the rain pound against it and slide down the apex of the roof. It takes all of your strength to wrap your legs around Chris’s waist, pulling him in closer.

His thrusts grow sloppier with each one, the veins in his strong arms protruding, his skin shiny with sweat. Chris leans forward on one elbow, using his other arm to slide under you and prop up your lower body, allowing him a new angle. You both moan as he hits your spot over and over again. His thrusting is impossibly fast, slamming into you with all he has left in him. The sound of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with the breathless pants of your symphony.

You reach for Chris’s hand and intertwine your fingers with his. You can tell he’s close, he’s getting sloppy and slower, and finally he hits your spot in the way that leaves you seeing nothing but static stars. It’s a sucker punch to the gut; there’s no screaming his name, just a gasp of air and then a dizzying freefall back to reality.

Chris finishes soon after, with a flurry of your name intertwined with ‘I love yous’. He collapses on top of you, burying his face in your neck and hair, breathing you in every way he can.

It’s quiet in the room again. The rain pours as it has all day and streaks against the glass walls, muddying the outside world. The two of you lay there a while, your fingers lingering up and down his sides, his skin prickling under your touch. His body had changed, he’d grown softer around his edges. Not that you minded; you preferred him on the softer side. He was better to cuddle with.

“That was nice,” you hum.

Chris lifts his head, “I just made you come three times, I would hope it was more than ‘nice’,” he laughs.

You snort and roll into him, hitching a leg over his hip, “it was amazing. Top ten performance.”

He smiles, “well I’m certainly glad to hear it was one of my better performances. You feeling better?”

You breathe through your nose

You breathe through your nose.

“Oh my god! I can breathe through my nose again!” You exclaim.

Chris wraps his arm around you and squeezes tight, pecking your nose, “good. Want to go make some naked lunch? Should probably carb up after that.”

“Oh thank God, I’m starving.”

#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic

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its5amandimbored · 4 years ago

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Part five of my fowl twins memes/review/reaction Ok so I reread all the artemis fowl books and made memes on them which you can find down here (I'll be keeping the fowl twins stuff in there too, just to keep everything together)

Artemis fowl memes

I basically decided to blindly read the fowl twins and react to it and talk about while also sprinkling in some memes

Also you probably shouldn't see this until you've read the book or be prepared for spoilers. Fair warning.

Myles is such a little shit tbh. Like imagine you're a genius, like a certified genius, with like a shit ton of life experience cause you've been through hell and back and you've seen death mutiple times and have been traumatized and saved the world multiple times and been close to death to many times to count have seen your mother go into insanity and your father die. So you're just done with life at this point, you're just a tired person. And you go to a university to give a lecture because you're a certified genius with three doctorates, and you're little brother who's like 15-18 years younger then you (depending on whether you think legally or physically) right, he's like 6 years old or something and he sneaks into the audience and starts like bullying you from the audience and insulting your scientific theory. And then you go to space and he sends you a message insulting you and your theory as your on way you to mars. Like. I would not be able to handle a brother like myles, artemis must be the most patient man on the planet to deal with him on a daily basis for years and never hurt him. Would've turned that rocket ship around to slap him. Maybe that's what his whole development lead to in the books. Maybe all the growth he went through was to help him not physically or emotionally destroy his little brother. I like to think if artemis had have to deal with myles when he was 12 he would've been verbally bullying him all the time while now he's just like tiredly nodding along like "yea ok."

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Holy shit. Myles is crazy. He's like "I'll prove I was right! I'll show em! I'll show em all!" Proceeds to destroy a building to prove his theory. I know no one got hurt or at least according to the books but he didn't know that.

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Imagine knowing your brother is such a little shit that in order to stop him from finding out what you're doing and stop him from being a peice of shit with your work you have to make up an entire scientific theory, present it in a lecture to some prestigious university in the hopes that he'll make fun of it and dedicate so much time to making fun of it he won't realize what you're working on.

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Lazuli involved in this crazy fowl adventure like

Lazuli is gonna get back like "holy shit. Oh my god. What the fuck was that??" And Holly's gonna be like "oh honey, same. I can tell you some stories"

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Ok artemis smiling more when he thinks of his little brothers greeting him is adorable. Artemis with the twins reminds me of a picture I saw a long time ago where someone was holding a grumpy serious cat and a goofy golden retriever and was like "this is my grumpy asshole, and my idiot. I love them both so much" and I really want like a picture of artemis hugging the twins with myles looking like he gonna punch someone and beckett just with a goofy grin with that caption cause honestly

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Kind of don't like that they keep saying this. Like first, don't keep saying like "fowls are friends with fairies" when it's really only the one fowl and the like 3 fairies. Like artemis is the only fowl to ever befriend or help fairies. Also stop saying friends forever artemis fowl the second would never say that and it reminds me to much of the movie. Also it has not been long it's been a few years, not even a generation. Like I guess he's just trying to emphasize the points so his brothers don't like try to make enemies with these fairies but it's still bothering me. Also don't just trust every single fairy. Fairies have tried killing you. And you do have magical enemies so like

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Alright artemis being a cute protective brother and myles being a little shit like "god we could only die. Stop being so emotional brother." Is the content I wanted. Why can't artemis be in the books? Like I just want some good sibling interactions. Also like artemis is around 10 years older then the twins. I know technically he's older because of the fifth book but he must feel around ten years older then them. He was 14 when he first met them and they were toddlers. Plus his parents seem to never be around, basically every time we see the twins they're home alone or with juliet or artemis or something. So he must've felt super protective of them, especially considering he went through so much trauma himself he would've wanted to prevent his little brothers from going through that. Like the few scenes we get with him and the twins in the artemis fowl series and this book is nothing but him being a very protective care giver. The very first scene with him and the twins, this is literal weeks after him meeting them, he's teaching them stuff and finger painting with them despite him hate doing messy or childish things, and he also programs myles toy monkey to have phrases and respond to myles. This is a little bit after he meets them meaning that he basically came home after 4 years of his life gone. He literally lost four years of his life he will never get back. Found out his parents immediately had children (I would've felt like they had replaced me.) And that he had two little brothers. And his immidete reaction was to make sure they were happy and to play with them and teach them new things and make toys for them. Like damn. Then in the 7th book he tells his mother that this will the last adventure and then he'll spend more time with the twins. Not "I'll spend more time on my education" not "more time with the family" more time with the TWINS, specifically his little brothers. Then in the 8th book despite usually being a serious person who tries to stay away from emotional reactions and stick to logic and reason, even when butler gets shot although he's very upset he forces himself to not cry and to immediately find a solution while in the 8th book he finds out his little brothers are in trouble, and immediately takes off for the house despite knowing he's running into danger and that there's probably safer ways to solve this if he stopped to think. Then he abandons all logic when faced with his brothers being possesed and even forgets the problem in front of him, of there being basically zombies in his house, because he's to focused on myles holding a sharp object and hurting himself. We then find out he got a customized fairy chair specifically made for his little brother and also knows his brothers favorite drink and exactly how to make it and serves it to him to comfort him from the recent possession. Then in this book we find out he made the NANNI system for his brothers to keep them safe, connected it to myle's glasses, gave him a laser but not a strong one because he was scared of his little brother hurting himself or others by accident, had a bonding moment with his little brother working on the NANNI system with him, and told them bed time stories of his adventures. Like it's adorable. Especially when you see someone so professional and serious and formal like artemis acting like this

I just wish we could see him interacting with them in person

#artemis fowl #artemis fowl memes #the fowl twins #myles fowl #beckett fowl #lazuli heitz #domovoi butler #butler

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dokoni-mo · 4 years ago

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Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 3)

(A/N: hello all yet again! welcome back to my little series here on this little cite!! :) I am so glad that y’all have been enjoying my series thus far. I have had a blast writing it and seeing y’all’s reactions to it. As always, please feel free to ask to be on the taglist for this, or just ask questions about the series in general! I love talking with yall :))) links for the previous chapters have been provided below. This is where the series is really gonna start picking up, so stay tuned!!! also, do I see the smut chapter on the horizon? I believe I do...)

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

WARNINGS: slight angst, a bit of crying, mentions of death (nothing too serious), cursing, otherwise none!!

Key: (F/N) = first name, (L/N) = last name

Word Count: ~4600

Peace and tranquility were two old friends that had not visited in a long time. Yet, they finally came for one today.

After cleaning yourself off that morning and hastily getting yourself ready, you had made your way over to the site of our new workstation: Lord Vader’s personal hangar, primarily used for entering and exiting the Super Star Destroyer on his TIE.

The walk to your new station was everything but pleasant. Everyone had seemed to know exactly what you were up to. This is partially due to the fact that you were now the talk-of-the-town amongst your peers. Some new-face baby coming here and getting one of the highest positions imaginable so damn quickly? Unheard of. Getting picked out personally by the Dark Lord himself? Impossible. Unimaginable. How could someone like (L/N) manage to pull off the impossible?

This was also partially due to the direction you were headed. Anyone walking this direction was always eyed by those around them, if they didn’t happen to look exactly like some odd mouse droid. Lord Vader’s hangar was located dangerously close to his personal quarters. Everyone knew that it was the number one unwritten rule of working on this empirical vessel: Do NOT enter Lord Vader’s personal quarters under any circumstance. Unless you wanted to be dead within a matter of mere seconds, do NOT enter that room. Everyone had heard the stories of those who had tried. A stormtrooper who came out with his neck snapped, a woman who was impaled with his lightsaber, each one more terrifying than the last. So, as your polished, black boots clacked right in that direction, it was only natural that you got some stares and silent prayers for your safety.

You thanked them silently and unconsciously, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

Following the directions that the old officer gave you, you eventually made your ways over to the new doors of the new hangar. The doors were almost exactly like him. Tall, dark, cold, unforgiving, to name a few characteristics. As you stood before them, you felt an odd feeling of nervousness in the bottom of your diaphragm, your fingers trembling all so slightly.

If I ever piss him off, you thought to yourself, there is no one around to hear me scream.

But who would care?

Who would dare challenge the Dark Lord himself?

No one. No one at all. So, don’t screw this up, (F/N).

Without turning your head, you let your eyes fall to the keypad adjacent to the door, it's buttons emanating a soft glow. Reaching out a hand, you punched in the digits that the old man gave you to allow you access into the hangar. You were surprised that the code actually worked, despite you knowing that it would. In the back of your head, you had still thought that maybe that old officer was somehow toying with you. That door opening was confirmation that this was no sick joke.

Stepping into that hangar almost felt like stepping right into the jaws of some beast. The hangar looked almost exactly like your last one, only smaller. However, you instantly noticed that it was much quieter than the one you had started with. Much emptier, too. The only thing within the whole hangar was one workbench full of tools, a few crates of unknown contents, one mechanic who’s heartbeat was thumping a mile a minute, and one destroyed TIE Advanced x1.

Despite the atmosphere of unease, you smiled brightly at your surroundings.

It was so quiet. Tranquil, even.

You were so happy to finally be able to work in peace.

As your first action as Darth Vader’s personal mechanic, you quickly ripped off your uniform jacket and threw it on the ground, giving it a kick and a stomp. You hated that thing. And, Lord Vader never seemed to mind you breaking your dress code. So, you decided that your new uniform was your pants, boots, goggles, and tank top.

Eat shit, Empire.

Your second action was to immediately get to work.

~~~

The silence was much more deafening than you had originally thought.

Yes, it was nice not having to listen to the annoying chatter of the other workers in your prior hangar, but this was something else. The silence had let you slip into your own thoughts far too often, much the opposite to your liking. Thinking let your mind wander, and you had a tendency to think about impossible scenarios. Going back home, seeing your family again, finding a new job, to name a few.

The diagnostic had returned nothing of great importance, thank the stars. Just some alerts of wires being fried. Nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Right now, sweat was leaving a heavy sheen on your forehead, and your arms and legs were screaming for some sort of rest. You were currently trying to make some progress to the destroyed wing of the craft, a way to take a break from trying to turn the damn computer back online. And, this wing was giving you no sort of break. Of course it wouldn’t, (F/N). Nothing is ever easy anymore.

You currently had the biggest wrench you had on your workbench wrapped tightly in your grasp, to the point where it made your knuckles white and your palms burn. Your nose and eyes were scrunched, your teeth bore for all to see as you tensed your shoulders and pulled the tool towards you with all your might. You needed this bolt off for you to gain access to the ligaments of the wing that held it onto the TIE. You had tried everything else to get it off (burning it off, freezing it off, and even praying to your maker while giving the ship a swift kick in the ass), but nothing had seemed to work. You were only left with one last tactic: hoping your brute strength was enough to pry off the stubborn piece of shit.

Tears had started to brim in your eyes from the stress of your pulling. Your arms were so tired, and your legs were equally as such. Relaxing your muscles suddenly, you loosened your grip on the wrench, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Panting in silence for a moment, you turned your hands over to inspect them. They were much redder than normal, and the joints in your fingers ached like hell.

Looking down at your hands in silence, you were overcome with an emotion you had no way of describing.

Why were you here? Why did you even accept this job in the first place? Things were so much simpler when the Empire hadn’t come to your home planet, when it was just you, mom, and dad. You could have run. You could have gone with them off-world, but you didn’t believe them. You didn’t believe that the Empire would totally destroy your home. You didn’t believe that the Empire would force you into working for them just so that you could have some sense of protection. You didn’t believe that if you had stepped into their hands, you would never see your home or parents again.

Liars, you had thought back then, mom and dad do not see the truth.

Oh, how wrong you were.

If you could turn back time right then and right there, you would punch your past self in the face for being so fucking blind.

You didn’t notice that you were crying until you felt something warm and wet drop against your palm. Focusing your attention back, you stared deeply at the small puddle on your palm. Letting your mind brew a few moments longer, you frowned deeply as you closed your eyes and bunched your hands into fists. You leaned against the surface of the TIE Advanced, covering your face from the outside world.

Maker above, please, grant me the power to turn back the hands of time. Even for just one day.

Your legs finally giving out, you slowly slid down the surface of the ship until you were crouched on the cold, shiny floor, your tears now only a slight trickle. Forgetting exactly where you were, why you were there, and who exactly was your boss, you sniffled as you allowed yourself to lay on the ground, your legs and arms sighing in relief.

Staring up at the ceiling above you, you had noticed that there was a small window garnishing the roof of the hangar. This had caused you to let out a small chuckle past your tears. Something added to this damn ship purely for aesthetics? You must be going crazy.

Looking at the window, you let your eyes be transfixed on the view that the tiny opening provided. The stars were just barely visible from your point of view, like miniscule flecks of dust. A fleeting moment of relaxation overtaking you, a thought quickly made its way across your brain.

I need to get back to work.

You made no attempt to do so as you felt your eyelids become heavier and heavier.

~~~

He had only the faintest idea of exactly how long you had been there when he found you.

He had sensed your force energy waver from halfway across the Super Star Destroyer. The sheer amount of anger and frustration emanating off of your person was surprising. He had thought that you were the more calm and collected type, but reminded himself that human emotions were common. It surprised him that someone as small as you could feel such overwhelming amounts of anger. Being a sith lord, he would say that he was almost impressed. However, something inside of him kept him from feeling as such.

Instead, he felt… saddened. He didn’t exactly know why.

As fast as your immense feeling of anger came, it went. Sensing this new feeling within you, his attention was piqued.

A deep sadness. A melancholy, even.

For a moment, he couldn’t tell where exactly he had felt such a thing before. He did not have to delve far into this memory before realizing exactly where he has sensed such strong feelings prior to now.

He had felt them from within himself.

As he was currently in a meeting with some high-ranking officers and a handful of moffs, he knew he couldn’t step away so suddenly and without warning without them pestering him. He did not like to be pestered. Yet, something deep down inside him told him to go to you, to check on you and make sure that you were…

No. He had more important matters to attend to, he told himself.

Continuing on with his meeting, he couldn’t help but feel an odd sensation bubble within the core of his being. It pulled him away from the meeting, and beckoned him to leave these people and direct his attention towards you.

There are more important matters to attend to, he had tried to tell himself, but his thoughts did nothing to silence the voice telling him to leave.

After a long moment or two, he felt what was left of his natural body stiffen beneath the leather and robotics that encased him. Honing in on your force energy once again, he felt a cold feeling run through the web of nerves that remained within his body. Your presence had faded suddenly, a shadow of itself only a few moments prior. He couldn’t tell what you were feeling.

Surprising him, he felt his mind race with various scenarios of what could have happened. Was something finally fixed on the ship? Had you inadvertently broken something further? Were you taking a break?

He clenched his fist when the most worrisome thought of all popped inside of his head, making all the others fade away into nothing.

Were you dead?

He tried in vain to calm himself of the thought and put it to rest. He had seen you only the night before, and you appeared to be in perfect health. You had even smiled. This did little to calm him, however. As he would try to focus on what these idiotic officers had to say, his mind would always slip back to you.

A great sense of frustration started to smother him whole, causing him to clench his fist even tighter. He was frustrated that he could not pay attention to the meeting. He was frustrated that he had to attend the meeting in the first place. He was frustrated that these officers and moffs were so damn stupid. However, most of all…

He was frustrated that he couldn’t go to you.

He was frustrated that you had such a profound effect on him. You were just his mechanic. Why did he care whether you were dead or alive? You could be replaced.

...couldn’t you?

The second that words were spoken to signal the end of the meeting, he had turned and exited the meeting room, the wind of his fast exit making his cape flutter behind him. He sensed that the other men in the room were confused and almost startled by his sudden departure, but he didn’t care. He had to go to his hangar immediately.

Marching past all the other workers of the Super Star Destroyer in his path, he ignored all who tried to grab his attention. Idiots. Fools. Worms.

Couldn’t they see that he was in a hurry?

But why was he?

Why was he so in need to see you? To hear your voice and see your eyes? To hear a report on your progress?

Because (F/N) is my mechanic. Nothing more, he told himself. Why did it feel like a lie?

Finally at the doors of his hangar, he punched in his code to the keypad and stepped through the doors. The space was eerily quiet, and this unnerved him. Were his suspicions true?

Hastily making his way over to your workstation, he couldn't help but notice the palm of your small hand capsized on the floor in front of his TIE, the rest of your body obscured by a crate in the way.

No.

This cannot be.

Quickening his pace, he moved his hand to extend in front of him. Reaching out with the force, he threw the crate covering the sight of you across the hangar, it’s landing making an unholy crashing noise.

As he drew closer to you, he noticed how you were laid on the floor, one hand stretched to an unknown receiver and the other pulled close to your chest. You were resting on your side, and, unsurprisingly, your jacket was long since discarded. He did not blame you for hating that infernal article of clothing.

Finally within conversation distance to you, he stopped his quick pace and pointed the face of his mask to look at the tiny frame at his feet. Watching you carefully, he noticed that your chest and shoulders were slowly rising and falling in a rhythmic beat.

You were alive.

He pretended not to notice the feeling of relief wash over him.

~~~

When you finally awoke again, you were immediately hit with three startling realizations.

Number one: you had no idea how much time had elapsed since you were looking at that window. Squinting your eyes to open slightly, you tried to process the time based on the amount of light within the hangar. This was hard to do, however, since you were still very groggy from your sleep. A for effort anyway.

Number two: you were no longer on the floor where you had originally laid down. You could tell this from the feeling of one of your legs dangling off the edge of the object you were laying on, as well as the same feeling in one of your hands. This was confirmed as you pulled in your hands close to your chest, turned your torso, and pushed yourself up with wobbling arms. Your mind was still very fuzzy, but you were just able to make out the foregin surface beneath you. From the patterns on its surface, you deduced that it was one of the crates that littered your workstation.

Number three, and probably the most frightening of all: you were not alone. After a moment of your grogginess slipping off of your body, your ears finally turned back into your consciousness. They told you of the noise they heard, and the fear you should be feeling as a result of it.

Heavy, mechanical, rhythmic, breath.

His breath.

Taking a quick glance up from the surface of the crate, you beckoned your eyes to tell you whether or not your two ears were the biggest liars in the galaxy or not. Of course, they weren’t. Before you was that silhouette you knew all too well.

Shit.

Quickly rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you scrambled to try and stand up and assume your attention stance. You found this difficult, however, since your muscles were still aching from before.

Oh maker, you thought, is this how I die?

“My Lord! Lord Vader!” you were able to say, your eyes finally able to focus on your boss. After a moment of processing the sight before you, you thought that maybe you were dreaming, or somehow hit your head on the way down to the ground. Lord Vader was about ten feet away from you, his buff arms folded across his large, taunt chest, and his gaze locked firmy on your frame. All of these were not surprising. What was surprising, is that he was doing all of this from a seated position upon another crate, only this one had obvious scratches and skid marks on it. Was it always like that?

You realized that this was the first time that you had ever seen Darth Vader sit down. He was always standing, always looming above everyone you ever saw. But, even as he was in a more neutral and open position, he was still very intimidating. If anything, he looked even bigger and more dominating than when he was standing up.

You hoped he didn’t notice how your cheeks turned pink as you beheld him before you.

“My Lord, my apologies you have to see me this way, I-I have no idea...” you began to speak. If he was going to kill you, he was sure taking his sweet time with it. He had every reason to do so. You were resting on the job. Not even pretending to do your job, on the first damn day no less! This would have been met with the harshest punishments by the officers. And, if the stories had taught you anything, Lord Vader’s would be even harsher.

Trying to formulate the rest of your apology, you were also trying again and again to stand at attention. Your arms and legs, however, had different plans. Their weakness kept you firmly in your sitting position upon the crate. This only made the internal panic for your life stronger. Lord Vader detested weakness. Saw it as only a burden, and would be eradicated swiftly and unkindly.

After a few attempts to stand and choke out an apology, Lord Vader rose from his sitting position, letting his strong arms fall to his sides. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. He was coming to kill you. You knew it. You would be dead here in a matter of minutes, sliced in two by his red saber.

Adrenaline kicking in, you hoped that the hormone would give you the strength to stand once again. Nothing.

Vader stepped slowly and decisively closer to you, his gaze still locked upon you. Despite the rapid beating of your heart and your brain telling you to run as fast as you could, you stayed put. Lowering your head, you stared down at your feet and sighed quietly, taking a long, slow blink. If he was going to kill you, you hoped that he would give you at least the mercy of making it as quick as possible.

Once he stopped about three feet away from you, you closed your eyes and braced yourself to hear the sound of his saber igniting in his grasp.

This never came.

Instead, you felt something heavy, strong, and leathery make contact with your left shoulder. It was enormous, and dwarfed the joint in almost every way. Picking up your head, you darted your eyes over to the source of the pressure. Following your gaze from the touch, you followed it to its source.

Lord Vader.

His hand was on your shoulder.

Maybe you really had hit your head on your way to the ground.

“(F/N),” he said, his mask pointed squarely on your face, “I have been waiting some time for you to awaken. Do you wish to tell me why I have found you in such a state?”

Oh yeah. You definitely hit your head on the way down.

Licking your bottom lip and swallowing, you paused a moment before responding. You decided to tell the truth. If he wanted me dead, you figured, he would’ve killed me already. He doesn’t seem the type to draw these things out.

“I… I was trying to loosen one of the bolts on your TIE, my Lord. I tried many methods to remove it, but none of them worked. So, I thought that I would try and just try and pry it off myself. I guess I tried too hard because I just felt so weak all the sudden… Please pardon me, my Lord, I was not trying to avoid my work.” You said, letting your gaze fall only briefly as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You felt your cheeks burn brighter the longer he had his hand on your shoulder.

“I see.” he said flatly, taking his hand off of you and placing it on his belt alongside his other hand. Perhaps it was because it had been so long since you felt something like it, but you quickly missed the feeling of his hand upon your body.

“I do hope that you have enough strength to continue on with the day, Miss (F/N). I can see that you are making good progress, and it would be a shame if you did not continue as such.” he continued, tilting his head to the side.

“Y-yes, My Lord. I can continue on with the day.”

“Good.” he responded. Lifting up his hand once again, he unfurled it from it's gripping position, pointing his palm towards the ceiling as he extended it within your gripping distance. It took you a second of staring at his hand dumbly for you to register what exactly he was doing. “Do not allow me to keep you occupied then, Miss (F/N).”

Flicking your gaze from his hand to his mask over and over again, you hesitantly lifted your hand, your fingers loose. Gently placing your hand within his, another shot of blush made its way onto your cheeks. Your hand was noticeably smaller than his, your palm and fingers being dwarfed by his own. You could barely wrap your hand around his.

Once your grip was secure, Lord Vader wrapped his robotic digits around your grasp. Cue another shot of blush on your cheeks. His grip was strong, secure, stable.

Deep down within you, you wondered what it would feel like to have his hands on other parts of your body.

Helping you bring you to your feet, Lord Vader flexed his arm to pull you up off the crate. The strong motion definitely helping you to your feet, your legs only wobbling in protest for a moment before allowing you to stand again.

You were now awfully close to Lord Vader.

Only about a foot away, your hand still wrapped tightly in his.

Realizing that you had forgotten to pull your hand back, you blushed for what seemed like the fifteen-millionth time that day and slowly pulled it back. You kept your neck craned as you looked up at him, your height different now more apparent than ever. Looking right into the eyes of his black, menacing mask you mumbled out a quiet thank you, my Lord.

The two of you stood dead-locked in a galaxy-wide championship of a staring contest for a long while. The only sound that interrupted the silence between two of you were his breath and the distant rumbling of the engines of the Super Star Destroyer. Many thoughts darted through your head as you looked right at him, trying to see if you could see his eyes beneath the mask’s.

What exactly is his game here? Why didn’t he just kill me? Am I that important? Of course not, I’m just a mechanic, he could always get another one. Then why? I wish I could see his face. Don’t think that, (F/N), that would never happen. I want him to touch me again. STOP THAT, (F/N). I don’t want him to leave. I want…

Stop humoring yourself, (F/N). He sees you as his mechanic. Nothing more.

It was him that broke the silence again. A simple sentence, nothing more.

“Do not dawdle any longer, (F/N). I will return again for another report at a later time.”

You gave him a nod and a courteous yes, my Lord before he turned to leave, walking off yet again.

Sighing to yourself, you returned to your earlier position, wrapping your hand around the wrench that was still wrapped around the bolt from before. You had hoped that the bolt would have just magically loosened itself from the time you had fallen asleep to now.

With a brief complaint from your arms, you tried pulling the wrench towards you once again. Big shocker, it still didn't move. Cursing to yourself silently, you tried again. Want an even bigger shocker? It still didn’t move. Surprising, isn’t it?

Taking a step back to try and think of some other way that you could pry off this bolt, you shook out the pain from your hands, your brow furrowing.

You thought that you must be hallucinating as you stared at the wrench. Without you even touching it, the wrench had started to turn towards you, taking the stubborn bolt along with it. Your confusion only grew as it repeated this motion a few more times until, suddenly, and without warning, the bolt came undone, crashing on the floor with the wrench. The sudden noise made you flinch and jump back, your mouth opening in a silent yelp.

You were beyond bewildered. How the hell did that happen? Are you high? Hallucinating?

Quickly putting two and two together, you turned your body to the door, your lips parting. Sure enough, there he was, his hand extended it the direction of the wrench and bolt, fingers relaxed. You couldn’t believe it. You had heard the stories of this power before, his power, but you didn’t believe them. You thought it had just been people exaggerating the level of his strength. But, now, you knew that it sure as fuck wasn’t.

You should have been scared. You should have cowered in fear, knowing that all the legends you heard were true. Yet, you didn’t. You couldn’t, even.

All you could do was smile. Smile like a dopey, bumbling idiot and laugh in disbelief.

You had no idea what came over you.

Calling out a hasty thank you, my Lord, you hoped that you didn’t look as girlish and giddy to him as you felt. You hadn’t smiled like this in such a long time.

Offering nothing more than a long look and a nod, Lord Vader left the hangar, leaving you alone there once more.

You ate an extra ration that night, the ghost of Vader’s touch still lingering in your nerves.

How you craved for him to do it again.

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfiction #fanfic #star wars fanfic

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kanene-yaaay-o-retorno · 4 years ago

Text

The Color of my Soul(mates) [2]

[First oneshot]

[AO3 link]

Kanene’s Notes:

Nope, I do not regret the pun. New oneshot yaaaay!! Just a quick reminder that both Virgil and Patton’s mindsets are bad. They can work, of course, but only for a certain expense. Worry not. They will both start to go to a therapist and take care of themselves, even though this will not be heavily shown in the oneshots.

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Moxiety and Past Moceit and Past Virgil/Remus (no idea how it’s called dfghjdfghj) in a platonic relationship (yet), but it can be viewed as romantic, if you wish.

* Swearing, depreciative thoughts, losing someone (not death, just stopping to be soulmate), anger issues, anxious thoughts and nightmares. It’s hurt/comfort.

* [~*~] Means passage of time

* [...] Means change in the focus of the narrative

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 5.300 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Say to someone important how much you love them, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

[~*~]

Loneliness is an island with missing boats.

Missing is when the moment tries to run away from the memories to happen again and can’t do it.

Memories are when, even without authorization your thinking re-presents a chapter.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[~*~]

Hey, Dee! It’s been some time, huh? Nothing really happened around here, so I have no interesting news to share today. Buut, I learned a new knock knock joke! I would finally get you to laugh with this one! It’s like that:

Me: Knock, knock.

U: Who’s there?

Me: Ice cream.

U: Ice cream who?

Me: Ice cream if you don’t let me in!

Funny, right?!

… It feels silly to continue to talk with you through those letters. I can’t-

I don’t even know where to send them! That is stup- not great.

I just… I just miss you, Dee. A lot. My uncle says that I should get your old representation out of the bed and hide it so I can start moving on, but… It feels empty, you know? Everything.

I really miss you.

Love, Heart.

[…]

“No.”

His words echoed in his mind, the strap of his backpack slipping from his grip, his body throwing itself forward, heart jumping in the back of his throat as his steps inevitably brought him even closer to the faded green, almost white, shark plushie in front of him.

“No.”

He repeated, as if this was a spell able to make the scene before him change. His hands trembled and failed in touching the so loved object, a silent scream slipping from his slightly parted lips. Yet, he still tried to think of something. Anything that would erase his choices. He knew it.

He should have known. He read about it before, the butterfly effect. Any choice, any movement, any little thing you did could change drastically your future. It could make events – people – which would happen in your life just…

Disappear.

[The stuffed animal remained quiet on his hands, it’s blank face staring superficially, not really seeing him. Not like before.]

He knew it.

“Rat?” He knew it. He knew it. He knew, knew, knewknewknew it! “Ree?” His soul searched desperate for an answer. But he got none. No thoughts, no feelings, no small touches, no acknowledging sparks, nothing.

That word seemed to ring unbearably in his ears. There was nothing there. Nothing except for the silence and the void which filled itself with despair at every that went by.

“This better not be a prank or this time I will throw you in the washing machine for real!” Virgil’s eyes were stinging. He should have done better, should have thought in another way or another anything. He shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t!

“Ree, stop. That is not funny.” Ree actually preferred when Virgil called him Rat, and as his chest was scratched by an agonizing, crescent fear, deep down the young boy wished his soulmate would jump – his thoughts always felt like that, excited, uncontrollable jumpy frogs just playing around – from somewhere and demands Virgil called him by it. “Answer me!!”

His fingers squished the soft fabric, a short, unexpected wave of anger pleading for at least a shout of pain before Virgil realized what he was doing, immediately lighting his touch, tears shining in a sad gloom in the corner of his eyes. His breathing started to hurt.

He needed to do something.

“MOM!!”

Virgil opened his door with a strong slam, running through the wooded floor of the corridor, stumbling his way to the stairs, coming down at the highest speed he could muster. The adult figure was already standing in the living room, the Tv blasting a show in the background, probably the activity his mother was concentrating on before his cry. A frown painted her face and her dark eyes stared at the boy when he stood in front of her, holding his stuffed shark in her direction.

“Fix him!”

[‘it’ a quiet whisper from his brain corrected his sentence.]

Her analytical eyes danced around the toy in front of her, looking for any teared fabric, any stain or hint of what happened to it, the confusion in her actions becoming more and more prominent as no visible result was found.

[And, as her analysis occurred, the quiet whisper in the back of his mind wondered if this was the original color of the shark before it became a representation of his soulmate. They were together for so long Virgil didn’t even remember what it used to look like.]

No! The boy with heterochromatic eyes firmly gritted his teeth, head shaking. This was NOT the shark’s real color. Its real color was a dark, deep, enthusiastic green full of chaotic ideas and dumb jokes and sparks and grins.

He refused to let everything end in this way.

Realization fell in her face, a soft gasp coming from her open mouth. “Oh, Virgil…”

“No, no, no! You- You need to fix him!” But her eyes… “Mom, please,” the way her arms opened to involve his small, trembling form…

“Please, he is my best friend.”

[‘Was’]

She hugged him, cradling her fingers in his hair and lightly rocking Virgil and his sobs, her sweet words muffled by his cry. Then the younger one wiggled out of her touch, getting the plushie and running back to his room, the door slamming one more time.

He refused.

“No! No!!” He kicked his backpack, its content spreading across his carpeted floor. The shark was placed in his desk seconds before the Virgil focused his anger on his bed, throwing everything on the floor. His pillows hit the walls and the toys on his shelves. The cacophony of sounds made his head hurt, but he ignored this in order to kick and throw more things.

Seconds, minutes, countless pieces of time passed before he stopped, panting and with stinging eyes in the middle of the room, his only possessions left untouched was his guitar and Ra- His shark stuffed animal.

Because he loves playing guitar. Because he loves Ree.

His fingers pet its soft fur, wandering in every detail, trying to burn in his soul how alive and colored it used to be before today.

Virgil felt like crying, felt like hugging his old-representation with all his might and just spent the rest of the day like this, pleading that Ree would come back and Virgil would do better and everything could be back to normal again.

But he refused.

He refused to cry like a baby. He refused to let this happen to him. He refused to be made a fool by the Soulmate System or whatever sadistic creature that observed him right now. He refused to go through all of this again.

Ever again.

Virgil opened his closet and got up on his chair, hiding the shark on the highest shelf under a bunch of old comforts he never got to use.

They wanted him to be a Colorless? Very well, then.

[~*~]

Anger is when the dog who lives in you shows its teeth.

Sadness is a gigantic hand that squeezes your heart.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[~*~]

Hiya, Dee.

Some days are better, some are worse.

It hurts.

But, hm, good things, right? Today was sunny and refreshing, I love when this happens. A ladybug landed in my hand yesterday, it was so small… I also found another beautiful feather when I went to the park last weekend, very fluffy and a baby on the bus smiled at me after I made some funny faces.

I hope you’re also receiving and giving some beautiful smiles there. Aunt just called me for the movie night so… See you later!

I miss-

Love, Heart.

[…]

Virgil woke up sweating. A tight feeling clutching the back of his mind. However, he managed to catch himself before his eyes opened, the back of his hand pressing them, as if to make sure they wouldn’t open against his will.

Urg… Not this again…

Virgil pressed harder the pillow curling around his head, the pressure easing the irritation as he groaned in protest, wondering how much more time it would take before he finally grew used to this routine. An annoying sensation banged rhythmically on his chest, hammering together with his heart and flying along with the butterflies on his stomach over and over again until a slightly nausea almost leaded the one in pajamas to give up and just find the nearest stuffed animal so his soulmate’s bond could finally be initiated, his representation showed up and then the exhausted teen could finally get some freaking rest and then proceed to turn a blind eye to his soulmate for the rest of their lives.

Who would say that ignoring the Soulmate System would be so hard?

But, damn, even if this shit always came back at the right moment when the first ray of sunshine hit his face, usually Virgil had at least the freedom of the night to sleep!

His hand wandered clumsily, hitting the bean bag next to his bed and looking for the small device he always left there for the night. He sighs when his fingers make contact with the cold of his phone, quickly bringing it up to his face and making sure nothing else could get in his eye field. On the third try he succeeded to put the right password, ignoring the video shining on it and quickly lowering the brightness of his screen until it was almost nonexistent.

Four in the morning. What the heck was his not-for-much-longer-soulmate doing up at this hour??

Ok. It didn’t matter, Virgil murmured to himself, his words slurring, completely engulfed by the fog of sleepiness which continued to involve him. It didn’t matter because Virgil was sure he would manage to win that battle, just like he did on every other occasion since Ree. Of course, he never had a perfect receipt for this, only a group of superficial orientations as focusing on something else, tossing around the mattress until the exhaustion took over his body or doing anything that guaranteed his suborn nature to fight until the bond faded away with some hours, maybe one or two days.

However, this one was about to complete a whole week and his resolution was beginning to weaken, escaping between his fingers regardless of how much he fought to hold it with tooth and nails. The mild headache growing on him was the proof of this.

He flipped his pillow, letting its cold surface rest on his face, adjusting himself to lay starfished onto the bed.

He needed distractions.

Songs. He liked to listen to music a lot, something he would be very much inclined to do now if it wasn’t so late and his earphones were so far away. But, stopping to think about it, it was crazy how sounds work, like, even if they’re far away they manage to be heard. Pretty much like that weird sound captured by that boat who was only minding its business… The Bloop. Heh. The Bloop. Such a stupid name… He wondered if it was a Jurassic animal doing that and when humanity would be finally able to answer his question. If it is really an animal will they call him Bloop? That is a horrible name to give to something probably gigantic and scary… Bloop… Bloopers… blooo...

His muscles from his toes to the tip of his fingers began to relax, his breathing becoming more erratic as the trail of nonsense thoughts led him away from reality and straight to the cloak of Morpheus. Bit by bit he started to be unaware of his room. First the faint sound of his spider quietly scraping the sand on her terrarium, second the sensation of the pillow on his face, then the cold of his phone as it slipped away from his hand…

And, unsupervised by the teenager's eyes, his index finger hit the ‘play’ button on the video, and the blasting of Aquiles Priester’s drums filled the room in a hot shot, followed in the same second by Virgil’s hoarse scream. The confusion and sound making the one with heterochromatic eyes stumble to a sit position, blankets and pillows falling from him as his astonished movements tried to be coordinated enough to turn off his phone before his mother woke up and decided to know why and what her son was doing up at four-darn-morning.

The button was hit and the silence was faster in cover the room all over again, being only broken by Virgil’s shaken gasps, his trembling fingers laying on his adulterated heartbeats, taking large, wobbly deep breaths in order to normalize it, his attention entirely focused on hearing any hint of muffled step outside his room.

In. Hold. Out.

He was fine. Everything was fine.

This was only a scare.

In. Hold. Out.

Okay. No sound. Virgil allowed himself to fall on his bed, stretching and humming in attempts to ground him to reality, not taking too long to let the sleepiness begin to slowly crawl to his mind again, his body feeling surprisingly much lighter than it had been in days. A yawn escaped from his lips. What the hell he was doing with his cell phone anyway?

For the second time in the night his body fled to a sitting position, the sudden calm and coziness which hit his senses now having a slightly sour taste on his mouth as the teenager realized what it meant.

His soulmate bond was complete.

His gaze flew to the small pile of fabric on the floor, a glint of a sky-blue color shining amidst it. He pushed his blankets away and his breath hitched when the full form of his soulmate’s representation was shown.

Oh no. Nononono. That was-

That wasn’t normal. Nor supposed to happen. Oh shit. Shitshitshitshit. What could he do?

Virgil dropped – carefully, even if the cold on the bottom of his stomach screamed for him to run! – the object on his bed, getting across the room and right in front of his closet in a blink of an eye. The door flung open, his gaze scrambling through all his possessions in search of that specific teddy bear his mother gave him a year ago, telling it was going to help him to heal, grabbing it firmly and plopping it next to the blue fabric calmly laying on his mattress. He bit his nails while his eyes ran from an object to another, waiting for the color to somewhat jump on the plushie, where it was supposed to go in the first place.

Virgil stared inquisitively at his pillow- no, his soulmate’s representation, as if he could scare the reality into changing itself. His fingers ran through his hair, feet pacing on the floor.

Ok. His soulmate was a pillow. A literal pillow. That was not good.

Before he could fall on his parasitizing thoughts or hide the pillow and pretend nothing had happened, a badly muffled sound reached him, making his body freeze as his brain immediately recognized what it was:

Crying.

[...]

Before is a caterpillar who didn’t become a butterfly, yet.

Indecision is when you know very well what you want, but you think you should want another thing.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings

[...]

Hey, dear! Heart here again! It’s been a time, huh? I discovered a new Pet Shop nearby and a very nice old lady let me play with the puppies after school. You really should see the hamsters there! They’re the cutest, most precious soft things!!

They don’t have any snakes, sadly.

I… I hid your teddy bear and I’m getting used to not stare at the right corner of the mattress, looking for you.

I still miss your smooth thoughts, your warmth, your advice and receipts and… you.

I think I’m getting better. The sensation is starting to feel… normal.

Remember we-

I used to-

I know you won’t really read this, but I’m trying to keep taking care of myself.

Hooray?

Love, Heart.

[…]

Patton loved stuffed animals and this was a fact that anyone who got into his room for barely two seconds would realize. Small plushies of multicolored frogs rested on his shelves. A big polite giraffe sat on his desk, proudly showing off her new necktie and his older ones were in the closet, guarding his favorites clothes. His soulmates, of course, had a special treatment, receiving a seat on his bed, closer to him and within his research at any occasion, emergency or not.

And that was an emergency. Well…technically.

Maybe…

Perhaps not.

The teenager changed to a sitting position, his fingers trapping the mattress in a deadly grip, tears falling from his eyes, which was firmly focused on the moon shaped night light across his room, trying to kick out the too cold, too hot feeling the nightmare left on his skin.

His brain felt fuzzy and his thoughts were all mushed together, way too messy to properly fight against the memories of his dream replaying on his head. The sensation of pure despair still running on his veins as the monster – tall, fast, its shadow hovering over his small form – chased him and his friends. Patton still felt his throat dry after running for what seemed hours, and for when he realized they would never manage to actually escape from it. He could feel the betrayed eyes of his loved ones as he made each one of them trip, the small period when the monster got them giving him enough time to escape, the screams ringing on his ears.

He muffled his sobs, slapping his hand on his mouth and getting up, going to his closet and grabbing his panda. It was one of the fluffiest stuffed animals he had and he could use a bit of softness right now. His steps were tired and he hid his face on the plushie even before laying on his bed again, curling around the bear as if it was the core of safeness, as if it would make all the bad thoughts and feelings go away.

As if it could erase all the nightmare and convince the part of his mind which said that if it was real life, that would be exactly what he would do, that it was wrong.

It was! It was completely wrong! Patton would never, ever, betray his friends, or hurt them, or go away when they needed most! He wouldn’t. He would fight, if it was needed. He would do his best every single time to help them! To be there. He wouldn’t just run away. He couldn’t. He couldn’t be alone. He didn’t even bear that thought.

[A part of his soul struggled, firm on its position. It kept holding into a bond that directed to another soul who kept pushing him away, both refusing to change their mind.]

Bear. Patton let go of a weak, barely audible, forced giggle, squeezing the panda on his touch tighter. Panda was a bear. Heh. His tears began to calm themselves, falling slower from the corner of his eyes, a strange and sudden wave of strange, but welcomed calmness hitting him.

A sudden warm touch laid on his forehead.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Patton gasped, his wide eyes flying open to stare at the now purple plushie on his grip.

Purple. Pandas weren’t purple. He was sure this one was always white with black dots and tiny glasses on it. Definitely not purple. Not unless it was-

Oh.

Ohhh.

Oh no.

For a moment his breath was taken, adrenaline exploded across his body and his mind went blank, his face stumbling forward to press his lips on the panda’s forehead, a completely lack of words, especially when a flow of sentences began to appear running over themselves and leading to his very tired brain to struggle in order to try to grasp their meaning before another phrase came and took its place.

[His body seemed to relax, letting go of a ball of tension Patton didn’t even realize he had in the first place.]

“Fuck, sorry, that was pretty dumb. Of course you’re not fine, why else would you be crying? What I was trying to say is: Can you get better? No, wait! That sounded harsh and it’s definitely not what I meant- wanted to say. Ehh, shit. Okay. Uhh. Breath, okay? Breathing is a good thing. You have to breathe to stay alive so I think it’s already a good start. Keep breathing, please do not die. Oh god, wait, that is not a dangerous situation, is it? Are you in danger? Are you dying? Oh, fuck I can’t hear-”

A startled giggle made a run from Patton’s lips, making his new soulmate to be quiet.

“Urg, sorry.”

“No, no. I was not laughing at you!” He adjusted his grip so the only part touching the purple bear would be him holding one of his paws, realizing he forgot to stop hugging him earlier. “I am okay. I just… didn’t want to cry on you, sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t, huh, care.”

“Crazy how bonds happen nowadays.” Patton attempted a joke, feeling suddenly a bit vulnerable, internally wishing the other wouldn’t ask about the reason for his tears. “It-It’s hot today, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, with the Sun and everything.”

“Yeepp.” Patton sniffed, cleaning the tear track left on his cheeks before resting his back on the bed’s headboard, a beginning of a headache after that waterfall of emotions shining in the horizon.

“...Do you want to listen to a song? It helps me to calm down when I’m, ya know.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m already a bit better.”

“Ok, sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Maybe it was sleepiness or the excitement of having a new soulmate, but before he could think much more about it the hidden truth was slipping from his mouth, “I’m grounded. No phone for the week.”

“That sucks.” The teenager just shrugged, hoping his soulmate would understand the action by his movement.

Silence impregnated the room, spreading and filling his system, his eyelashes closing bit by bit.

“I know how to play guitar. I can… play a song for you. Onlyifyouwantofcourse.” The thought was quick, quiet and disappeared as soon as it arrived, leading Patton to almost believe he imagined it.

A good feeling bloomed in his chest, a smile flourishing on his face as he held his soulmate’s free hand, carefully squeezing them in what he hoped it showed his gratitude.

“I would love to.”

“’Kay. Uh, cool. Give me a second.”

And then a few minutes later his form was engulfed by warmth. Patton let go a sigh of relief, basically melting in the so caring touch, don't having the heart - that word gave a hurtful tug in his chest - to remember his new soulmate he couldn't really hear the accords, only the shy, calming humming rumbling on his chest and lullabying them to a peaceful sleep.

[~*~]

Feeling is the language the heart uses when it needs to send a message.

- Adriana Falcão - Meanings.

[~*~]

"How can I call you?"

Patton stopped his voice before that old nickname got out, scratching his throat. He should try to move on, right?

Baby steps.

"Pat."

"Pat?"

"Pat-Pat!"

Virgil rolled his eyes, denying the small smile which appeared on the corner of his mouth.

“You can call me V.”

[…]

“So, you’re a pillow.”

Patton blinked, a surprised snort filling the room. “V, I know I often say I’m soft but if you wanted to rest on me all you needed to do was ask!” He added some shadowing on some feathers, giving the drawing of the Bem-te-Vi more profundity. He was really happy he found that site about the birds of America.

“No, I mean literally. Like… your representation is not a stuffed animal, it’s a pillow.”

“Oooh…” He blinked a few times. “I didn’t know that still happens.”

“What do you mean with ‘still happens’? This happened to you before?”

“Not with me, but I saw a video about this! Before the plushies became famous due their shape being easier to be seen as human-like, the bond would form in anything that could be quickly dyed, just like clothes, pieces of fabric, pillows… I think if they showed it to a doctor, he would describe their condition as ‘comfortable!’” Patton shook lightly the panda’s shoulder, smiling. “Uh? Got it? Comfortable? Because they’re soft?”

“Pat, that was horrible.”

“Awww, come oon.” Patton rested his chin on V’s head, forgetting his drawing for a while. “Puns are harder than knock knock jokes! You have to wait for the perfect timing to make them.” Virgil huffed. “Not even an itsy bitsy giggle?”

“Nope.”

Silence.

“Pat?”

“No. I am pouting.”

He felt a couple of pats (ha-) on his head, the touching going away in a few seconds. “You will get there some day.” The other answered his soulmate with a raspberry, giggling a bit of his own silliness before going back to his hobby. He really was planning to finish this bird today.

“The thing is… Since you’re, ya know, a pillow. I was thinking… okay, I know that this will sound weird but… I was thinking of putting some clothes on your representation so I can… try to see you better.”

“Ah.”

“Only if you’re comfortable, sure!”

“No, no. I am! It’s just…” Patton bit his lips, lightly squeezing the shell of his ear with the hand that wasn’t holding the pencil, adjusting his body to a better sitting position. “What clothes do you have in mind? Not that I think your taste is bad or you don’t know how to choose good clothes or something like that!”

“No, it’s cool!” The thought came in the moment Patton forced himself to stop his nervous talking. “I wanted to ask you because of that, I, uh, have black t-shirts, jeans, an old grey hoodie, PJs, clothes when I was a kid, onesies, maybe I can get a dress?”

“Gasp. Do you have onesies?? Aww, I want!”

“Everyone has a onesie.” Virgil mumbled in defense, feeling his cheeks getting hot. “I have a skeleton one, a raccoon and the Toothless from How to Tra-”

“OHMYGOSH YOU HAVE TOOTHLESS!” Virgil had absolutely no idea how Pat managed to make a thought so high pitched and excited to the point the words themselves were barely understandable. “HE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS, CUTE LIL DRAGON…” and then a bunch of squeaks and mumbling took over his brain just as he has hugged and then lightly bounced before suddenly everything disappeared.

He decided it was safer to let the silence prolong itself a bit longer.

…

“Pat?”

“You might need to give me a few more minutes, kiddo.”

“You need to chill, dude.” Virgil remarked, a ray of fondness shining in his words. He gathered his onesie. It was his favorite one when he was fourteen, now it didn’t even fit on him anymore and it clearly wasn’t made to be used by a pillow, as well, but it would suffice until he thought of a better solution. “Ok. Got it, you might want to use your Blocker now.”

“Okayy, it’s somewhereeeeee...” Patton rummaged the content of his backpack, looking for the earphone-shaped object. He hadn’t the chance to buy the wireless prototype, so he struggled a few seconds to untangle the cables. “Here! So, see you in fifteen minutes?”

“Ok. If you hear or feel something just touch my arm and I will immediately stop.”

“Right!! Bye!” Patton waved, more a habit than anything else, plugging the Blocker on his ears and the cluing its ventosa behind his head, right where his cerebellum was. A few pieces of time went by before his head became partially empty, only his thoughts filling it. He put the panda away.

It was a strange feeling, to use this outside his school, nor parallel conversation of his classmates or a teacher’s voice filling the air to distract his attention for the fact that he couldn’t hear or feel his soulmates anymore. He hummed, wondering how Lo was and writing a self note on the corner of his paper that he should check on him later, ask for him to finish that story with the smart detective he was telling him on Sunday before Patton fell asleep due the other’s habit to keep petting his hair, probably a revenge for Patton’s constant need to hugging, holding or actively interacting with his serious soulmate’s representation, more often than not receiving fond-exasperate pokes in return.

He looked through the window, mind wandering as the wind hit the tree in his neighbor’s yard, messing with its leaves. It was a bit lonely to have your thoughts all to yourself…

But not entirely bad.

[…]

“Sooo, howz does it looks like?” The naturally excited voice asked. Virgil just pressed his hand firmer on his lips, his other arm hugging his middle. His gaze fell for what it felt the umpteen time in the blue dyed pillow before him, the sleeves of his onesie folded inwards in a poor attempt to cut half of its original length, the ‘legs’ were criss crossed and all of this ignoring, of course, the unnatural rectangular shape of the whole thing.

‘Like shit.’ It was his first thought, but he decided to not send it to Pat.

“Weird.”

“I am looking at my pillows right now and-” giggles, “but come ooon, it’s Toothless! There is no way it isn’t at least a bit cute!”

‘You have no neck.’ He internally panicked, looking at the few, sporadic tiny blue hearts appearing amidst the black onesie, showing the representation was getting used to the new fabric attached to it. ‘A probably-head, shoulders but no neck. It’s like a reverse freaking giraffe!’

However, Virgil decided against sharing this particular vision with the other.

“I guess. Are you… breathing well or whatever?” His tune was a mix of nonchalant and nervous, the choice of words making him wince.

“I am. Why?”

“No. Nothing. No reason.”

“Oookay.” The teenage signed at the confusion on his soulmate’s tune, why did he had to talk in the first place or be so weird making a such big deal of something stupid like that? Urg. He stared at the blue object one more time. Damn Soulmate System. Damn destiny. Damn lack of socialization skills.

…………

But, dude, really, the guy has literally no neck here, there is NO WAY he isn’t feeling nothing because of that. Pat is probably lying because he pities him after a so horrible, futile attempt of fixing what he caused. No. Wait. He can’t just assume his soulmate is lying because of his overthinking, the other part of his brain retorted. Was he overthinking? He probably was. He always did it. Or perhaps this was a correct inkling of Pat. Soulmates were supposed to do that sort of thing after some time, right? One week was enough time? What he-

“Hey!” Pat’s thought cut his own. “Sooo, now that you can ‘see’ me a bit better… hug? You can say no if you want, sure!”

Virgil blinked one, two, three times.

“Ok. But you let go when I let go, got it?”

“Sure thing, V!” Warmth bloomed in his chest when he heard his nickname, Virgil wasn’t sure why.

He embraced the representation, feeling a bit silly, the same feeling that was fast to go away as Pat hugged him as well, firm but careful. The sensation overwhelmed his senses, but in a good way, leading the one who loved guitars and got a strange hyper fixation on drums to let go a sigh, body relaxing.

He patted Pat’s back two times before finishing the touch. “There you go.”

“Thanks! Sooo, see you later.”

“Sure thing.” He agreed, wanting nothing more than a good hot bath after so many feelings in such a small period of time.

“uwu”

“How the fu-”

“NO SWEARING!”

“-did you do that?”

Virgil snorted, the warmth still spreading on his chest and maybe - only maybe, - having a new soulmate wasn’t an entire bad thing.

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ffamranxii · 3 years ago

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Sailor Stars thoughts:

1. The anime does its absolute best to make the Starlights unlikable. Taiki is a fucking asshole (he won’t even give a dying girl, who he explicitly was taken to visit, an autograph, and tells a bunch of children that their grandfather’s theory about souls becoming stars is dead wrong), Seiya is a Nice Guy who hits on Usagi constantly despite being told multiple times she has a boyfriend, and Yaten is a mildly sarcastic cardboard cutout. I know the manga doesn’t expand on them much but the anime is supposed to help make these people real. Counterexample is Chibi-Chibi, who hardly speaks in the manga and relies on her cuteness alone to be likable. They gave her a very cute voice because it was literally all they had to work with, given how often Chibi-Chibi actually appears

2. The dub cast for the Starlights is frankly awful. As civilians, Taiki alternates between a woman trying too hard to make her voice deep and having a bad cold, Seiya sounds like a prepubescent boy, and Yaten sounds like a woman (which they’re not, as civilians); as Starlights their voices are VERY high pitched, especially Yaten’s. Their sub voices just sound like woman talking a bit deeply and then normal women.

3. Why the FUCK did Toei think literally changing sex was less controversial than crossdressing? The Starlights are women and have always been women. Plus, them being male civilians in the anime creates a paradox, because if they’re men with sailor crystals who can become senshi, why can’t Mamoru - who is confirmed multiple times throughout the series as carrying the earth’s star seed and thus being Sailor Earth - do the same? Naoko said Mamoru can’t be a sailor senshi because he’s a man, but the Starlights don’t abide by this rule, they change their fucking biological sex

4. Why is absolutely no one concerned that Chibi-Chibi, a THREE YEAR OLD, just goes off on her own and has her own little adventures? She wanders into some strange old man’s house and they’re all “oh that’s just Chibi-Chibi,” and no one is worried that a literal stranger invites a three year old into his house where he gives her toys and candy? The 90s were WILD, man

5. Why does Chibi-Chibi, again who is THREE YEARS OLD, have a thigh gap?

6. This one’s on Naoko because it’s like this in the manga, but the anime is supposed to expand on the universe so I blame them too: Why does literally nobody question Chibi-Chibi’s motives? Some strange pink haired child who fucking falls out of the sky one day up and brainwashes Usagi’s mom into thinking she’s her second daughter, and nobody bats an eye at this? That’s sus as fuck and literally the only question anyone has is “is she your kid or Chibiusa’s?” She doesn’t even have a NAME, “chibi” is just a random word she says!

7. I am DIGGING the mobster feel of the Animamates’ civilian forms. Especially Iron Mouse and Tin Nyanko, who clearly launder money through a shady car dealership.

8. The Starlights’ only redeeming qualities are their snazzy entrance music and Seiya’s red suit

9. Why is Aluminum Siren the only Animamate who understands that a senshi has a pure star seeds? Like, y’all killed the senshi of your home planets to take their star seeds so YOU could be senshi (which is presumably why Galaxia wants more seeds, to make more Animamates with them), shouldn’t you know that?

10. Aluminum Siren/Lead Crow are trying their damn hardest to give Harumichi a run for their money in the quest to become the Best Space Lesbians.

11. So the Moon Kingdom fosters loyalty through child soldiers. I’m assuming Queen Serenity has her own senshi in the form of our senshi’s mothers, etc. (Which begs the question of if the Asteroid Senshi are supposed to be the future kids of our senshi or if they too are child soldiers from the asteroids they’re named after.) Kinmoku seems to foster loyalty by having the Kakyuu’s senshi fall in unrequited love with her. (In the manga it’s stated Kakyuu has a husband who died when their planet was destroyed.) I mean, whatever works, right?

12. I LOVE Tin Nyanko’s dub voice. She’s only around Usagi’s age and she sounds it

13. The dub actress for Lead Crow seems like she’s half assing it. Her voice doesn’t raise properly when she yells, she never sounds really angry, and it’s just so odd. I find a lot of dub voices do this, while the original Japanese VAs will scream their lungs out into the mic

14. On the reverse, Galaxia’s voice actress is a badass. She’s supposed to have a deep menacing voice but I like the one they gave her in the dub. She’s quiet, and sounds almost kind, and that’s a fucking TERRIFYING sort of villain we don’t see a lot of. Even when she’s pissed she doesn’t raise her voice.

15. Why are Lead Crow and Tim Nyanko the same height? Lead Crow is like 5’10 and Tin Nyanko is 4’11 like Sailor Moon

16. As an aside, Tin Nyanko and Lead Crow don’t like each other, which reminds me of the cats vs crows trash can showdown in Haikyuu lol

17. Haruka’s hate boner for Seiya gives me life

18. FINALLY someone calls the Starlights out on being assholes but it’s only after Makoto sees them harassing a THREE YEAR OLD (Chibi-Chibi). Literally everyone BUT Usagi thinks they’re assholes. “They sing such beautiful songs!” Bro. You can sing pretty and still be a fucking dick.

19. Lead Crow goes after Sailor Moon only after reading Siren’s notebook. Ditzy SIREN is the smartest Animamate, lord help them

20. Kakyuu’s dub voice is SO GOOD. She’s my favorite minor character, I’m still bitter they didn’t show Sailor Kakyuu

21. Seiya’s crush on Usagi was so awkwardly shoehorned in. I hate it. Jesus fucking Christ Usagi is sobbing in the goddamn rain about how much she misses Mamoru and Seiya is STILL coming onto her.

22. It is literally so fucking funny to me that Mamoru spends all of Stars fucking dead. He’s just a perpetual damsel in distress.

23. Rei literally lectures Usagi about leading Seiya on and how “you need to do the right thing and tell him you already have someone,” AS IF USAGI HASN’T BEEN DOING THAT AT EVERY AVAILABLE OPPORTUNITY. THE FIRST TIME THEY MET SHE SAID SHE HAD A BOYFRIEND, SHE’S TOLD SEIYA OVER AND OVER THAT SHE ISN’T INTERESTED IN HIM, THAT SHE’S GOT A BOYFRIEND, THAT SHE LOVES HER BOYFRIEND. The fucking MISOGYNY here, like it’s Usagi leading Seiya on instead of Seiya being a fucking Nice Guy who can’t take no for a goddamn answer. Shut the fuck up, Rei.

24. Pretty sure under Kakyuu’s headdress is a pair of odango

25. The fact that Iron Mouse and Aluminum Siren both die when their bracelets are removed yet Tin Nyanko doesn’t implies that Tin Nyanko was the original Sailor Mau. Mouse and Siren dying implies that forcing senshi powers on a civilian is dangerous and that Galaxia’s bracelets are the only thing keeping them alive (albeit brainwashed). Yet Tin Nyanko seems to revert to “good” when one of her bracelets is destroyed. Galaxia has to intervene and kill her personally. Tin Nyanko may have offered her senshi powers to spare Mau (this applies only in the anime; in the manga she’s explicitly said to have killed Sailor Mau)

26. Oooh Galaxia’s angry voice is so commanding and sexy

27. Don’t gimme that “we love Usagi but we love you Starlights just as much.” No you fucking don’t. The whole death scene in the anime is just so... ugh. Bad.

28. The Outers fighting Galaxia is hilarious. They’re supposed to be stronger than the Inners yet Galaxia never even has to get out of her chair to kick their asses. The writers were trying real hard to make us fear the worst and back the senshi into a corner but literally they’ve made this an impossible battle to win that only becomes winnable due to plot armor.

29. Rewatching Stars and classic after Eternal and Crystal makes me miss the battle damage the fuku took. The new series always has them looking pristine, but in classic they actually get roughed up and battle scarred. It makes it more real.

30. Aww how come Uranus and Neptune got to keep their names when they joined Galaxia? I wanna know what whack ass Animamate name they would’ve gotten. (Also Galaxia literally just sent them out like Pokémon, wtf)

31. I feel like Saturn dying shouldn’t be possible since she’s literally a senshi of death but... whatever, go off I guess.

32. So.... Uranus and Neptune joining Galaxia to try and take her star seed is a cool idea that absolutely did not happen in the manga, and needed more than half an episode of development. Would’ve been a cool plot if it wasn’t so rushed.

33. So much of this season was rushed so they could tie the series up at a beat 200 episodes. If they really didn’t want to go over 200, they should’ve cut the Nehelennia arc (which isn’t in the manga anyway) and and focused on developing the Animamates, this sweet Harumichi betrayal plot, and explaining Chibi-Chibi??? Her existence makes no sense without Sailor Cosmos, and they just... didn’t include her??? Wtf

#sailor moon #ffamran watches anime

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she-who-the-river-could-not-hold · 3 years ago

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#100daysofwriting | day 50 (+ a few others...)

a daily writing challenge created by @the-wip-project // tagging my fellow writers joining in: @thelittlefanpire, @hopskipaway, @kinetic-elaboration, @easilydistractedbyfanfic

Well that was a long and somewhat intentional and unintentional break from this! I first took a break because of just being busy, and then I thought I’d just try to focus on writing by itself. But in reality it’s not like this detracts from that time + exercises for any sort of endeavor is always a good idea! So I’ll just gather up a few of the past ones plus today’s just to get back into it. And what better day than the halfway mark!

How do you start a new story?

Usually a single image of a scene or vibe comes to mind. And then I have to build out from there. So I’ll have a general notes document where I just sort of dump the imagery that’s stuck in my head and then spiderweb my way out of it by figuring out the details.

What's an old idea that you’ve discarded?

My graveyard of ideas is pretty small in terms of actual ideas I’ve discarded. Most of them just hover on the outskirts as “hey one day, probably never, I’d like to write this.” Truly discarded ideas though are two from when I was writing Stranger Things fanfic. They’re my only two abandoned fics where I don’t have any intention of finding ways to make them work (either in the ST realm or any other fandom).

First one was a 1950s asylum inspired AU where El was in an asylum, Will gets kidnapped to be experimented on, and the others find ways to sneak in. Sort of a Sucker Punch inspired story and vibe for it.

Second one was a Lumax!X-Files AU. I wrote the first chapter, was halfway through the second, and then lost the files when my harddrive failed. I immediately lost all desire to rework it and dive back into the accidentally convoluted plot and ended up abandoning it.

How often do you switch WIPs and do you think that’s a good thing to do?

I’m personally always jumping from story to story. I have a really hard time focusing in general, especially for long periods of time, so the idea of singularly focusing on only one story feels overwhelming for me. Usually I’m only able to do that when I can feel the finish line coming up for it and then I can just go all in. But in general, when stories are in the beginning or middle stages, I just allow myself to flow with the inspiration. It often makes me feel like my writing is better (unconfirmed) than when I overly force something to happen.

I think this is something ultimately only people can decide for themselves. Sure, I don’t immediately just turn out a whole piece of work. But usually it all sort of comes cascading out at once since I write a bunch at the same time. And while I’m going to work on my writing ahead goal, that’s more about my patience with posting right away, not jumping from story to story so I probably won’t be changing anytime soon. It’s just not compatible with my brain and I always have to remind myself that this is a hobby for me, nothing more. If I overstress that I can only work on one at a time, it’s going to become too much for me and defeat the purpose.

Share a cool phrase from a WIP.

She closed her eyes as her mind conjured up the smell of death around her, the sound of choking screams and the way the ground had shaken beneath her boots. The wide-eyed stare of a young woman in the clutches of death, her mouth gaping open and threatening to swallow Clarke whole–– ––her eyes snapped back open again.

What fic/story made you?

Probably my Lumax!zombies AU that I wrote. I was so struck by this one idea in my head that I cranked out this story really quickly and even wrote a spinoff of it told from Mileven’s POV. I was so stunned by the reaction I got from it, the way people were really into it and reacting to it, was a startling feeling. I’d always loved creating stories as a kid, both through toys or writing on my dad’s computer, but sharing it had never really been a thing until fanfiction. Even in my creative writing classes, I knew it wasn’t really entirely my thing in the way it was for others. But I saw people respond so positively to a story that was both fanfiction but also my own, and I was like well shit. Maybe I have some more cool ideas in me.

Fic(s) Worked On:

Bellarke, Tarzan AU: the deadline is coming up soon for this fic so I’ve made a lot of progress on that during my offtime from these updates! I’ve hit a slight wall inspirationally with it but I think I’ll be okay to get it done. Can’t let perfection get in the way of progress ya know?

Bellarke, Modern AU: I haven’t written about this one yet and then out of nowhere yesterday I was inspired to work some on it. I made a very rudimentary outline of the structure for it (it’s going to be styled in a series of vignettes) and then started free-writing it. Going back to present-tense writing for the first time in a while, something about that just feels right for it. It’s very Lana Del Rey vibes inspired mixed with two messy people living in a city like New York

Bellarke, Sci-fi/Hanahaki AU: very unintentionally made a lot of progress on this first chapter! Something about the intricacies of this story makes me want to try to make this one that I write all at once before posting. I think my others are fine just being extensively outlined, but this one I really want to push to see if I can write it all in one go. I also am really excited to get back into writing sci-fi again!

#oops very long post #kathryn writes: 100daysofwriting #100daysofwriting

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junejalow · 4 years ago

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“You have a daughter!?” Kali/Smoke

Bringing this over from my Archiveofourown prompt requests! Hope you enjoy! This prompt/dabble is for thelordchanka with the prompt "You have a daughter?"

The base was buzzing with work, recruit's heading out for last minute flights since they weren't needed for the upcoming cross training session and missions Harry had lined up. Most of them would require select operators, one's who wouldn't be able to leave for the holidays. Upon a collective request among the select few, three hours of negotiating (mainly whining and complaining) Harry finally relented on his restriction of having civilians on base. Although he was still reluctant about the entire choice all together, he had very strict rules. 1) No pranks. 2) Armory stays locked. 3) Kids/teenagers must stay with parent(s) at all time. 4) Common room and training/simulation room may be used as forms of entertainment. The last rule strictly applied as long as the kids remember that everything they see must stay a secret, he could trust the operators to reinforce this. After all, Rainbow didn't technically exist. A ghost in the shadow of every military unit on earth. They handled situations and missions no one will ever know about and the few that were public? Covered as special ops or joint missions. Everyone in Rainbow were all highly trained soldiers hand picked from even the best operators. They never disappointed Harry while on the job, but more humane moments like now? Well, it was just a simple reminder that they were still human behind their harden military mind sets.

Kali was still trying to process the information she just heard from the table behind her, Smoke had a daughter? The crazed chemist actually had family, much less a child. How in the world did someone like him maintain a lasting relationship enough to reproduce. Ignoring Ace's conversation with Wamai, she focused back on the SAS group behind them.

"She didn't like the idea of taking Christmas break but I'm pretty sur she'll love being here, I'm always telling her about everyone here. Despite her studies, Charlie does love hearing them. Surprise right?" Smoke mused as he fiddled with a picture he kept in his wallet, staring at it fondly. He had rarely spoke to anyone outside the SAS about his adoptive daughter, she was in her last year of high school and scoring straight A's and would graduate with honors. Charlie was the embodiment of everything Smoke couldn't be when he was growing up and so much more. He loved seeing her view of the world and everything she was learning, she had taught him a lot about life that he would never have thought of looking at in a thousand years. She was his connection to being human, a safe haven away from his crazy job.

"You're acting like we haven't mess the lass before." Sledge replied after swallowing a spoon full of mash potato's. They had met her once before when Smoke had to go check on his apartment a few miles away following a series of break in's. She acted nothing like the chemist aside from sharing his twisted sense of humor. Charlie basically kept him out of trouble when he had leave time from work.

"Yeah but she hasn't met the rest of this lot, wonder what she'll think."

"You worry too much." Mute mumbled beside him, a neutral frown on his face over the fact that Thatcher had taken his phone minutes earlier so the young operator would eat instead of burying his face in the device. More than once he had complained later in the day of being hungry because he missed dinner or breakfast for that same reason. Thatcher of course scolded him every time but taking his phone was a last ditch effort to get the man to eat properly. He didn't need the defender light headed during training from lack of food.

"I'm not worrying too much! I just don't trust most of these barmy bastards not to try something stupid when everyone shows up. Bandit hundred percent I don't trust, he'll twist her beautiful little mind into something terrible."

"Yet you're just as bad, ever think about that or has Doc's scolding taught you nothing?" Thatcher piped in from his spot across the table.

"All he's bloody taught me is how much I can get away with before I have to hide." Smoke chuckled, putting the picture of his daughter back in his wallet.

Kali made a mental note to ask him later about the entire conversation, she was on good enough grounds with the defender that they could have a decent and friendly conversation when they crossed paths. Soon enough the cafeteria slowly became devoid of noise. Most of the operator's were calling home to invite whoever could make it or simply wishing their family and friends happy holidays. Kali on the other hand decided to hit the training room for awhile, not surprised to see a few operators spread out doing their own training. She listened in on different conversations as she bedded down to work on her sniper aim. Nothing caught her interest though, most of the banter was work related or Christmas gift ideas. She had learned from Mira that most of the operators exchanged gifts as a way of team building, an idea Harry had implemented soon after his employment as the new director.

She had to give the man some credit, he surely knew how to bring a team together. Most of his tactic's were questionable at best but even she could the good intent behind each choice, he was even able to pull Doc and Lion to even ground and now the two seemed like friends all over again despite the random bickering they still did with Montague or Castle playing peace keeper as usual. Some small part of her felt bad for them, they were all adults but some parts of them still shined like children fighting over a toy. It was a vast difference from the attention to detail they all showed in the field though, she had heard Jackal mention it was like flipping switches off and on in their minds. Essentially they were all two sides of the same coin, one side a passive civilian living day to day while the other side was a ruthless soldier who wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger on someone wishing to cause harm.

Personally she never really understood where she placed in that category but as long as the job was done who cared? She has taken out countless dangerious men and women alike. She seriously wouldn't have her life any other way. She sighed after spending the rubber bullets she acquired from the training gun rack and headed back to the main building, she noticed Smoke hanging around the common room and remembered the conversations from earlier, deciding now was a good time as any.

"Porter, mind a chat?" She asked as she approached the man relaxing against the bar across, tending to a half drank beer, the room from the tv that was currently playing some nature documentary. Dark chocolate brown eyes met her hazel eyes, a question playing across them before he motioned to the seat next to him.

"I can fancy a talk, what's on your mind Kali?"

"You have a daughter?"

Smoke nearly choked on his beer at the straight forward question, he shouldn't expect less from her but at the same time he didn't think anyone had been listening in. Each table/group always stuck to their own conversations and rarely asked or interrupted anyone on theirs.

"I didn't think you were bloody listening in! I could barely hear my own thoughts over Ace's loud mouth." A small smile tugged at her lips, Ace could very well be loud and self centered at times but he was a man that truly cared about other's safety above his own, rushing headlong into the worst of a situation just to make sure no one needed having. A natural thrill and need to protect and serve.

She still owed him greatly for saving her that one time. "I happened to catch a small snippet. So I grew carious. Never heard you talk so fondly over something other than those canisters of yours."

Smoke rubbed at the scar at the base of his hair line, no one at base had ever dared to ask him about it. Hell they all had their fair share of scar's, physically, mentally and emotionally. He simply waved the question off all the time and gave the same short handed reply. It was work related. Of course a lot of the operators around base never bought into it but out of respect for privacy no one ever pushed the subject.

"She's not... blood. I adopted her years ago before I got invited to Rainbow. Never saw myself being with anyone but I've always wanted a kid, someone that could show me the world in a different view right? Charlie's done just that. She's excelling in school, straight A's and honor's. Nothing like her old man." He chuckled softly before taking a swing of his beer, pausing for a moment before continuing. "Charlie she... see's everything so bloody different than I do. I've forgotten what a civilian's view on life is, I don't see everything the same as when I was a kid. I was too busy exploring, a free spirit I was. That kid on the other hand, smart head on her shoulders. Been teaching me a lot over the last few years I didn't even know were things. Like all these new math and science categories she's studying, blew my mind at first. Seems like they expect them to know college level stuff before they even graduate. But what about you Kali? Got any family? Husband? Wife? Siblings? Kids?"

Kali slowly took in every ounce of information the man offered, she never really considered Smoke an open guy but at the same time there were rare moments each person just needed an outlet. She figured this was one of those moments. He was going to expose someone he held close to his dangerious line of work, granted she wasn't going to be in harms way by any means and neither would the other kids. A bigger smile graced her features, her hazel eyes settling on the tv across the room.

"No, nothing of the sort. I'm married to my work as most people say. I don't have time for any relationships, to me it's a burden I don't need."

Smoke scoffed and sat up a bit straighter in his seat, "You're missing out then Shah, Charlie's the best thing that ever happened to me." He told her with a warm grin, "Give it some thought, might change your mind after you meet her."

The next few days flowed by quick, families arriving as they could. Most of them were settled in spare rooms while most operators didn't mind sharing dorms with their families. Currently the cafeteria was buzzing with chatter and stories being tossed around while a few decorated the base for Christmas, of course the chaos worsened over a snide comment Bandit made to Smoke. Before the man could retort it, Charlie already had him by the ear and was basically dragging the full grown man away from the fight all the while scolding him.

"You promised me you wouldn't fight with uncle Dom while I was here and you almost did it anyway! I seriously can't leave you alone for one second!" Charlie argued.

"I'm sorry! I promise for real this time! I won't bloody do it again I swear!" Porter tried to protest.

"Fat chance dad!"

Kali chuckled quietly to herself because Wamai who had his hands clasped behind his back, "Rethinking what Porter said about family?"

"As far as I'm concerned Wamai? this is my family."

#rainbow six siege #fanficion #Smoke #Kali #Wamai #Mute #Thatcher #Sledge #Ace #Request

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insomniac-dot-ink · 5 years ago

Text

Never Alone

The yard sale spread out like a little girl shook her dollhouse and the contents sprawled into messy piles across the grass. There was a box of second-hand shoes that you had to find the mate for yourself and rickety card tables with rusting legs holding knick-knacks ranging from toy trains with gunk in the wheels to stained cloth napkins the color of one of the seven deadly sins.

Two neighborhood houses on Chestnut Hill had decided to get together and sell the insides of their attics to the unsuspecting masses. I wrinkled my nose at an old toy chest with a yellow finish and long scrapes across the top.

I glanced over to where a tall brunette was inspecting a plastic tea-cup with flower designs on the side. “How long do you want to be Ollie?” I asked sourly as the sun licked over my brow. It was barely even eleven and I could already feel the heat of the day sinking its teeth in.

Olivia barely looked up as I addressed her, she was in “shopping mode” which was a space I couldn’t personally penetrate with either manners or an industrial-sized hammer. “A couple minutes. Ten tops.” She lied and I wrinkled my nose.

I shook my hair back in irritation, “you promised you’d try that new brunch place with me.” I stuck my bottom lip out, “Derick and I were gonna do it… but you know.” Olivia looked up long enough to flash me a sympathetic look and held up two fingers, “just a couple of minutes.” She gave a long pause and tried to wave me off, “Go find something you like. It’s a big sale there’ll probably be something.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to the messy zig-zags of junk. “Ugh.” I walked away with my shoulders hunched.

Olivia Henderson was my roommate and best friend and had a thing for yard sales, second hand stores, people’s closets, junk piles, and anything that smelled a little funky from the lost and found. Her tastes were as inexplicable as the fact she worked in banking. She collected shoddy 18th century reprints and people’s old key chains with anime characters on them and weird bomber jackets covered in patches.

To say the least, she was going to be awhile.

I rounded an burnt ironing board and watched an old couple inspect a bright green bike parked up against a table. I glanced down at my phone and saw a healthy number of notifications which I immediately flicked away out of habit.

The old couple laughed at something as the owners of the house rounded on them and asked something probably included lines like “lovely couple” and “this will be perfect for you…” I rolled my eyes and went around a box with old roller blades and worn jackets for sale inside.

I checked my phone again and there was a new text.

Mariene: I heard about you and Derick :(

Mariene: Want to talk about it? :)

I shook my head like there was something I was trying to dislodge and jammed my phone in my back pocket. The sun simmered above and I kicked a box of board games lightly before weaving back and forth toward the back of the house.

It was a two-story carbon-copy kind of house that was painted grey and felt grey and oozed that bland grey choke hold sensation of suburbia. The houses around it were beige and cream and off-white and had families in them that were working on holding down decent jobs, having 2.5 kids, and then dying. The whole thing made my stomach churn.

I eyed an old rocking chair that at least looked reupholstered recently and heard the last of the old couples voices: our grandson just turned eight…

Their grandson just turned eight. I felt my phone buzz from my back pocket and glanced over my shoulder to check that Olivia was still collecting slightly bent silver forks and drapes with bowling alley designs.

I was ready to leave. I was ready to get brunch and bitch about Derick and Serina and the fact they were now “Derick and Serina.” How the last thing he said was “I love you,” before cheating on me. I took another meandering step toward the house when my eyes landed on a doorway. There was a series of concrete steps laid into the ground itself, tucked away right behind some bushes and at the back of the house.

I eyed it for a second. The door itself was brown and faceless and the only thing interesting about it was that it was open. I cocked my head to the side as a little basement entrance was fully exposed. It reminded me of a scab begging to be itched.

I looked one more time over my shoulder to check that the owners were still talking to the old couple and Olivia was still in love with her oddities. I skipped down the garden level steps toward the door.

Snooping and boredom usually went hand in hand and I justified it in the back of my head with a quick “maybe they have better junk they’re selling down here.”

A few steps down and the light seemed to shift above my head. It became honeyed and slightly cloudy-- like looking through colored glass. The voices of the yard became more distant and I poked my head inside a very cramped looking room.

It was a finished basement that unlike my parents house wasn’t just concrete floors and water damage. I stood up straight as a blast of AC hit me in the face and I took a few more steps into the room to feel that sweet cold air across my skin.

It seemed to be another storage room which was impressive since they already seemed to have an entire universe of junk on their lawn outside. There were brown boxes stacked high and a wooden dresser alongside a big classic baby crib with wooden bars. The cool air inside the room was heavenly, but there seemed to be a sheen of dust through it. The late summer light streamed down through floating bits of something and my nose began to tickle.

I glanced around the boxes and curiously made my way to the baby crib because I hadn’t seen one like that outside of movies and museums. It looked like it was made of real wood and whittled by hand with a certain amount of care.

My parents had bought plastic industrial-made cribs and quickly got rid of them the second me and my sister were old enough for bunk beds. They weren’t the type of couple to hold onto sentimental keepsakes or make anything by hand.

I delicately touched the railing of the crib and it was warm and the wood was soft like smoothed stones you find near lakes. My eyes glazed over for a moment and some part of me wanted to take the crib home with me. It was handsome and strong and I didn’t own a lot of things with history behind them.

I shook the thought out of my head after a moment because I never planned on having kids. I never wanted to live in a beige neighborhood where people settled for their jobs and settled for each other and settled for raising bratty kids they didn’t even want. Kids that in turn grew up to settle for shitty governments and shitty societal systems and stop dreaming and start focusing on collecting piles of junk and dying on top of them.

I turned around quickly as if to bundle myself up and run away from the whole vision of it. I pivoted and stumbled into a vanity that I hadn’t noticed was right beside the crib. I hit it hard with my whole body. “Oof!” I yelped.

It was a big solid vanity with four drawers and spindly legs and a round clear mirror in the very center of the wooden body. It looked like the same wood as the crib. I had a moment to catch my own panicked eyes in the mirror before the thing teetered backyard.

“No!” I reached to stop it from thundering backward, but it happened quickly. The vanity toppled backward and crushed two small boxes behind it that sent up an entire storm of dust into the air.

I sneezed rapid-fire as the dust exploded and my head rocked back and forth.

“What’s going on?” A sharp voice barked and someone was at the side door. “What are you doing in here?!” I sneezed again and turned around to find one of the owners-- the woman in a pink cardigan, staring daggers at me. Her mouth went round in perfect horror as she saw the vanity toppled backward and me standing in the very center of the dust plumes.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, “I didn’t mean to, but it’s not broken or anything, promise.” I said before sneezing again and wiping at my nose.

“Get out!” Her voice was strained and barely a pitch below hysterical. “Get out of here!”

My brow furrowed and I plodded back toward the door, “It was open--” She pushed me physically from the room and into the stairwell, “you fool.” She spat, “don’t ever come back here and pray to God it didn’t--” She paused, “just pray.” “What?” I backed away from her. “Anika?” Olivia poked her head around the corner as the light beat me over my head. Olivia eyed the owner looking like a bull with red paint in front of her, “Uh?” “We gotta go.” I said flatly. Personally, I thought the woman was overreacting since nothing was actually harmed.

The owner turned to me. “Leave.” I didn’t need to be told twice. I hurried up the stairs and grabbed Olivia’s wrist, “Come on.” I tugged on her.

“Wait, I found this weird map I want to buy.” “I think we just sorta got banned.” I clarified and tried not to wince. I reminded myself it wasn’t my fault the woman completely lost it.

“What?!”

“I’ll make it up to you.” I said quickly, “lunch is on me.”

I glanced over my shoulder and the last thing I saw was the woman hurriedly locking the door with a huge old-fashioned key and muttering to herself. Something cold dropped into the pit of my stomach and I ignored it.

------------

“I can’t believe you guys are going out without me.” I pouted as I watched my roommates finish gathering their bags and checking their makeup and phones for updates on their Uber.

I lived with three roommates because it was New York City and I wasn’t a billionaire. Olivia was a strange artsy girl who worked in accounting, Carmen was an outgoing career girl with a type-A personality, and Molly was a soft, quiet girl who was getting her PhD in something useless. They were all my type of people, but it didn’t help when they all just stared blankly at me as I moped on the green armchair by our windows.

Carmen puckered her lips, “Hey, we told you to come with us.” She said with an arched eyebrow, “it’ll help get over your bastard ex.” I gave a dramatic sigh, “I’m not ready for a rebound guy yet.” I said tersely and shifted in place. “And I’ve got a headache.” I lied mostly for the effect.

Molly shot me a sympathetic look. “We don’t have to talk to boys--” “Speak for yourself.” Olivia joked.

“It’s our girls night. We've been planning it for weeks now.” Molly simpered.

I stuck my chin out stubbornly. “Can’t we just stay home and watch TV? I have a breakup ritual to get through.”

Carmen clicked her tongue, “I bet Derick would be so jealous if he saw you already hot and ready to trot right now.” I made a face at them. “I don’t want to make him jealous. I don’t care about that cheating asshole anymore,” I lied again and turned away, “but you guys have fun.” I knew I was mostly refusing out of spite, didn’t they care that I was going through something right now? It didn’t matter either way though as Carmen cheered, “Our Uber’s here! Come on ladies.” “Be good, Anika,” Olivia waved, “don’t get banned from anything else while we’re gone.” She said with a twinkle in her eye and a reference to our outing that morning.

I flipped her off, “Go enjoy getting yourself gonorrhea in a club bathroom.” “We will.” And just like that they were out the door and to their “girls night” without a care in the world.

I groaned and hung my head back. I heard my phone buzz probably with yet another text from my sister. She never got the hint when I didn’t want to talk to her or listen to another one of her lectures beginning with “start growing up already, Anika, you’re almost thirty.”

I closed my eyes and wanted something to scream into.

The apartment was a clean space with dark carpets and low ceilings. It was decorated by Olivia with misshapen nautical lamps in the corners and heavy curtains that Carmen put up so she could Skype with her international colleagues early in the morning.

I stared at the ceiling as I listened to my roommates reach the elevator and the doors dinged. I frowned as the noise faded and something else took its place. It was a faint sound.

I perked up and looked over to the apartment hallway. It was almost so distant I couldn’t make it out, but there was unmistakable shuffling coming from the narrow space. “Hello?” I said and narrowed my eyes.

More sounds of scuffing came from the soft carpets. I stood up. Some animal-instinct sent off alarms in my head and I peered around the corner. I swept my eyes across the closed doors and a dying houseplant by the bathroom.

I looked to the ceiling to check if maybe rats were in the vents, but I heard the noise again: pat pat pat.

I looked right in front of me where the sound was coming from. Nothing was there.

Pat, pat, pat

I looked down. There were two dark indents in the carpet that seemed to be moving. I backed up until I reached the opposite wall.

Pat, pat, pat

Something was padding across the floor in front of me, slowly and deliberately. But I couldn’t see anything there.

Some sort of dread settled in my stomach that I couldn’t place, cold and hard and tying knots in my guts. I stared for another moment at empty space, and then ran for the door. I shoved my feet into my shoes, looked at my phone, and then booked it into the hall and down to the stairwell.

“Hey!” I waved as my friends were nearing a blue Mazda. “I changed my mind. I want to come.” I didn’t think I was actually that torn up about Derick, but the mind is a terrible thing, and I didn’t need it playing tricks on me all by myself in my apartment.

--------

My fingers clacked on the keyboard with a certain satisfying fury. The deadline was the day after tomorrow, but that meant it was even more important to get most of the leg work out of the way that night.

The shine of the fluorescent lights was almost feverish and angry above me and my right wrist ached from typing. It was past midnight by then and it was only me and a lowly intern finishing up work for the night. The building was always “on” in the way that the city itself was always “on,” but I had an article on current campaign finance reform failures that I needed to finish.

It was almost 1am by the time I blinked and Kenny the intern was turning off his desk lamp. I looked up and he looked right back at me. “Um,” he was a sweaty kind of kid with a round face and freckles that popped like pock marks on his cheeks. “Did you, uh, want that on?” He asked nervously as he pointed to his desk lamp for some reason.

I shook my head, “I’m basically done.” I looked at my article. It would need a lot of cleanup tomorrow morning before it went to the presses the next day, “I’ll be right behind you.” I let Kenny get to the elevator first and head downstairs so we wouldn’t have to share any awkward small talk when all we really wanted to do was head home. I was revising the last paragraph-- the one with the real “punch” to it when I heard something.

I looked up just as a soft shuffling sound came from across the room. My neck prickled and I closed my laptop.

Pat, pat, pat.

It had a slow pace and strange rhythm to it, but I was certain this time that it was footsteps. I hunched over, finished closing my bag up, and stood.

Pat, pat, pat

It sounded a little quicker this time, but still slow and steady. I jogged to the elevator and was grateful that it didn’t seem able to run itself. I clenched my jaw and looked over my shoulder. Nothing was there again, and some rational part of me felt ridiculous.

I glared, “I know you’re there.” Pat, pat, pat

It was getting closer now. Closer than it was before.

I bared my teeth, “I don’t know what you want--”

Ding

The elevator arrived and I threw a withering look over my shoulder. “But you’re not going to fucking scare me. Go away.” Pat, pat

It was almost right in front of me now. I darted quickly into the elevator and pushed the button a dozen times to get the doors to close faster. I exhaled when they finally gently clanked shut just as the steps arrived right where I had just been.

I was massaging my neck and thinking about going to shrink when I heard the creature really arrive at the door.

Sccrrrtchhh

I sucked in a quick breath and that same cold dread shook through my nerves. The elevator started descending to the street level, but all I could hear was that same sound over and over again: sccrrtchhh

It sounded like claws on metal.

I spent the whole walk home looking over my shoulder and listening for invisible things and slow footsteps. I waited for its claws to finally arrive and slit my throat. However, nothing seemed to pursue me in the crowded streets or the subway.

It was probably all in my head. Or it was just trying to scare me a little and would go away-- maybe it enjoyed the hunt and not the kill. But something told me that wasn’t the case.

---------------

“So,” I said and a long drawn-out silence passed between us over the phone. “How’s Josh? How’re the kids?” I asked casually and waited for the other shoe to drop.

My sister cleared her throat on the other end of the line, “He’s fine. They’re fine.” She sounded prim and measured as always, “You’re the one we’ve been worried about.” I scowled off into nothing as I sat in a large park with pigeons pecking at the ground nearby. The weather had been turning and the sky was readying itself for the first snow, “Why?” I said without meaning to.

“Because of Derick. You guys had been dating for ages,” she said slowly, “Plus… you know.” “What?” “You only call when you need something.” She said with both a hint of humor as well as accusation in her tone.

“Well it’s not about Derick.” I grumbled, “I was actually calling about…” I drew a deep steadying breath. “I’ve just been straining myself at work a little too much.” I stared at the ground with a hard look. “And maybe gotten a little over stressed.” “Oh?” Mariene waited.

“So,” I forced the words out. “I know you got a good doctor after Liam was born.”

“You mean a therapist?” She said and it sounded triumphant. “Because he handles mostly postpartum depression, but I could find you someone really good. What do you think the problem is?” “There’s no problem.” I said quickly between clenched teeth, “I just need a better way to unwind or someone to… I don’t know. A second opinion.” “On what?” Mariene sounded truly concerned now.

I looked up at the slate-grey sky and sighed, “it’s nothing.” My shoulders drooped, “it was nice talking to you.” I said in a tone that didn’t really convey the sentiment at all.

“Wait,” Mariene said quickly, “Anika, don’t hang up. If it’s really bad, you can stay with me. Or maybe get an apartment of your own! You’re almost 30 and living with 3 other people is--” “Goodbye Marienne.” I hung up. I looked over my shoulder as I had been doing for weeks now ever since a that first panic pumping night. That first feeling of something, something I couldn’t see approaching.

I checked the park one more time but only saw the squirrels in a trash bin and an old man sleeping on a bench nearby. I got up and told myself that I hadn’t heard from it in awhile now. “I’ll just go back to my apartment,” I rubbed my face. “And sleep.”

“And sleep” was mostly wishful thinking at that point. I hadn’t slept well in awhile. Soft bits of snow started to fall and catch in my hair and eyelashes. I took a deep chilly breath that prickled in my lungs and grounded me. I started walking. I had taken to wondering at night and going in random directions.

I had to use google maps to get home on these nights. I followed the little blue line on my phone down a dark narrow street that directed me toward home. That’s when I heard the distinct echoing.

“Oh.” I said.

Clack, clack, clack

It’s steps reverberated through the dank street and I looked around me. Belatedly, I realized that I had chosen the one street in all of New York that was empty. “Do you only come,” I looked behind me and it seemed even quicker than the last time we met. “When I’m alone?”

Clack, clack, clack

Did it keep getting faster, closer, better at this each time? I couldn’t tell. I started hurrying down the long dark street with empty buildings on either side of me. I needed to find people. I just needed to find some other living breathing person.

Clack-clack-clack-clack

I looked behind me and in the soft fallen snow I saw it’s footsteps. They weren’t shoes or toes or even paws. It was something much worse.

I let out a scream and turned a corner. I ran straight into an old woman with her hair falling out and a sallow look to her skin. “Oh thank God,” I grabbed her and turned, “do you see that?!”

I pointed to the place where the steps were misshapen and lumpy in the snowfall.

“See what, dear?” She asked with her eyes squinted and I remembered to breath again.

“Nothing.” I collapsed onto the ground next to her, “nothing at all.”

----------------

Things were different after that. I went out more. I went dancing so much the blisters on my toes had blisters. I stayed in crowds. I never stayed home. I considered getting a cat, but then what if it hurt the cat when we were finally alone? I knew I had started to bother my friends. They gave me irritated looks when I third-wheeled on nights out with their boyfriends. I knew I was getting annoying when I clung to them and looked over my shoulder wherever we went. I knew I was distracted and not much fun.

It didn’t help that Molly saw me sliding a giant knife into my purse. It didn’t help when Olivia asked me what was in my pocket jokingly and reached in to find handfuls of sand. I couldn’t give her the proper explanation. I couldn’t tell her that I needed to see if it was coming.

It stayed at bay though, as long as I was never alone.

I went back to the house on Chestnut Hill. I suspected that’s where it started-- with the dust and the baby crib. However, when I finally found the address that Olivia gave me the place was completely empty with a “for sale” sign out front.

I couldn’t find the owner’s new address and when I tried to find the basement I couldn’t find that either.

It was midwinter when my friends finally had an intervention.

“We think you need some me-time.” Carmen said factually as we sat in the middle of the living room. “Why don’t you stay home tonight and give yourself a spa night?” She smiled tightly.

They all stared at me from places on the couch and I didn’t even care that we hadn’t had fun together in months. I just needed them to be in the room.

“Sure.” I said with an absent nod. “We can do a spa night tonight.” “Well, babe,” Olivia said slowly, “I’m going to do some me-time tonight in my studio. By myself. Carmen is going on a date with her boyfriend. And Molly is going to visit her parents tonight.” I turned to Molly. “I’d love to see your folks. It’s been too long.” I gave a strained smile.

Molly shook her head. “They saw you last week.” She said with an equally strained smile. “And I was thinking… it would be nice to be only me and them. You know, with my dad being sick and all.” I clenched my teeth, “Of course.” I went on, “but I’d love to give him some get-well presents.” “And you can!” She said, “but not tonight.”

She got up to leave and I turned to Carmen. I opened my mouth and she put her hand up. “No.” She said, “I let you come out with me and Isiah last time and you wouldn’t even leave us alone on the pier. Just, no.” My face fell as she got up to leave as well, “this isn’t healthy.”

I got up as well, “fine.” I said, “I’ll go out by myself.” I could certainly spend a night in the park or at yet another club again.

I heard a collective sigh and Olivia took my shoulder, “do what you need to do.” She kissed my cheek, “but you need to get some rest.”

Rest? It sounded like a joke at this point.

I shook my head. “Let me just get my bag and I’ll go downstairs with you all.” I said and hurried to my room. I expected them to wait. They always waited before. Olivia was my best friend and she would never leave me.

I came back to the empty living room.

Pat-pat-pat

It was so fast now. I let out a small cry before dashing out into the hallway. I barely made it out where I banged on every single one of my neighbors doors. “Please,” I hit 603 with my bare hands and tried the door knob, “please, please come out.” Pat-pat-pat-pat

I ran from door to door banging and yelling and running as the thing’s enormous weight bore down. I felt a hot breath on my neck.

“What is it?” A family-man with a beard burst out of room 610. “Are you alright?” I exhaled as the heat from the things mouth disappeared. The tears were streaming down my face then and I reached for my phone, “I’m sorry.” I said and then I made a phone call to the one person I thought might still want to see me.

-------------------

Derick walked in the door with his slouchy jeans and tousled brown hair. He wore a sheepish look on his face and hung back the second he entered the apartment. He was just in time after the guy from 610 left. Derick rubbed the back of his neck as we exchanged looks, “Uh, I guess you heard me and Serina broke up.” I shook my head. “I heard.” Derick seemed to see me for the first time, “babe, why are you holding a baseball bat?” He frowned, “And why did you call me here? Last time we talked you said you’d like to see me dead.” “It doesn’t matter.” I said blankly. Robotically. “None of it matters. You still want me. Yes?” “I mean,” he shifted from foot to foot. “We had fun together. We dated for five years, that wasn’t nothing.” “It wasn’t.” I agreed. “And we could be together again.” His face emptied, “You said we wanted different things though, like, kids and a house. I still want those things, Anika.” I was so tired. I dropped the baseball bat and walked over to him. I wrapped my arms around him so he wouldn’t escape and buried my face in his chest. “Let’s have kids.” I said blankly, “lets have as many kids as we possibly can.” “Alright?”

“But you have to promise me,” I squeezed him tightly around the middle and he grunted as I dug my nails in. “Never,” I seethed between my teeth. I was still shaking somehow and maybe I would never stop shaking. “Never ever leave me alone.”

#horror story #supernatural #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #original story #my work #creepy story #short story #cw: long post #any and all feedback would be appreciated!

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we-rate-tmnt · 4 years ago

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I request: Leonardo. Please and thank you 🙏.

Idk if everyone loves Leo or if my header and avatar just remind everyone about this amazing blue boy. (This one’s super silly btw. I’m just sillier as time goes on. Character development I guess?)

The iconic leador Leonardo (1987)

Bro idk why but I loved this Leo. I have a tiny memory, especially with this version but I clearly remember that I thought he was the funniest and the coolest. I mean, he had swords, what was I supposed to do as a 7-year-old. NOT like him??? Anyway, while Raph was the best at insult comedy, I think Leo had the best puns and punchlines. I really like how nonchalant this Leo is compared to his iterations, going along with really silly ideas and having fun along the way. But because of this, his leadership is a little forced at times, he seems like such a chill and fun dude that when he gets serious, I have to squint and ask ‘are you Leo? Or were you just putting on act a moment ago?’ Or my perception is entirely warped over time. Either way, good turtle boy, could have used some work tho. 5.7/10

Here comes grumpy lad wooo this is all read very monotone btw Fearless Leader (2003)

What. What the fuck happened. I was actually so confused when Leo turned really angry and serious and almost manic. I thought that episode when he popped into Casey’s window and was like ‘Hey bitch lets go beat the shit out of some lowlifes’ I was WOAH THERE BUDDY BACK UP BACK UP BACK TF UP. It was so sudden to me and when it was finally explained, it made some sense??? Like yeah, character development is great an’ all but this ain’t it chief. I can’t imagine what it was like having to wait for these episodes to release one at a time. Bc I watched every episode back to back on Youtube and I was genuinely bamboozled. But when you have an experience like that where guilt is weighing down on you from a situation you couldn’t control, it would’ve been HELLA HELPFUL to have at least a flashback, like a line saying ‘I was so useless!’ at BARE MINIMUM. Like right after Shredder is booted off to Planet Zula, Donnie would notice that Leo didn’t seem all that happy and would ask why and Leo would get upset and yell at Donnie saying that ‘You wouldn’t understand’, ‘You don’t know how I felt, how I feel because of that’, etc. Like you don’t even have to say he felt guilty or helpless, just give us something to grab onto. We’re merely six-year-olds who thought they could climb the YMCA rock wall in easy mode but instead the script riders harnessed us up on the hard one and wouldn’t let us come down until we rang the little bell at the top. I think that is the only problem I had with his Leo. The sudden change of calm and decisive to angry and irrational was so jarring that it felt unnatural without that crucial context. If you want a surprise reveal, at least hint at the reveal (like just about every Disney movie with their ‘twist’ villains) not wait until the very last moment. I think this might be my least favorite Leo and I think the season where he stood out the most and seemed the strongest was Fast Forward (Which was GOOD FIGHT ME), especially in scenes with Dark Leo, his clone. He sees so much of himself in Dark Leo but he also sees something he had once grasped (AKA the poorly written character arc, I CANNOT stress how bad I thought it was). Although, I honestly think he’s a really good character and he’s a pretty neat guy. However, this score is entirely held up by Fast Forward and his connection with Usagi, sword bros to the end of time. 3/10 (2 for FF and 1 for Usagi)

And now a Leo that makes me genuinely feel UWU Leo (2012)

I cannot stress how much I like this guy! Like his design is so appealing, his dedication, his obsession with Space Heroes, like I FUCKING LOVE IT. And everyone knows, that shit with Karai, at first when they didn’t realize they were related, I can let slide but kajsdflksadf what even like why did the writers feel the need to add in more ‘love interest’ implications like yuck yuck yuck. The only two interactions with Leo and Karai that I really like are when Leo defeats her using the healing hands technique and when Leo has a goth/emo/punk/idk I’m new here phase and they team up and EXPLOSIONS. He was introduced to us as being incredibly naive and his idea of leadership is from some old cartoon that’s basically star trek but ethically questionable. After his fights in season 1, to the finale with the technodrome, you can see his growth. He’s able to formulate plans and make life or death decisions. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. When Leo got hurt, I felt like the oof sound effect mixed with some tears I normally shed at some Shojo manga bs. While the episodes following were super weird, it was a nice way to help Leo recover, not only physically but spiritually (Although I don’t remember the spirit arc at all except the epic Raph vs Fishface fight, so we’re skipping that). When Master Splinter really died, you could tell there was a huge impact on Leo, but he had to remain stoic and lead the family now. A lot of heartbreaking moments in this series came from Leo and I’m glad they took at least some thought into developing him. Tiny head Leo will haunt my nightmares, but the giggly fanboy will warm my heart constantly. 6/10

I only have one word for this Leo (Heroes in a Half Shell: Blast to the Past)

This is a super crazy bad idea accent on the super crazy bad part have I mentioned it’s also a really terrible idea/10

Okay, spoiler alert, didn’t really think this Leo was that grand Leo (2014/2016)

Painfully average. He didn’t stand out that much, Raph was part of the focus and had that touching scene at the end, Donnie was ICONIC and Mikey (with his weird-ass eyes) was super lively and funny! Leo? Uh, I don’t remember a single line he said. Because he never really grabbed my attention, I don’t have too much to say on this version. The Raph and Leo fight felt forced and the whole ‘keep this stuff that could turn us human a secret’ was pretty pointless and was added just to cause drama, I don’t even remember what that Splinter and Leo conversation was about. Design-wise, really neat! You can see some more traditional Japanese clothing/style mixed with modern (I’d feel a lot better about this assumption if some could tell exactly what the heck he’s wearing, but I get traditional Japan warrior vibes from it) in his look which was super neat! Other than that, if you like him, please tell me why because I don’t get. He was just kinda eh. 5/10

AHHH MY BOY YASSS WHOOO!! Neon Leon (2018)

Okay, I loved Ben Schwarts already from Parks and Rec but like him being Sonic AND Leo, like DUDE. He’s super funny by himself but teamed up with this shows writing and animation, it makes it hilarious. I literally love this Leo so much, maybe because we’re alike but honestly, he’s amazing. I love his design with the red and yellow crescents accenting his skin and livening up his color pallet. He has a very healthy and natural dynamic with his brothers, he’s the first to know what’s wrong and tries his best to make up for his actions. This is really prominent in the most recent episodes, along with the episode portal jacked. In both, Leo is separated from his brothers. Portal Jacked is in a more literal sense, while Air Turtle handles in more of an emotional sense. While both are brief, Leo sees his error and tries his best to make it up to them. I love his dynamic so much and it’s so nice to see something like this compared to the unnecessary drama and tension between the brothers in the previous series. It’s refreshing and this is something a younger audience needs to see; instead of fighting, it’s better to work together and improve yourself along the way. Improvement is a big theme for Leo here. He’s a goofball, makes jokes at every opportunity and isn’t quite skilled at fighting or using his weapon. But he grows over time, he learns to manage his power and he’s working on mastering it. He’s trying to put aside his narcissism more and focuses on his family. I think the approach they took with him rising to leader rather than slapping it on his forehead was the goddamn best decision they could make. He’s making plans, finding loopholes, helping out and getting out of his comfort zone. I cannot stress how well this show has handled Leo, along with the other characters. I can’t wait to see more episodes about his growth and I am awarding him with one of the greatest honors I could give... 10/10

Storytime: I drew a super cute 2012 Leo, you should look at him. Shameless self-promo, but you should follow me on my main blog bc I’m nice and I draw pretty pictures. Also. I have a little 2012 Leo Happy Meal toy??? I think??? guarding my window and he’s been there for YEARS. I need to bring him in and refresh his paint job.

Wow! I didn’t expect this many requests for Leo, so the blog will be momentarily spammed with the requests, but it shouldn’t be too much! Up next should be the last turtle (Mikey) and then we can get to some REALLY great requests I’m eager to answer. As usual, please comment and reblog! I’d love to hear your opinion!

#Tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #leonardo #1987 leo #2003 leo #2012 leo #2014 leo #2016 leo #rottmnt leo #Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #asks #I forgot how my tagging system worked

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whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 5 years ago

Text

Us and Andie Ch. 11

Summary: Bucky works as an Avenger because it’s what’s right. He feels he has sins he’ll never be able to make up for, but he’ll spend the rest of his life trying. However, his life takes an unexpected turn when he comes across Andie, the daughter of recently divorced Y/N. The life he had once “maintained” in hopes of surviving changes as his heart warms for a tough-as-nails nurse and her wonderful daughter.

Pairing: Bucky x Singleparent!Reader

Word Count: 3373 words

Series Masterlist - Masterlist

The swift click of the door unlocking was the only signal that Ethan had come home. The FoH rally had gone on longer than he anticipated, but he was finally ready to turn in for the night. There, on the couch, were his boys and wife fast asleep. The tv was still flashing with whatever cartoon the youngest had been interested in, but there was no sound. He smiled as he watched the three. His perfect family. An obedient wife, two normal boys – he had everything he could ever ask for. Except… He had to live with the constant reminder that his failed attempt was still out there somewhere.

Ethan walked throughout the rest of their home, easily finding his way to his office even with no light. He shrugged off his suit jacket, hanging it over the back of his chair.

It was then the light clicked on.

He straightened, keeping calm as he rolled up his sleeves. “Normally people leave messages if they’re trying to get ahold of me.” Walking around his desk, he finally took the moment to take in who his new guest was. He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the man who tried tearing apart the Avengers.” He smirked, a part of him wanting to ask how failure tasted.

“Helmut Zemo.” He leaned back, the file at his fingertips gently placed under the lamp. “I’m glad my reputation proceeds me in this case.”

“What can I do for you?”

“You’re Ethan Creed, correct?”

“If I said no, don’t you think this would be an awkward break in?” It seemed that was enough of a confirmation for Zemo. He opened the file, picking up a photo and turning it to Ethan. His whole body tensed when he recognized Y/N in the photos. Next to her was… “That’s her daughter?”

“According to genetics, she’s both of yours.”

Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets, his nails digging into his palms. Zemo could tell he’d pushed the right buttons. “And what’s your point?”

Zemo rose to his feet, picking up the file. He flicked photo after photo onto the desk, showing Ethan that Y/N and Andie had gained some rather impressive friends.

Sam…Steve…Natasha…Clint…Peter…Tony…Bruce… One by one, their faces flashed for the briefest moments, replaced by each other. Sometimes there were pairs, sometimes not. But the proof in this was unwavering. The last one that appeared didn’t have Andie anywhere in sight. It was Y/N and Bucky. At the store. Simple and sweet – they looked happy.

It made Ethan sick.

His fingers brushed that particular photo, eyes never wavering from Y/N’s beaming face. Looking up at Zemo, he asked, “Why are you here?”

“I am a firm believer that mistakes are opportunities to learn more. Though Stark forgave Barnes, Barnes never forgave himself. He has been clinging to his guilt like a toddler with their favorite toy.” He pointed to Andie and Y/N. “Until them. They have become his hope. His lifeline. And not only that, but in their time with the Avengers, they have become their favorite citizens.” Ethan was silent, listening and hanging on Zemo’s every word. “I wish to remind these “heroes” that nothing they do, no one they help, will ever outweigh their failures. But to accomplish this, I’m going to need your help.”

Ethan scoffed, shaking his head. “I have no interest in interfering with the Avengers.”

“Not even if it means ridding yourself of what you deem your biggest failure?”

In all reality, to turn a man against his daughter shouldn’t have been so easy. It almost made Zemo pity Andie. He would give anything to have his son and wife back and yet Ethan is all too ready to write off the ones he once had.

But when it was a means to an end, he could only allow himself to feel certain emotions. Glancing at Andie, he had come to the conclusion that pity was not one of them.

“It hurts,” she murmured, eyes fixated on the scenery passing by. Her foot was still bleeding, leaving him to assume that was what she was referring to. It was the only part of her that was injured.

“We’ll be there soon.”

Those were the only two words she said for the rest of the ride.

-.-.-.-

Y/N glanced out the window as the car came to a halt. Immediately her hand floor to the door handle, trying to open it. Quentin sighed, shaking his head. “Child lock, Y/N. Just…” He looked back at her. “Try to be calm, okay?”

Barely able to keep her voice from cracking, she asked, “Why are you doing this? I don’t know you.”

“No, you don’t. And I’m really sorry it has to be you. But unfortunately,” He shrugged. “Stark and his friends have taken a liking to you.”

He stepped out of the car, closing the door behind him as Y/N’s heart started hammering in her chest. Her whole body trembled, filled to the brim with fear. She was here because of the Avengers? The Avengers were supposed to help people. Protect them. And yet –

Y/N was jolted out of her thoughts, jumping in her seat when the door opened. Tears were in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall as Quentin offered a hand.

“I really don’t want to throw you around like a rag doll, so I would greatly appreciate you behaving.”

Y/N grit her teeth, a tremor running through her body as the chill of the night air brushed her bare arms. She took his offered hand, stepping out of the vehicle and looking around. They were outside an abandoned building and she could faintly make out the faded “Stark” painted on the side.

“One of Tony’s old buildings?” She turned to Quentin, but her eyes took in everywhere around them. It was a field with a tree line not too far off. Just on the other side, she could make out the dim lights that came from the highway. They were a long way from the city.

“Howard’s actually.” Quentin’s hand found her bicep, pulling her along. She stumbled, now loathing the ridiculous heels she was wearing. There was once a time when she could have run in heels, but she was far too out of practice to attempt it now. So she let him lead the way.

“Where’s my daughter?” She studied him, wondering if Quentin felt any guilt for this before realizing he probably didn’t. He probably didn’t give two fucking shits. Why would he? The whole point of this night was unfolding right before her eyes.

But as angry as she was, she found herself a little satisfied with how genuinely surprised he was. “How did you – “

“I saw your text.” She ignored the goosebumps on her arms, the tremble to her voice, and the fact that she probably had tear streaks on her cheeks. All she cared about was Andie. “You could at least tell me.”

Quentin shrugged, opening the door and pulling her inside. The door clanged shut, making her jump again. It seemed every moment she looked a little more scared made Quentin feel more satisfied. “She’s on her way.”

He released her, shoving her ahead. She stumbled, barely catching herself as her shoulder slammed into a column. Taking a sharp breath, she tried to ignore the dull ache and the fact that she would certainly have a bruise. Instead, she focused on the sound of the door opening again. She looked over her shoulder.

Andie?

No.

Y/N stood straight when she saw Ethan stepping inside. He was alone, tossing something and catching it repeatedly. It was too small for her to make out whatever it could possibly be, but the satisfied look on his face made her feel impossibly colder. Her shoulders slumped, dread wrapping itself around her and squeezing just a little too tight. “Ethan,” she barely withheld the fresh tears wanting to fall. “Why are you doing this?”

He walked closer, a part of him hoping Y/N’s fear would make her stumble back, show she was still weaker than him. But she didn’t. She held her ground, tilting her chin up and holding his gaze. Even with her fear, she found a way to be so damn strong.

It infuriated him.

Catching the object, Antman’s suit, once again, he tossed it to Quentin. “You’ll be needing that,” he told him before focusing on Y/N. The look on his face was etched in pity and disgust, a look she had seen time and time again. At least that was familiar enough. Sighing softly, Ethan told her, “Because I have the perfect life with Lori and the boys. And I have no interest in being part of a world where you and your mutant were ever considered my family.”

He turned on his heel, knowing he needed to call Zemo, check on his status. What he hadn’t expected was for Y/N to tell him, “That won’t ever change.” He faltered, pausing in his steps, but his back remained to her. She scoffed, shaking her head. “You can do whatever you want, but congratulations, Ethan. We were your family. And it sickens me as much as it sickens you.”

She hadn’t seen him move, instead enjoying the one moment where she had finally been as blatantly honest with him as he was constantly being with her. When she turned to face him once again – she didn’t see him strike her.

But she felt it.

She heard Quentin ask if it was necessary.

She felt her feet stumble back, teetering on heels.

She heard Ethan’s voice, but his words were a muffled blur.

She felt her feet give out from under her.

And she saw everything go black.

-.-.-.-

Bucky found himself more and more confused as they drove outside the city. He had no idea where they were going. At first it was almost unnerving how they were heading towards the compound. The balls Zemo had to have to pull such a stunt was insane. However, that frustration dwindled when they took an exit and headed farther away from both the city and the compound.

He didn’t want to risk arriving wherever before he had a chance to get Andie away from Zemo. Normally he wouldn’t think twice about being able to take a man like him down – but Zemo had been patient. He’d taken his time and snuck out when it suited him most.

Bucky refused to see him slip out with Andie and Y/N.

“Bucky?”

The sound of Sam’s voice on the comm in the helmet irritated him to no end. “What?” he asked, knowing they could hear him despite the roar of his motorcycle.

“We’re behind you. I’m asking you to not engage alone.”

It was Steve’s voice then. “I already told you, Steve – “

“I know. But this isn’t just about you. Beck, Creed, Zemo – they’re targeting Y/N and Andie to get to us. The team.”

“And that’s our fault.”

Silence.

The car ahead took an exit on a long dirt road. Bucky pulled off on the side of the highway, watching through the trees. Whatever road this was – he guessed it was leading to the back entrance.

“Bucky…”

“It’s our fault they’re in this, Steve.”

“I understand that.”

Bucky whipped his head around, surprised when he saw Steve approaching. He’d been running. “How – “

“Sam’s going ahead. We parked about a mile back so Zemo wouldn’t notice.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. Instead he took off his helmet and got off the bike, looking back through the trees. He didn’t pay attention to Steve coming up behind her, instead letting his oldest friend rest a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t trade lives, Buck. We’re going to get them back. I promise.”

-.-.-.-

“This is a really bad idea,” Sam muttered from his spot at the top of the warehouse. He was careful, keeping his footsteps light and body low.

“No one asked for your opinion, Birdbrain.”

“Still giving it.” He watched as Zemo got out of the car and pulled Andie out. She limped, favoring her left leg and Sam immediately saw the blood hit the ground. “Steve, Andie’s foot looks real bad from up here.”

“Eyes on Y/N yet?”

“No, she’s – Wait.” He saw Quentin and Ethan coming out of the building, approaching the two. Andie immediately hid behind Zemo and the sight made Sam squeeze his eyes shut. The fact that she felt safest with him in that moment…There was so much wrong with that. He took a couple steps back, telling Steve and Bucky over the comms, “I can make a move.”

Sam peeked through the filthy excuse of a ceiling window. He saw Y/N lying on the ground and immediately guilt hit him hard. He remembered when he had offered for them to take care of Andie. They promised to protect her. Protect them both. They had taken Y/N’s trust and, in that moment, he knew they failed her and Andie.

And now seeing Bucky struggle made so much more sense.

“We have eyes on Andie. Go. Now.”

Sam didn’t need to be told twice. He dropped inside the window, the glass shattering and falling around.

It was the distraction they needed.

Zemo and Ethan looked up to the roof. Ethan immediately ran inside as Zemo went to grab Andie. He turned as she stumbled back. “Andie, come here.”

Andie shook her head and took off running towards the field. Zemo tensed, a crack appearing in his overly calm façade. He pulled out his gun, refusing to kill her yet. Just maim for the time being. And the way her skin shimmered? She was impossible to lose.

Andie cried out as she fell forward, her foot unable to carry her anymore. Tears streamed down her face, sobs raking through her chest. She remembered the gun. Remembered how calm Zemo had been on the roof. The rainbow-like sparkle that continued shimmering over her skin was like a silent alarm for for Zemo to constantly have eyes on her. In that moment, she hated being a mutant more than ever.

She looked back, eyes meeting his. Still so calm.

And he aimed for her leg.

Andie jerked into a small ball, waiting for the sound of the gun.

But it never came.

Instead, she heard something else. The sound of vibranium flying. She looked up, catching glimpses of the parts of her body that had turned invisible, but not bothering to pay attention. Her gaze was fixated on Zemo stumbling back as Steve caught his shield.

She whispered the smallest, “Steve?”

“Andie!”

The sound of her name and heavy footsteps earned more panic, forcing Andie to curl into a ball again. She tensed when she felt warmth near her, still not risking looking up. When she felt a hand on her back, she jerked, small fists flying in an attempt to strike at anything. “Let me go! Leave me alone! I just want my mom!” Tears streamed down her face, her terrified mind not even registering the metal hand at her back.

It wasn’t until she was pulled into a tight hug, her head cradled between a firm chest and warm hand, that Andie tried fighting back. Her fists kept beating, hitting his chest and shoulders– still desperately trying to get away from another lie. “I want my mom! Where – Where’s my mom?”

Tears stained the shirt she had been wearing as he caught her hands in his, pulling her close. He gently released her, stroking her hair gently. “Shh, shh, Andie, it’s okay,” he whispered. Her much smaller hands clung to his shirt as he kept his hands wrapped firmly around her. “It’s okay.” He lightly stroked her back, not even realizing he was crying as well.

“Bucky?” Her small, stuttering voice broke through his chest. Leaning back, he brushed her hair out of her face, searching for any injuries that they had not been aware of before. “B – Bucky?”

He nodded, offering a tear-filled smile. “Hey.”

She hit his chest, brow furrowing as tears streamed harder down her face. “You left! You just left! You – “ A sob broke through her chest and he hugged her tightly. “You left us…”

Bucky cradled her in his arms. “I’m sorry. I won’t leave you again.” The sound of a gunshot made him look up, tightening his grip on her and refusing to let her look up. He saw Steve stumble – shot in his thigh before Zemo was running inside.

“Bucky!” Sam’s voice. “Steve! Somebody, I need help in here!”

Bucky clenched his jaw, glancing at Steve. “Steve’s down. Give me a sec.” Looking down at Andie, he brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. “Andie, I promise I will be right back. I need to go help Sam and your mom, okay?” Andie clung to him, more tears threatening to fall. Her grip only loosened whenever she realized it was to help her mom. She nodded, dropping her hands as Bucky told her, “Stay right here.”

He rose to his feet and took off running to the warehouse, unaware of Andie’s shimmering skin. Completely unaware of her turning invisible.

And without a clue that she was right behind him.

The sound of glass crunching, people shouting, and a very familiar set of wings cut through the ringing in her ears. Y/N woke to a pounding in her head, her vision slowly coming back to her. She saw the shattered glass around her. There were the smallest cuts on her arms, and she was sure there were some on her face. Shifting slightly, the crunching against her hands earned a small wince.

Everything felt slow.

“Get up.”

Y/N stumbled as a hand grabbed her bicep, forcing her to her feet. She looked up. Her eyes were barely able to focus on Sam fighting…nothing? Her free hand brushed the focus of her pain on her head. Wet. Pulling her fingers away, she saw blood. Great.

“Time to go, sweetheart.” Ethan. She felt another hand grab around her arm. It was firm, but not digging in like Ethan’s.

Y/n tried tugging herself free as she was pulled to the opposite side of the warehouse. “S-Sam,” she murmured, head still pounding, body still woozy. “He’s…”

“God, you’re such a pain in the ass.” Ethan jerked her close, earning a sharp cry from Y/N as Zemo opened the door to their escape.

Sam grunted as he collided into the wall of the warehouse. He really hated that fucking Antman costume. “Quentin, get out of my suit!” His wings took off again, flying him through the glass ceiling as the door was kicked open.

Bucky raised his gun, aiming for Ethan.

“Looks like you finally decided to make your appearance, Soldat,” Zemo sneered, calm voice sending a chill down Y/N’s spine.

“Let her go. Now.”

Zemo smirked, watching Bucky like a hawk. He raised his own weapon, pressing the barrel to Y/N’s temple. She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. Zemo’s eyes flashed when he saw Bucky waver. “Ethan, go. Find the girl.”

Ethan glanced at Zemo, not needing to be told twice. He slipped out the back door as Zemo dug the gun into the back of her head. “Tell me, Soldat…” Zemo’s curiosity laced his voice as he stepped closer. “How far do you think I’m willing to go to remind you and your fellow heroes that you are the very thing you loathe?”

“Zemo,” Bucky said, trying to keep his voice calm. His eyes flickered to Y/N who was now watching him. “Ethan’s not going to find Andie. She’s safe now.”

“Then your team will have to live with the dread that someday she won’t be. You will not always be able to protect her.” Pushing Y/N forward, she stumbled and fell to her knees, closer to him than Bucky.

She whispered, “Bucky?”

Bucky shifted his gaze from Zemo to Y/N, silently begging her to believe in him. “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise.”

Bucky pulled the trigger just as Zemo did, the sound of two gunshots tearing through the air.

One for Zemo.

One for Y/N.

Bucky’s connected with Zemo’s shoulder, tearing straight through.

But Zemo’s connected with --

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Tag List:

@buckyssoul

@amnahs9695

@booktease21

@niahmariec

@mr-robot-x

@lets--be-honest

@purplekitten30

@maggyme13

@littleredstarfish

@mishaandthebrits

#us and andie #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes

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