#((I just wanted to do some art before art block hits me again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

melancholyhigh · 11 months

Text

ARTWORK

ft. leon x artist!reader

synopsis. you're an artist, and leon's your muse.

content. 1.5k words. fluff, smut. nude painting, leon's pov, needy leon, praise kink, masturbation, handjob.

note. this was j supposed to be fluff but i got ahead of myself.

masterlist. i love your guy's feedback :3

“Paint me like one of your French girls.”

You laugh at Leon’s statement. He’s perched on the small, green couch in your home art studio, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy robe as you prepare your oil paints.

“You’re my first French girl, Leon.”

–-

You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind.

He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry.

When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.

On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him.

You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.

People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting.

“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”

“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”

He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle.

He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork.

–-

Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable.

His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.

He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.

Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas.

He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.

You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now.

“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.

It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration.

He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade.

You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint.

Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much.

Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.

He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.

“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.

“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze.

“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”

A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss.

Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.

“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.”

Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch.

You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right.

You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.

“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint.

After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him.

You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead.

Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck.

His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo.

You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft.

You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper.

The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.

“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.” He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?

“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.

He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes.

“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.

You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #✩‧₊˚ fics

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tobiasdrake · 1 month

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Which DBZ antagonist do you like the most?

Boring opinion, I know, but I gotta give it up for the Obvious Choice.

And I'm not just saying that because I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

Frieza runs a real estate empire that carries out genocidal acts of gentrification, purging tracts of land of their native inhabitants so he can sell their land for profit. Commenting on this choice for his ultimate villain, Akira Toriyama stated that he made this decision because real estate speculators are the worst people there are.

Fucking based.

From the moment we meet Frieza, he is a monster. Toriyama likes this Big Guy Little Guy dynamic where the Little Guy is the one you really need to watch out for. Frieza is the Littlest Guy ever.

He's so tiny. And yet you know exactly who the most dangerous person in this group is. Zero question.

By the end of this altercation, Frieza reveals one of his signature attacks, giving us our first glimpse of the kind of person and the kind of fighter he is. This is such an important moment for his character and I'm kinda mad that the anime had Dodoria do it instead.

Muri destroys the Scouters and blinds Frieza. I've talked before at length about the devastating impact that this move and the Namekian warriors' attack has on Frieza's campaign.

But once it's done, he has to face the music. He's not getting out of this alive.

In one last desperation play, Muri tells Cargo and Dende to run while blocking them with his body. And that's when it happens.

This is Frieza.

Specifically, this is Frieza's Death Beam. It's never actually given a name, but is generally referred to as Death Beam. We've seen a move like this only once before.

The Dodonpa, signature technique of Tsuru-senryu, first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, was built for extreme lethality. This is not a technique for fighting; It's a technique for killing.

What makes Frieza's Death Beam stand out from the Dodonpa, however, is its accuracy and its speed. He threads the needle around Muri to hit Cargo before anyone even has a chance to react.

We see its accuracy and speed again six days later, when it finally catches up to the other child fleeing from him here.

The panelwork here calling attention to everyone's reactions as Frieza's ki bullet shoots past them, as his shot threads the needle between all obstacles in his path to strike his target far behind them. Dende is dead before anyone can even process that Frieza fired.

This is the difference between the two techniques. The Dodonpa is a gun. The Death Beam is a sniper rifle. Faced with the physical hurdle of bodies impeding his path, Frieza point-clicked Cargo and Dende to death.

He later executes Vegeta this same way.

Done with you.

All of this context for Frieza's sniping shot serves to set up the stunning subversion when Goku arrives to fight.

Frieza's never seen this before. Goku shouldn't even be able to see the shots coming until they've perforated his lungs. That's how Death Beam works. It's this moment that lays it out: Frieza's about to be tested like he's never been tested before.

Speaking of cool techniques, I've always been partial to this move from his Third Form.

The anime gives Frieza little ki bullets coming out of his fingers but I want to note that we never see a physical projectile when he's doing this. Frieza jams his fingers back and forth in the air while something pulverizes Piccolo.

I've always imagined he's poking the air so fast that it's hitting Piccolo with pressurized air currents. Similar to Goku's Mazoku air current punch from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.

But that's just me.

In any case, Frieza's got some fun moves. He's something of a hobbyist martial artist. Which is to say, Frieza has an interest in martial arts. In addition to his Death Beam, Frieza's concocted a litany of other interesting techniques.

He even invented the Kienzan, independently of Krillin.

Though he can remote operate his Kienzan so it's strictly better than Krillin's. Frieza, in his spare time, has come up with a bunch of cool moves. Too bad he has no idea how to use them.

Frieza's greatest weakness is his inexperience. He practices martial arts the way a business CEO who bought a log splitter so he can cut some wood and feel woodsy practices agriculture. Frieza has never had a proper chance to truly experience martial arts, because he was born too powerful.

The only partner who's ever even dirtied his skin was his dad.

And even that isn't much. Frieza's too strong. He wants to pursue martial arts. He wants to hone his technique. But when you win every fight by blinking too hard in the opponent's direction, what even is there to practice?

Frieza created a transformation to seal away his immeasurable ki because he was born with so much ki flowing from him that he can't even contain it. At his peak, Frieza's ki bleeds out of him. He simply can't contain it.

Goku wonders aloud why Frieza took so long, even after the fight turned against him, to go to 100%. Frieza's been all "Oh I'm only using 10% power this is my 50% you made me go to 75%" and Goku's like, "Okay. My dude. What's this about, for real?

This, incidentally, is not a great translation. What Goku's saying here is supposed to be basically, "Perhaps when you use your full power, your body can't handle it."

He is correct.

Frieza's Full Power has a lot in common with Super Saiyan 3. His theoretical maximum ability is wildly different from the reality of what he's capable of, because he bleeds ki like it's going out of style.

So, while other characters wound up earning transformations that make them more powerful, Frieza created a transformation to seal away some of his incomprehensible ki.

Then he created a couple more because even though he could now control his strength and even manipulate the amount of ki he's releasing at a time, he was still too powerful for anyone to ever compete with and needed even more ki sealed away.

Again, not a fantastic translation from the people who brought us "bottom-tier boy", as Frieza's statement here could be interpreted as saying that he gets taken by a berserker rage or something.

What he's saying is more like, "My power is so great that I can't properly contain it."

Point is, Frieza transformed to lock down his ki and seal parts of it away, so he could control the rest better. Then he kept going, locking away more and more and more of his ki. And even at his most nerfed, he's still five times more powerful than the Second Strongest Guy in the Universe.

Frieza has never in his life had the opportunity to be pushed. That's what makes Goku so enthralling to him.

Frieza plays with Goku because he's genuinely having the time of his life. This guy can fight him in his Final Form. Nobody can fight him in his Final Form. He's so happy, he straight-up forgets that he's trying to complete a genocide against Goku's entire race.

He said that five minutes ago. Gohan's hidden power freaked Frieza the fuck out. Saiyans are too strong now. They've gotten too strong. Frieza cannot permit them to keep existing because they're getting strong. Every last Saiyan, every last one, must die. Every single one. Scorched earth, no survivors.

But then he meets a Saiyan martial artist who's a technical master and pushes him more than he ever thought possible and suddenly:

He goes from "Saiyans are TOO STRONG and they all must die because they might threaten me" to "OH MY GOD I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN CAN I KEEP YOU!?"

It's this desire for a true rival, this opportunity to satisfy his amateur's curiosity about martial arts, that ultimately unravels him. Frieza has one ruthless and pragmatic option for ending this fight once it starts to be too much for him. He can technically stop the fight any time he wants.

But he can't bring himself to do it. He wants to fight. He wants to compete. Frieza's been on the outside looking in at martial arts for his entire life and even when his greatest fears are fulfilled and the Super Saiyan is in front of him, he wants to try.

So when he does attempt to pull his Lethal Ragequit, he pulls back at the last second. He can't bring himself to do it. Goku initially assesses that Frieza held back out of fear of hurting himself.

But later, as Frieza begins unlocking the final chains on his ki, Goku changes his assessment. Noting that if Frieza really held back simply out of a mistake, he could have shot the planet again at any point to finish the job. He's been letting this play out because he can't bring himself to end the greatest fight of his life that way.

This fight is still happening because Frieza wants to compete. I mean, he wants to win, of course, but he wants to win as a martial artist. He's never truly gotten to be a martial artist before.

He is not the guy winning the gold medal at the Tenkaichi Budokai. He has never been that guy. He's the guy who buys up the land the Tenkaichi Budokai is held on and then bulldozes all the people off of it. But in his heart of hearts, he wants to be that guy. That guy is so cool. Frieza wants to play too.

In a sense, by hosting the Cell Games, Cell got to live Frieza's greatest fantasy.

This is who Frieza is. He's the cruel and wicked heir to Genocide Realtors Inc., who is in love with the idea of being Tenshinhan - A desire that exists at odds with - and undermines - his pragmatic business sense, so to speak.

He is the most vile character in the history of Dragon Ball. The worst kind of person. He is also an overeager child whose wealth and privilege prevents him from ever truly enjoying his hobbies, to an extent that he'd be almost pitiable but for all the genocides.

And he is Dragon Ball's greatest villain.

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #frieza

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kill4luvina · 6 months

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"Face down, Ass up"

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

Producer!Erenx Rapper!Reader

Summary : Eren is your one and only producer and you both seem to be having a creativity block while out on a trip looking for creativity and Eren has the bright idea that you two should fuck it out.

Warning : Smut, Reader using N-word, Alcohol, not proofread, (might be more but im not sure).

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

"I'll treat any bitch like a whore, Cause it's the way I like to fuck, It's face down and ass up"

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦

"Eren.." You'd say in attempt to wake him up from his short nap he had taken in the uber. Tapping him a few times as she groaned opening his eyes. "Nigga wake up!" You'd raise your voice getting out of the uber as he followed behind you tired. Putting into the pin into the Air Bnb door as your entered turning the lights on making eren groan again. "I don't know why you being like that, you've been sleep in there for the past hour." you'd roll your eyes annoyed as you went into the kitchen.

You both had been out all morning and nothing sparked your creativity, you wanted to write but you litterally had no ideas. Grabbing one of you're left over bottles of 'Diva Vodka' from earlier you slip off your black leather rick owens sneakers tossing them to the side before pouring yourself a cup. "Why you been so stressed?" Eren would ask walking up with his own glass cup as you poured him some too.

"Bro, We've been here for bout' I wanna say a week and I haven't written anything yet!" You'd rant starting to chug down your drink as he watched you in shock. "You gotta chill-" you'd look at him before putting the bottle away as you made your way up to your room. Once agan Eren would follow you bringing the shoes you had left up with him. Making it to your room he'd put them with the rest of your shoes.

"Yk, I got an idea on how we could maybe get rid of that art block..." He'd say on the edge of your bed looking down at his glass cup, noticing you get slightly excited he turn around a gave you a kiss catching you completely off guard. You had him had has sex a few times so he knew you were alright with it as soon as you started kissing back.

"REN WAIT!!" You'd moan feeling him full enter you at once, holding onto your pillow tightly at the feeling of him completely stretching you out. Tears welling up in your eyes as he kept your ass up leaving you in a perfect arch as he slowly started moving completely demolishing your pussy as your cried out trying to run. It was just too good, and your were struggling to handle it. Eye's rolling back with your tongue out drooling at the feeling of him drilling ya' shit holding you down in that position.

"You like that ma?" He'd ask holding you by your neck bringing you up as he place kisses in the crook of your neck as you cried not even know what was going on anymore, or who you were. "FUCK!" You'd moan even louder feeling him hit your g-spot over and over completely abusing it. The way he was fucking you had you imaging maybe getting married to this nigga if dick would always be this good. "Cmon mama, tell me how good I'm doing or I'll stop." He'd whisper in your right ear leaving kisses behind it as you whimpered shivering from the contact in the sensitive spot.

"Ren! Y-Your doing so well! Fuckkkk- fuck me jus' like that!" you'd continue to babble and moan crying feeling like you were on the edge not wanting him to stop. It was completely game over the moment you felt his fingers touch your clit, throwing you off the edge as you came, creaming all over his dick. Twitching and crying as you felt him keep going overstimulating you like never before. "Too much!" You'd moan throwing your head back on him as he quickly pushed your head back down fucking you even harder.

Feeling him start to twitch in you was the sign he was about to cum, but so were you. Again. Crying loudly into the pillow as you felt yourself completely fall off the edge again you'd feel a warm liquid leave your body, as you squirted all over eren dick as he pulled out cumming on your ass. "Damn, since when could she do this?" Eren would ask chuckling as he gave your pussy a kiss before tappin that ass one more time and walking to the bathroom to run you a bath and clean you up.

"Omg! I have a great idea!" You'd mumble to yourself, but to your suprise eren heard. "See, I told you it would help!" He'd say from the bathroom making you giggle as you fell asleep after telling yourself you'd just quickly rest your eyes.

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#y/n #black reader #black coded reader #aot x black reader #aot #aot x y/n #black y/n #aot x you #aot x reader #aot smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren smut #eren x black fem!reader #eren x reader #smut #x reader #fem reader

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sanctus-ingenium · 8 months

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Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.

hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai

because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out

sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.

the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:

the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.

I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...

first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.

Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.

Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.

The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.

I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.

And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think

what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.

Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.

finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.

#fr you will never catch me trying to mystify my process i will explain literally everything #brushes

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callsignangel · 1 year

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the scarf - lo'ak x human! fem reader

word count: 883 requested by: @oyasumimosura (thank you for the request <3) warnings: none! fluff. a/n: if you celebrate, merry christmas!! and if not, i hope you have a relaxing and safe holiday. please enjoy this quick requested fic. no use of y/n in this fic and again, there may be some inaccuracies as i've only seen the movie once so far. reblogs and feedback about my work is deeply appreciated. <3

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science was never really your thing. sure, your parents were some of the greatest scientists on pandora - helping the na’vi during the first war, studying the botany and the culture to preserve grace’s legacy, researching the anatomy and tradition medicine of the na’vi and pandora. you did think it was cool, but you just preferred more domesticated things. for example, you love reading old human books like pride and prejudice, frankenstein or the island of dr. moreau. baking, doing puzzles, arts & crafts - more specifically, crocheting.

jake and neytiri were like your godparents, and you were very close to them. neytiri may have been a little cautious of you because you were human, alien - you always tried your best to be warm and loving to her. you loved their children - neteyam, kiri, tuk and even spider were like your brothers and sisters. lo’ak you loved more than a brother. although you had never outright told him that. little did you know, he felt the exact same way about you.

you had always heard of christmas, but had never experienced it. pandora’s calender was very different compared to earths, but you still wanted to have a christmas with your family despite it being in the middle of rainy season in july according to the earth’s calendar. every one had agreed to participate - even neytiri, who was secretly curious about this adored earth tradition. unsure of what to find for every member of the family, you figured you could put your creative skills to good use. the forest’s trees carried this multicoloured fibre, complete with different shades of red, orange and yellow. it was soft, almost like a blanket. it was the perfect yarn.

you crocheted until it felt like your hands were on fire. in the end, you had 6 matching scarves adorned with beads, warm glowing acorns and tassels. the sully’s were thrilled, but lo’ak specifically. he had something to wear, made from the love and thoughtful consideration you carried with everything you made by hand. it would keep him warm in the bitter cold of the air when he awoke in the hallelujah mountains, when he rode his ikran in the mighty winds, or when it would pour rain in the forest. he loved it.

as the second war with the RDA progressed, it was decided that the sully’s would flee to the ocean to protect the omatikaya clan. you had begged your parents to consider going with them - it would be a new biome to study. a new culture to learn. sandy beaches and the warm sun, which wouldn’t be blocked by the tall trees. eventually they agreed, asking jake for his permission to come - which he happily agreed to. it wasn’t long before you had made it to your new home.

just like the sully’s, you were considered outcasts but more because you were human. one of the skypeople. but it was a change of scenery and your parents were having a blast with all of their newfound research. even with the heat, lo’ak never took off his scarf. it was sacred to him because it came from you. the kids of the metkayina clan - ao’nung, rotxo more specifically would always tease him about his scarf. “it’s ugly.” “did the human freak make it for you?” “oh no! you have a piece of garbage wrapped around your neck. let me help you with that.” he didn’t hesitate to defend you or what you had made for him. he had even taken and thrown a couple of hits defending you.

learning an entirely new culture wasn’t easy, but you were glad you had lo’ak and your siblings by your side. made the process more fun. they taught you the breathing exercises you would need to swim, but you stayed away from the water as much as you could. you stayed on the island, crafting baskets and nets with other members of the metkayina clan, teaching them new patterns to help fortify their hunting and fishing tools using your crocheting skills.

you had always loved sunsets. but you loved them more with lo’ak. he had always tried to convince you to come swim, but to no avail. as you walked with him on the beach during a quiet evening, he was finally able to convince you to come take a tour with him. “really?? you would do that for me?” “of course, anything for you. but only because you’re cute.” he almost kissed you right then and there.

he woke you up early the next morning to get you into the water before anyone else had the chance to join you. it was unlike anything you had ever seen before - the gigantic manta rays, the glowing coral, the fish, the plant life, the crabs, everything. but while you were fixated on the beautiful things the ocean had to offer, he was staring at you.

to him, you were the most beautiful thing in that ocean. as you held a glowing, flowy fish in your hands, you turned and gave him the brightest smile. he returned it, hand resting on his scarf as he watched you. he promised himself that he would proclaim his love to you before eywa. he just had to figure out how he was going to tell you first.

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ryuichirou · 23 days

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Replies

I’ll start with some news.

I am currently locked out of my twitter account. We did everything we could to try to get it back, but no matter what happens, it will most likely take some time.

I don’t like bringing attention to this kind of stuff because we have tons of other things to talk about which are more important than some toddlers trying to obliterate us for 1000th time (frankly I would rather talk about the colour of Leona’s butthole), but this time it’s kind of serious and important. We don’t know what’s going to happen next, but for now I wanted to say that if we won’t get the account back in time or will lose it indefinitely, we will have to ask for your help. I am sorry for that in advance.

Also, if you were discussing/working on commissions with me via DMs there, please email me or contact me via any other platform as soon as possible. Just in case.

Mass-reporting is wild, eh?

I am rambling a bit, and I didn’t really want to complain, because I know for a fact it would give satisfaction to some people, but you know? I am going to complain: it sucks ass. It happened at the worst time possible and it happened over nothing (literally, the art that got it was a Todd/Wallace non-sexual piece that got too many likes for children’s liking). I don’t care if people don’t like us, I don’t care if they gossip with their girlies about us, all I want is for them to leave us the fuck alone and let us do our thing in peace. Imagine being so unbelievably boring and so incredibly unlikeable and unable to make meaningful connections not only with other people but also with any kind of media that you just have to go out of your way to ruin things for others because this is the only thing that makes your immature brain produce something that even remotely resembles joy. Because your own pathetic self is so deeply insecure and constantly frustrated at yourself that you just have to create an illusion of control over someone else to feel important. I can’t even call it a troll behavior – at least trolls are funny sometimes. This is just someone who hit a midlife crisis at the age of 16 and made it my problem for some reason.

And yet, it’s okay. Even if we end up losing our account, it’ll be a huge disappointment and it will hurt us tremendously, it already did. And it’s scary to think about this scenario, and it’s difficult to talk about how, if it happens, that it’s going to be okay. But eventually we’ll get over it and build ourselves up again, just like we did before several times. And these clowns will still be boring, unlikeable, lonely and very likely shit at drawing.

So yeah. Take care of yourself and block everyone who seems suspicious on sight. It’s not a panacea, but certainly is helpful.

Alright, time to talk about Leona’s butthole (not really, but we will talk about SebeMal, and it’s even better) 💪

Anonymous asked:

Seeing Vanitas made me curious about something: did you ever read Pandora Hearts? I think for a lot of people that series went hand in hand with Black Butler as the main "victorian aesthetic mangas" from the late '00/early '10. Gothic lolitas really had it all back then..

Ohh you’re so right Anon, it was the ultimate late ‘00/early ’10 aesthetic! Boys in vests with bows/ties, crosses and rosaries and traumatic and problematic backstories lol I really miss it sometimes. What an era.

I personally haven’t read/watched Pandora Hearts, but Katsu did! But it was even before we met… So my only association with this title is that Katsu’s old username was “ozbezariusnya” 🥰 Oh, and that Gilbert (?) looks very cute, but let’s be honest, of course I would think he is cute.

nebula-ryuu asked:

Regarding my question, I mean if the Malleus and Sebek ship has a dynamic or a context 😅😅 a background or a story. I have a certain feeling about what it is like but I don't want to affirm anything hehe

I don't know if I made what I said better understood, in any case I can explain it again, no problem 🙏

Oh! Thank you for clarifying!

As for our background for shipping them, we just really really love loyal characters that are a bit unhinged about their loyalty and love/obsession. So we didn’t even have a choice, they stole our hearts… and Malleus is very interesting in his interactions with Sebek too; he is annoyed by him sometimes, but he tolerates a lot and teases him.

As for the ship itself, we tend to think that in addition to Sebek being loyal and obsessive with Malleus, he is also deeply in love with him ever since he was a child. He is conflicted because he really wants to be his lover, but also thinks that he isn’t worthy. Malleus is amused by Sebek and allows him to do much more than he probably should. Actually, I think I talked about their dynamic in this post!

I hope I understood you correctly. Thank you for your question! And if you have any more questions, please let me know.

Anonymous asked:

would Lilia and Azul ever fight over who gets to have Idia?

Replied here! Thank you for your question, Anon.

#replies

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violetrainbow412-blog · 1 year

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Trust [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

wc: 7.8k

summary: something goes wrong with a heist and Kaz's anger lashes out at you, only later realizing it's not for the reasons you thought.

A/N: I feel like it took me literally YEARS to write this. Someone requested the central idea but I decided to expand a bit and since in anon he mentioned that they like hurt/comfort I hope I have achieved it. I hope you like it, thanks for reading!

warnings: trauma (again)

taglist: @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

As soon as you stepped foot inside The Slat, you felt enormous relief to think that you could finally get some rest. The day before, the boss had told you that it was necessary to recover something and had drawn up a general outline of how things would be carried out, so to avoid mistakes, instead of sending just one group, the whole team would go. But at a certain point things had gone wrong and then the whole mission had gone awry. You were scared and everyone else was scared, but you knew that Kaz was probably the most upset about it. He hadn't spoken to anyone since you had to flee the mansion.

“Well, I declare that a resounding failure. Good night, my friends,” Jesper said, holding his side with a wince. Wylan was at his side to catch him in case the pain buckled his knees.

You sighed, defeated, and started walking towards the stairs to take a shower to remove all traces of dust, blood, and shame that you had impregnated on your skin, however, Kaz's cane stopped hitting you in the stomach, blocking your way and suffocating you at the same time.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, his voice raspier than usual. You asked yourself if he was referring to your plans, which he obviously couldn't know about, and why he was upset, but it didn't take anything more to get an answer, "What the fuck was that in the mansion?"

Oh, that is what he meant.

To recap a bit, your goal that night was to recover a few bags of cash that a new gang at The Barrel had stolen but originally belonged to the Crow Club, i. e you guys. It was a payment for an exchange that Kaz had made days ago with art supplies or something, it was a business that none of you were very involved in.

The black-haired man knew the place where it was kept (he always seemed to know the whole city like the back of his hand) and so he had drawn up a pretty solid plan with which you could get away with it. Regularly his plans contemplated in the most opportune way each of your abilities: guns, stealth, the Grisha qualities, strength, chemicals, and the skills with your hands in which you surpassed the man. It was almost like something in you and your friends used to joke that your hands were a kind of magnet for everything shiny, although those same hands also worked perfectly to use a pick and give access to many places.

Things were going well that night, until you had to make a last-minute decision when you found out that an unknown person was in the place and you wanted to get them out of there so they wouldn't be in the crossfire. That was the 'certain point' I had mentioned before, where everything got screwed up. It was about a poor and defenseless servant girl who started screaming like crazy when she saw you and although you tried to calm her down that was enough to draw the attention of the guards, who came towards you to capture you. And since you were very busy struggling with two armed goons, you couldn't fulfill your part of the plan, which was to open the vault where the money that you were going to steal was. It had been a rather unfortunate chain of events.

"Kaz, you know I didn't mean to…"

"Are you deaf, then?" he interrupted you, ignoring your attempt at justification. He took a step towards you, limping a bit due to the lack of a cane, and then you could see the expression on his face.

You'd only seen Kaz this angry once and the poor man who caused it was already resting in peace, so you cringed in on yourself like a scared little bird.

"Or why didn't you do what we agreed?" you didn't know if he wanted a verbal answer, but even if he had, what could you say to that? It was more than obvious why you had done it "If there is a plan, it is because that plan must be executed as I have said, if not, then what would it be?"

"I shouldn’t…"

"No, you shouldn't," he interrupted again, speaking louder than usual to look imposing. And boy he was doing it. “That was the stupidest thing you've ever done, and all for a damn maid? What were you thinking?

"I wanted to help her"

"Oh really? And how did she thank you? Yelling at the guards to come to get you! Did you think about that before acting? Do you ever consider the consequences?” his voice didn't drop in volume, but rather rose gradually with each word that came out of his mouth.

You were in a panic, somehow strangely having the strength to meet his angry eyes, for you didn't think he would start saying such things to you in front of everyone else, who had been silent since the exchange had begun. You tried to think of anything to defend yourself, but even if you found the right argument you knew you couldn't outsource it due to nerves.

Even with your devoted silence, Kaz did not seem satisfied and he continued speaking.

“You had to follow simple orders: wait for the signal and open the vault. Everyone stayed in their positions. Was it very difficult for you to do that?”

"Kaz, I don't think…" Jesper started to say, trying to help him out of the situation, but he fell silent as he watched the black-haired boy turn his head to look at him. It was true, you guys hadn't seen Kaz in that state more than a few times and even the gunslinger, who loved you immensely, thought it wiser to keep silent if he didn't want the opponent's anger to lash out at him.

"Look at Jesper," he said close to your face. If he hadn't been so averse to touching you, you were sure he would have held your face to keep your gaze on him, because by this point your eyes were cloudy and you were trying to focus on anything other than the conversation “He's hurt. You are hurt. Imagine what would have happened if we hadn't been able to get out in time or if Inej hadn't come to your rescue, do you think those men would have tempted their hearts before killing all of us? Of course not! There's no room for charity here because until that servant was in real danger, she wasn't your problem. You behaved stupidly and those actions affected all of us” Kaz fell silent and you thought that was it. You were with your arms crossed, perhaps as an unconscious act of seeking protection, not daring to look at him.

But he took a few seconds to examine you and then said something else:

It is your fault that we are now in this state; without a single penny in our pockets.

The words your fault, and without a penny were the cause of a tug across your chest. It was useless to hold back the tears that had already treacherously begun to slide down your cheeks and that you wished you had the strength to wipe off with the sleeve of the jacket you were wearing.

In all the time you had belonged to the crows he had never spoken to you like that. There had been disagreements, of course, and he'd even called you out for neglecting some tasks he'd given you, but those kinds of hurtful words were reserved for criminals from whom he extracted information or threatened. That's why you were so upset, because Kaz was terrifying when he put his mind to it and you'd just had the misfortune to experience it firsthand.

The rest of your friends were also perplexed by what had just happened, since most of them had found your outburst in the mansion quite justifiable, since it was an innocent life that you had tried to protect, a very present code always.

The other part that had managed to break you was knowing that the man's annoyance was actually due to the money you had caused him to lose rather than the fact that you or someone else had been in danger. Or at least that was what you had understood by the final sentence.

The silence was sepulchral, no one even dared to breathe harder than usual for fear that he would take them as the next victim, and only a small sob that escaped you broke the silence. You hoped that would soften Kaz’s expression a bit, but he didn't flinch.

A part of you thought, due to shock, to apologize to him, but you weren't even able to. You just stood in the middle of that room under his questioning gaze.

When your body finally wanted to react, you walked directly to the stairs to go up to your room, without even looking back, collapsing on the floor and crying as soon as you closed the door behind you. You didn't even think about taking a shower anymore and the burning pain in your ribs, which you hadn't mentioned to anyone about, intensified. You had to cover your mouth with your hand so that the crying wouldn’t reach the floor below and you felt that everything around you was spinning.

You stayed in that position for a few minutes, which felt like hours, until someone opened the door and stuck their head inside. It was Nina, who had surely gone of her own free will but also partly at the request of others. She could hear your erratic heartbeat and your lungs struggling to hold some air, so it didn't take her more than a second to kneel next to you to wrap her arms around you and start running her hand up and down trying to comfort you. She offered to heal you and you agreed, but through it all you thought that even though the blows on your body burned like hell, what was definitely causing you the most pain was the wounds you just received to your heart.

After that night you could say that the tension in The Slat could be cut with a knife. You thought that the others were also going to blame you for the failure of the heist, with justifiable reasons, but you were pleasantly surprised to find out that this wasn’t the case, since they all told you so explicitly as soon as they had a chance. Matthias, who was most of the time the most mature among you, told you that sometimes things went wrong and that at least he was glad that you were okay; with Nina there, the physical problems could be solved and the money would be recovered somehow. But, to your surprise, it was Kaz they weren't very happy with.

You never meant to start a mutiny against the boss, God knows you didn't, but as much as you tried to change their minds, they were distant and reluctant to talk to Brekker. And Kaz, in turn, didn't exchange a single word with you.

Jesper and Nina were the ones who showed it the most, the first one kept looking down at your friend as if he could make him combust spontaneously with his eyes while the woman simply didn't say anything, as if he were invisible. The rest of the group hadn't cut off the communication suddenly, but it was evident that they weren't entirely happy with the black-haired man's behavior.

Although there were few occasions when the seven of you, or the majority, coincided in the same space, since you were always doing other things around The Barrel or the club.

You weren't the proud type, yet you refused to offer an apology for something that wasn't wrongdoing and finally stopped feeling guilty for applying this silent treatment to thinking that Kaz deserved it. Just a little. Also, if he didn't bother to talk to you, everything would be easier for you, because, although you still did some general tasks, most of the time you spent locked in your room, doing anything to entertain yourself.

If you looked at it from the outside, unaware that you guys were a bunch of criminals living in the same horrible building, that looked like a real teenage fight. But you couldn't blame yourself too much, because you were teenagers.

Sometimes, when he didn't notice, you watched him from afar. You analyzed his expression, his posture, his eyes, anything that would help you figure out if he really cared about your absence or the silence of others. You tried to believe that he was in a bad mood (more than usual) because he wanted you to not be angry anymore, but after a long time you always came to the same conclusion; he was inscrutable, shielded in that armor that you highly doubted could shatter, much less by you. Sometimes you wished you could know what Kaz was thinking so you could figure out if he had noble motives for acting the way he did or if he was just a heartless jerk. And, although your desire to read minds wasn’t fulfilled, you began to bet more on the latter the day a new job was presented. It was, now, a kind of revenge against the men of the opposing gang (who had stolen your business payment in the first place), however, when the meeting took place you noticed that he was skipping a detail.

"And what will Y/N do?" Jesper had asked, going ahead of you, after listening carefully to the plan and realizing that you weren't contemplated anywhere. You expected Kaz to say you were going to stick with him, even if it was so he could keep an eye on you and avoid another outburst, but when he shook his head you were completely offended.

"She's not coming"

It was one thing to have received a scolding for the mistake made and quite another to be removed from the team just like that. And that Kaz had responded as if you weren't there made you feel completely humiliated and, consequently, angry.

"Great, so now it turns out that I'm grounded," you said sarcastically. It was the first time in weeks that you had spoken directly to Kaz and he just looked at you sideways for a few seconds, as if examining you, which made your blood boil even more "Are you really going to leave me out?" you continued, now with more seriousness than before. You wished he dared to face you with an answer, and you were surprised at how quickly this happened.

"It’s not personal. This time it’s better that you stay” was all the explanation he offered you. The way he said it made it clear to you that it wasn't up for discussion and you felt powerless, but before any of your friends could say anything in your defense, you decided to take it the best way.

If Kaz didn't want you around, you weren't going to make him. If you didn't receive even a measly part of the money from now on, you didn't care. If it was true that you had screwed up, you weren't sorry for anything and you weren't going to give in so easily, despite the love and respect you felt for him.

“Good luck then,” was all you said, offering the best fake smile you could have and purposely patting Kaz on the shoulder. He watched you walk away with eyes wide open in surprise, even though you didn't even notice it when you got lost in the hallway, and it was hard for him to keep his composure as he turned around again to clear up any doubts regarding how the crime would be carried out; although he tried to hide it, almost most of the group could tell.

What the hell did Kaz have against you lately? The others had made mistakes countless times and never suffered consequences as harsh as yours, because probably the hardest part had been dealing with the boss's anger and being forced to find a solution for what they had screwed up. You probably would have offered to get the money back yourself if he had let you end the problem, but you couldn't even do that because you knew it would only fan the fires of anger.

So when you left there everyone thought that things had already gone on too long and someone had to point it out to Kaz.

"Is everything clear?" he asked, looking at the crows and receiving a general nod.

We would have to wait until night to work, so once there was nothing more to say, each one dispersed in opposite directions.

“Inej,” Kaz said, not even looking back. He knew she was there, he always knew, as if there was a connection between the two of them "Everything okay?"

“Everyone is where they should be. The carriage is on its way and the streets are free”

"Good"

“But there is something else we need to talk about”

Kaz was afraid it was something to do with you, and he closed his eyes for a moment at the possibility. They were on a roof, he too close to the shore to be able to supervise that the robbery was carried out effectively, and she took a few steps until she reached his side. The two kept looking down for a few seconds, preparing internally for what was coming; talking about feelings was never one of their strengths.

"What would that be about?”

"About who" she corrected him "This discussion with Y/N has already escalated to exacerbated levels, you didn't have to forbid her to come"

"And what did you want me to do?" he muttered, more upset than he would have liked, and he had to take a deep breath before speaking again, “She's… was impulsive and… she doesn't measure the danger she's putting herself in. She is like a child, without conscience or limits”

“We all know that, but you called her stupid. That's very different."

“I don't want her to end up killing herself,” he said, and Inej caught a hint of sincere concern tinging her friend's voice. Kaz hated seeing himself like this, but there was something about her that made him trust her with that part of him. “Y/N acts with her heart, that's the problem. And I worry that she doesn't know how to control it. I don't want anyone to hurt her and she just doesn't cooperate” he sounded desperate, helpless, and then Inej realized how many things were being ignored by the team about the boss's decisions, apparently cruel, but quite considered in the background. It was like… acting badly for the right reasons. Or something like that.

“Well, if you really do this to safeguard her welfare, you should tell her. Because I don't think you're giving him the right message with your actions” Inej told him. Then she decided that she wasn't going to pry into the matter anymore from that point on, wishing that the conversation had been enough to make the black-haired man see reason.

He thought about it for a second and wished he could ask her more, but then he noticed that, as always, she had already vanished into the night.

Kaz tried very hard to focus on the robbery and stop thinking about you or what it would be wise to say to you, but he was having some trouble. In the next hour, to everyone's surprise in general, things went perfectly; there was no guard, just a driver who didn't resist, and they were coming back with some juicy loot. Almost too easy to be true.

Kaz didn't give much thought to the nature of the success they'd just had and they all just set off, their group spirits much better now that things were looking up.

It would be foolish to deny that Kaz had been thinking about how quickly you would have managed to carry out the robbery and also had missed the joking duo that you formed with Jesper, who now had barely looked at the blue-eyed man.

On the way he got a bit withdrawn and was mentally torturing himself about what was the right thing to do when he got home. After thinking it through, he concluded that he should take Inej’s advice and talk to you to fix things. Brekker wasn't used to apologizing, but at least he could explain things to you the way he had with the girl, so that you would understand better and hopefully forgive him for the idiotic behavior he had been displaying for the past few weeks. Although he was still upset, it was worth putting that aside to try.

After going to the club to save the cash they went back to The Slat and when he stood in front of your door he never thought to feel more nervous in life, while he started to ask himself if that was a good idea. Maybe he should just let time wash away your bad face and carry on as before... but he was also aware that that wouldn't happen.

He hesitated for a long time about whether to knock on your door or not, but after a few minutes he finally did and was frustrated when no one answered, despite a strip of light coming through the door grate.

"Y/N, I know you’re there" he tried, but there was no response. Kaz ran a gloved hand through his hair and exhaled in frustration. "Fine, don't talk to me if you want, but that's not going to stop me from coming to tell you what I came to say," he muttered determinedly. Even trying to communicate assertively, he couldn't help but sound rude. “I didn't mean to yell at you like that when we got back from the heist, I just didn't know what else to do. And today I asked you to stay here because it could be dangerous and I'm trying to take care of you because apparently you don't give a damn about your own life, not because I hate you or because I'm upset with you. It's just that…” he was having a hard time talking, so he had to take a deep breath to collect himself a little “I worry about you. And I want you to be okay. Safe"

Kaz was silent, waiting for you to say something, but again there was nothing. He felt so foolish and embarrassed that he even thought his eyes were going to glaze over with helplessness. He was trying his best to go there, but you didn't seem to care, and honestly, he didn't blame you.

His gaze lowered to the floor, the pressing sensation of rejection flooding his chest, and only then did he notice the glow emanating from a section of the floor. With difficulty he knelt to take the substance with his fingers and his glove was stained with a fine powder that gave off an iridescent glow, which until that moment he had not realized he was scattered over various sections of the corridor. And next to that dust, there was a bloodstain.

Kaz didn't even wait for a second to lunge at your bedroom door and yank it open, which he hadn't done before out of respect for your privacy, only to realize that everything in there was turned upside down. There were remains of a smashed nightstand, books scattered on the floor, the bed in disarray, and sporadic stains of blood that he prayed weren't yours. The window was wide open and the white curtain billowed violently in the night air.

Someone had broken into your room and it wasn't hard to put the pieces together to find out what they had broken into. Someone had kidnapped you.

His eyes traveled all over the place looking for something that would give him clues and he decided to start rummaging through the books hoping to find a note, the amount for your ransom, whatever. When he read ‘We're even, Brekker’ written on yellowed paper and signed with the seal of a snake, he felt that his balance was missing.

That's why the robbery of the carriage had been so easy, because they had wanted it that way. Their plan was always to enter The Slat. You were there, alone, and they kidnapped you because Kaz had allowed it. Because in his eagerness to protect you, he had delivered you directly to the enemy.

It was all his fault.

"Jesper!" he screamed, on first impulse. He didn't know if it was difficult for him to get up from the floor due to dizziness or because of the limp “Inej! Wylan! Whoever!" he continued, wanting to get the attention of anyone who could help him. He was in a panic and he was also furious. He would be capable of torturing the men who had kidnapped you in the most horrible ways ever seen, as soon as he found out who they were.

All the people present in the building followed the sound of the boss's wailing and when they observed the state of your room a collective sigh of surprise filled the silence.

"Where is Y/N?"

“I don't know,” Kaz hissed, sounding desperate. That didn't even matter to him anymore "They took her, they set us up"

“We have to find her,” Matthias muttered, and he wanted to hit him for saying something so obvious. But he had to calm down, for everyone's sake.

"There's blood and this in the hallway," said the black-haired man, showing everyone the dust that still glittered on his glove.

"It's a trail," Wylan exclaimed, his features lighting up like when he had an idea. He stepped forward to analyze the sample and then nodded. “I gave this to her, it's a bioluminescent powder we were experimenting with. In theory, when…" he walked around the room as if looking for something until he found a box of matches that you had lying around "it comes into contact with the fire, it emits a blue flame" he explained, going into the corridor and demonstrating the information practically.

There was hope, if they hadn't taken you too far your friends might track you down and rescue you. You had been scared enough to leave a clue because you knew they would look for you.

In that moment Kaz felt so guilty that he had ever even suggested that he doubted your abilities.

“You have to follow it. We have to find where they took her right now” he ordered and, of course, no one argued. Everyone went ahead to get the necessary things to look for you and Kaz leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing slowly in an attempt to contain one of those panic attacks he sometimes felt, not imagining that this would only be the beginning of an awful night.

And the worst wasn’t over yet.

The crows moved faster and more efficiently than ever before, and within minutes Wylan had figured out how to follow the trail. Sometimes there were long lines through the streets that were lit with a single match, but other times they had to look for them more carefully and that consumed time that Kaz considered vital. Although he wasn't saying anything the others could tell that he was quite upset by the situation, so they did their best. Also, you were part of the group, so they too were extremely worried.

By the time they reached Fifth Harbor, Kaz was already burning all the way down his leg, but that didn't matter to him. They were all out of breath, but that didn't matter. And the trail ended right at the pier, but that didn't matter because they saw in the distance a boat with two robust men, one of them holding a lamp and the other struggling with a girl tied by her hands and legs who was screaming in despair.

It was you and you were yelling Kaz's name.

They rushed to find a boat tied to the dock big enough for the six of them and when, luckily, they found it they jumped on it. Matthias and Jesper were in charge of rowing and the movement did not go unnoticed by the men who had you captured, nor by you.

A feeling of relief swept through you as you realized that the silhouettes approaching you were your friends and you felt that all was not lost. Kaz thought that they had arrived just in time and that calmed him down for a second, but he didn't count on the fact that the man would lift you off the ground and, with a sharp gesture that surprised everyone, he would throw you straight into the sea.

Your cry was drowned out by the roar of the water and the black-haired man's breath caught, while everything around him was spinning again. Until then he realized the position he was in: in the middle of the immensity of the sea, in danger of drowning. It was then that the memories of his brother's body came back to him like needles sticking in and he felt like he might vomit.

Kaz didn't know how to swim and even if he had known how to at some point in his life it was now impossible due to his limping leg. But he wasn't going to let you die. He can’t.

In the midst of the attack, he was dimly aware of what was happening. You were now within safe distance of the other boat which allowed Inej to throw a knife at one of the men and Jesper took it upon himself to put a bullet into the other. In hindsight, Kaz would have wished they had stayed alive so he could take it upon himself to give them a slow and painful death. There was no point in letting the men who had kidnapped you die so mercifully.

The water was dark and they couldn't see anything, but still Matthias was the one who ventured below the surface to find your body, hoping that when he did it wouldn't be too late.

Nina kept her hands up to monitor the beating of both your hearts and the rest stood without saying anything, looking expectantly out at the water that rolled in small waves. Only Kaz's erratic breathing broke the silence of the environment.

A few seconds passed, and when there was no sign of him or you, concern gripped the group. Now there wasn’t only the fear that you wouldn't get out of the water, but also that Matthias wouldn't and thus lose two members of the group. Nina winced when she heard one of the heartbeats slowed down considerably, though she didn't comment on it to the others.

When he finally surfaced everyone was relieved to see that he wasn't alone, even if your body was just an unconscious bundle that he was pulling with difficulty.

They still put you in the canoe and you had your limbs tied with rope, so Inej was in charge of cutting them with a knife, while the others crowded around you to try to see how you were.

“She's not breathing,” Matthias gasped. Nina knelt to try to expel the water from your lungs, but for some reason your body was resisting. If she didn't get the water out of your lungs, the lack of oxygen would permanently affect your brain.

"This isn't working," she snorted after several hand movements.

It was only then that Kaz dared to look at you. You were pale, wet, and a trickle of blood was coming from your forehead and you had some bruises. He never thought that he would feel the same pain that he seized when he traveled to the coast with the lifeless body of his brother.

Wake up, he wanted to tell you, but his voice wouldn't come out. You have to wake up.

Nina kept trying and until he finally saw you jump up to vomit up the salt water, he too felt like he could breathe again.

When you finally finished inhaling the air around you everyone bombarded you with questions to check your well-being and you just nodded to them all, a little dazed and scared. Nina took it upon herself to help with the cut and bruises, while the men took up the oars again to reach the dock.

Kaz was the last to get off the boat and he was also the last to enter The Slat, as if he needed to check that the rest of you had done it, since he didn't want to leave anyone behind again. Never.

“Let me accompany you,” he said. It was the first thing he had said to you after the incident and you were so exhausted that you didn't offer any resistance. When you walked up the stairs and into your room, you thought Kaz would leave without another word, but instead he stood in front of the door.

You looked at him with a neutral expression, trying to understand what he was trying to do.

"You were very intelligent" he began to say "When you left the trail"

"Thank you," you said quietly. Your throat was a bit sore from the water you had swallowed.

"How it happened?" he asked. The trip had made you recover a bit and you were calmer than before, so you didn't mind telling him things.

“They were supposed to be looking for your office, but they saw my light on and thought it would be a better idea to go after the helpless damsel. They got in through the window and… voila,” you said bitterly, gesturing with one hand at the mess around you. “They held me here and tied me to a chair, but the knots were so painful I got free in a few minutes. They interrogated me to ask about things of value or obtain some information, but I didn't say anything. My fighting could irritate them, but I think I really pissed them off when I smashed a vase over the head of one and plunged a knife into the other's leg. Maybe that's why they decided to throw me into the sea”

Kaz was a bit dismayed at how calmly you said things and he wondered if you really didn't care or were just pretending. Although he wanted to say the same things to you that he had said to your empty room a few hours ago, the truth was that remembering it made him feel ashamed. It had been a sincere apology, but he didn't think he could say it twice.

"I'm sorry I put you in danger," he said, stepping forward for more privacy. He watched your reaction to what he said and what he did, hoping that if you were still upset you would show it. But the near-death experience seemed to soften both of you.

"Why apologize? you didn't send those guys. It was just some… being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It could have happened to anyone."

“I know, but maybe if I hadn't asked you to stay here, they wouldn't have hurt you” he admitted and although you wanted to recriminate him for that, you decided to remain silent, feeling curious as to how far he could go with that talk "And if you don't… if you hadn't been smart right now you wouldn't be here”

"But I am" you answered with determination "And that's what hurts me, Kaz, that you doubt me" you expressed. You weren't going to forget so easily what had made you walk away in the first place and you thought it was the right time for him to know what you thought about it “I made a mistake, it's true and I take responsibility for that. But you didn't have to treat me like this."

"I know that too," he hastened to say, "I don't doubt you, I never have."

“It is not noticeable. Today you pushed me aside and you told us that trust is always the most important thing. And although I was stupid, I consider that this behavior is not worthy of making you stop trusting me just like that. You know I didn't do it to screw you over, I just wanted to save her."

“It's not about that woman, I don't care about her. You know that I too would have prevented her from getting hurt if the situation arose."

“Then what is it about? Is it only the mistake of the century if I make it?”

“This is about you, Y/N” Kaz said, pointing at you with his open palm and starting to sound desperate “I got so mad because you were the one who ended up in the hands of the enemy. I hate that you act like that because I care about you too much to allow myself to lose you”

You didn't expect that and he didn't expect to say it either. It was even more embarrassing than what he had refused to tell you in the first place.

He said that he didn't want to lose you and you thought about the meaning of that expression: did he not want to lose what you brought to the team or did he not want to lose your person?

"These weeks I thought you only hated me because I made you lose money"

"Oh, I do hate you a little for that," he said, taking a surprise "Not for the money itself, but for what that money implied" there was no point in keeping secrets, if Kaz had already started to sink then he preferred to do it completely and with dignity “The club is going through some difficulties, Y/N. I sold those things so I could keep it going. Because while our criminal jobs give us some kruge, you know that the main source of income for that group is the Crow Club. Also…” he felt his breath shake and had to take a moment to calm down “I've been thinking about something these past few months. A long time ago you said that you had always wanted to go to university, do you remember?” he asked you and you nodded your head “Jesper had the opportunity, but he is a lost cause, because he prefers this kind of life to having an office job or a quiet home and I respect that. But not you, you ended up here because you had no other options” Kaz was silent, hoping that if you had something to say you would say it now, but then he continued, “And I thought if I gave you some money you would have that opportunity. That way I could get you away from all these Dregs and you'd live the way you wanted. That's why that robbery was important”

You were totally stunned.

You never expected Kaz to have that opinion of you or even care about you to the degree that he had just confessed to you. He had listened to you, had seen beyond the apparent happiness of living in The Barrel to find your true dreams, so forgotten within yourself that you no longer thought you could reveal them to anyone else.

You mistakenly believed that the only thing that mattered to Kaz Brekker was dying suffocated by piles of money, but you had just realized that the true engine of life of the black-haired man was the love he had for that peculiar family that you made up.

“You… you know that's not necessary, right? You don’t have to do it"

"But I wanted"

The gap was less since Kaz had walked towards you and you decided, venturing a bit, to take another step towards him.

"Why didn't you tell us that the club has financial problems?" you asked softly, because you thought there could be no other way to talk to him in a situation like this.

"Because it wasn't important"

"Yes, it is, Kaz" you walked in his direction again. At that distance, if you raised your hand a little, he could reach to take hers "That's the point, you decide to swallow all the problems without talking to anyone and then we have no idea what ails you or why this or that is so important. Jesus, if you had told me that money was so vital, I would have put my life into opening that vault as quickly as possible” it was at that moment that you really regretted what you had done and thought that, if possible, you would have returned in time to listen to him and not just your instincts.

"It does not matter anymore. I can't spend my life telling you all the bad things that happen around here."

“You should do it, Kaz. We are a group and we can't just enjoy the rewards without knowing the sacrifice, stop burdening yourself with that alone” he warned seriously “You take care of all of us, but then who takes care of you?”

His reaction was the same as you had a moment ago: stupefaction. Kaz didn't know at what point in his life he had to become that, but he thought that perhaps Jordie's death was decisive for him to have to fulfill the role of the person he had just lost. To be for others what no one had been for him, so they would not suffer what he had suffered. It was quite an altruistic act if he thought better of it.

But after so many years it was exhausting and he wished he could just fall into someone else's arms to rest, figuratively speaking. And there you were right in front of him, probably the person he loved the most, with an expression that reflected a willingness to listen to what he had to say.

So Kaz thought that, maybe for once, it was okay for him to be vulnerable.

“I had an older brother” he murmured, after a long while and you were a bit confused by the sudden change of subject, but you nodded your head so he knew you were listening “He died during the plague epidemic. And miss him so much"

You knew little, if anything, of the personal life of the man in front of you, so you didn't know how to react to the disclosure of that fact. You imagined a little Kaz, scared and sad because his brother was gone. You didn't think for a second about the horrible things he had to go through and that he, with some luck, would dare to tell you later.

But even with this paltry piece of information you couldn't help but feel enormous compassion. He was human, like everyone else, and he was afraid that death would come to take another person important to him. Now you understood better.

"What was his name?" you asked in a whisper, as gently as possible. Kaz was silent for a moment, reflecting no sentiment, then swallowed.

"Jordie"

You weren't going to ask him any more questions after that, you just looked into his eyes and you knew that this was his way of telling you that he trusted you to keep that shred of his past.

"Well, I think Jordie would be happy to know that now there are six of us who love you as he did" was what you replied. You didn't know if it was the answer he expected, but at least it was the one that had come from your heart. When he looked at you, you swore that his eyes were teary, although later you convinced yourself that it had only been an effect of the light.

"I hope we're fine now" he murmured, regaining his composure, referring to the problems that had existed between you after that discussion.

"Calm down, everything is fine. I know you can't live without me."

"Actually, I've had enough of Jesper seeing me with those murder-eyes."

"Then you noticed," you joked. You were completely exhausted and at that moment you were even more conscious, as if you were going to pass out the next second “Everything is fine” you repeated “I just hope this doesn't happen again. I… will try to be less impulsive. And you have to tell me if something's wrong and we'll figure it out, okay?"

Kaz hummed back and you put on a tight-lipped smile. Then you looked around you to analyze the chaos that had been left by the fight with those men, feeling exhausted just thinking that you would have to pick up the pieces of wood, the books, or clean the stains, and he realized what you were thinking by the look on your face.

“I'll send someone to clean all this up tomorrow, I promise. For now, you just… lie down”

"For the first time, I'm not going to argue with you," you laughed bitterly. Then a yawn invaded you and you felt your eyelids tremendously heavy, which he perceived. Kaz didn't want to leave there, even if you were on the verge of exhaustion, however, he didn't know what excuse to use to stay “Good night, Kaz. You should rest too"

"Yeah, um... I'll do it"

“Good”

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Have you really forgiven me?" he asked, looking to make sure you weren't upset anymore. You smiled and, amid your delirium from exhaustion, you stood on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. He paled and held his breath, but you didn't notice.

“As much as you have forgiven me for screwing up the mission. Now go and sleep"

Perhaps it was the shock of receiving something like this from you that caused Kaz to practically run out of your room, without even saying goodbye, staying in the hallway for a moment to process things. The speed of the contact hadn't given him time to panic, but that didn't stop him from feeling the pumping of his heart hammering like crazy under his chest and hot cheeks under the memory of your lips on them.

When he locked himself in his room he tried to calm down, when he was taking off his clothes to put on his pajamas he tried again, washing his hands and face, going through paperwork before going to sleep, lying down on the bed, closing the eyes... but nothing worked.

And eventually he fell asleep with the ghost of your kiss haunting him through dreams.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #the crows #six of crows #jesper fahey #inej gafha #wylan van eck #nina zenik #mathias helvar #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine

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kaihuntrr · 2 months

Text

one-year anniversary!

HI. oh my goodness can you believe its been a WHOLE YEAR (and a day, im posting this a day later OOPS-) since i started working on this au? i dont think i started working on the chapters until... the -ber months? but the general brainstorming started now and oh my GOD the amount of changes that has happened while working on this au is insane! im absolutely floored with how much people enjoy this au, and while im too busy to be posting art (im doing some personal work!) i have all the time in the world to talk about how much this means to me.

i've written things in the past, but i havent for the LIFE of me worked on such a long project such as this (we're only halfway through act one of FIVE!) and learning and growing with such wonderful betas and partner (ehehe @mewhoismyself hello there) is just so wonderful <3

SO! in order to make this anniversary special, i've decided to post a little cut/practice scene from act two! this couldnt make the cut with what the plot has in mind, but i figured itd be best to have some nice moments with scott and martyn, eh?

OH! and before i go, the next chapter will be posted a day earlier! <3 im going abroad the day after the original chapter posting date, so i need to rest. i think this back half of the fic is gonna be really something <3

anyway, i wont keep you here for longer. i hope you have a fun time reading this, just as much as my partner and i had fun writing this so many months ago <33

Martyn tried to listen as Scott rambled on about what he’d been up to, how nice it had been to see his friends again. He even tried to let the small twist of jealousy at Scott being so happy over seeing someone else wrench his attention back into the moment, but it didn’t work. The face of Pearl kept flashing in the forefront of his mind, her eyes and jagged scar glowing unnaturally under the moonlight.

“Oh, and…,” Scott continued to ramble on, but Martyn still couldn’t focus. It seemed that Scott had noticed as his voice trailed off and he looked at the blonde with a tilted head. “Martyn…?”

Martyn gave a grumbled response. His mind blocked out the world around him as he pictured brief flashes of the island, the hollow and desolate stares of the people, the wicked laugh coming from Pearl….

Scott sighed. “Martyn….”

Martyn could still feel a slight buzz in his head from where he was hit. How much blood did he lose back there? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was glad to be alive. Glad that he was here, still breathing, like everyone else. Glad that he was–

“Martyn!”

Martyn jerked as Scott’s face was suddenly inches from his own. Scott’s lips were twisted into a pout and his eyebrows were drawn into a scowl. “Huh- sorry, what?”

Scott sighed, letting his head fall forward, “So you weren’t listening to me….”

“No!” Martyn said quickly, throwing his hands up. Panic leapt in his chest, making his heart beat faster. He didn’t want Scott to think he was ignoring him…! “No, I- I’m… I’m sorry…,” he hung his head. “I’m trying to listen- I’m not meaning to ignore you, I just….” Martyn looked down at the sand beneath him. Guilt welled up in his throat. He’d been so eager to see Scott while he was away, and before he’d gotten back, and now that he was actually here… Martyn was ignoring him. He was making Scott feel ignored.

Martyn shook his head, forcing a huge smile onto his face. “So, you said you saw your friends, right? Did you have fun-? Oh, what am I saying, you just said you had fun- haha…,” Martyn scrubbed the back of his head, then straightened up, rolling to his feet. “Hey, do you wanna go see if we can find your bird friend? I bet it’s missed you too!” He pointed towards a path leading up to the forest, “Bet he lives in there somewhere…!”

“Um- Martyn…,” Scott trailed off looking after him.

Martyn took a few steps backwards, away from Scott, and spread his arms, hoping he’d follow. “Or we can go down to the beach! It’s a nice day, it’ll feel great to splash in the water a little.”

“Martyn.”

“Or- oh, we can go see the decorations they’re setting up for the festival down in the center of town. You said you were excited right, so we can-!”

“Martyn!” Scott snapped.

Martyn stopped.

Scott took the few steps to close the distance between them, laying his hand on Martyn’s arm, then sliding it down to take his hand. He tilted his head, giving Martyn big sad eyes. “Martyn, talk to me…. What’s wrong?”

It was hard for Martyn to not crack under Scott’s gaze. “It’s just…,” he trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. He was just engrossed in them a second ago, but now, trying to tell Scott, he couldn’t think of what to say. “I… uh….”

“You’re alright, Martyn,” Scott rubbed his thumb over Martyn’s hand in a small, circular motion. “Take your time.”

A small pause fell over him. Martyn could hear the slow ebbs of the waves before he managed to speak. “I can’t get her out of my mind,” his voice spat with venom. Pearl’s sadistic glee, her manic grin, her ever-looming presence burned in his head. Martyn’s grip unknowingly tightened around Scott until he looked the other in the eye. His grip on Scott lessened as he looked away. “What good can I be to protect you, when I can’t defend myself from one person?”

“Who said I needed protecting?” Scott raised an eyebrow, his tone still soft but with a hint of skepticism as he leaned to the side to catch Martyn’s gaze again. He let out a weak chuckle and moved his other hand to rest on Martyn’s cheek. “Besides, you can’t protect me from everything.”

Martyn leaned into the touch, not caring how warm his cheeks felt as Scott’s delicate hand pressed into his skin, lightly grazing over the scar Pearl caused. He closed his eyes as he let out a sigh and drooped his shoulders. “But I want to…,” he muttered. He looked at Scott, his face scrunched with worry. “I don’t want you getting hurt at all, Scott.”

“There’s going to be times where I get hurt, Martyn,” Scott narrowed his eyes and withdrew his hand from Martyn’s cheek. Martyn was wide-eyed, only for Scott to hold the hunter’s other hand. “When that happens, all I’d ask is for you to help me get back on my feet.”

Martyn could feel his nerves freeze up at Scott’s warm hold. His gentle stare and concern on his face nearly caused Martyn’s heart to explode. A million things swirled in his mind as the breeze wafted over. “I can’t help it,” he lowered his head, biting his lip. “You should be protected, with all the chaos going around–”

“What chaos?” Scott cracked a smile and shook his head. He shrugged, letting go of one of Martyn’s hands as he gestured around. “All there is to see is you, me, and the beach. Nothing to worry about, right?”

Nothing to worry about for now, but so many things could happen in the blink of an eye. Martyn could practically hear the sound of the sea princes’ ringing in his ears, the one from his dreams laughing as its mouth opened wide to swallow Scott as he screamed-....

No. Martyn needed to be prepared for anything, so nothing bad could ever happen to the people he cared for. Nothing. Never again.

“I still want to fight for you,” his voice was barely a whisper in the wind, cracking a bit from the emotions that crawled up the back of his throat. But seeing Scott’s attentive look, with the slight tilt of his head, Martyn knew he could hear him. “Can I at least do that?” he pleaded. He needed to-. He needed to.

“You may,” Scott nodded, giving him a small smile. Then his eyes narrowed as a smirk crept onto his lips. “So- I’d like to see how you fight.”

Martyn opened his mouth to respond- just in time for a woosh of breath to leave him as his back hit the ground. Martyn gasped, blinking for several seconds as he tried to figure out he’d gotten laid flat out on his back… with a certain ginger pinning his shoulders to the sand.

“Yikes…,” Scott teased, his eyebrows rising, complimenting the wide grin on his face.

Martyn sputtered, his face immediately flushing beat red. “I wasn’t ready! Sneak- sneak attack…!”

Scott laid one arm across his chest, propping his other elbow on top of it and laying his cheek in his hand. “Most things will take an opportunity for a sneak attack, when presented with one.” He kicked his feet in the air, as if he was lounging on a couch reading a book.

Martyn flushed all the way to his ears. “Redo!”

Scott leaned his head down, smiling at Martyn in a way that was almost sickeningly sweet. “Are you waiting for a written invitation?”

Martyn grabbed Scott by the shoulders and surged upwards, knocking the ginger off of him. Scott laughed as he slipped his grip, ducking under one of Martyn’s arms to wrap his arms around Martyn’s torso.

Before Martyn’s brain could fully process that, Scott had rolled Martyn over top of him and planted him flat on his back again.

Working on instinct more than pre-thought, Martyn wrapped his arms around Scott’s shoulders and kicked off the sand. He knocked his thigh against Scott’s hip, bumping him off balance just enough to send them rolling over again.

But Scott didn’t end up on his back underneath Martyn.

Somehow, mid flip, he’d slithered around Martyn’s torso, ducking his arm again and getting outside of his hold. Martyn ended up with his face in the sand and a knee pressed between his shoulders, shoving him down further.

Martyn was about to push himself up with his arms, using his strength advantage to throw Scott off of him, but Martyn froze when he felt something sharp curl around his throat.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even swallow. He could barely even breathe.

Suddenly the sharp points of crescent bladed scythes were touched against his neck so delicately. Suddenly the sharp claws of a hungry beast wrapped around his throat, pricking the skin above his jugular. One wrong move and she’d slid his throat. One wrong breath and the beast would tear him to ribbons.

A figure above him bent down to whisper in his ear.

“I win!” Scott chirped brightly. He laughed as he withdrew his fingernails from where he’d curled them around Martyn’s throat. “You really do need more practice. Though I’d be happy to oblige…,” his voice turned sing-songy as he plopped back on the sand, his arms holding him up.

Martyn slowly pushed himself upwards, staring down at the sand where his face had been in utter bafflement. Why had that felt-? Why was he-? Why was his heart beating so fast? Why… did he feel like he’d just been hunted…?

“That- that uh…,” Martyn stammered, not really sure what he wanted to say. “You’re a lot better fighter than I thought you’d be.” He turned his head to look at Scott, pushing himself up so he was sitting on his knees.

“I know,” Scott smiled widely, tipping his head back and forth, “Do I impress you, Martyn?” He smiled and hummed teasingly, his eyes narrowed in a joyful satisfaction.

“Always,” he breathed, a lot more genuine and heartfelt than he’d meant to. Scott’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Martyn felt his face flush and he looked down at the sand. Well, he was in this far. “I think you’re amazing.”

“Thank you…,” Scott said with a shy little smile. A light hint of red dusted his cheeks. He looked… really nice like that.

Martyn shook his head, roughly clearing his throat. “Well um, as- as fun as this was… I was actually referring to- to my gun combat more than my hand-to-hand.”

“Uh huh,” Scott answered with a small smirk, not sounding like he believed him. “Well, maybe I could help you with that as well.”

“You know how to use a gun?” Martyn asked, more than a little shocked. How… how much did he really know about Scott?

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked to the side, then looked back at Martyn. “Noooo…?” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. He sighed, rolling his eyes a bit, “To be honest I thought you were still flirting, not that that was a serious question. And now, well… I’m just embarrassed.”

“Oh.” Martyn tried to hide his sigh of relief. It was one thing to just not know that Scott was a capable fighter -he was a tavern keeper who dealt with rowdy drunks all the time, Martyn honestly should have expected it- but it was another thing to not know that Scott was a trained gunman. For some reason they felt different. Martyn felt a grin split his face. “Would-... would you like me to teach you…?”

“Teach me what?” Scott’s eyebrows pinched together for a brief moment, then shot up towards his hairline, “How to use a gun?”

“Yeah,” Martyn grinned, “It’ll be like the time I was taught!”

“When were you taught?” Scott tilted his head.

“I think I was… seven? My parents knew I wanted to be a hunter, so they taught me,” Martyn hummed, looking out at the beach. He could remember the eagerness in his voice when he asked his parents to teach him. He only knew of the dangers through them and the people he lived around, but he knew his heart was calling out to the sea more than anything else. “I needed practice, like everyone else, but I’m a natural. A crack shot, they’d told me!” He laughed. Shooting a target from far away was much easier than fighting with swords or his bare hands.

Scott blinked, processing Martyn’s words. He slowly turned his head to Martyn, eyes widening in shock as all sense of his playfulness dropped. “You were a child when you learned how to use those?”

“Yeah…? I wanted to be a hunter, Scott, so I learned early.” Martyn looked at Scott and shrugged, feeling the ginger’s gaze on his skin felt… different. Martyn learned how to use guns to be a hunter, not to– oh. Was Scott thinking Martyn would…? Martyn shook his head and raised his hands up. “But I can’t shoot a person. A sea monster is easy because they’re big and stupid, but a person…?”

Scott had a judgemental look on his face as it scrunched up. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on it as he sighed. “Ending a person’s life is hard, and I’m happy you haven’t shot anyone, but…,” he trailed off. Martyn leaned closer to Scott as he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’s a little concerning?”

“What’s concerning?”

“You learned how to shoot things, how to kill things, as a kid,” Scott looked away, gripping his arms tighter as he watched the waves flow in and out. “Every life has a purpose; from you, to me, and even the beasts in the ocean.”

Martyn narrowed his eyes. Exactly what purpose could those monsters serve? Being ocean terrors? An effective way to kill humans and destroy ships? To bring fear in the hearts of children? To kill Ren- Jimmy? Why were there monsters in the ocean? Why should there be?

“They’re monsters, Scott.” Martyn hissed, anger rising in his voice.

“They’re animals,” Scott hissed back, his face pinching into an expression that was almost pained. “They’re just animals….”

“They’re heartless, cruel, and always starving.” Martyn huffed, pulling out his gun to examine it under the sunlight. Horrible beasts. Disgusting monsters. Murderers. “They’re such horrible, unnatural beasts that every mechanic in the world works to develop better guns and weapons to kill them all.”

He didn’t fully notice the way Scott shied away from the gun in his hand. “You’re lucky you don’t need to leave the kingdom to see those ugly things,” Martyn spat.

“Ugly…,” Scott grumbled, turning his head away, like he was offended by the notion. “Well, I’m sure most of them would think the same about you.”

Martyn blinked, giving Scott a double take. Ugly…?

Scott let out a sigh as he stretched and uncurled his legs and arms to stretch out in front of him. He picked up a small handful of sand and watched it fall through his fingers. “Every life is precious, every life is running on limited time. I’m not an idiot. I know things die. But there’s no reason to cut it shorter than it needs to be. ” He smiled wistfully, tossing the rest of the sand forward. “The sea is… scary, but maybe if you had an open mind, you’d see there’s more to it than monsters.”

Martyn followed Scott’s gaze and stared. Was there anything more to them? Surely not. The fondness in Scott’s voice was hard to believe- but the man has never even seen any beast to Martyn’s knowledge. The fond tone that Scott spoke about those- those monsters with… it honestly made Martyn angry. Those monsters took away the people he cared about. The people he loved. People he cherished. Jimmy, Ren… and so many other innocent people lost their lives to the sea, Lizzie’s parents…. The ocean took all of them, and there was nothing to blame but the monsters that infested it.

“They’re monsters, nothing more than that,” he spat, emotions in his chest wrenching into a tight knot that made it hard to breathe. He swung his arm out to the side, bringing his gun up in front of his chest as he rose to his knees, almost looming over Scott. “I know what they are, Scott, and I know I’m doing all that I can to protect you and the rest of the kingdom from the beasts that would just as quickly swallow you whole as they would crush you into pieces!”

“There’s no need for you to be so hostile about it,” Scott snapped at Martyn, his eyes narrowing into a cold glare that felt like icy daggers stabbing into Martyn’s face. Scott stood up and brushed all the sand from his clothes with a sigh. “I understand.” He walked closer to the water, just enough for the waves to lap against his shoes and tightened his fist, as if preventing to lash out.

Martyn blinked. “Was I-?” he muttered to himself.

He looked out at Scott standing in the surf. He looked… sad. The guilty feeling in his chest built up once more.

All of a sudden, Martyn remembered just how happy Scott looked with his birds fluttering around him, with the canary nuzzling his palm. Oh-. Scott was an animal lover…. No wonder he-.

Martyn was messing everything up. First he’d ignored him, and he was pushing Scott away by getting angry. Martyn quickly stood up and ran across the beach towards Scott, “Oh, Scott, I’m sorry–”

Scott turned to look at him, a flat expression on his face.

Martyn felt his heart twist, “I- I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to make you feel….”

“Upset?” Scott supplied.

“Yeah…,” Martyn bowed his head. His hand twitched out, reaching for Scott’s but giving up and retreating before he could take it. Martyn turned his head away and bit his lip. “I-... I made you-....”

Scott stepped closer and held out his hand. “No need for that, silly hunter,” he smiled sweetly. Martyn took it almost immediately, surprising them both. Scott let out a chuckle and bumped his shoulder next to Martyn’s. “I’m not mad,” Scott said softly. Martyn believed him. He looked… sad instead.

“I don’t want you to–”

“You’re just fine.” Scott assured him with a smirk. “It takes a lot more than a simple disagreement to make me actually upset. We’re okay, right?”

Martyn bashfully nodded, resulting in a wide smile from Scott. Was he… really okay? Or was he just hiding how he felt? For Martyn’s sake? Martyn hoped it was the former.

Scott put a hand on his chest, giving Martyn’s hand a small squeeze. “Just… try to keep an open mind, alright? The world can be… stranger than you might think.” He smiled a little bashfully, “I might have- a surprise or two… to share, eventually.”

“Like how you can kick my butt in hand to hand?”

Scott’s face split into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up with laughter. “Just like that.”

Martyn felt himself smiling, a laugh escaping him as he squeezed Scott’s hand. Yeah, they were okay.

#the sea prince au #sea prince chapters #limited life smp #limited life #life series #life smp #trafficblr #majorwood #mean gills #coral kids #scottyn #martyn inthelittlewood #martyn itlw #inthelittlewood #scott smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #sea prince extras

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beanghostprincess · 7 months

Text

Sanuso Modern AU in which Sanji works as a waiter at the Baratie and Zoro invites Usopp to have dinner with him because Usopp's art school is close to Zoro's dojo. And so Usopp assumes (biggest mistake. Don't assume anything when it comes to this green-haired dumbass) that Zoro has money and will be the one paying. So of course, when they finish eating and they actually have to pay, Zoro says that he doesn't have any money with him and just assumed (biggest mistake. Don't assume Usopp will ever willingly pay when he could just take advantage of his best friend) that Usopp had money with him.

So, of course, Zoro tells him to wait there at the table. His apartment is close and he can just go there and grab the money! Usopp's second biggest mistake: Don't ever let Zoro walk home alone. Don't ever let Zoro be responsible for money stuff, either.

But Usopp realizes that fairly late when an hour has passed already and the staff is looking at him weirdly. He keeps chewing on the bread they had left and drinking water to look less suspicious, but he's dying from anxiety and Zoro just won't pick up the phone!

They're getting ready to close the restaurant and of course, they just had to send someone to tell him to pay and fuck off or- Or go to jail? What- What do they do to you when you don't pay in a restaurant? Is it like stealing? Usopp is going to die. They're going to murder him with the same knives they used to cut the chicken he ate.

The guy who approaches him with the bill seems exhausted and uninterested and Usopp really, really doesn't want to look up. "Glad you liked our shitty restaurant, but it's time to hit the hay for some and my boss wants me to kick your ass as quick as possible. So why don't you make this easier for both of us and just pay already instead of licking bread like a starving orphan."

Usopp is visibly shaking when he speaks up. "Uh- Yeah! Of course! Can't- Can't you add it to my-"

"We don't do that here, smartass, try something else. Like paying."

"Yes. Of course. I- I'll have you know I am the son of a very rich owner of a conglomerate and I'm just waiting for my chauffeur to come pick me up and give me my credit card! I just forgot I left it on the back of the limousine, silly me!"

There's a silence after that. A long, uncomfortable, and anxious silence that's only filled with the sound of other waiters cleaning the tables and moving chairs.

Then, the guy sits right in front of him. "Your friend ditched you, didn't he?"

And Usopp can't keep lying anymore, so he sighs while he looks up at the guy in front of him. "Forgot the money. He probably got lost on his way home."

The guy frowns, and Usopp doesn't have enough time to process how hot and handsome and classy and effortlessly cute he looks right now. With his long (Yes, Sanji has long hair here) hair in a bun and his tie undone. "That's pretty messed up." And he's being so genuine and serious about it that it almost scares Usopp, thinking Sanji might have taken it the wrong way.

"No! No. He's just a dumbass. And he- He lives literally not even two blocks away. He just can't tell between right and left."

"Dyslexic?"

"He's just stupid, but don't ask him to spell anything, either. I actually think he should go get that checked, though?"

And that makes the guy laugh. Like- Smile. With teeth and everything. And for a moment, Usopp doesn't give a fuck about the money.

"Tried calling him?"

"A few times. Then my phone died. And here we are! Are- Are you going to..."

"Going to do what, handsome?"

Okay. No. This waiter is going to be the death of him.

"Uh- If- If he doesn't come here."

"What would you want me to do?" And he rests his chin on the palm of his hand and whispers that so lewdly that it almost makes Usopp have a stroke. But then he laughs again, and just looks around the room before resting his back on the sit. "What I'm going to do is give you a phone charger, first and foremost. And then I'll keep you company while the dumbass of your friend comes here. Worst case scenario, you stay with us for a week cleaning dishes."

Usopp is starting to wonder if that really would be the worst-case scenario.

Long story short, Sanji gives him a phone charger and they stay at that table together for a long, long while. The restaurant is pretty much closed already but Sanji (that's the waiter's name. Sanji. Sounds good on Usopp's lips) stays with him. He tells Usopp about how he wishes he could be a real cook instead of just a waiter, but his father (surprisingly the owner of the restaurant) won't let him actually be a cook for real until he says so. Which seems to frustrate him, but still he speaks about his father with endearment. Usopp tells him about Zoro being stupid and one thing leads to another and he's telling him about anecdotes of his friend group. Sanji mentions Luffy, a friend of his that always comes here to eat, and how he would probably get along with Zoro because they're both dumbasses.

And the night keeps going. And going. And going. And it doesn't seem like Sanji is staying only to keep an eye on Usopp. It almost looks like he's flirting, and Usopp, somehow, has enough confidence to flirt back.

But of course, they had to ruin it. Someone knocks on the door of the restaurant and they both assume it's Zoro, but it's actually Nami instead. Zoro called her and told her everything, yadda yadda. She's exhausted and by the looks of her outfit, she was probably out partying when this happened. Usopp kind of wants to tell her to go away and leave them alone, but he just can't do that with Sanji in front of them.

Whatever. She pays for him. Adds it to his and Zoro's debt. And walks away, waiting for Usopp outside.

They both want to see each other again, that much is clear. But they're both also stupid, so neither asks for the other's phone number. And Usopp goes away without saying a word besides "Sorry I made you spend a Friday night with a stranger. At work, of all places."

To which Sanji responds with: "Well, despite what I said before, I really like my work. And I really, really liked that stranger, Usopp."

And it ends there.

Or it doesn't, because at some point they see each other again. Whether it's because Usopp goes to the Baratie again or because Sanji shows up suddenly in Usopp's art school. I won't say because I have no idea and this is just a concept, but I found it sweet!!!

#i made sanji a bit too flirty here i need to make him more pathetic #i swear he was internally begging for usopp to kiss him and holding back screaming #sanji falls for usopp the moment he sees him too btw #if you're wondering where zoro ended up he's at luffy's house bc it's the only place he knows how to walk to from any side of town #nami was having the time of her life and zoro ruined it #one piece #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 25 days

Text

Will Halstead: Guitar

I needed to write some fluff after all the angst I’ve been writing lately. The song used is Body is a Wonderland by John Mayer. This was inspired by 2x8 of med (I think/ish) That singing did all the right things for me.

Warning: Slight NSFW content at the end (a paragraph or so).

You hadn’t meant to snoop. You were only in his closet because you were looking for something soft to wear. You weren’t going to put back on that slinky dress or your ruined panties. And honestly, it was Will’s fault. If he didn’t want you digging around in his closet he shouldn’t have disappeared before you got up. This thing between the two of you was new and labelless. Dating, screwing, or just a casual thing- you didn’t know.

You did know that this- whatever this was- was a common enough occurrence that you felt comfortable enough to pillage through his closet. You fingered a few shirts before stopping at a soft well-worn sweatshirt. You pull it off its hanger and the smell of Will’s detergent and cologne floods your senses. It’s plain olive green with a Chicago Med logo on the breast. When you pull it over your head it drowns you. It falls past your knees and your arms completely disappear.

That is when you see it out of the corner of your eye. You hum to yourself as your hand grabs the neck of the acoustic guitar. It was well-loved and worn. You carry it back to the bed. You sit down setting it awkwardly on your lap. You had tried to pick up the art of playing a few times before with little luck. You had learned five chords before you had waved the white flag of surrender. You remember two maybe three.

You wiggled your fingers before pressing them onto the strings. When you stroke the strings, you wince. Even you know that sound isn’t right. You make a face chewing on your lip. You were about to put it back when a voice stopped you. “Flip your fingers.” Will was standing in the doorway, a bag in one hand, a warm smile on his face. The other was held up in front of him alternating his index and middle finger. You look back down at your hand and change the position of your fingers. You look back up at him and he nods encouragingly. You stroke the strings again and a rough but much more pleasant sound follows. “There you go,”

You look back up at him guiltily. “Sorry,”

“It just takes practice.” Your eyebrows furrow before you laugh shaking your head.

“No, not the bad playing. I mean for-” You gesture to the guitar on your lap. He smiles again as he sits on the bed next to you. He holds his hand out.

“May I?”

“I mean since it is yours.” He takes the guitar in one hand while offering you the bag from the other. The smell of the bag hits you and you moan in delight when you register its donuts from the bakery a few blocks down. He chuckles at your excitement as you take a bite. He starts strumming and you look up at him. You are surprised when he starts singing in a smooth light voice.

“We got the afternoon

You got this room for two

One thing I’ve left to do

Discover me

Discovering you

One mile to every inch of

Your skin like porcelain

One pair of candy lips and

Your bubblegum tongue

And if you want love

We’ll make it

Swim in a deep sea

Of blankets

Take all your big plans

And break ‘em

This is bound to be awhile.

Your body is wonderland

Your body is a wonder, I’ll use my hands

Your body is a wonderland”

His brown eyes are warm as he looks at you. You are caught in the moment, drawn into him like a moth to light. Your soul absorbs the words as your mind reminds you it is just a song. He’s just playing a song; it doesn’t mean he means the words. Even if he does... it was purely in a sexual way...right?

His hand grips the neck to stop the sound. He is still staring at you with those memorizing eyes. “Wow,” You breathe. “I did not expect that from you.” You glance at your lap before flicking your gaze back up to his. “I’ve never been serenaded before. It was-” beautiful, heartwarming, romantic, special, memorizing- “-sexy.” His eyes darkened and you leaned forward stealing a kiss and then another. He set the guitar down and cupped your cheek overtaking the kiss. His mouth tasted like bitter black coffee.

“Oh yeah?” You murmur your agreement against his lips. His caresses are slow and soft. His fingers tighten on your waist pulling you up and over his lap to straddle him. When he fucks you, he does it slowly. Purposefully. His thrust is deep and rhythmic. His attention focused on your pleasure. He keeps eye contact with you. You watch the emotions flicker in his brown eyes. After a while...

It feels like he’s not fucking you at all.

Taglist @zaidatorcuatomorgado

#chicago med #will halstead #will halstead x you #will halstead x reader #will halstead imagine

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ahundredtimesover · 2 years

Note

Missing our plm couple extra today. Wonder what they’re doing 🫶🏼

I’ve had this on my drafts for a while and decided to finish it with the image of long-haired and glasses JK in mind. It sort of sets up the stage for the The Fight as well. I hope you enjoy 🥰

Title: Please Love Me Bonus 06 - I tell you everything.

WC: 4,421

Tags/Warnings: suggestive

Series Masterlist

Five minutes. Jungkook’s phone pings.

No 10.

Or maybe 15 sorry hun I’m still packing up but also it’s the last day of class so everyone’s chatting it up oh you can come in if you want! Another ping.

Jungkook laughs at your run-on sentences and knows you’ll be cringing at them later. But he’s also imagining you looking a little stressed, trying to multitask between fixing your tools and saying your goodbyes to your classmates.

He turns off the engine and exits the car. It’s when he gets another message - Kook, can you come? I need help with my things 🥺 - that he jogs the block to the art studio and makes a left to the hallway where your class is.

He looks around, in awe of how the decor at the west wing quickly changes. In the half year that you’ve been enrolled in your drawing class, he’s visited you a few times and each time, the art pieces hanging on the wall have been different. He’d spied a few of yours, too, and he’d spent too much time just admiring your work and imagining what inspired you or what you were thinking, something he always asked you about later on.

But one other thing he likes to do when he picks you up is peek through the half-wall window and not-so-creepily watch you work on your piece - focused eyes surrounded by your soft features, with only a look of determination mixed with pure passion for the craft. You did say you’ve come to love drawing after all.

It’s through his visits that your classmates have come to know him, too - that first time, one asked if he was the nude art model and another yelled they wished he was. Jungkook didn’t miss your slightly embarrassed and flushed face when you finally claimed him as your husband. The room melted into a puddle, with oohs and ahhs reverberating through the walls when he greeted you with a forehead kiss and picked up your things as he often does.

Jungkook does all those again today. He sees one of your pieces and imagines what you were thinking of as you painted the sky green, then he turns to the room where the sound of applause catches his attention. But then his smile - the one he’s been sporting since this afternoon when he got to free up his evening so he could attend your event with you tonight - fades, his eyebrows furrowing and a pout forming on his face.

He’s familiarized himself with all your classmates and colleagues, and that half-naked man with firm pectorals and large biceps and chiseled jaw and sharp nose is definitely not one of them.

Back inside, you’re busy putting away all your pencils giggling at the light banter between your classmates. You’d asked Jungkook to help you with some of your things and you know he’s probably waiting outside.

Before your gaze wanders outside, you look around the room and meet deep-set, hazelnut eyes - intense and paralyzing as they bore into you. You’re quite surprised, and as you zip up your bag, you accidentally hit your easel. You shut your eyes as reflex, ready for it to make that sound as it hits the floor.

But it doesn’t.

“You nervous or something?”

The man’s voice is deep. It’s familiar, and as you look up, you know why it is.

He’s putting in place the easel that you almost knocked over. He’s got a smirk on, and you wonder if your flushed form has anything to do with it. You didn’t really expect that the man whose backside you were drawing just minutes ago would be speaking to you. The models for your nude drawing class don’t exactly interact with the artists - it’s kind of weird to do that when strangers have basically seen every part of you.

But he’s here in front of you with a twinkle in his eyes that have now softened, and you’re only able to shake your head. Sure, he's handsome, but he’s also still half-naked - you’re not exactly sure how to process that outside of your drawing bubble.

“You’re rushing, then?” He asks.

“Uh, sort of?” You chuckle, relaxing a little as you try to focus on just his face.

“That’s a shame. I heard that Mrs. Yang’s treating your class to dinner and she invited me. I was really hoping I’d see you there,” he replies.

“Oh? I’ve got an event tonight. Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

“Sort of,” he chuckles now. “I’ve modeled for some of her other classes and no one draws me quite like you do. They seem so real and so intimate. Mrs. Yang said I could personally ask you if I could bring home your drawings of me. I like how you’re able to capture the—”

He’s cut off by the sound of a throat clearing and Jungkook turning you towards him with a deep kiss on your lips, his hand gripping your waist tightly as he lingers on your skin.

“Hey, babe,” he says.

“Kook,” you blink up at him, surprised again by the desperation in his actions. “Hi,” you recover, smiling at his presence despite the scowl on his face.

“You ready to go?” He sounds in a hurry, uninterested.

“Yeah, I was just talking to Samuel. He was asking for my drawings of him.”

“Is he now?” Jungkook arches an eyebrow and crosses his arms. He looks up and down the man in question who still has a smirk on his face.

“I am,” Samuel replies, assessing your husband from head to toe just the same. “___ draws me so beautifully. Her pieces make the hours-long process of posing nude all worth it. She’s got an amazing eye, among other things.”

If you didn’t really care much for him earlier, now, you don’t care much for him at all. You want to tell him off for how shameless he’s being, but the selfish and silly part of you wants to know how your husband would react and well, follow up that sudden kiss he gave you to get your attention.

“She does,” Jungkook replies. “She’s obviously talented but she’s also had some practice. I mean, I’m her muse when it comes to this… nude drawing thing and yeah, I know all about posing for so long being worth it.”

Jungkook gives you a naughty smile and you know exactly what he’s thinking about. “It’s quite the gift when you’re married to an artist, you know?”

“Ah, you’re married, I see,” Samuel hums, glancing at your left hand that’s now sporting the ring that you remove every time you draw or paint. “That’s good. For both of you. Not for me but yeah, I shouldn’t be surprised,” he turns to you, chuckling now, realizing at how stupid he seemed. “But can I still keep the artwork, if that’s okay and not weird for your husband?”

“Her work, her choice,” Jungkook responds.

“Sure, if it’s as nice as you say it,” you shrug, not minding much. It’s always a compliment when your model reacts that way to your final output. “You can just ask Mrs. Yang for them.”

“It is, I truly mean it,” Samuel smiles more genuinely this time. “And yes, I’ll choose the best one, although that might be difficult. They’re all great.”

“Thank you, Samuel,” you grin, not interested to keep this on. “I’ll get going now. It was a pleasure.”

“It was. I hope to see you around,” he smirks again, and you don’t miss the scowl that graces your husband’s face once more.

You wave goodbye to your classmates and tell them you’ll catch up with them another time. It’s when you exit the building that you turn to Jungkook, his frowned expression turning into a pout.

“What was that, Mr. Jeon?” You giggle.

“What?” He’s defensive, even as he takes your hand and leads you down the street.

“Don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing with that kiss and head-to-toe look and hidden meanings in your words, hmm? Are you threatened?”

You’re teasing, a rarity for you because Jungkook does get quite jealous and you’ve never wanted to push him, but something about him in his work attire, rolled up sleeves with tattoos exposed and all that makes you want to just try. He looks tough like this, especially with his hair that he’s growing out, but the glasses he’s been wearing more frequently just makes him adorable. It’s a kind of sexy that you’ve been enjoying lately.

“Just never seen him before,” he shrugs. “And he was obviously flirting with you. Like, ‘you’ve got a great eye among other things’? What the fuck does that mean?!”

“Yeah, I thought he was just being friendly until that,” you laugh. “He’s modeled just 3 times including today. He’s apparently an artist, too, so he knows a lot about forms and stuff. So that’s kind of nice, being complimented like that.”

“Hmm, probably. You also couldn’t stop looking at him.”

“Hey!” You nudge Jungkook. “It’s only because his body is so overwhelming, you know?”

“And what about mine?” He frowns.

“Perfect - just the way I like it,” you turn towards him, stopping him in his tracks so he could look at you and see the love in your eyes. “You, my dear husband, are the most handsome and sexiest being in this world, with or without clothes, and I absolutely adore every inch of you, every ridge and every dip and every beauty mark and every scar.”

You cup his cheeks and feel them rise to his eyes as he can’t help but smile at your words.

“No need to worry, okay?” You assure. “Classes are over and I’m satisfied with my nude drawing abilities already, especially with the muse I’ve got.” You wink, liking how he blushes. He takes your hand and lovingly kisses it before kissing your forehead.

“Hmm, might want to draw me again soon so that this is the only nude body you’ll remember,” he winks.

“Oh trust me, this is the only nude body I remember,” you respond, resting your palms on his chest.

He takes the opportunity to pull you closer, his warm breath tingling your skin. “Good. I’ll keep reminding you though, maybe tonight? Or right when we get home?” He hums in satisfaction and kisses your lips.

You giggle in his hold. “Kook, we’re in public,” you remind him, as an old woman chuckles as she passes by you both.

“I don’t care,” he huffs.

“I do,” you answer, though your words don’t have a bite in them.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he arches a brow.

“Do I need to?” You tease, tracing his defined pecs underneath his silk polo as you bite your lip.

“Fuck, let’s go.”

You arrive at the grand estate of Mr. Lee that’s right at the edge of the city. It took a while to get here, as you and Jungkook took too much time feeling each other up before you actually got dressed, but it was something you didn’t mind. He gets riled up when he gets jealous, and you’d shyly told him it was quite a turn on. You would’ve passed up on this event if it wasn’t so important to you, and he understood. He promised to continue what you’d both started after, though, and that really got you smiling.

The mansion is buzzing. Clanking sounds of champagne flutes, soft munching of canapés, and laughter and conversations fill the grand room and the hallways nearby. There are many familiar people - and not because you know them from the art world, you know them because of your family and Jungkook’s. Those present in the viewing of Mr. Lee’s private art collection are big names in the business and entertainment industry, after all. But they’re here by personal invitation and their appreciation of art, including you.

It’s a twice a year event, and you’re lucky that one of Mr. Lee’s granddaughters is currently your student in the weekly art class for children that you’ve been teaching for the past few months. Her mother befriended you and was kind enough to invite you tonight, and you couldn’t be happier, especially when Jungkook messaged you earlier that he was able to free up his evening to accompany you here. You’ve been busy with various projects on top of the classes you take and conduct, and you wanted to spend time with your husband, even if half the time you’d be gushing about the pieces anyway, something he said he wouldn’t mind at all.

You find your way to look at a contemporary piece, telling Jungkook about the artist, when someone calls your name. You turn to the side and see a familiar face.

“Chi-won,” you smile. “It’s good to see you here.”

You return the hug that the man gives you and introduce your husband.

“You, too, although I figured you’d be here,” he grins. “You’re why I got invited in the first place. I heard you recommended the tattoo shop to Mr. Lee’s daughter. She came a few weeks ago and found out I collect art, too, and she invited me tonight. So thank you.”

“Ah, that’s wonderful,” you chirp. “She said her friends aren’t into the arts so she gives the invitations to even acquaintances whom she thinks would appreciate it. I’m glad you get to witness this, too. It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

Jungkook zones out a little once you and your friend start talking about the artists whose works are displayed in the estate. Somehow, art talk is only interesting to him when it’s you who’s talking, so he lets his mind wander a bit until he hears the words that sort of knock him out.

“Loving the tattoo, by the way. It looks really great now that it’s healed,” the man says.

Saying it’s great means he’s looking at it, and looking at it means he’s got his eyes on the colored ink painted on the valley between your breasts. Much as Jungkook adores the low-cut neckline of your wine-colored satin dress, that obviously also means that other people get a peek at it, too. The tattoo is beautiful - it’s his birth flower, after all, and he feels blessed everyday that you got it because of him, and that he gets to marvel at it every single day. He just doesn’t like the thought of others having that opportunity, too.

“Thank you,” you gush. “You’ve got amazing people at the shop, and that’s because of you. I really love it, and so does my husband. Right, Kook?”

You turn to him and Jungkook manages a curt nod and an almost-whisper of “of course.” Is… is he the man who put this on you?

You and Chi-won say your goodbyes as he heads to the other wing, and you turn to Jungkook with his curious look mixed with a tinge of nervousness.

“He’s a tattoo artist at the shop where I got the flower done,” you say, realizing what your statement could imply once Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Oh! He didn’t tattoo me, Kook. He just owns the shop,” you explain, not wanting your husband to worry that another man got to see your bare chest. Jungkook’s face relaxes and you hear his sigh of relief. “I told you I’d get a woman to do it even if you didn’t ask for it. I don’t exactly want to expose my body to another man, you know?”

“Just me, huh?” Jungkook shyly smiles now.

“Of course, honey. No one else.” You kiss his nose and like how his eyes close and how his features soften at the act.

You both continue the tour around the mansion. There’s an entire area dedicated to all the pieces - paintings, sculptures, mixed media art - and you gush at each one. Somehow Jungkook feels like it’s just you and him in your own little bubble. Even with the people you greet every once in a while, you choose to experience the collection with just him, even if you know he doesn’t understand half of the things you’re explaining - he’s said he likes just hearing the tone of your voice and the way your eyes crinkle when you talk about the things that make you happy.

Unfortunately, he has to burst that, as he takes an important work call and excuses himself. It takes 15 minutes but when he returns, there you are with yet another man gushing over you, it seems like, as the tall man with incredibly strong features and perfect hair shows you photos from his phone and laughs along with you.

Jungkook stands there, not wanting to burst the bubble you have with another person who gets you, in that sense - someone who gets your art, your world, your passion, and who gets to respond to you with more than just “ah, that’s cool,” the way he does. So he lets you have your moment, your space. He’ll step in in a while, he tells himself.

“Why is it that every time I see you in one of these things, you’ve always got that look on your face as you watch your wife socialize with another man from afar?”

Jungkook knows the voice before he even turns to the side and finds Kim Namjoon, your brother’s close friend and a staple in these events as an art collector himself. He’s become familiar to Jungkook, too, finding him during the times when he’s stuck on his spot as he chooses to observe you from afar. Because the man’s right - this happens more frequently than Jungkook likes to admit.

“It comes with marrying a talented and beautiful woman, I guess,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, it’s her world and she stands out,” Namjoon responds.

“She stands out anywhere, actually, with anyone,” Jungkook responds, letting the thought settle in before he continues. “The man’s this big shot executive and a single dad. His 5-year old is in her art class and the kid adores her so I don’t blame the guy for admiring my wife. She’s great with kids.”

“Is it really admiration, though? Looks like he’s just showing off his son to her,” Namjoon observes, as the man holds up his phone to show you various photos to both of your delight. You’re laughing along with the man, smiling as he shows more.

“Yeah? I mean, look at the way he looks at her,” Jungkook responds.

He should be used to it by now. You have a comforting charm about you, and if he wasn’t a stuck up teenager, he would’ve realized that very early on. But no; he’d shut you out and only got to see just how good it is to be around you once he’d married you.

Your students in art class are a testament to that - it’s no wonder you were asked to add another schedule because the kids enjoy your sessions that much. Their parents are a testament to that as well. Even strangers are. But it hits differently, as he sees how the man softly watches you laugh and coo at his own son. There’s a certain glow on your face when it comes to children - Jungkook won’t blame anyone for finding that beautiful.

“Hmm, it’s nothing compared to the way she looks at you, though,” Namjoon says. “You’d be laughing or something, or socializing when you’re in your world, and she’d be looking at you with the brightest stars in her eyes.”

Jungkook looks at the older man with questioning eyes.

“I’ve been to some of your family’s galas, Jungkook. She hangs with me sometimes when you’re off to do your duties, and it always made me smile how adoringly she looked at you, whether up close or from afar.”

“That’s, uh… that’s nice to know,” Jungkook hums, feeling his heartbeat quicken.

“And it shouldn’t be news to you anymore. She may be catching a lot of people’s attention but at the end of day, all she wants is you.”

And right on cue, you look around and find him, your soft eyes asking if he’s okay. Jungkook nods - to you and to Namjoon’s suggestion of going over to you.

“Hey, hun,” you take his hand as he gets closer. “This is Woobin, Sunoo’s dad. He was just showing me photos of them painting the new playroom.” You turn to the other man. “This is Jungkook, my husband.”

“Hi,” Jungkook shakes Woobin’s hand. “So you’re the father of the famous Sunoo. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ah, so she’s talked about him,” Woobin chuckles. “And yes, I am. My son adores your wife, as many of the kids and their parents surely do.”

“___ talks about the kids at her class all the time,” Jungkook smiles, realizing it now. “They just make her so happy.”

Despite your busy schedule full of your own classes and the ones you run, on top of your actual job at the art firm and being an artist yourself, you’re devoid of any stress once you start talking about your students. You know what they like to paint or draw, know how to help them improve, and have so many ideas to make them appreciate art even more. It’s no wonder they love you as much as they do.

“Ah, that’s no surprise. I’m just glad my son got to enroll in her class. I heard it’s tough to get into it now since she’s in demand,” Woobin states. “But it was nice to meet you, Jungkook, and nice to see you again, ___. Sunoo will be happy to know I saw you tonight.”

You and Jungkook bid him goodbye and you turn to your husband, smiling sweetly at him.

“I’ve seen everything tonight,” you inform him. “Another round of desserts and then we can go?”

“Sure, but I’m suddenly craving for churros and ice cream,” he responds.

“Hmm, let’s go to McDonald’s, then.”

“Alright, but uh, are you cold? Do you want to put this on?”

Jungkook removes his coat and offers it to you, and though you know the breeze outside is manageable, you take it, somehow wanting him much closer tonight. You also know that perhaps it’s your low neckline that he’s a bit wary of.

“Sure, Kook. Thank you.”

You lean on Jungkook’s shoulder and hum in satisfaction over the strawberry-flavored sundae. “Hmm, this is almost just as good as the desserts at the event.”

“Babe, McDonald’s is always just as good or better than anything,” Jungkook says with a half-full mouth. “It’s truly amazing.”

“It is. Somehow it cleanses our palette of rich-people stuff, doesn’t it?” You laugh and he joins you. It’s something that sparked your bond in the beginning, after all, and that hasn’t changed.

“Yeah, but it’s also just my happy food, you know? Grease, sweets, unhealthy stuff… delicious.”

“Happy food, huh? Did something upset you tonight? Or maybe someone?” You ask, wanting to know if him stepping away while you spoke with Woobin has something to do with it.

“Not really. Woobin didn’t cross a line,” Jungkook says, an admission that he knows what you’re talking about. “I mean, he was looking at you like a man with a crush, though, and I can’t blame him but he knew his boundaries. Good for him.”

“Of course he does, Kook. He knows I have a husband.”

“Yes, after you told him you couldn’t have coffee with him when he asked you out, which means that he was interested and he probably still is, like that nude model who was definitely into you.”

You turn to look at him who’s busy with his sundae but clearly bothered, but not enough to be angry. You’ve always been honest with him, the way he’d always been honest about the women at the Clubhouse who’d thrown themselves at him after one of his soccer games. You’ve always trusted each other, and you’re just glad that that’s always been enough to not have any miscommunication or arguments because of it.

“Ah, Samuel. Yeah, that was new.”

“Oh? He’s never hinted on a crush? Dude was looking at you like you were all he could see,” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Yeah, then you came in with a kiss and swept me off my feet,” you teasingly roll your eyes. “How romantic.”

“Sorry, it was just reflex,” he explains.

“I know, but you have nothing to worry about, okay? I tell you everything. Maybe not the mundane interactions or insignificant things that I easily forget but the important ones.”

“I know,” he says, smiling at you. “And you know I tell you everything, too.”

“You do,” you smile back. “But thank you for making it tonight. You’ve been so busy and I’m just glad I got to be with you.”

“Anything for you, babe. You’ve been so busy, too, and honestly, I didn’t mind moving the meeting with my father since I wasn’t really ready. Plus, all I had to say was that I was accompanying you to an art event and he let me go. You’re a spoiled daughter-in-law, you know that?”

You laugh at his teasing and the fact that your husband had the gall to ask his own father and boss to move a meeting for you.

“I am, actually. And now it benefits you, too!”

“It benefits both of us,” he corrects. “But tonight was good. I mean, I kinda had to ward off certain men but I didn’t mind. It was still a fun one.”

“It was,” you hum, basking in his boyish smile and the twinkle in his eyes. Something comes alive inside you when he looks at you this way, and amidst the midnight buzzing of a McDonald’s in the city, you move closer and kiss his lips, gentle but wanting, and you feel him smile even wider against you.

“Babe, we’re in public,” he teases, and much as he likes to do that, he also enjoys it when you get a little flustered even when you mouth that you ‘don’t care.’

You peck his cheek and pull him, and as you walk to the car with his coat over your shoulder, as you talk about the art collection all the way home, and as you share a bath and then lie bare underneath the covers with your tangled limbs, Jungkook only knows this - this is your world, and in the one you both share, you’re the only two people who matter.

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#jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction #husband jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook series #please love me

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waffles-art-writing · 1 year

Text

Sleight Of Hand - Task Force 141!Platonic x Fem!Reader (JOKER)

Summary:Ghost and Soap find out the reason behind your code name and the tricks you have hidden up your sleeve. Ghost gets to see through murky water of your home life. Ghost and Soap comfrot you through teh throws of the aftermath of a mission.

Proofread: NOPE - Very little was done.

Pairing: Ghost!Platonic x Fem!Reader - Soap!Platonic x Fem!Reader - 141!Platonic x Reader (JOKER - Previous chapter: Part 3) (Soap and Ghost are a bit more than platonic with Reader :) )

WordCount: 7.8k?

Age Rating: 16+ Preferably

Codename: JOKER

KEY: Y/N - Your Name, L/N - Last Name.

Warning/Info: Kinda a self indulgent thing but meh, Fluff, Angst, Backstory, PTSD, sexual intentions, self image insecurities. Pet Names - Love, Lass, Sweetheart, Darling etc. **Kinda force sexual actions - nothing extreme, just uncomfortable making out** (Tell me if i missed anything)

I’ve done some art of JOKER and the Task Force so if you wanna see it Comment!

Tag List: @boogieman-23

—————————————

The briefing room is filled with typing. The sound of cards shuffling and the creaking sound of a chair. You’re all waiting for Price to walk through the door of the briefing room with the following mission brief and a stack of papers.

Soap had his feet up on the table, leaning back in the creaky chair, straining the legs of the chair with his weight. The poor legs look like they are about to give out, then his ass will hit the floor hard. It wouldn’t be worth complaining afterwards, however it would be a good laugh at the time. Ghost is doing what Ghost does best, lurking in the shadows with a cold gaze, watching you shuffling cards specifically. Perfectly seated where the sunlight from outside is blocked by the pillar between the windows.

“You’re gonna break the chair, Soap” you state as you shuffle your deck of cards, seeing Soap out the corner of your eye leaning back on his chair. “I’ll be fine lass. It can hold me.” He chuckles, testing the strength of the chair’s legs even more. You huff out a “If you say so” while flicking out the jokers of the deck, followed by the aces. The suits facing down before you flip them over, their suits staring back at you.

“How did you do that?” Gaz pipes up, seeing you easily splaying the cards out in order of clubs, diamonds, spades and hearts. “Do what?” You ask, reshuffling the cards, including the Jokers. “Being able to shuffle the cards and then put them in order without looking.” He points out, you shrug as you fan the cards back out. “It’s all magic.” “Bullshit.” Soap quips as he leans forward, the chair slamming back down on the floor. “You can’t do magic, that’s just street work to get money.” You sigh as you look at Soap, a brow raised, your mask secure on your face with the joker smile painted on it. You give the deck of cards to Soap, tilting your head. “Go on, shuffle it then.” You push the deck into his hands, leaning back with a smirk hidden under the dark fabric.

Ghost approaches the table, sitting down across from you with piqued interest and wanting to see what is going to happen. “Here you go lass, shuffled it real good.” He chuckles, pushing the deck of cards towards you on the table, a smug smirk plastered on his face. “Try it now.”

You pick the deck up, shuffling it, stacking it in four different piles. “You don’t know how she got her name, do you Soap?” Price states when he walks through the door, watching you fan the cards out again in the order of red, black, red, black. Soap’s mouth hangs open, gaping like a fish. Gaz is chuckling with amazement, Ghost just watching in curiosity. “She got her name from early years in the army, she always had a deck of cards, always having a joker card on her somewhere.” Price points out, motion towards you who is shrugging. You swipe your hand over Soap’s head, nothing can be seen in your hand, bringing your hand back to his face showing you have a Joker card in your hand. “Steamin’ Jesus” he mumbles, laughing as he takes the card from your hand. Sleight Of Hand.

The briefing of your next mission goes smoothly, Soap still thinking over how you did the card trick. Watching you closely, staring at you, Ghost kicks his leg to stop him. “Joker, are you okay with that plan? Going in without a mask and all?” You nod your head, understanding that your comfort zone is going to be pushed and strained. But you swallow down the anxiety about the mission, a mission is a mission, and you’re going to complete it despite your anxiety thrashing like a feral cat. With the new mission being an undercover op, you go in as a guest to pickpocket a man for a USB drive and get out without a hitch. You would be going in under a high esteem woman’s ID, a bodyguard in attendance with you. Which ends up being Soap, Ghost would be watching through a sniper and Gaz being posted outside in a getaway vehicle. Price would be with Gaz, both ready to step in if something goes astray.

——

You’re playing with the cards again while reading over the file of the woman you’ll be pretending to be. Some Italian woman, Claudia Volta, Daughter of a mafia boss. She will be attending the party in her fathers place, accompanied by her bodyguard. You’re beyond thankful you stuck with languages while in school, Italian and German being your main focus. However you did dabble in Spanish, Russian and French. Luckily for you, everyone at the party will be too occupied with flaunting their money and taking advantage of the free drinks to notice you. Your mission is to get in, find the man who is hosting the party that is promoting his arms deal business before Christmas. Illegally selling the weapons to many mafia’s, gangs and groups of a like. Get up close and personal with the older man, who has a thing for younger women, pickpocket the harddrive from the pocket of his suit and get the hell out of there without a hitch. Easy right? Would be easy if you didn’t have scars that mark your face.

Ghost stays behind, quiet as normal. You look up when you feel his eyes on you, stopping the card shuffling. He tilts his head, a silent question filling the silence. “Nervous tick, picked it up from my dad…” you mumble, flicking out a joker card and placing it on the table. “So this is how you got your name?” He asks, picking up the joker card from the table between his thumb and pointer finger. “Yeah, got a tattoo of it too.” Ghost hums, looking you up and down trying to figure out why? What’s the meaning? Where is the tattoo? He didn’t notice anything when he was patching up your injuries, or when you were in the medical wing. “Covered by my watch…” you lift your left forearm, the bottom of the joker card tattoo peeking out from behind your watch, he can see a ‘7’ and a ‘2’ next to the joker card. You wear the face of your watch on the inside of your wrist, something that many people don’t understand why.

Joker cards are one of them card’s you can use as a good luck charm, to a degree it is. But the deeper meaning behind it, more than just hoping for being lucky. Joker is a wild card in poker, it can be anything it needs to be depending on the situation, making it as useful as the holder is creative.

Then the 7-2 unsuited is the worst possible hand you could get in a game of poker. Ghost knows this, he doesn’t quite understand why you have them accompany the joker. “Lucky charm… Kinda, wild card really. Just like me.” Ghost nods his head, giving you the card back. “And the Seven-Two?” He asks, his voice holding curiosity. “Got them after the joker. Worst possible hand… just like the situation I was dropped into when I stupidly decided to go home one year.” you hold out the cards, fanned out. “Pick a card.” Ghost takes a card, looking at it slyly, blocking it with his large hand. Four of Diamonds. He puts it back, you in turn shuffling the deck well. Even letting Ghost shuffle them. “How did you learn… this?” He places the deck on the table, sliding it over to you. You shuffled the deck once more, taking the top card and showing it to Ghost, he nodded. You smile lightly when you see it’s four of diamonds. “My dad taught me when I was young, I got really into it. I got good at it too, but I kinda hated myself for it… My dad was a thief too, to be able to pay for bills. Especially when my mother got cancer. He used ‘magic’ to distract people while he pickpocketed them.” You pause, showing a sleight of hand trick, Ghost doing the same trick. It is easy, just hide the card behind your hand, the easiest trick in the book.

You don’t know why you are telling him your life story, especially in the briefing room. He’s quiet, listening, paying attention. Not interrupting you, letting you just talk and let your brain run. You feel safe with him, yes you feel safe with everyone in the team. But they just have a different air about them, may sound cheesy but he’s like a large bear that’s always watching over you, but can be a vicious wolf when needed. “Came home one Christmas, it was the first Christmas without my mother. I thought that was the worst fucking Christmas. I was wrong.” You mumble, dealing out the cards between yourself and Ghost. Setting up for Last Card, a distraction. “I get that…” he states, picking up his cards, knowing you’re trying to get a distraction set up. You hate having to confront your memories, Ghost understands that, he hates it too.

You look at him, eyes meeting his, emotions raging like a stormy sea in yours. You place a card down, Ghost picks up and immediately plays the card. “I have three siblings, all half siblings. Confusing family apparently.” Ghost tilts his head “Different mother with brother, different father with sisters?” You nod, surprised he got it correct. “Yeah, my oldest sister is basically the star child. Her young son and daughter are a priority for the whole family. Another kid on the way, my middle sister, lives with our grandparents on my mothers side.” You smirk when you hold up your last card, one play away from winning. “Last time I saw my dad we argued, the same year I joined the army.” Your brother and you are close but both too busy with life, he’s older by 14 years, oldest sister by 12, middle by 10.

“I was in the Army for around three years, each year I spent Christmas on base, taking the time to hone in on my skills. Got begged by my middle sister to come home for Christmas one year.” You smile when you see Ghost reset the cards for another round of Last Card. “Dad treated me like his personal slave again. Got questioned left and right for the first hour, then the oldest sister, her husband and the kids arrived. My presence was basically non-existent, kids liked me. Didn’t mind them, got them to be quiet for a bit when I was telling ’em about my job. But got scolded quickly for telling them, I wasn’t even going into detail about the shit I saw on my first deployment.” You groan, the memory making you feel sick. “Before you ask, no they didn’t contact me before my deployment. Only contacted me once they found out my team got injured.” You pause. “But my grandparents on my fathers side, I like them. My grandfather is Scottish, my grandmother was, well still is Irish. Good mix” You chuckle, Ghost just hums.

“So, not going home for Christmas after this mission then?” He quips, you chuckle lightly. “Hell no. Probably scare the kids off with the scars, cause I just know someone will beg for me to take off the mask.” Ghost plays his last card, leaving you with two left. Ghost places a hand over yours, eyes meeting yours. His dark chocolate eyes warm, telling you you’re not alone, keeping you grounded. “How about we go get you ready for this mission.” He states, not a question, not a command, more a suggestion without the question. You nod, swiping up the cards and snapping a rubber band around them again. The box got ruined long ago. You move towards the door, ready to sit in a chair in the medical wing and have one of the girls dab brushes and sponges on your face for the next hours and wrap you up in an ungodly short dress. Ghost’s hand lands on your shoulder just as you’re about to step foot into the corridor, you turn to look at him. He brings a hand up next to your face, performing a sleight of hand. “Forgot your joker, love.” You smile, shoving his shoulder lightly. He hands it to you, you shake your head lightly, pushing the card to his chest. You keep your eyes on the card, his jacket, his breathing. “Keep it, for good luck.” You whisper, you step away from him, his hand holding the card to his chest.

Ghost watches you walk down the corridor, looking over the file again and again. His chest tightens, heart speeding up a fraction, heat pooling in his cheeks. He’s beyond thankful for the balaclava. He doesn’t understand why he gets this warm feeling, why he gets the urge to have physical contact when he sees you vulnerable. He’s lost and confused. He just wants to hold you close, tell you everything is okay, hear you tell him that everything is going to be okay. But he doesn’t want to get too close, keep you at arm’s length, keep you out of his wreckage of problems.

——

“And Done!” The younger girl in front of you states, she steps back looking at her hard work. She successfully made the scars blend in with your skin, if you look close enough you can still see the slight difference between the textures. You sigh, feeling like you just cake painted onto your face, you’re not one to wear a full face of make out. Maybe some mascara and lipgloss at most, otherwise you just go as is. “Time for the dress!” The girl - Amy - says, her bright personality a stark contrast against your gloomy one. “Just give me the dress.” You snap, already sick of her excessive talking, snatching the dress on the hanger, covered in a black sleeve to keep it protected. “Thanks, bye” You mutter as you walk out of the medical wing, keeping your head down. Happy to be out of the disgusting smelling medical wing, happy to be walking to your room.

(Dress Inspo , Hair Inspo, some sort of braid into a bun or just nice wavy - Eye Shadow)

You stare at the dress that hugs your body, the feeling uncomfortable as you grimace at how much skin is exposed. You swallow the lump in your throat as you tug at the silky fabric. The bodice hugs your body, the rest of the fabric becoming loose and flowing from your waist down to the floor. You’re thankful it’s not skin tight the whole way and nor is it short. “Fuck, god dammit” you wiggle, trying to tie the intricate back laces. You sigh, stomping your feet on the ground as you walk towards the door. Heels clacking against the concrete in the corridor as you keep a hand behind you, holding the dress together. Thankfully everyone was in the common area of the 141 barracks. You peek your head around the corner, your plan to grab whoever your eyes land on first to come help you.

Oh how the cards were in your favourite, Laswell was walking in your direction. “Laswell!” You whisper yell gaining her attention quickly. “Y/N? What are you.” You cut her off by grabbing her hand and quickly walking back to your room, shutting the door and turning around so your back is to her. “I can’t tie it up. Help.” Laswell chuckles at your predicament, smiling as she ties the dress up. You turn around when she taps your shoulder, she adjusts the few strands that hang out from your hairstyle, making sure all the final touches are done. “You look beautiful” you smile, a blush tinting your cheeks. “Thank you” you whisper, not trusting your own voice. “Not used to this type of thing…” Laswell chuckles, her hands holding yours, the bangles on your wrist jangle. The necklace that’s around your neck hangs low, the small blue sapphire catching the light, a silver cold against your skin. You want your dog tags back, they have a sort of weight that comforts you.

“Well, you look stunning nonetheless, knife secure? Clutch with ID?” You pick the simple black and silver clutch up from the bed, ID securely inside, tapping your thigh that has a knife strapped to it securely. “Yes ma’am�� you nod, Laswell nods as she opens the door for you. You make your way out the door, allowing Laswell to walk in front of you. Your heels echo around the corridor, your dress floating behind you gently, the light silky fabric catching the light. Laswell turns around and motions for you to stop, letting her get the boy’s attention.

Your hands are shaky, breath catching in your throat. Why are you doing this? You don’t ever do this, you don’t ever wear dresses anymore. You haven’t even worn heels in years, makeup got discarded long ago. Your mind races, your hands running up and down your dress over your thighs, the clutch tucked under your arm as you straighten up. You hear Laswell call for you, you hold the clutch in front of you as you let out a deep shaky breath. You round the corner, your eyes meeting Price’s immediately.

Laswell calls for you after shushing the team, Gaz and Ghost are decked out in their gear. Soap’s back is to you, Price is fixing his tie and suit, making sure he looks the part of a bodyguard. “God this is tedious” the Scotsman’s groaned, Price just shakes his head, his actions halting when he sees you enter the room. His ice blue eyes wide, a smile forming on his face, his heart swelling with pride. You’re like a daughter to him, he’s beyond protective of you. Soap looks at him confused, he turns around to see what he’s looking at. His stormy blue eyes widen, brows raised and mouth agape when his eyes meet yours. He scans you up and down, seeing the silky blue dress cascade down your body, his voice is stuck in his throat.

“You look stunning…” Price states as he moves past Soap, who is standing there like a gaping fish. “Thank you…” you whisper, Price smiles as he brings you into a gentle hug. “I wish this was on different terms” he chuckles as he pulls away, hearing Laswell protest at to hug, saying he will muck up your outfit and hair. “Yeah, but hey. Hopefully after this it will be different next time.” You joke, as you look around the group. Ghost nods to you, his eyes full of admiration, amazement even. “You look amazing!” Gaz calls out, walking over, holding you by the shoulders, looking you up and down. “Thanks” You laugh gently, pushing his shoulder gently. You look over Gaz’s shoulder, eyes meeting Soap’s. A blush spreads from your cheeks to your ears as you see him look you up and down, but still keeping his eyes on yours after his full body scan. He’s still gaping at you like you’re an angel, some mythical creature sent down to guide him. “Didn’t know you owned a suit.” You chuckle when you walk up to him, smiling softly, trying to ignore all the butterflies fluttering around your stomach and chest. The clenching of your chest, the lump in your throat.

Soap shakes his head gently as he blinks quickly, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. “I-… I… Steamin’ Jesus” he breathes out, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You look bloody beautiful, Lass” he states quietly, his hands coming up to gently cup your cheeks. Looking into your eyes, you can see the tornado of emotions in his eyes. Adoration, awe and even devotion spills from him. Your hands gently wrap around his wrists, you lean into his touch, letting the quiet moment sink in. Everyone else knows you need to ground yourself before this, allowing you to ground yourself with the person who is going to be by your side for most the night is what you do. Your eyes flutter closed as you let out a sigh, Soap leans his forehead on yours, careful to not ruin your hair or makeup. “You can do this Lass, you’re strong, you know you can do this.” He whispers, his eyes scanning your features, the gentle blue and black dusting your eyelids catching his eye. You open your eyes again, trailing from Soap’s shoes up to his face, meeting his ice blue eyes. “Ready?” He asks, not pushing you to answer. “Yes Sir.” Soap chuckles at your answer, he kisses the crown of your head before pulling away.

You turn around, Soap’s hand lands on the small of your back. “You two ready?” Price asks, approaching you two. He got a small black velvet box in his hand. You look down at it when he hands it to you, it’s a pair of blue and silver earrings. They are crawler earrings with a small blue gemstone hanging down, meaning they wrap up and around your ear. A small microphone and speaker tucked close on the inside of your ear, concealed inside the jewellery. “Yes sir.” You state, you take the earrings as put them one, Soap helping with the clasp. “Can you hear me, Love?” Ghost speaks through the Comms, you can hear it crackle to life, it is faint as it is not right in your ear. “Yeah, a bit faint.” You state, Laswell explains that you can’t have an ear peice or you could get called out.

“Right, let’s get this done.” Price states, Gaz is ready with the keys. Ghost ready with his Rifle strapped to his back. “Good luck and happy hunting” Laswell states as she sees you all off, nodding to you. Soap opens the door for you, helping you get in the SUV and not get the dress caught on anything. You’re between Ghost and Soap, in the middle seat. A bit of a tight fit but that’s fine. Your hand is wrapped tightly around Soap’s, your other hand playing with your clutch. Price is in the front seat, Gaz driving.

——

Ghost got out of the SUV half a block away down a back street, quickly getting to the roof of a building. You stayed in the middle seat, leaning onto Soap, now playing with his fingers as you focus on getting your Italian accent on point. Then the car stops, your heart is racing, you can feel a drop of sweat trail down your back when you spot the high security outside the large building. Most of it glass, marble pillars can be seen just past the doors, money flaunting jackass clearly too stuck up to notice how exposed the building is. “You’ve got this, we will be there as soon as something goes south.” Price states, turning around placing a hand on your knee. You nod, smiling softly.

Soap leads you to the security check in, anxiety thumping in your chest, heart beating against your ribs. You can see Soap’s fingers twitching to hold you close, but he goes against it. You swallow down the acidic feeling in your throat, breathing deeply and channelling the personality of a spoiled woman of a mafia boss from Italy.

“Name and ID” a large man states, around the same height and build of Ghost. His accent is thick, Russian. “Claudia Volta” you state confidently, sass and the ‘daddy’s little girl’ attitude spilling off you in waves. You hand over your ID, your picture and the fake name printed on the card. The man looks you up and down, his eyes glancing over to Soap who has a blank but serious face plastered. “ID Sir” the security man asks, his hand held out for the ID. “Oh, he’s just a bodyguard. Papa wanted him to come with me, I said no but he insisted.” You talk sweetly, Italian accent sticking. “I still need his ID ma’am.” He insists, you can tell he’s trying to keep his eyes off your chest. You’re leaning towards him, hand dancing up and down his arm, your chest in his line of sight. “He’s not important, he’s just going to be with me all night.” You speak into his ear, pressing up against him. “O-Okay, Here you go ma’am” he states as he hands back your ID. You smile sweetly up at him, thanking him.

Ghost is watching the scene unravel through the scope, scanning the area, his jaw clenching when he sees the guard clearly look down at your chest. Soap himself is fighting the urge to bash the man’s head in, choke him out, bludgeon him and tell him how disgusting it is to blatantly stare at a woman’s chest. You want to throw up, feeling disgusting as you feel his eyes still lingering on your form as you walk into the building, Soap close behind you.

Your heels click against the white marble tile, the lights shining down, almost blinding you. Marble pillars line the wide corridor short, leading into a large open multi-storey room. Glass back and front, staircase off to the right, a security guard standing point. A black rope with a sign in many different languages stating ‘Do Not Enter, Private Personnel only’. The cat walks above has glass bannisters, no surprise there, this man wants glass everywhere. The grand staircase in the middle has security lining both sides, the man of the hour is at the top of the stairs. The layout almost reminds you of the Wright’s Bach House.

“This place is huge…” Soap mumbles next to you, looking around subtly. You just nod, eyeing the man you need to pickpocket talking to a group of men and women at the top of the staircase. You’re surrounded by many men and women in fancy suits and dresses, glammed out to high heaven. A shiver runs down your spine when you feel eyes on you, hoping it’s just Ghost watching from his position outside. “Found the target” you say quietly, turning to Soap. The music is muffled by the crowd talking, mingling with drinks in their hands, some fancy finger food. “Aye, we can’t get him immediately” he states, his back is stiff when he weaves through people, trying to avoid any collisions. Your fingers thread through Soap’s, his shoulders relax slightly. “Just stay close, we will get to him soon enough” you whisper into the comms, knowing if you go any closer than you already are you won’t be able to pull off the bodyguard nod rich girl act.

You mingle with a few people, holding a glass of champagne between your fingers, the bitter taste feeling acidic in your throat. Soap lingers, trying to keep up the bodyguard act for as long as he can. One of the women compliments your dress, saying how well it suits you. “Thank you so much” you say, complimenting her in return, you guess some rich people aren’t too bad. “I’ll be right back, going to get another drink.” The lady says, her accent thick, French? Maybe, you’re not sure. You just nod, turning around to bump into someone, almost spilling the drink in your hand. “Oh- I’m sorry.” You state as you look up, heart beat quickening when you realise it’s the man of the hours, the target himself.

“It’s alright. You look Divine Miss…?” He subtly asks for your name, you smile sweetly, trying to make sure to act tipsy. “Claudia, Claudia Volta” the man’s eyes widened at the recognition of the last name. “You must be Mr. Volta’s daughter?” You giggle lightly, shrugging gently. “Yes, that is me. You must be Victor Andreev?” He nods with a pearly white smile, it makes you feel sick. “Yes, that is me. It’s a pleasure to meet you Claudia.” He states, he takes your hand, bowing to kiss your knuckles before standing up. You see Soap clench his jaw and fists, the urge to deck the man running through him like a wild beast. “You’ve got quite a crowd here for this event Mr. Andreev. Questo è fantastico! (This is great)” you state, a hand coming up to feather over his arm.

He’s clearly interested in more than just talking with you. His eyes have barely left your cleavage. Your skin crawls when you feel his eyes rake over your body. “It is quite fantastic.” He says, his hand coming to lay on the small of your back. “Questo è un posto bellissimo. This is a beautiful place you’ve got here Mr. Andreev” you smile, fighting the urge to slap his hand away. “Call me Victor, Love” he smiles, guiding you to the stairs towards what you would assume is the more VIP area of the event. ‘Love’ Disgusting, it sounds like acid when it comes from him. Like a bullet dipped in bleach, burning your skin.

You only ever let Ghost or Price call you love, Gaz defaults to ‘mate’ so there’s no worry there. Then Soap calls you Lass most of the time, barely ever uses your call sign. Barely anyone knows your name, Price and Laswell obviously. Maybe Ghost? He is your Lieutenant after all, he kinda needs to know the ins and outs of his team to a point. But otherwise, Gaz and Soap highly likely don’t know. Which you’re thankful for, cause god did you hate when people call out your name.

You glance over your shoulder towards Soap, who is making his way towards you, his eyes blazing with anger. “Where are we going?” You ask, feeling a shiver go down your spine when you feel Victor pull you close by your waist. His large hand feels disgustingly warm, making you feel like something is wrong. “Just out to the balcony, Is that your bodyguard behind us?” He asks, turning to look at Soap. You can see the dark look in Victor’s eyes, his smile faltering a little. “Yeah, Papa insisted on me having one this evening.” You sigh, leaning into Victor, playing the tipsy daddy’s girl. “Right, well he should know you’re safe with me.” He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear. You hear the faint sound of Ghost and Soap talk into the Comms. “What are you doing Joker…” Ghost mumbles down the Comms, the pillars blocking his view. “Lass, I’ve been cut off from you.” Soap growls, you see him getting stopped by the security guards on the stairs. “I just need to talk to him for a moment… if that’s okay?” You ask, your hand coming to lay on the man’s chest, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Oh, Of course. Don’t take too long…” Victor states, his hand lingering on your waist as you make your way back down the stairs, pulling Soap off to the side. Excusing yourself and him from the security guard.

You’ve tucked yourself just by the staircase, out of view from Victor. Soap looks down at you, hands twitching to put his hands where Victor’s were, wipe away the disgusting feeling that would be sticking there. “If something goes wrong, I’ll call you. I’ll get myself out of there, Ghost won’t be able to see me. Laswell is watching the cameras. Trust me Soap…” You whisper, your hand lingers at the junction of his forearm and elbow. “Alright, I’ll be at the bottom of the stairs waiting. Okay Lass?” He states, his hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face. You nod, a small smile on your lips. You walk back to Victor, seeing him eyeing you up and down again. “Stay safe, Love…” You hear Ghost state down the comms, you nod your head slightly, knowing Ghost is watching you closely.

Victor wraps his arm back around your waist, bringing you to the balcony, holding you a bit close for comfort. The chill in the air hits you like a rock. Victor notices you fight off a shiver, he smirks to himself, his mind turning to the dark corners. You turn around in his grasp when you lean on the railing, he’s caging you in with his arms. A small smirk on his lips, you can smell his cologne, it’s strong, sickly strong. Your chest is pushed up against his, your backside pushed up against the glass railing. “Finally have you to myself darlin’, you cold?” He states, his eyes darkening. His face is close, you can feel his breath on your cheeks, your lips. “Just a little, nothing I can’t handle.” You whisper, trying to control your breathing, you know where this is leading. No one else is out here, no one can see out on the balcony, apart from the two security guards at the entrance of the balcony.

Victor’s large hand grips your thigh under your dress, thankfully not the thigh witht he knife. Your hands glide up his chest, slinking under his jacket. You look at him through your lashes, moving your hips to meet his, you can feel the hard-on in his pants. It makes you feel gross, violated almost. Victor licks his lips, you swallow the urge to gag when he smashes his lips against yours, a rumble of a groan leaving Victor’s throat. He hikes up your thigh, your leg resting on his hip, you play into the role. Moaning softly when he grinds into you, your stomach twisting into knots of disgust.

You don’t want your first times to be taken by this man, you subtly feel his suit pockets for the USB Stick. You feel the small device in the pocket on the inside of his jacket. You sneakily slip your hand into he pocket, acting like you’re slipping his jacket off. His lips trail down your neck, biting gently and licking. You glance over his shoulder, holding the USB in his hand. You eyes catch Soap’s, he has managed to sneak past the security, knocking the ones by the door out quietly. He sees the fear in your eyes, he’s quick to act. Kicking the glass open, grabbing Victor by the back of his shirt, ripping him off you.

“You disgusting bastard!” Soap growls out, throwing the man to the ground. You let out a deep breathing, fixing your dress. Hiding the USB in your dress, you quickly pick up the clutch from the ground. Victor is stumbling to his feet, hands grazed, jacket half off, hair messy. “What the fuck…” Victor growls out, he looks up at Soap, who is fuming. Jaw clenched, fist’s ready to strike as he stomps towards the man. “You’re a fucking disgusting man! Don’t ever lay your hands on a woman again!” His Scottish accent comes out strong when he’s angry. “John…” You whisper, your hand wrapping around his arm, gently tugging him towards you. “Now Ghost” you state, a deep wet thunk sounds out. Victor crumbles, knees buckling and head hitting the ground. Blood pools on the floor, a dark crimson hole marks the man’s forehead. Ghost managed to change buildings as soon as he heard the conversation about the balcony, Price took Ghost’s old spot.

“Good shot L.T” Soap states, his arms wrapping around you tightly. Tucking your head into his chest, his nose nuzzled into the crown on your head. “Let’s get out of here” you mumble, gripping Soap’s jacket tightly. He guides you past Victor, keeping you up against him. He guides you past everyone and security, it just looks like a drunk woman and her guard guiding her back home.

Gaz is ready with the car, you slide into the back seat. Soap sliding in next to you, you let your head lean back against the headrest. Gaz sees the look in your eyes when you get in the car, the anger on Soap’s face as he drives away. You pick up Price who looks at you, with a small nod, knowing how hard this was for you. When Ghost gets in the SUV, you can see he’s tense, his hands in fists when he gets comfortable next to you. You sigh, leaning into Soap, your hand lays on top of Ghost’s. The ride back to base is quiet, filled with tension, thick enough to slice with a butter knife.

——

You immediately ran to the shower, leaving your heels in the car, ripping the hair pins and hair ties out of your hair. Soap and Ghost were talking, your heels hanging from Soap’s fingers by the ankle straps. Price told everyone just before they got on base to meet at the briefing room tomorrow morning, you gave Price the USB before you got out of the car. Gaz went with Price to help with finding whatever else is on the USB.

You rip open your drawers, grabbing the makeup wipes that Laswell gave you, aggressively wiping at your face. You throw the dirty wipes in the bin, shaking out your hair quickly. Your hands fiddle with the back straps, the interacte weaving and tying of them getting on your nerves. You yell in frustration, slamming your chest of drawers shut. You dash out of the bathroom, the dress floating behind you as you dash down the corridor, knowing that Soap and Ghost are on their way to the showers anyways. Yes you’re the only girl on the Task Force, you were lucky enough to get the one room with an attached bathroom. Tears of frustration pool in your eyes, just as you were about to reach the doors of the building, Soap and Ghost walk through. You let out a heavy breath, you immediately walk up Soap, leaning your forehead against his chest. His hands come to rest on your shoulders, confusion written over his face, the anger from before draining from him quickly. Ghost looks at you, his chest aching in a way he hates, he doesn’t understand it.

“What’s the matter Lass?” Soap questions, your heels still in his hand as he holds you close with his free arm. Ghost notices the light red marks on your bed, you were trying to undo your dress but not being successful. Ghost’s hand hovers over your back he can already see how tense your back and shoulders are, his eyes looking over all the small scars littering your back. “Is it your dress?” Ghost asks quietly, knowing you can hear him. You nod your head, your forehead still pressed into his chest. Ghost looks to Soap, the Scotsman nods, knowing you just need help, need grounding again. Ghost gently pulls you away from Soap, guiding you gently to your room. Soap follows behind, dropping your shoes by the end of your bed, grabbing a change of clothes for you. He chuckles when he spots the shirt he lended you a while ago, the sweat pants you stole from Gaz a few months back for winter are still in good condition, surprisingly from how much you wear them.

Ghost gets the shower running, you seated on the toilet, lid down. Your face in your hands, gripping your hair. “Joker…” Ghost says softly, looking over at you from his spot by the shower, his hand feeling the water. His gloves are on your bed, along with his tactical vest. You look up at him, eyes dull. He dries his hand on the soft towel that’s hanging by the shower, he crouches down in front of you, his eyes finding yours. Soap enters the bathroom, moving around Ghost, placing the spare clothes on the bench by the sink. You’re still in the dress, he watches the silent conversation exchange between you and Ghost. You nod your head softly, standing up and leaning into Ghost, his arms wrapping around you softly. His cologne comforting you, Ghost nods to Soap who is leaning against the bathroom sink.

Soap pushes himself off the bench, his hands gently touching your exposed back, his hands warm. He’s working on the ties of your dress, pulling them gently. You sigh when you feel the dress loosen, your arms holding the blue fabric to your chest, hiding yourself from them. Soap runs his hands up your back, removing the necklace and unclamping the earrings, he kisses the top of your head, knowing this helps with grinding you. He moves away, he walks into your room, placing the earrings and necklace on your chest of drawers. Ghost pulls away, keeping his eyes up analysing the plain white shower curtain. You turn around, your back to Ghost, his hands combing through your hair, getting the stray few clips out of your hair. There’s been no talking this whole time, just silent comforting looks, touches.

Ghost’s hand slides down your back, he leans his forehead against the back of your head, his eyes closed. “If you need anything, Johnny and I are just outside the door.” He mumbles, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder through the balaclava. He’s pushing his own comfort to help comfort you, keeping his hands on your longer than normal, kissing your skin is new. You melt in his touch and Soap’s, their kisses leaving warmth run through your body, comfort and grounding. You have never felt as grounded before as you have when they take their time to help you, gentle touches and whispered words.

He leaves you to shower, shutting the door softly. He picks his vest up from the bed, shoving his gloves into his jacket pocket. “Is she alright?” Soap asks quietly, looking at Ghost with furrowed brows, a frown forming on his face. Ghost stares at Soap for a moment, mind fumbling with his words, trying to find an explanation. Soap can see that Ghost is thinking, his eyes focusing on the floor. “She’ll need time…” he finally mumbles out, his chest hurting with what you must’ve been thinking, the fear, the anxiety—the dread of being unable to do anything.

——

You lay in your bed, regretting the decision to tell the boys to go to their rooms. Your hands are clammy, your hair sticking to your forehead as a cold sweat drips down your brow. Eyes wide as you lay on your side, back to the wall, eyes scanning your room, barely any light seeping in from under the door and the gap in the curtains. Your chest hurts, and aches, your jaw is clenched, your goddamn teeth hurt from the tension. Tears sting your eyes as your hand grips the sheets by your head, you kicked the blanket off some time ago, the pillow pushed into the corner. You bury your face into the mattress, pushing yourself up onto your knees and you stare at the photo frame next your bed. You and the team, a photo you secretly took with Gaz’s help. You clamber off your bed, quietly opening your door, peeking your head out to make sure no one else was up and about. It was nearly midnight, surely no one else was up and about.

Your bare feet pad across the concrete, you hesitantly stand in front of Soap’s room. Hands shaking by your side as you try to pick up the courage to knock, but your running mind comes to halt when you hear the soft sound of a door clicking shut. Your head snaps up to the sound, you stare at the source of the sound. There stands the Lieutenant, he’s walking towards you, hood up. You lower your head, turning to face him, your fingers play witht he seam of the sweatpants. Ghost stands in front of you, his boots in your line of sight, he doesn’t do anything. Just standing there, letting you decide what will happen.

You look up at him, noticing he’s just wearing a plain balaclava, similar to the one you wear when you go for walks around base at night. No dark paint surrounds his eyes, it reminds you of the night he joined you outside. Ghost tilts his head towards Soap’s door, you just nod your head gently. You step to the side, Ghost knocking on the door. You hear the grumbled curses on the other side, shuffling and a groan. You look up at Soap when he opens the door, eyes barely open, hair tousled. He’s shirtless but has a pair of black sweatpants on, he looks from you to Ghost, looking back at you. Your eyes say it all, he opens the door wider, motioning for you to come in. You pause when you step into his room, turning back to look at Ghost, he was about to walk away when you grab his arm, his hands still in his pockets. “Please…” you whisper, Ghost and Soap look at each other, confused and concerned.

You gently tug on Ghost’s hoodie, Soap has made his way back to his bed, not caring what you do. He lays on his back, arms behind his head, as he lets out a deep breath. “Move it Johnny” Ghost’s voice rumbles, causing the Scotsman to flinch. Soap looks at the large man confused, you’re standing in front of him, eyeing the middle of the bed, exactly where Soap is. “God Jesus” he grumbles, moving over. You clamber onto the bed, Soap pushed up against the wall, you tucked into his side. You look over at Ghost who is just sitting on the side of the bed, a small dissatisfied sound comes from you. Soap grabs the large Englishman, pulling him down to cage you both in. “What the hell Johnny” Ghost growls, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “Shut yer mouth and let me sleep.” Soap sneers, his arm wrapping round you. Your head tucked under his chin. Ghost sighs, he turns onto his side, he looks down at you. You’re tucked into Soap, back against his chest, your hands gently grab Ghost’s hand. They run up to his shoulders, your eyes are half lidded, fingers dancing across the edge of his balaclava.

You want to lift the thick fabric, see what he looks like under the shield he wears daily. Ghost leans into your feather light touch, his tension easing. Ghost sighs, his hand coming up to lift the mask, knowing it’s far too dark for you to see his face clearly, you smile when you see him place the mask on the bedside table. Your eyes make out very little in the dark room. You coax him closer, tucking him into you like you are with Soap. Ghost allows it, his nose nudging your neck, arm wrapping around your and Soap. You feel safe, protected and loved being sandwiched between the two men, your hands run your Ghost’s hair, it’s short on the sides, a fade of some sort. Short on top, not as long as Soap’s mohawk but not as short as a buzz cut. It’s soft and silky.

Your mind comes to a mumbled hum, your body relaxing as you let sleep take you.

————

Next Chapter!

#fanfic #cod fanfic #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #call of duty modern warfare #task force 141 #soap fluff #ghost fluff #angst

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inksandpensblog · 7 months

Text

The Box

I'm finally watching the episode! These are my stream-of-consciousness thoughts through my initial viewing. This isn't thought-out refined analysis, these are just the thoughts as I have them the moment they appear in my head.

They're getting better at the 3d running/walking animation.

Green being the one to notice details, like in The Village.

Civilization!

Green only drew one but then he just has three more? Cartoon magic or stickfigure magic? Or just saving time on a meta level.

This looks like a nice little toh that's a white-filled head, they're ALL white-filled heads (all look like freehanded circles though)

For a given value of "white," I guess, but they're all very light colors. And they all have head accessories. Interesting...

Okay it's kinda funny that nobody would talk to them and the truck is right there. Did they think the color quartet were giving handouts or something? None of them stopped to listen long enough XD

Ooh, so these are some kind of simulation chambers? Looks like they've simulated a desktop art program.

Hmm, so Orange's ability to just have whatever he wants manifest into existence with the stroke of a pencil is unique to him; these guys try the same motions and all they get are regular lines. (Also if Orange can do all that outside then why are they doing these experiments in the simulation chamber? Is it just for safety or can they not do it outside? Shady could use his toolbar outside just fine...)

Orange's drawings were alive, almost from the first line it seems. Before they even took their shape. These ones aren't.

I don't like how coldly they're treating my boy :(

you.

and then they don't even interact?? okay, so...Victim is pretty single-mindedly focused on whatever is about to happen with Chosen, and whatever it is doesn't involve Orange so Orange is irrelevant to him rn. Why bind him then? Where's he going? :(

he went in. by himself. I'm...not sure how to feel about that. surprised? it's not like the thing had a door. though looking at that control-display, it does look like there's something within the chamber itself that's also containing Chosen. Or is that just the bounding box? I think it's a bounding box actually. So this is also a simulation chamber. (this is giving me all sorts of questions about how the artboard recognizes the toolbar icons as graphics while the tools still retain their functions as tools and I'm gonna stop before I spiral)

oh, it did have a door

WAITAMINUTE why is Victim's bounding box 2d and Chosen's 3d???

...oh. so...Chosen's fire registers as a separate graphic from him, then. good to know??

wait what the- just altering the visual is enough to affect his ability in producing that power??

why did we just cut to the hunter sharpening their spear? don't like that. not while you're stealing all my boy's natural defenses.

that one lingering second after Chosen's lasers die out but before he turns around to face Victim is haunting. Bro's been trapped and depowered again.

Okay nitpick but Victim's head isn't changing shape every frame and it's driving me up the wall. Did he have some work done between the last installment and this one?

I can't tell if I'm supposed to laugh or not at Chosen just standing there and tanking all of Victim's hits, and honestly I like that I can't tell, the dissonance is fun. But putting that aside...Chosen just let the dude have at him like it was no big deal. He didn't actually fight back until he decided he'd had enough. I suppose he could've just been confused about why this guy was attacking him...but he doesn't even block or dodge. He doesn't defend himself, his hands aren't even up, he's not even really in a fighting stance, and it takes him a bit to even retaliate. Even after the first one, his body language is just "bruh why." Which. Is an interesting attitude to have when he's trapped and depowered and being punched by a stranger.

Chosen finally counters, and it cuts to the control panel outside, looks like they're about to raise some setting. I've gotta take a break for a meeting, here's my thought: Victim never left the art program, in AvA1. In a very literal sense, he spent his whole life in it. It's where he found all the things that enabled him to fight back. In a weird way, it makes sense that this is where he's powerful, that this is where he's comfortable fighting. (and I know my personal headcanons are about to get blown outta the water but I'm really glad that I was on the right track in regard to this idea. though something I hadn't ever imagined was that he'd rely on other people to supply those advantages instead of obtaining them himself)

Meeting over, back to the episode! (I wonder if the title of this episode refers to the white chamber Chosen is in or the actual bounding box. Given that the mere appearance of a bounding box in Wanted was enough for many of us to clue in to Victim's involvement, even before he appeared in-person at the end of the episode, I'm leaning that direction. Amazing that it only happened once in the series before Wanted and it was already enough of a legacy to make him recognizable. I'm now realizing that in AvA2 the first thing Chosen did even before attacking the cursor was destroy the bounding box. Also realizing that the bounding boxes in this chamber aren't visible, unlike in the test-chambers in the previous scenes.)

interesting...each of Vicitm's limbs are separate graphics with their own bounding boxes, which is how they looked in the Bloop animation course that Alan made, but it isn't how he was in AvA1. Though he was recognized as a single graphic just a few scenes ago, so that might not mean anything.

why, stop, dude we get it you're strong now you've proved your point stop beating him up-

oh good Chosen's still got his own strength, he's fighting ba- what- okay what, can't take what you dish out??

Ooh, I don't think we've seen Chosen actually throw fire like that (instead of just blasting and halting blasts) since the early episodes.

okay, nice to know that Victim actually can dodge on his own

...don't like how little time it took Chosen to start feeling exhaustion...

...don't like how much trepidation the lasso is giving me. that feels like one of the crueler things to use against Chosen; not because we've seen it used against him before (only Victim and Orange have used it themselves, and only Victim has had it used against him, and good grief Orange and Chosen still don't know how Victim is connected to Alan-) but just because...I really don't want him bound and leashed again, he's been through enough of that. still, I had predicted that we'd see him using the lasso at some point in AvA6. I'm not happy I was right. (man, back before we knew Victim would make a proper return to the series I used to love the idea of him using it again. it's like the clearest example of him outwitting the animator and taking his tools for his own use.)

NOT THE NECK- they've never gone there, I don't like this-

oh what they actually- I was not expecting that. whips haven't appeared in the series before. oh I really don't like this.

God he's crawling back- why-

I had to pause. either the group outside just did something with the controls that Victim wasn't anticipating, or...Chosen felt threatened enough to turn his powers on himself and encase himself in ice as a defense. fuck. someone get him out of there. no flight, can't fight, man was pushed far enough he literally resorted to freeze. The Chosen One. I don't think that's ever happened before.

Fuck, that's just too much, I can't even bring myself to feel excited about seeing the duplicates again. though it is good to know that my headcanon about him needing to be in an art program in order to duplicate himself ended up being accurate. we'll see if my headcanon about it being one Victim with five bodies (as opposed to being five Victims) holds up. if they even have a way to show any difference.

[sighs, pulls AvA1 up in another tab] yep, they're all there. lasso, hammer, extended thumbtack (though it doesn't look like a thumbtack here, which is interesting), whatever that chain-accordion thing is, and the ninja star. why are you doing this? man literally froze himself immobile to get you to stop torturing him, just leave him be.

...haHAHAHA! Oh that felt good, that made me smile. Hopefully this means Chosen has recuperated a bit.

the animation of Victim on fire was so nice I completely missed Chosen breaking the ice XD going back to catch that made me realize that the other Victim duplicates literally just...stood and watched the one burning...

don't let yourself get backed into a corner-

OH he escaped the hold, nice-

I didn't realize until the lasso came back that he'd gotten rid of it when he broke the ice :( but before that he actually uses his fire-breath again, which is always nice to see. interesting to see it concentrated in a thin stream instead of just roaring out like usual.

oh yikes why- him on fire-

...don't do it, man...

OH HE OWNED THAT, LET'S GO!!! Great thinking, Chosen! (heh, nothing about this situation remotely resembles that time Chosen grabbed the cursor and forced it to click him free, but I was reminded of it nonetheless. something about the tool being turned against the user, but in such a different way than Victim does it.)

OH HE- ...oh...I was gonna say oh he learned, he adapted enough that he predicted them flipping his fire and he used that- but then they just nullified it immediately...

Victim don't snap the rope like that, we don't need any more implications we already know you're planning to put him in a world of hurt, why can't you just leave him alone now, what are you trying to prove

hh, back to Orange I guess...

MATH SPOTTED, MATH SPOTTED-

oh! they're bringing him to the- okay that makes sense, if it only works when he does it then obviously the next step to figuring it out is gonna involve him.

wait was he- could he not move when the bounding box was picked up?? (also neat that he immediately got worried once he realized he's in a bounding box, dunno if that's because of what happened in the last episode or if it's just because...he spends a lot of time in an art program so he'd naturally be familiar with what they can do and what it means to be inside one)

...well, nice that they at least get his attention before picking him up

oh now you're being friendly, sure. yeah Orange ain't having it.

okay, [picks up pencil] [instant notetaking] was funny XD

aaw, it's swimming around him

oh it knows what the eraser means

...wait it wasn't an electric eel in the last episode-

hexagons- and the power flickered

okay Orange stumbling around trying to stay out of its way makes it clear that he isn't controlling this thing once he's finished drawing it, it's acting on its own. it...it really feels distressed.

hah, they're all cowering. losers.

oh, back to this.

...did you have to make it so personal, Victim?

a chair

...okay not sure why that happened, could Chosen not just...lean forward? I rewound to watch it again and realized he's exhausted again after the slow-mo ends (is that from the slow-mo itself or just his exertion from the fight before the slow-mo?) and he...doesn't even struggle when Victim lifts him by hand with a lasso to the neck. is...is he just ragdolling now? is he at the point where that's his best option for minimizing conflict?

...he is. he's ragdolling. fuck. (damn you cc!Alan for introducing ragdolling in a comedic short-)

...no? no what?? no, he doesn't know anything about the animator? (which we know isn't true, but why would he deny that?) or no, he isn't going to answer?

don't tie him up, please...

oh now he starts struggling?

...back to ragdolling. good grief, the way they animate his legs just swinging even though they can still touch the floor...

...heh, I appreciate his spirit, especially at this point, but...Chosen you kinda just put yourself in a worse position.

...oh, what is that? I don't think we've seen anything like that before. It's got the floppy disk that's used as the "save" icon in many applications, but it looks kinda like a headset.

...a VR headset specifically, I guess.

OH WHAT- okay rad animation, but WHAT

...oh fuck, I've always wondered if there was a way to see the data that would be a stick's memory. FUCK what are they gonna use this for

wait they're bring Orange here?! Or are they just passing on their way back to the cell? but why are they going back to the cell, was the eel too much for them??

...wait, what? signal lost, I assume because Chosen dislodged it enough to disconnect, and then...instead of picking up where it left off it jumps all the way back to Showdown?? was...was Showdown just on Chosen's mind? or is this the memory of him recalling it right before flying to alanspc to entreat Orange's aid? ...or...are memories from beyond the sky-barrier not compatible? that doesn't make sense...

what's with everyone's reactions to Second's powers?

...I forgot Orange's cell is in here. whoops.

oh this is how he finds out??

hands first ("I did that??") and then his eyes ("Chosen was right??")

...and of course. I expected they'd lock him down with extra security as soon as they realized, but. poor guy.

(dammit I purposefully refrained from making a "dark mode" joke, you didn't have to go and put it on the damn control screen)

...and even after that (which, judging by Victim's reaction, even he hadn't known about Second's powers), the animator is still Victim's priority.

oh, this isn't just any clip of the cursor's involvement in Showdown, this is specifically while Yellow was rendering the cursor in.

and then they immediately pan to Yellow which means that observation is actually gonna be relevant, FUCK-

OH FUCK THE WANTED POSTERS

("earnings growth," so they actually do have a business element to them)

aaand the security cameras caught them peeking out of the truck, they literally just started printing the posters and they've already located Yellow-

that fight is mesmerizing. we haven't seen one like this before, as far as direction and setting. plus it's really interesting to see how the four respond. I might look deeper into that later. also that was a cool transition.

and Yellow is dragged off. The story has never had one of the quartet singled out in-universe by the plot like this before. they aren't even apprehending the others.

...of all the sticks to have a lighter, I never thought it would be Victim.

to be continued. good grief.

I have to eat before work so I'll think on all this and say more later.

#animator vs animation #ava the box #animator vs animation spoilers #ava6 spoilers #ava 6 spoilers

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