#Helps I work in a wealthy area too but god damn the love I see every day is genuinely healing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Andy Cavenaugh

(My shitty gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Living in the middle of the desert was an interesting experience. You’d lived in the same home since you were born and yet there were still occupants of your town that you’d never seen or met; even though there was only a meager population of under 50.

- It was the sheer size of your state that did it. Everyone lived miles away from each other and any shop that was considered to be “nearby” was still at least a thirty minute drive so you only ever went into town a couple times a month. Which is how you met Andy.

- You’d driven into town with a list of supplies you’d needed and a wallet full of that months savings, ready to get your stuff and go as quickly as you could; hoping to get home before the sun rose all the way and baked you alive.

- Coincidentally, Andy was in town at the same time, loitering around the store you were attempting to shop at. You paid him no mind and went about your business until you were ready to check out.

- Once the shopkeep had rung you up, you found that you didn’t have enough money for all the things on your list and reluctantly told the man to keep something as he helped you pack up what you could afford.

- Andy watched the entire interaction from somewhere behind you as he pocketed whatever he felt like. Once you headed towards the doors of the building, he picked some cheap thing off the shelf and went to the checkout, watching you as you packed up your car.

- While the store clerk was preoccupied with the cash register, the boy snuck whatever you’d left behind into his jacket and waited another few moments for the man to hand him his actual purchase before he made his way outside.

- You were just about to get into your car when he came up to you, greeting you casually before he held out his hand and offered you the thing that you’d left behind. You looked at him in surprise before you thanked him and took it, shifting it to your other hand so that you could offer him yours in a handshake.

- The two of you introduced yourselves and he asked if you’d be interested in going out sometime. Since all you knew about him was that he was attractive and sweet enough to “buy” you the thing you couldn’t afford, you agreed and wrote down your number for him, telling him that it was nice meeting him and saying goodbye before you drove off.

- He calls you a couple days later while out with his friends, a little liquid courage in his system and a bit of peer pressure from his buddies leading to his wonderful decision making.

- You’re clueless and he thinks his friends will stick to their word of “heading out before you show”, which obviously doesn’t happen. You arrive and they’re still there, almost immediately inviting themselves to what was supposed to be your first date and making the night rather uncomfortable at times.

- You can tell that your date is just as uncomfortable as you, but that doesn’t exactly make things any better. By the time the night ends, you’ve already decided that you’re probably just gonna count your losses and find a potential boyfriend elsewhere.

- But fate seems to be on Andy’s side because the two of you find yourselves face to face a few days later. He gives you an apology, explaining everything before telling you that he’d like to see you again.

- It takes you a minute to decide but you finally agree and tell him that you’ll give it another shot, bringing up your own idea for a date in hopes that you won’t be bothered by his buddies again. He gives you a wide smile, asking when he should pick you up and thanking you genuinely just before he leaves.

- So, for your second date; though you like to consider it your first, the two of you go to whichever place you chose and wind up having a really nice time. He seems to be on his best behavior but his real personality shines through as well; and it’s one that you really enjoy.

- You probably give him a kiss on the cheek as a goodnight but the two of you share your first real kiss on your next date. You’d spent pretty much the entire night together and wound up parking off on the side of the road to stargaze for a while.

- You were leaning against the hood of his car with him, looking up at the sky before your gaze shifted to the man beside you. He was preoccupied with watching the stars, leaving you to let your mind wander.

“I’m glad we gave this another shot.” You said and watched as his focus shifted to you instead.

- He gave you a smile and told you that he was too before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

- Congratulations, you caught yourself a firebird in the middle of the desert.

- Andy really doesn’t give a shit about how other people feel like 80% of the time, and he’s just a fan of affection in general, so there’s going to be a lot of Pda in your relationship; if you’ll allow it.

- Handholding. He likes keeping you close to him and making sure that you aren’t getting into any dangerous trouble; especially if you’re around his friends. Although he does wear his gloves a lot so; even though he gives you the occasional reassuring squeeze or strokes his thumb across your knuckles, you’ll most likely be feeling leather more than his skin.

- If someone’s kissing a face, it’s you. His lips are for your lips only, he doesn’t bother touching them to anything else; though he does enjoy when you kiss him on the cheek or jaw.

- Deep, slow kisses.

- He calls you honey or baby more than he calls you by your name. And as tough as he likes to pretend he is, he’d love to have you call him by pet names too.

- Cuddling is one of his favorite pastimes; he absolutely loves it. Most of the time, he’ll pull you in, pressing his cheek/jaw to your head and letting you lay right up against him, your head resting against his shoulder or in the crook of his neck.

- A lot of the time, he prefers to be loving in a more reserved way. He tends to show that he cares through his actions and by doing little things to make your life easier. Things like waking up early to put gas in your car or picking up things that you need from the store whenever he’s in town so that you don’t have to go.

- Sometimes, he’ll set up a sentence like he’s about to say something really sweet or you’ll ask him something expecting a cute response and he’ll just say something crude or lewd instead.

“How do I look.” He turns and looks at you, a smile gracing his face.

“Your tits look great.” He replies, barely holding in his laughter.

- He indulges you more than he cares to admit. He might occasionally act like he’s too cool but he’s too in love with you to say no and potentially make you sad.

- Tv dates. There ain’t shit else to do.

- Cruising around in his firebird; and sometimes parking somewhere to makeout.

- Going on road trips or long outings. There isn’t a whole lot to do in your town so you’ll occasionally take the long ride over to the next town in hopes of finding something fun.

- He’ll never tell you that he does but he always dodges potholes and bumpy areas during these trips so that he doesn’t wake you up while he’s driving.

- Driving out to the middle of the desert with a bundle of blankets to watch the sunrise; or stopping on the side of the road during one of your trips.

- Sitting with him while he works on his car.

- Going out into the desert to shoot or smash random junk. Vases, porcelain, tin cans; stuff like that.

- Playing pinball and other convenience store arcade games.

- Every now and again, he’ll get some money from his pops and take you out to a nice dinner; especially if it’s after the two of you are pushed into doing something you dont like and he can see that you’re upset. It’s usually because of Sam but he still feels the need to try and make it up to you and make sure that you aren’t gonna ghost him.

“Hey, why don’t we go and get some dinner,” he’ll say, a hint of nervous desperation in his voice as you walk out to his car. “You can get whatever you want. Dessert too.”

- It isn’t clear exactly how rich Andy actually is but it seems like he’s sort of embarrassed to have wealth in such a poor town. Because of this, I feel like he probably wouldn’t mention it and would try to dodge questions that would lead to him exposing the truth, maybe acting like he’s less wealthy than he is until Sam “outs” him and causes an awkward situation.

- Him stealing things for you. You’d much prefer if he just bought them but at least he doesn’t tell you whether or not he’s stolen it most of the time.

- Likes to fool around a lot; he’s rarely ever fully serious and he’s always trying to make you laugh.

- Can quote just about any western film you can name and does impressions of all the characters. He grew up on those sorts of things so he’s practically an expert by now.

- He likes messing with your stuff: putting on your clothes, using your mirror for random stuff, picking things up off your dresser and toying around with them, etc.

- My god, the change of character he has when he’s with his friends and you, compared to when he’s with his parents gives you whiplash. It’s hilarious seeing him lie and act like an angel during family dinners.

- His dad probably lectures him about manners whenever you’re with them: things like putting his elbows on the table, saying grace, how he treats you, etc. Its pretty amusing to see.

- He seems like a good guy who got mixed in with the wrong people. Sure, he enjoys a little chaos and trouble making like the rest of them but he doesn't like hurting people and you can tell from the way he acts afterward that he isn't proud; especially when you give him a look in the middle of the situation and sober him up.

- You’re dragged along with him and the boys a lot; or he’s forced to ditch you to hang out with them whenever Sam calls.

- Sam flirting with you. You know damn well that he’d make you compliment him or get you to agree with his praise of himself; and Andy would be miffed but unable to do anything besides listen to him while his knuckles whiten on his steering wheel.

- There aren’t a lot of people in your town for him to get jealous of but whenever there is, he does. Most of the time, it’s Sam or some flirtatious traveler but other times it’s your celebrity crushes or old boyfriends. He usually just bites his tongue or makes some kind of sarcastic, passive aggressive comment; it depends on who it is and how you’re reacting to them.

- He’s always looking over at you and making sure you’re alright whenever he can; especially when you’re out with his friends. He knows that getting into the trouble that they do can be dangerous and he doesn’t want anything happening to you just because Sam doesn’t know when to stop.

- The two of you get into a lot of arguments but they’re rarely ever serious. You mostly just bicker before the two of you give up and decide that it’s a pointless fight.

- Whenever you do have an argument, one that he causes and upsets you with, he always feels guilty and finds himself unable to stay mad at you. He might not verbally apologize but he will try to make it up to you in some way and tell you that he’s sorry.

- He’s not big on saying he loves you but he does say it on occasion; and definitely shows it more than he says it.

- The two of you probably get engaged on a whim a bit too early into your relationship but he’s promising to take you out of that desert city and along with him to Hollywood so the ring is a nice symbol of that oath.

#andy cavenaugh imagine #andy cavenaugh headcanons #andy cavenaugh headcanon #andy cavenaugh imagines #creepshow 2 imagine #creepshow 2 headcanon #creepshow 2 headcanons #creepshow 2 imagines #80s movie imagines #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanons #80s movie headcanon

40 notes · View notes

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years

Note

Can you please tell us about the whole scenario where MC gets kidnapped and Comte rescues her? The one with the CG I mean.

Sure thing! I’ll do my best to relay the events accurately, as this is one of my favorite moments in his rt~

Sizable Comte rt spoilers below, pls don’t click if you’d like to wait for the ENG release!

Okay so some much needed context before I delve too deep. In the first few chapters of the route, MC debuts in French high society (introduced by Comte as a friend’s heiress from overseas). As such, the better part of the Parisian population knows MC as somebody of noble birth. This is important moving forward.

One day while she’s in town she goes out with a friend upon request (also of high rank, somebody she met and made friends with at her debut) and Sebas encourages her to have fun before meeting up again to return home. Problem is, there has apparently been a great deal of unrest among the people in the lower rungs of the social ladder. Joblessness has been a prominent issue, and so a group of men decide to target members of the elite in order to force them to give a damn about the problem. In their desperation, they choose to abduct MC and her friend and tie them up in separate locations.

The other young lady’s butler/servant is present when they’re taken, but is unable to do anything to stop them. Surprising no one, he races over to find Sebas and tell him what’s happened. Naturally, Sebas is beside himself and takes the man with him in order to alert Comte. And Comte.........well........let’s just say he does not take the news well to say the LEAST. He hears them out, goes silent and it shows his furious sprite, and he’s about to storm out when Leonardo appears out of nowhere after he says MC’s name raggedly. (Note: not that odd bc purebloods seem to be able to sense each other’s feelings easily, and it’s likely he was responding to Comte’s acute and sudden distress). Leonardo has to grab Comte’s shoulder and tell him to calm down before he collects himself again, and then he leaves with Napoleon and Jeanne to go find them asap.

Iirc, Sebas/the other residents take up the task of alerting the police and trying to find more information while the search party is underway. There is a hilarious tidbit I’d like to share, only because it’s uproarious and makes me laugh every fucking time I translate it fdkhdgdjfsf. So basically they’re all trying to figure out what’s going on, until Sebastian mentions the whole coalition of impoverished people looking to get back at high society for the financial inequities of the historic moment. Now Mozart, in a moment of brilliant word association, says “Oh, well yeah under those circumstances that would make MC the ideal target.” And I fucking. Isaac just turns around and is like. “Could you not. Say it like that. When our dad is hAVING A FUCKING MELTDOWN AND A DISPLACED HUMAN WOMAN IS IN MORTAL DANGER. COULD YOU MAYBE NOT???? JUST THIS ONCE.” And I just fucking lose it every time????? Like are those not the most Mozart-core and Isaac-core responses imaginable????? Mozart being so focused on the logic of the situation he just doesn’t seem to be able to read the room/keep in mind how upset Comte might be. Isaac being HYPERSENSITIVE to the emotions in the room and being MORTIFIED that Mozart wouldn’t word things more carefully.

Also a short note since I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. One parallel between Comte and Isaac I find utterly fascinating is that the two seem to share a formidable understanding when it comes to anxiety especially. Despite how composed Comte appears in the game, we later see more and more evidence of how deeply anxious he is when it comes to his future and the prospect of sudden loss. As a result, I feel like their biggest difference lies in the fact that Comte is a great deal older--so he has an easier time concealing/stifling/de-escalating his anxious responses. Even so, they seem to share difficulty in maintaining emotional distance. If Comte doesn’t exercise control, he gets too close to people, and the inevitable fallout (since they usually die first) is devastating. I think Isaac operates similarly, but his anxiety was so overwhelming he didn’t manage to get that close to most of the people in his time (Essentially, he doesn’t have the same charisma Comte possesses and he hasn’t lost as many people consecutively as Comte has).

Moving right along. So! Comte and our swashbuckling friends (the Baguettes, as I like to call them) pinpoint the location/bunkers where MC and her friend are being kept against their will. (They find them after they receive a tip as to where the two ladies were last seen in town.) I’d like to note that in Comte’s POV of this chapter, he continuously blames himself for everything that’s happened. Saying that if he had been more careful, if he had done the right/smart thing and kept his distance, then she would have been out of harm’s way. (I disagree in that, when trouble seeks to find you it’s usually more a matter of entropy). In the midst of his agonizing, his mind goes to the worst case scenario and he forces the terror down--desperately wishing that he isn’t too late.

So our bois split up into two groups, one being Comte and the other being Napoleon and Jeanne (yes this is Area 51 and Comte literally does Naruto run--but he doesn’t dodge the bullets bc they can’t kill him). Naturally our pureblood wonder manages to take out all the guards present and kicks down the door to where she’s tied up. The moment he sees her relief floods him and he rushes forward, untying her immediately. MC sees him covered in wounds--blood and torn clothing as far as the eye can see--and has a moment of genuine shock. She’s so used to the immaculate and ethereal appearance (not a hair out of place) that seeing him so disheveled and wild-eyed startles her. He asks her if she’s injured anywhere and she’s able to confirm she’s fine. He seems to be unable to register that she’s alright until she says those words, and he draws her close in his arms and starts shaking. She’s surprised again by his sudden proximity, but when she feels him trembling she hugs him back and strokes gently along his back, murmuring over and over again that’s she okay. She feels fine, she’s safe now.

In his POV, he speaks to the terror of her life lost that was weighing on him. He’s only able to verify that she’s alive when he feels her body heat, can feel her heart beat, can feel her arms moving--that’s why he hugs her; to have undeniable evidence that she’s still breathing. He hates himself for being so fragile, for being so needy, but melts under the gentleness of her touch.

Before the scene ends, MC hears his broken mumble at her shoulder: “Thank goodness...I don’t want to lose anyone anymore.”

And just to make it hurt even more! From Comte’s POV it reads (the brackets are his unspoken thoughts):

"I......I don't want to lose anyone.......anymore" [I don't want to lose you... She hugs me back and her hands stroke gently along my back, as if cradling my heart. Her hands are so warm, proof that she's alive. You're so strong.....and so, so gentle. I know I should be prepared to say goodbye. I know I shouldn't be doing this. But I don't want to let you go...]

;-; I just. Every single time I read those lines I just start sobbing. He’s so tired of being alone, so exhausted. He loves her so much!!!!!!! He just wants one moment of PEACE GOD DAMN IT, LEAVE HIM ALONE CYBIRD!!!!!!!!!!!!

ANYWAY the story then skips to the aftermath, where Comte is back to his usual collected self. He’s at his desk doing his work (as usual) when MC comes in asking about how everything's going. He explains that he was able to find work for the people who attacked her, citing once again the concept of “Noblesse Oblige.” (For those unaware, it means “noble obligation” in French and alludes to this notion that the wealthy/privileged parties of society have nothing short of an obligation to use their resources in service to the less fortunate.) MC starts gushing about how both her and the police are really impressed by his ability to forgive them and help them anyway. This is where Comte drops that L E G E N D A R Y line where he says “Forgiven them? I never said I had forgiven them. On the contrary, the only reason I’m doing this is because they left you unharmed.” with that chilling smile.

So like. Get you a fucking mans that has the ability to pretend everything’s fine when you get abducted, beat the shit out of your assailants to free you, have a panic attack after you’ve been secured, and then still manages to have the grace to help the people that put him through his literal worst fear imaginable/re-traumatizing him even if they didn’t know it. This was essentially the scene that made me fall 100% in love with him. It was one of the first moments of profound, undeniable proof that not only does he care about people--he cares so deeply it shakes him to the very core. There’s just something....so moving about the fact that no matter how hard he tries to pretend that he’s distanced from something/someone, beneath that persona you just find a veritable avalanche of compassionate feeling/love.

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp comte #comte rt spoilers #man i wish i could convey how hard this chapter shook me to the core #i think that's why i don't mind the whole hot and cold in the writing of his rt--it really WORKS rather than being annoying af #i mean its so easy to believe he's removed from it all bc he stays quiet #tries not to be irresponsible--tries to be mindful of her situation and respect her feelings #bc the reality is that they have an enormous power and life imbalance #even if he does sincerely love her--and I honestly have absolutely zero doubts he does--being too hasty would be dangerous #esp given what he wants: he's not looking for a fling--he wants somebody to be with for a long long time #but he also knows that his considerable lifespan has given him quicker insight into that #this doesn't make MC stupid by any means--but at twenty-ish there are plenty of things a person has not yet seen or can't yet recognize #honestly? i think his decision to hold off and only decide when MC was sure--when she had seen every aspect of what it means #to be a pureblood--was the most responsible move. even if he was sure of his feelings early on i like that he gives her time #yet i like that his self-control is also less than perfect; i think it proves the dual sincerity of his attraction and desire to protect he #idk if i can explain it adequately but he just feels so balanced; the perfect combination of mindful but also flawed #it's even more interesting to me bc his charisma seem to function on two levels; the first kind he exudes on a basic level #being attentive to what's important to people/replying to letters and keeping in touch/conversing at parties eloquently #its the kind that draws people in initially and can often be what keeps them in his orbit (kind of like with the workers)#the second is so gradual and masterfully honed that it gets to the point where he believes himself to be insidious #though idk if he actually means any harm i'd wager it's more that he knows what he wants deep down and inevitably acts in line with it #its fascinating bc he seems to deem it premeditated and wrong but even he doesn't seem to be openly aware of his feelings until later on #he's insatiable but also capable of recognizing that--tries to tone it down if it goes too far #or at the very least offer MC something in return: all of his love and anything her heart may desire #just as he says he really IS a mass of contradictions sometimes--which explains why he seeks out someone that's firmly grounded #somebody that knows what they want/what's important to them/and can help stabilize him when he gets a little lost #I LOVE HIM IF YOU COULDN'T TELL OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH FROM ME

106 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 5 years

Text

Untouchable 8- Is There A Right Way? [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your feedback my loves, please keep it coming! <3

The previous chapters are on my masterlist<3

Pleasure has a price Bucky Barnes can’t afford. What happens when he falls in love with someone he shouldn’t have?

Summary: “You knew who I was. You knew what I did.”

Characters: Reader x Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2532

Warnings: Mentions of sex work, explicit language, 1940s.

You stared out of the window, keeping your eyes on the busy street behind the half transparent curtain. Taking a drag of your cigarette, your exhaled the smoke in tiny circles dissolving in the air, the water drops from your wet hair slipped down your back.

Then, you heard him shift in the bed.

“Morning Birdie.”

You shut your eyes for a moment, clenching your jaw, then took a deep breath and relaxed your shoulders.

“Morning General.”

“What are you doing out of the bed?”

“I didn’t want to disturb your sleep,” you forced yourself to smile as you looked over your shoulder, “I wanted to smoke.”

“Nonsense,” he motioned for you to come closer and you approached the bed, even if every cell in your body screamed at you to go to the opposite direction. You sat beside the bed, and he pulled you by your upper arm to get you closer, ignoring your hiss of pain when his fingertips brushed over the bruises.

“What do you say I take you out to breakfast?” he asked and your eyes snapped to his before he grabbed his clothes to put them on.

“I’m not much of a breakfast person.” You said, but he scoffed,

“You’ll get hungry on the way,” he brushed you off “Come on, get dressed. I’ll bring the car.”

With that, he put his shoes on and walked out of the room as you rubbed your eyes, then stole a look out of the window almost absentmindedly and froze on your spot.

“God damn it-“ you clenched your teeth as you stared at Bucky’s figure leaning on the wall “Not now, not now!”

You quickly got dressed, then grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled down.

Not now, meet me at 8 in the alley.

You grabbed your coat and your shoes, put them on and made your way downstairs.

“Morning, the General said-“ Thomas started but you shook your head, then put the piece of paper into his hand,

“Can you give it to the man waiting outside? Tall, dark hair, his name is Bucky?”

Thomas’ eyes snapped to yours and a small grin pulled at his lips, “Oh I’m finally meeting your mystery man?”

“Thomas!” you whispered as the General pressed on the honk, “Hurry!”

“You owe me a cup of broth,” Thomas joked and stepped out of the house, while you waited in the hall, still trying to catch your breath. You really didn’t want Bucky to see you with the General for some reason, it made you feel like a hypocrite, as if you were betraying his trust even if he knew what your job was.

A part of you knew he was not as okay with it as he pretended to be, but he was only hiding it from you in order not to scare you away.

The sound of the honk made you startle and you shook your head, then huffed out and stepped outside.

“Come on Birdie!” he called out and your eyes found Bucky as Thomas made his way back to the house and he stared at you before he stole a look at the General, his jaw clenching. You pressed your lips together, then pulled your gaze off him and got in the car.

***

The breakfast place was almost half an hour away, in the much nicer part of the city. Even by the looks of it you knew it was a very expensive place with only a handful of people being able to go in.

And despite that, you would much rather to be in the small coffee house with Bucky.

You shook your head slightly to snap out of it, now was not the time for this. You had to focus on the task you had at hand, which was to make General feel-

Less of a terrible man that he was, you supposed.

“I’ve never been here before,” you told him, as you walked to your seat and he took his seat across from yours.

“Not so surprising, not many people can get in here.”

“Do many people want to?” you asked him and he chuckled,

“Yes they do, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“This is a place important men tend to frequent.” He said and you tried not to roll your eyes, “You can get to know many people-“

“Charles!” a voice cut him off and you turned your head to see an old man approaching your table, older than the General.

“Dave,” he stood up to shake his hand, “How are you?”

“And who is this gorgeous lady you have here?”

“Y/N,” the General said, “This is Dave, he is in the Department of Justice.”

“Oh, very nice to meet you,” you shook his hand as he eyed you up and down.

“Now, you’re way too beautiful for a man like him, no?”

You forced yourself to smile as the General let out a laugh,

“That she is,” he said, as if you weren’t there “There’s no harm in showing what you have, I’m sure you agree with me.”

Oh.

This was why you were here. So that he could show you off.

Like you were a prized pig.

“Maybe so. You will make every man in here very jealous.” He turned to you, “It was a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“You too.” You said, then he walked away.

“They should get used to being jealous,” the General said as you tried to smile, and the waiter approached you.

“Get us my usual, for two.” the General told him before you could even open your mouth to order, and you dug your fingernails into your palms, trying to focus.

Control your anger, it’s not the time, or the place, or the person.

It’s just work.

“Do you come here often then?” you asked airily, “Everyone seems to know you here.”

“They do.”

“How lucky of them,” you forced yourself to say, and he cleared his throat,

“Birdie, I wanted to talk to you.”

Your head snapped up and you felt your heartbeat getting faster, “Oh? About what?”

“I feel like we couldn’t really go over the whole…contract.”

You could feel your jaw clench for a moment before you smiled, “What is there to talk about, General?”

“I know it’s not exactly…what you dreamed of.”

You blinked dumbly, “Hm?”

“I mean, I know you imagined our house, instead of you staying in that dump with the other prostitutes,” he said with a grimace, as if he was above all that, “But I need you to be patient, alright sweetheart?”

“Patient,” you repeated, the mere thought of being in a house with him making the bile come up to your throat, “Oh.”

“It’s wartime, and I need to make my choices accordingly. Priorities and all.”

“I…I see.”

“But once this whole mess is over, we will see about that. I might buy you a house-“

Like a mistress.

“That way it’d be easier for us.”

Exactly like a mistress.

“Then, who knows what the future will bring? You play your cards right, and…maybe something more might happen.”

….Marriage.

He was talking about marriage.

Coldness shot down your spine, waking goosebumps on your skin, but you bit inside your cheek, trying to focus as the waiter brought your orders. You grabbed at the cup of coffee to make yourself look busy and he smirked at you.

“Speechless, Birdie?”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly, “Absolutely. I didn’t- I didn’t think….that.”

“Now, don’t get bratty over that promise,” he pointed at you, as if you were a little girl, “I told you to be patient and I meant it.”

Fuck you, asshole.

“No, of course not.”

“Good,” he said, “Come on now, eat. I have somewhere to be after this.”

You swallowed thickly, then put on a fake smile and grabbed your fork.

***

The breakfast felt like it took ages to finish, and once you were in your room, you were more than relieved that you wouldn’t have to see him for a while. The look in Bucky’s eyes kept flashing in your mind and you pulled at your hair, desperate to relieve the tension in your head.

As soon as the clock showed 8 o’clock, you grabbed your coat and made your way downstairs, but before you could, Thomas stopped you.

“Y/N, wait.”

“Thank you for today,” you told him, “It’s much appreciated, I do owe you.”

“I have something for you.” He whispered, and put the piece of paper into your hand. You frowned at him, then unfolded the paper and took a look at the lines.

It was an address, in a far away street in Brooklyn. If you remembered it correctly, it was one of the not so wealthy areas and you looked up at Thomas.

“What’s this?”

“He looked very-“ Thomas cleared his throat, “He wrote that. He said if you want to see him, you were welcome to do so.”

You crumpled the paper in your hand, biting at your lip and he squeezed your hand in a friendly way.

“He looks like a nice man.”

A bitter chuckle escaped from your lips, “Unlike the General?”

“Unlike the General.” He repeated and shot you a mischievous look, “Younger. Better looking too.”

“Thomas.”

“Go to him,”

You held up the paper, “He’s angry. Couldn’t you tell?”

“He’s jealous,” he corrected you, “Couldn’t you tell?”

You heaved a sigh, and buttoned your coat, “I’ll make your broth later on.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he opened the door for you, “Go ahead.”

You took a deep breath, then stepped outside, took a look at the paper again and started walking.

***

Bucky’s home seemed to be further than you had originally thought. When you reached his door, you still weren’t exactly sure whether you were supposed to knock or not, or whether he actually wanted to see you or not.

Now to think of it, would you have wanted to see him if the situation was reversed?

You pressed your lips together, then raised your fist and knocked on his door before you could change your mind. There was no sound from the other side for a couple of seconds until you heard the footsteps coming closer and the door opened.

His eyes were bloodshot, as if he had been exhausting himself and overall he looked way too tired.

“Are you alright?” you asked him and he nodded slowly.

“You came.”

“You barely gave me a choice,” you stated as you stepped inside and looked around. It was a small but a lovely house, which made you think he had inherited it from his family, seeing that it felt more homely than a single man’s house.

There were pillows, for starters.

So it had to be a woman that had helped him, maybe his sister?

“So,” you took your coat off and walked to the living room to see the scotch and the half full glass on the table, while the record player played a soothing melody that sounded pretty familiar to you, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Why am I here?”

“Not for what you think.”

“Then why am I here?” you insisted, trying to look braver than you felt. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility of him ending this- whatever this was- but even the thought of it made you freeze deep inside.

“Are you going on dates with him?” he walked past you to grab the glass, then downed the drink, “General Richards?”

You should’ve expected that, but somehow, it didn’t make it easier.

“I’ll have you know, it’s quite rude not to offer your guest a drink, Sergeant.”

His eyes narrowed, as if he was ready to insist on an answer but he grabbed another glass and poured you the scotch.

“Thank you.”

“Are you?” he asked again and you took a big sip of the drink.

“No.”

“It sure as hell ain’t what it looks like then.”

“Should I wait for you to be finished with your sarcasm, or will you listen?” you asked him and he shrugged slightly. You licked your lips, suddenly nervous.

“Do you mind if I smoke here?”

“Go ahead.” He croaked out and you sat down on the couch, then pulled out your cigarette and lit it.

“I didn’t want you to see it.”

“I could tell that much.”

“No, Bucky I-“ you shut your eyes for a moment before you opened them and took a drag off your cigarette, “You knew who I was. You knew what I did.”

He stayed silent and you ran a hand over your face,

“I….” you cleared your throat, “In my line of work, there’s this- um,” you took a sip of your drink, "I- I signed a contract. With the General.”

“What contract?”

“I’m not allowed to see anyone else. Or have any clients, or- or have any relationship with anyone else.” A bitter taste appeared in your mouth, “I’m officially his mistress now.”

He gawked at you, “Y/N, he can’t buy you.”

The smile pulling at your lips felt way too painful, “He can.” You managed to say, “He did.”

“But you don’t want him.”

“Yeah well, this world never cared about what I wanted, did it?” you took a sip, “I get to survive. I don’t get to dictate what I want or don’t want.”

He shook his head fervently, “He can’t own you,” he insisted, “Not if- you don’t even want him, a contract or not. And what does- what even does that mean, being his mistress?”

“It’s a try out.”

“For what?”

“Think a bit harder Bucky, I’m sure you will figure it out,” your tone was way too defensive, “You’re clever, after all.”

His stunned silence was enough of an answer,

“Y/N, no.”

“Trust me, I barely had any say in this.”

“No no no, you-“ he sat beside you, “You can’t. He can’t. He’d destroy you-“

“He’d destroy everything,” you said slowly, “And he can do whatever he wants. You know that. No consequences or anything of the sort.”

“What if you left?”

“And do what?”

“You don’t have to do anything, I’d take care of you,” he said hastily, and you cupped his cheek, smiling softly.

“It’s not how it works,” you whispered, “And I can take care of myself.”

“You still don’t trust me.” Bucky said, “You think I’d hurt you if you did.”

You pulled your hand back, and averted your gaze,

“Can we just-“ you downed your drink, “Can we just stay like this for now please? I know you’re angry but- can we?”

He nodded slowly, “Can I hold you?”

His voice was so soft and so sincere that you couldn’t help the smile pulling at your lips and you nodded. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to himself, burying his nose to the top of your head and you held onto his shirt, resting your head right above his heart, listening to his heartbeat before you closed your eyes and inhaled his scent.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered and you blinked back the tears,

“Yeah,” you lied through your teeth, “I know it will.”

***

@rhabakoli @rmwest94 @finnickfoxes @theskytraveler @asongofmarvelanddc @fictionwillneverdie @superwolfchild-fan @marauderskeeper @propertyofpoeandbucky @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lettersofwrittencollective @i-am-always-famished @small-round-and-angry @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @writeyourmindaway @geekandbooknerd @mamaraptor @j-finco @the-omni-princess @supercarricat @anxietysucks @fortisfiliae @jimmysstewart @nea90sweetie @inforapound @theladybiers @aikeji @littledarlinhavefaithinme @marvelgirl7 @to-the-road @starkrobb @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @paramorefold @alytavzla @youclickedthislink @lexlikestoread

#bucky barnes #40s!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #Sebastian Stan #bucky barnes x reader #the winter soldier #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #1940s bucky barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #1940s!bucky

481 notes · View notes

thousandsunnywrites · 4 years

Text

FILE 1: WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF SMILES

⤷ word count: 1,7k

⤷ a/n: there’s no major romantic shet here, but it’s like the foundation of what’s to come

[BLACK LIVES MATTER]

⤷ TRIGGER: mentions of pills & death

“Roronoa, check the mission board.” A stack of papers land right in front of his propped feet, waking him from his light nap. Standing in front of him was no other than the assistant chief, Law. “In two weeks, we’re raiding the SMILES House.”

Yawning, he glanced over, doing as told. Law’s right. After extensive research, their department accumulated enough information to obtain a warrant to bust down this illegal business. Doflamingo is a smart man, he evaded the police’s eyes for years now despite his brother being the chief. His eyes skimmed through the raid team while taking a mental note — Usopp, Chopper, Law, and him, along with a bunch of other extra names. Supposedly, this ambush is the most difficult in the history of the New World Station, errr, at least that’s what Zoro hears in the coffee room.

Chief Corazon-- the name everyone addresses him as, only a select few know his real name-- lead this station ever since the retirement of ex Chief of Police, Sengoku. You and Zoro transferred into this department not long after graduating law school. As Chief puts it, it’s a miracle how you never crossed paths with Roronoa during school-- maybe he just got lost while trying to do so-- because you complement each other so perfectly: you’re academically strong, while he’s strong physically. It’s no hair-puller to know why he’s constantly paired with you.

Zoro’s train of thoughts halts as a very loud, and jumpy girl emerges from the corner, latching onto his arm almost immediately upon seeing him. “Zoro,” you cooed like a little bird, expectantly. Prior to this day, Zoro wagered that it’s easy to drive around while patrolling the area because anyone can do that, and you took him up on his little bet. It was hard, knowing the shortcuts and hidden roads within the area, but it was easy when you get the hang of it. Unfortunately for Zoro, he was blessed with confusing right with left, north and south. Call it whatever you see fit, but you can’t deny it’s like taking candy from a toddler.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” he sighs, bringing out the iconic Starbucks cup, filled to the brim with your favorite coffee, Venti-sized. “Expensive-ass woman. You know how much that cost me?”

“Oh hunny, I know, you’re lucky I’m not asking you to pay for my rent,” you take a sip as Zoro nods along. Yeah, he’s aware of the rent surge for your apartment. That landlord of yours, what’s his name, Bella… Belle-something was a big pain in the ass, charging twice as much to splurge on gambling. He’s heard this rant so many times, he can recite it word for word.

“Y’know if you’re having a hard time with rent, then just leave. Go somewhere else.”

A pout forms on your lips, hand waving animatedly to dismiss his suggestion. “Easy for you to say, you own a house. Besides, it’s the only available one in this area. I don’t wanna go outta town. It’s hard enough to wake up on time in the morning-- what more of waking up 3 hours earlier?” You pinch his cheek, earning a groan from the man. Remind him again why he puts up with you.

“Don’t forget about our first-not-fake-date tonight,” you wink, body shimmying out of excitement. Sometime last night, you concocted the perfect date with Zoro to flaunt in front of Sanji. Zoro is to take you to the nicest park he can find and do a surprise picnic-- not much of a surprise if you orchestrated it-- whilst giving you a necklace with his initials on it-- again, nothing special especially if you’re gonna buy it. Zoro wonders why he’s even letting you use him, but then again, you pay for the propaganda, and he doesn’t have anything better to do. No rent money worries, no girlfriend to tend to, no stress that plagues the average adult.

“Doesn’t sound like we’re dating if you call everything we do a ‘not-fake’,” his lips downturn to a very displeasing frown that marred his big-tough-guy look, while he attempts to pry your clammy fingers off said face. He doesn’t know the first thing about love, but sure as hell he’s not a dumbass.

Law pulls you aside to escort you to the Chief’s office, leaving Zoro to revert his focus back onto his reports, overlooking the new cases. A killer clown running loose, gathering a circus to cause more trouble. Nothing more than clout for a rep.

The Massacre Solider’s, as the media dubbed, killings suddenly halted.

The Revolutionaries protesting and planning a riot downtown against the government, led by the infamous criminal dubbed as Dragon.

Firefighter accidentally sets the workplace on fire after reheating meat for too long. Damn it, Luffy.

“Hey, Zoro!” The familiar long nose approaches him, friendly as ever. “We’re partners today for patrol! Thank god it’s you.” He sobs out the last part, body turning milky white while remembering the horrid flashbacks of almost being shot at by an angry woman for notifying her about her illegally parked car in a handicap spot. The world is a scary place.

Usopp let out a huffy sigh after seeing Zoro’s nose scrunch in distaste. “No offense Usopp but Y/n is and has been my partner,” his arms crossed, gaze not leaving the paper.

The persistent sniper slides next to Zoro, slinging his arm over his shoulder despite the other shoving him off. “Yeah but the chief said that he’s borrowing her for today.”

Great.

It’s not like Zoro dislikes Usopp, it’s not like that at all. It’s just he knows he’s going to babysit the scaredy cat. Amazing how he’s a coward, yet one of the finest sharpshooters he knows. Nobody doing it like him.

The hectic, sharp alarm lights the room red, causing the policemen to spring to action. The once-chattering room fills with the sounds of rapid footsteps, police sirens, incoherent yelling, and the urgent news.

Local wealthy landlord found dead on the street, SMILES cause of death, victim unidentified.

They made it through the yellow tapes and through the crowd with the help of Usopp’s directions, and Zoro instantly remembered that face-- really, how can he forget that face when you constantly bitched about him nearly everyday. That cocky smile never left that bastard’s face despite half of the pearly whites being gone.

It was Belle...

Belle-something.

It was Belle!

He passes by him on the staircase whenever he visits you for nonsense. The medic hoists the mass onto the gurney, and drives off, leaving the remaining team to survey the area.

His colleagues told him that the victim OD’ed on SMILES, but the marimo knew better. Although faint, his sharp eyes can see the smudged trail of blood coming from another area. This isn’t a typical overdose. Belle was dead by the time the team got here. He was murdered somewhere else and dragged into the streets for a show. A declaration. A warning.

In short, he was murdered. And probably from the same guy who started this whole SMILES addiction.

Meanwhile as the news blared in Chief Cora’s office, your heart sunk when the anchor broadcasted the victim’s face after receiving identification for a brief moment. It was Bellemy! Holy Gorgonzolas, that’s your landlord! Crap! As fucked up as it seemed, the only thought that initially crossed your mind was Does that mean I don’t have to pay for rent? More importantly, he’s dead! Not that you feel deep remorse... he did call you a whore last week and scoped your apartment without your permission.

“It’s a message,” Cora puffed on his cigarette, the dim lighting of the room accentuating the smoke, “He knows we’re onto him.”

He ashed his cigarette in his heart-shaped ashtray, before relighting. Paper slid across the table, a confidential report wide open. Attached to the report was a headshot of a man with fancy, bird-eye-like shades.

“His name is Doflamingo. Known as God of the Underworld. Dangerous man,” Cora said dryly, and straight to the point. “That kid that was on TV worked under him. Bellemy.”

Your brows furrow as you flip through the pages, examining the details with careful precision. “So the assets belong to this man?”

“Legally. I didn’t find any contract that says that Bellemy shares this property with Doffy. Doffy must’ve not liked that one of his henchmen opposed his will. We can only assume that his death was the price to pay and to promote the SMILES. Other than that, Bellemy’s apartment lots are illegally owned, so we can also assume that it’s going to be confiscated when the police connect two-and-two together. You get where I’m going with this, right?” His eyes glanced over his shoulder, expecting you to catch on with the elaborative hints he dropped. It took a while, but it clicked.

“And now I’m homeless.” Hands thrown in the air, you sighed in defeat. First it was losing your bike in the walkway, next it was having to sneak in your own office like a burglar for a last-minute report that could’ve cost your job, and now it was being thrown on the streets because you lived and paid for an illegal apartment.

Law interjected your whine with the clearing of his throat. “You don’t have to be.” He was silently watching the events unfold before him, taking in your reactions along the way.

“You can live with us,” Corazon proposed, cutting off whatever Law was going to say. That offer left both you and Law with your jaws hanging wide open. After a second, Law collects himself and musters a very confused what.

“I was going to say to find someplace outside of town to live!” His disbelief coated his every word, and went unnoticed. “Are you sure?”

Cora simply nods, a thumbs up affirming his decision whilst trying to convince you to take up his offer.

“Please,” Cora’s hand found its way to your shoulder, lightly squeezing it. “It’d be beneficial for both you and us. You’re part of the brains of this operation so it’s better to keep you near us. And you did say you’re homeless now.”

He nudges you once more, after seeing your silence. “C’mon, beggars can’t be choosers.”

With that one line, you concede.

You pull out your phone and send a simple text to your date, telling him you’re taking a raincheck to pack up your shit. He never responds. Had you known the consequences of agreeing, you would’ve stayed on the streets if that could mean that he’d still be here.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #police officer! zoro and y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader

29 notes · View notes

toxicpineapple · 4 years

Note

Please give me your amami essay, I'd like to know the TEA! I was also gonna ask for the mastermind essay, but honestly I REALLY wanna hear your thoughts on his characterization (and your thoughts on his shitty fanon characterization)

HOOO BOY OKAY. this is good, it gives me an excuse to procrastinate on reading that new amasai fic on the latest feed. (note that i REALLY WANT TO READ IT, i’m just anticipating commenting and tbh the spoons,,, i lack them. it’s okay though i’ll get over it.)

so!!! let’s start with general attitude, because i think that amami’s is really unique. he’s a subversive character. in general i feel like that was the biggest goal with his character design and personality combination-- he looks like a total playboy, kaede even comments as much moooore than once. but he’s the absolute opposite. i’ll rant about that in a bit. i’ve already gone off on a tangent and i said i was gonna talk about attitude.

amami is laid back, but not to the point of complacency. y’know what i mean? like, he’s relaxed, but he’s on his guard, too. his speaking style is pretty casual (typically he’ll greet people with a “hey,” whenever he’s slightly uncomfortable he’ll probably say “haha”... this isn’t necessarily a canon thing but i like it when people have him talking in sentence fragments. ex. “forgot to grab my jacket” or “wanted to get a snack” sort of thing) and that’s just,,, the type of person he is. he’s casual. it’s remarkable considering how wealthy amami is-- though bear in mind, he still IS wealthy, so there are bound to be things he doesn’t understand about people-- that he can be so normal and like, down to earth, in a way. when people mess around with him he’ll probably just laugh it off.

to cite a fic i read once that had REALLY phenomenal characterisation, imo, ouma ends up dumping a bucket of water on amami’s head (on accident; there are some semantics and i won’t get into it but again the fic is really good and funny and you should totally read it) and amami just squeezes out his shirt and makes a couple cracks before walking away. (sorry this isn’t meant to be a “dumping love on fics” post but GOD that fic is hysterical.) he’s an enabler too, at least i think so-- remember that anthology chapter where kaede, shuichi, and kaito are trying to catch ouma and kaito sets an “amami trap” to stop him? all ouma has to do is flutter his eyelashes and go “pleeeaaase let me go amam~niichan!” and then he just. he does. what a fucking doormat i can’t believe him.

he’s like that though. i feel like big brother stuff is kind of his weakness. (and not in a kinky way alright i will destroy you. he might make a joke about having a sister complex in one of his ftes but he DOESNT that joke was just tasteless COME ON RANTARO WHFKLDSJFK) which brings me to his whole older brother thing, because like,,, YEAH. guy grew up with twelve younger sisters!!! and he remarked in his ftes with shuichi that they’re mostly step sisters, which means he just.... has a nurturing personality. i mean amami is somewhat conservative (if you try to come on to him during salmon mode you will be brutally rebuffed; amami tells u to keep your horny thoughts to yourself, though you shouldn’t be ashamed of having them) so i imagine he’s not the biggest fan of his father’s tendencies-- not that i don’t NECESSARILY interpret his father’s behaviour as him sleeping around.... it’s possible he just likes children and deliberately marries women who already have kids so he can take them... i mean it’s exceedingly decent to keep considering ur step children to be your children after a divorce so i have a hard time reconciling this common image of rantaro’s dad as some kind of player figure with the impression i got of him in my head but that’s just my daddy issues coming into play again so ignore me-- and yet he still considers all his sisters to be his sisters.

not to mention he feels a great deal of like, responsibility, when it comes to taking care of them. i find it impossible to believe that all the losses were his fault. you could ARGUE that the one he tells you about with his younger sister was to be blamed on him? but i mean, amami is a child. he didn’t even know his sister was following him out. sure he blames himself for it but there’s no real good way to blame him just considering that,,, he’s a kid. and he was so young-- he was obviously so young-- when it happened. so like, not to be all Good and Bad on you, but i do feel that amami is fundamentally a good reason. and you SEE that too, in the killing game. i’m certain he was on the fence about trusting that note he woke up with. would you trust it? he had no memory whatsoever of writing it, all he had were the words “ultimate hunt” and a map of the school to guide his way. i imagine he wasn’t even sure if he should do what the note said. but then ryoma started talking about sacrificing himself for everyone else, and rantaro probably thought, “well... if i have a way to get us out of here, even if it doesn’t work, i can’t just let ryoma sacrifice himself without having tried.”

rantaro is self-reliant too, i think. in the talent development plan mukuro remarks that she noticed he was injured a good number of times, but never said anything about it because she felt like he was trying to keep it under wraps. (note: good idea for an amami and mukuro friendship fic. must write. someone remind me.) i think amami kind of feels isolated from his classmates? either because he has these perceived notions of like, independence and whatever, not burdening anybody else with his problems (honestly not to go chabashira on main but wtf men ask for help c’mon i promise if you find a person who’s worth being in ur life they won’t treat you like shit for feeling ur feelings) or just because he’s not around a lot. i think amami is the type of person to invalidate his own problems a lot, or at least downplay them to others. he blames himself for all his sisters going missing, took the responsibility to find them all. you know the blow that’s going to be to his education? traveling around the world looking for twelve different people? and he plans to keep doing that!!! forever!!! ugh ;-; poor babey. but anyway i feel like he doesn’t want to tell anybody about his problems because he feels like it’s his thing to deal with.

i also believe that rantaro is a bit prideful. i mean, anyone can be prideful under the correct circumstances, and in fact there is a great deal of pride that simply isn’t addressed by the fandom in analysing characters and that makes me really sad because pride is such a SEXY character flaw but i’ll leave that alone for now. he hates being told to give up on what he’s doing. i mean everyone in his life has been telling him to stop looking for his sisters. that’s got to suck, but also, DAMN look at what his reaction was. this utter refusal to open up to anybody. shuichi’s ftes with him are spent pretty much just trying to get amami to stop squirreling around and actually TALK to him. amami asks shuichi at one point if he has any siblings and when the response is negative, amami immediately assumes that shuichi wouldn’t understand, would tell him to quit. just like everyone else.

(i mean, even with kiyo and mukuro, whose circumstances mirror his almost painfully at least in willingness to sacrifice stuff for their siblings, he doesn’t tell them what he’s doing, just that he’s doing it for his sister-- singular-- and that he would do anything for her. kiyo and mukuro!! out of ANYBODY, they would understand. in tdp they DO talk about it-- kiyo encourages him to keep searching-- as his friend...... fuck amaguji is such a good ship even if the implications of kiyo saying he wants to meet rantaro’s sister after he finds her bc she must be suuuuch a good person if he’s doing all this for her are uhhh not great-- and mukuro immediately understands when he says it’s to do with his younger sister. like, full stop. she just goes “okay” and goes serious. all at once. damn rantaro, mukuro, and kiyo really do be a power trio huh. i need to write more fic about them i miss them.)

this is more into baseless conjecture so take this as you will, but i also think rantaro is kind of,,, easily distracted lmao. he mentions helping out a village with a disease-- been a while since i’ve seen his ftes, sorry for any inconsistencies-- among other shit and like... bro what are you DOING. you have sisters to find. and he can’t be getting injured all the time, getting wrapped up with gang violence and all that, looking for people who were lost traveling. i mean sure, you could say they went all over the world and got wrapped up in all sorts of mess, but more likely they stayed in roughly the same area, waiting for him to come back. and also? i have a hard time believing his sisters were lost in these remote forest places people always put them. COME ON, who the fuck goes to some village for a vacation? a RICH person no less. i’m on another tangent. sorry. but yeah, i love the people who write rantaro as an absolute airhead. i headcanon that he has no way of judging the passing of time and thus is the absolute worst in the bathroom bc he sits there for twenty minutes thinking about the universe and then walks out like “:) ok ready to go” like wtf are you even doing there stupid akljdf anyway.

i think rantaro is softhearted and thoughtful. in his ftes with kaede he demonstrates an ability to look past what people show at surface level-- you can ask him about miu, kiibo, or kiyo and he’ll give u Good Fucking Insight(tm)-- and analyse their intentions more closely. and i mean this is just from a couple day’s interaction. he’s down to earth for sure, understanding when people are intimidated but also caring and observant. (his “talk about a first impression” line is so fuckaindgf.... good for his characterisation. i love romantic amamatsu but he so clearly takes an older brother role in those ftes, he’s really such a sweetheart,,,, hnadhfkj ;w;) rantaro is just. he’s patient with people. and selfless and kind. idk it’s all the good stuff. warm smiles and indulgence. all the way. probably lets kokichi steal his lunch.

THAT BEING SAID: i think rantaro also has a very serious streak. he doesn’t show it a lot but there are moments. he’s self-sacrificing-- i mean, obviously. he was the ultimate survivor, after all. some people hc that he got there by killing, or maybe everyone else in his game died but one person, but bro that doesn’t make any sense???? no. what happened was there were probably like three people left, and monokuma was like “one has to be sacrificed” and rantaro thought, welp. it’ll be me then. and i wouldn’t say the choice would be immediate because rantaro DOES has self preservation instincts-- he’s only human-- but i don’t think he’d have let anybody else make that decision. i think ultimately he would try to protect other people.

he can be scarily confrontational too. i do believe he’d usually only do it in the defense of others-- like, his base instinct is to protect. i read a fic once (oumami, unfortunately) where ouma was committing crimes and went to hide behind rantaro and rantaro instinctively moved to protect him, and that’s.... that’s good characterisation. point one to the oumami stans, point zero to me. motherfucker. (love u oumami stans, it’s just not my thing.) i really like it in fics when he’s stern, lecturing people for hurting other people, but i also think rantaro is too understanding to be truly unforgiving. like if two people got into an argument and one came out of it more hurt than the other, i don’t believe that amami would be unsympathetic to the less hurt one. i think he’s mature enough to take a look at the situation and go, well, okay.

i think he’d be TERRIFYING when angry. he’s patient, y’know? so it takes a lot to get him to that point. he’s really, ah, accommodating of people. puts up with a lot of bs kind of thing. but i imagine the best way to get him to snap is by hurting someone he cares about. and at that point: ur fucked. i’ve never written it before because i’m terrified of what i’d do with that kind of power but.... imagine the shuichi whump. holy god.

i’m NOT here to talk about shuichi whump (though i’m down to do that any time of day believe me) so i’m gonna like. shhhhiiiiiiffft.

i project on characters a lot so at this point it’s difficult to distinguish if some of my characterisation things are like, actually characterisation things? or just me venting, so like, take nothing i say as canon, but also,,, akdsjf we love a man who bottles up his emotions.

because rantaro just doesn’t have the TIME to be crying all over the place. he was probably a total wreck when he lost his first sister. and his second. and maybe even his third. but then he started to gather his composure, more and more. because if there’s anything that rantaro has in excess, it’s composure. the more losses he suffers the more of a shield he builds up. and the self hatred and the guilt and the blame and the responsibility are piling up and up and up, but god he hates it when other people see him sad, because he needs to be the strong one, he can’t just pile that up on other people. that’s not their weight to carry, and besides, he’s the older brother, he should be able to deal with his own problems. he’d just be burdening the people he cares about by letting them see his demons.

and then he doesn’t have any coping mechanisms because he never lets himself feel enough to cope, and when people get close enough to actually CARE about him, when people notice he’s upset or struggling and offer him help, he doesn’t know how to deal with it-- and god he hates lashing out at people but it’s so much easier to deal with the consequences of being mean than the consequences of breaking down. only conflict is scary when he’s one of the causes so he needs time to recover, and well, what better way to do that than to get on a plane or a boat and go look for his sisters? after all he’s wasting time whenever he’s just sitting around, they’re still out there and he needs to find them, so might as well just keep pushing himself to the limits, because it’s his fault they’re lost anyway...

something mukuro said to rantaro in the talent development plan stuck in my brain. like, initially it’s just a funny and cute interaction (rantaro even blushes and a blushing rantaro is a GOOD FUCKING RANTARO) but when i thought about it more i was like.... huh. hm. angst ideas. mukuro makes a joke about rantaro going over to her stand at the festival to flirt with her-- i think that’s the context, i know it’s play-boy related-- and rantaro assures her (as he always does) that he’s not that kind of guy, and mukuro agrees, saying she was just pulling his leg and that he seems like the kind of person who gets dumped because he doesn’t show his emotions enough. rantaro laughs, blushes, and says “haha, not touching that one,” and akdjfnnnnnn god mukuro you’re so blunt i love you fkdjf but wow. i usually have rantaro as not having dated anyone, just because i feel like he kind of hyperfocuses on finding his sisters? and given that he’s like sixteen (seventeen at the MOST) there’s not much of a timeline for when his sisters got lost. in my fic search i had to cram all the losses into a four-year period and damn that was rough. anyway i just don’t think he’d really prioritise romance. but that reaction implies that that’s EXACTLY his experience with romance, which makes a bit of sense because mukuro is ridiculously sharp, and also it’s,, it’s just sad idk poor rantaro. getting dumped because he’s like the emotional equivalent of a doorknob when it comes to his own feelings.

i do think rantaro is a bit cowardly. not in the sense that he’d shy away from danger-- i think he’d RUSH INTO IT HEAD FIRST because he’s a man or whatever, i know he respects women but he does seem to hold some of those very stereotypically masculine ideals of constantly protecting those around him, which is like.... ok toxic masculinity mcgee can u and kaito stop throwing hands every time u see each other ty-- but more in the sense that he avoids,,, confrontation. emotional confrontation just ain’t his thing. and i think he’d rather run away from it or otherwise find some way of ignoring it than try to address his problems.

he would, with that in mind, probably try to associate with people who don’t push the matter. kiyo and mukuro, for example. they both have a fair amount of baggage themselves so they’d probably be respectful. ryoma is lowkey enough that he just, he wouldn’t bring that shit up, that’s uncool. i also think rantaro would get along REALLY WELL with kaito, and i actually don’t think kaito would pull his sidekick stuff with him? just because in a way they’re kind of kindred spirits, and i think kaito would see an ally in rantaro before seeing someone to try to nurture, so they’d probably have some kind of a truce like, if you don’t force me to be vulnerable, i won’t force you. one of the reasons why i love amamota so much is because it involves the two of them growing to care about each other beyond that sort of unhealthy camaraderie and breaking down each other’s barriers and i just..... hhnnfhhdkfj they could be so good for each other but nobody wants to talk about thatjslfkj

you weren’t asking for my amamota mess lmao sorry anon i get sidetracked SO easily. but yeah, amami gravitates towards people who wouldn’t try to get him to be more honest with himself. and i honestly think the v3 cast would be pretty good about that overall, except for shuichi who is a detective and has a habit of sticking his nose in places it shouldn’t be, but i see no reason to write that out because amami’s ftes already display that beautifully. (well, that’s a lie, i’m absolutely plotting out a slowburn in my head already that involves shuichi stripping down his walls one by one, but forget about all of that rn we don’t need to talk about why amasaimota is my ot3.) also he is softer on childish people like ouma and himiko. ain’t nobody wants to TALK TO ME about how brilliant it would be if rantaro and hiyoko were friends because hiyoko has such problems in that department and he would take one look at her and go hm. i’m adopting her. and he’s so fucking patient and nice and she’d lose the will to make fun of him and i have to do ALL THE GODDAMN WORK AROUND HERE but it’s fine. at least i get to write it.

i’ve described the fundamentals of his characterisation pretty well by now i think. i have some throwaway headcanons, like uhh,,

he’s claustrophobic

plays the guitar and the ukulele

he prefers warm weather and perishes in the cold

high pain tolerance

he’s a Good Cook

doesn’t like sex jokes (they make him uncomfortable)

asexual (i do like a good demisexual hc at all times of day tho)

master of piggyback rides

does his own piercings

impulsive as hell

gets lost easily but can always find his way back

has a lot of scars from travels

hands are rough and calloused (again from travels)

morning person

smells like evergreen (you know i had to, you know i did)

Radiates Heat Like A Fucking Toaster Oven

good hugs

hates tying his shoelaces

likes being the big spoon :)

has a tongue piercing

i said “some throwaway headcanons” but i ended up listing way more than i mean to. i’ll make a separate list of my rantaro headcanons someday and talk about them all in detail but for now, uh, there’s that.

SO AS FOR THE RANTARO CHARACTERISATIONS I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE:

god where to fucking begin. actually i know exactly where to begin. it’s my least favourite one just because, like i said at the very beginning, rantaro is a subversive character. i mean i think he’s kind of a low hanging fruit when it comes to that. there are plenty of other subversive characters in the dr series but rantaro is like that. you expect a flirt and u get,,, a sweetheart. but then some people (usually the ones who ship him with female characters exclusively though i will see it on occasion in an amasai or oumami fic) decide to throw that out the window and make him a total playboy!! and listen, i have no problem with people who are a little flirty. we’re kids!! flirt ur heart out!!! and hey, that’s not what this is about but y’know what? so long as everything is safe, sane, and consensual, then yeah!! exercise your sexual freedom and sleep with whoever you want to!!! i don’t think there’s anything wrong with messing around a little, dating who u wanna and experimenting with ur tastes and preferences. if rantaro WAS a playboy, then there would be nothing wrong with that. i would love him just the same because he’s such a fundamentally GOOD character.

except that.... he’s.......... NOT. you slaughter one of the biggest aspects of his character by throwing away what matters to him and making him some hunky-deep-voice-dreamboat dude meant to sweep kaede/tsumugi/whomsteverthefuck off her feet. rantaro is one of those characters where he’s so blatantly not that kind of person, and it’s like. it’s an affront, almost, to portray him that way? and i do believe you should have the freedom to write what you want, since we’re in that age (aside from romanticised pedophilia and incest; that shit ain’t cute, i say this often but pro-ship DNI) where u should be able to take some liberties, but it’s just. hnnn. it’s so frustrating. rantaro does not know how to smolder! if he DID smolder, he wouldn’t even realise he was doing it. he doesn’t have people lying at his feet, okay? he’s too flaky for that. i wouldn’t say he’s unreliable but he definitely ain’t at school as much as he should be.

another one that i hate: st-stalker? what the fuck? that is not sexy that is creepy and weird?

another another one that i hate: yandere? what the FUCK??? that is not sexy that is glorified ABUSE???? the yandere trope is AWFUL bc you’re taking a controlling relationship and turning it into a fetish. NO. if he limits ur contact with other people, if he follows u everywhere, if he threatens ur loved ones, if he tries to control you, ladies and gents and nonbinaries, he’s not a yandere, he’s an abuser and you need a fucking restraining order. actually, people of ANY gender or sex can perpetuate this behaviour and IT IS NOT CUTE. I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK WHAT BOUNDARIES U SET IN PLACE, IF YOUR FREEDOM IS BEING RESTRICTED THAT IS ABUSE.

hate it when people make rantaro violent. hate it when people make rantaro a murderer. hate it when people make rantaro controlling. hate it when people make rantaro overtly sexual. some kind of sultry deep voice dominant kind of figure. dude, what the fuck? i don’t,, want to make any public comments about sex positions because i think that’s kind of Strange to just talk about on a post, but i do think that the way people portray him for their smuts is,,, idk it’s weird. i’m not gonna kinkshame u but like. :eyes:

i will however accept rantaro as a thrillseeker, or a highstrung rich boy, or a total space cadet, or a himbo, or a cryptid. these are all very good interpretations of the Mans. just, like. be wary of making him two dimensional. a good character is multifaceted. if you can take a trait that clashes with all of these and SELL ME ON IT, i will buy it. if u give me good justifications, or even just good writing?? then i will accept it.

the long and the short of it is, anon, he’s my favourite so i think about him a lot. i love writing rantaro. he’s just, he’s a Guy. y’know? He’s A Good Dude, If You’ll Give Him A Shot. :) we don’t get to see very much of him but i think that there’s plenty of material if you overanalyse everything, which, as you probably all know by now,,,, i absolutely do.

thank you for the ask, this was a delight to spend an hour talking about.

#amami rantaro #rantaro amami #abuse mention #long post

53 notes · View notes

baepsaetan · 4 years

Text

Banner by @thebannershop

Summary: In a futuristic age where a person can be coded and inserted into a new body, the rich can live forever. Born to a wealthy family, Jin expects to live life at a lofty and uncaring height. His expectations go awry when his body is murdered and a small gang steals his ‘stack’ and resleeves him in a criminal. Thrust into a gritty, neon world far below his life as an immortal, where death can be Real, Jin will discover truths that challenge his perceptions and make him wonder what - if anything - immortality is worth.

Chapters: pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7 -> read on Ao3

Genre: Altered Carbon Fusion, Science Fiction/Futuristic, Slow Burn, Smut, Angst, Murder Mystery

Warnings: Shifting PoVs (primarily Jin), minor character death, abuse, torture, gangs, drug addiction, drug use, references to depression, body dysphoria, animal death, swearing, smut in future chapters

Length: 2k

A/N: I want to emphasize that the beautiful banner is done by Rose at thebannershop, please head her way and give her some love! Just as a heads up, this is going to be a real long haul project - we’re talking 20+ chapters. Hope you all enjoy. :)

---

The person sitting across the table is nothing more than grease on a squeaky wheel, yet Hoseok finds himself personally disliking the man. For one, he keeps making small, covert gestures, leaning over the desk with watery blue eyes, pitching his voice low as though he were sharing a secret Hoseok should be honoured to receive. There’s nothing honest about his too-pale face, his flickering gaze, his eager attempts to be ingratiating even as he lowkey insults the precinct and everyone in it.

It also doesn’t help that he’s being a pain in the ass. Hoseok’s smile doesn’t falter, though, even as he shifts, bouncing his feet under the desk.

“The Kim family,” he repeats for what feels like the fiftieth time and is probably closer to the fifth, “has no legal claim over Seokjin’s body or stack. He was found outside of their home. Further, there is simply no reason for them to be in control of him at this time. I understand how distressing this –”

“Very distressing!” the man interjects, as though that were the point Hoseok had been making. “Very distressing, captain!” Each syllable is punctuated by a nervous, one-fingered tap on the desk, and Hoseok needs to supress his neurochems from flaring up with every tap. “Mr. and Mrs. Kim are absolutely distraught. To have their child back, to know that he is in safe keeping, that would do wonders for their emotional states.”

Idly imagining foisting this man off on one of his lieutenants – not that he ever would – Hoseok brushes back his black bangs, keeps his voice pleasant. “He’s being kept in our most secure storage area, Mr. McCall. We have very rigorous security measures.”

The lawyer’s eyes dart around the small, tidy office, his lips pursed. Hoseok knows it doesn’t look like much. Truth be told, it’s not. But the skeptical implication of that gaze – that Hoseok’s people aren’t good enough – has his own mouth tightening, aching to pull into a frown. He indulges himself for a moment and lets his neurochems activate, pulsing with lightning reassurance through his nervous system and bringing everything into bright focus. It’s a heady sensation, the flood of a potent cocktail of chemicals, difficult to let go, and he could just keep them going, just keep riding that rush…

But he won’t. Not at work. That’s the promise. Hoseok shuts the drugs down, and doesn’t let the resulting plummet show on his face.

Mr. McCall clears his throat, unaware. “Well… yes. But the Kim family have the means to set up an invested, careful and personal watch over Seokjin. They would spare no expense, whereas your department…” Another quick look at the room, hands brushing over the faded wood of Hoseok’s desk. “Your department surely does its best with what it has,” the lawyer finishes.

Fucking Meths, Hoseok thinks, and now his grin is really being threatened – maybe using his chems hadn’t been a great idea. He’s always been a strong believer in smiles being better than whips to get people to do things, but in this case… damn, theories are being tested. He’d rather be laughing any day, and his officers respond to it better than marine-sergeant shit, yet Hoseok can’t help but wonder if slapping on a glare wouldn’t get rid of this man more quickly.

Mr. McCall notices the change, either from simple perception or, much less likely, some kind of basic empathy implant, and a good deal of his fawning disappears. “Captain,” he says, again leaning forward, “truth be told, this is a mere formality. Between you and I, the Kims will have their son back. Either they will get him from you, and be in your debt…” He trails off meaningfully, and Hoseok, jiggling one leg to try to get rid of his irritated energy and the remains of his chem dose, doesn’t reply. Better to make the lawyer say it out loud, get it all out in the open. He’s recording this conversation, anyways.

“Or, they’ll go over your head to someone better suited to deal with a situation of this nature.”

Hoseok can’t help it. He stands up and straightens his black uniform, all in one easy, graceful movement that doesn’t quite mask how angry he is. Yeah. Neurochems were the best invention since God in terms of combat, but they sure as hell don’t help his temper much. “I hope your clients will be able to find someone better suited, Mr. McCall. I don’t think they will, but we can always hope. In the meantime, though, I have a precinct to run.”

“So you won’t take this murder seriously? You have better things to do?”

“I take all murders very seriously. Particularly when the victim’s parents won’t allow us to spin them up to testify. That’s pretty serious, the way I see it.”

McCall bristles. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but Mr. and Mrs. Kim are very devout persons. While they have no compunctions about switching sleeves to maintain their longevity, they view uncontrollable events – such as the very unfortunate case with Mr. Seokjin – as an act of the Almighty. They can in no way jeopardize his soul by –”

“I’ve got the pamphlets; the Neo-Cs show up at the precinct often enough. You don’t need to quote their beliefs at me.”

The lawyer gets to his feet with forced calm, and that’s enough to get a sincere smile back on Hoseok’s face. Bluster and threaten all he wanted, McCall’s family wasn’t one of the big three Meth families, long established and running everything in Triptych on a leash. They were going to have to call in more than a favour, or two, if they wanted Seokjin’s body back, and in the meantime…

Well, in the meantime, Hoseok would be very interested to know just who had killed Seokjin. He would also be very interested in finding out why his family, who refused to give him a new life in a shiny new body, still wanted him back so badly.

Yeah. And in the meantime, until Hoseok got an official letter signed by the higher-ups, or God Himself, Kim Seokjin was staying right where he was, stack, sleeve, and maybe even soul, too.

---

About six hours later, long after the Meth dog had slunk out of his office and long after his shift was officially over, Hoseok was in the breakroom, joking with one of the newest squad members. “What, you thought the captain was allowed to leave the station? These bars,” he plucks at one of the rank insignia pinned neatly to his jacket, “will electrocute me if I try.”

Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow briefly, and Hoseok knows why he’s hesitating. You don’t get to be captain without getting a reputation, and his reputation isn’t exactly soft. The recruit is wondering if it’s safe to joke, safe to loosen up. Hell, of course it is. They’re in the damn breakroom.

“Yeah,” Hoseok continues offhand. “There’s a reason I made captain at my age. Last captain wanted to leave the station and, well, he tried and he fried. Insta-promotion, y’know?” He laughs at his own joke, loud and sudden. That scares the hell out of Jaemin, the black-haired man rocking back in his chair, but it gets him to offer an only-slightly shaky smile, too – better than nothing.

Tanesha shuffles into the room, looking half-dead, her curly black hair a frizzy halo around her drawn face. He can’t really blame her; not everyone’s a night person, himself included, and The Curve isn’t exactly the quietest precinct in Triptych. He slips out of her way as she stumbles to the coffeepot – she sniffs at it, grimaces, shrugs, and then pours herself a cup. The best tech minder in the business is not exactly picky when it comes to her caffeine high.

Not that he can judge when it comes to being picky about highs. His skin prickles at the thought.

Leaning against the table, nose almost buried in the mug – like she’s hoping the scent alone will give her a jolt – Tanesha asks, “What’re you still doing here, captain Jung? Thought you had afternoon shift.”

“Afternoon, night, morning, I got ‘em all.”

“Please,” she snorts at his grand announcement. “Even you don’t have that much energy.” Suddenly glancing at Jaemin, the tall woman raises an eyebrow. “He been feeding you that bullshit story about being trapped here?”

“Uhh… no?” the new recruit answers, cautiously side-eyeing Hoseok. Hoseok flashes him a thumbs up.

“Please.” Tanesha snorts again, leaving off her coffee long enough to gesture with the mug at the captain. “Don’t let him impress you too much. Just remember, only reason he can do fifteen-hour days is ‘cause he’s outfitted with enough hardware to run a small planet into the ground. Neurochem, internal board, ONI, amplifiers, you name it and he’s got it. Almost a robot, that one.”

With a sharp bark of laughter, Hoseok doesn’t let the sting of that comment enter his voice. “Aish, you won’t let me brag, huh?” It’s not like I asked for all of these.

“You only get to brag when you deserve it,” his lieutenant replies. Somewhat unexpectedly – maybe for Jaemin’s benefit – she adds, “Besides, you deserve it so often, I have to work to cut you down when I get the chance.”

“Your hard work is appreciated,” he says solemnly, managing to remain deadpan for about four seconds. Then her round face scrunches, unimpressed, and façade cracking apart into another chuckle, Hoseok continues more seriously. “But Lieutenant Adebayo is right. I don’t expect any of you to pull long shifts like this. I get away with it because –”

The lights die, plunging them into dark and cutting off his words like a curtain dropped too soon. Suddenly an alarm is blaring from his ONI device, so loud that it completely drowns out Jaemin’s startled cry and Tanesha’s swearing. He claps his hands over his ears in pained reflex even as his eyes adjust, forcing back the dark, but it obviously does nothing to block out the noise.

“Attention,” a cool, genderless voice announces directly in his ear. It alternates with the alarm. “Attention. Cortical shelf thirteen-forty-three-forty has been illegally accessed. Attention. Immediate action required. Attention. Permission to shutdown system?”

He’s already got his watch up, the display light shining brightly in the dark, and the second the on-screen permission request appears Hoseok jabs a confirmation to block all access to the shelves. “Adebayo, get the lights back on. Preferably ten seconds ago,” he snaps at their tech, and then he’s out of the room. Even as he moves, flinging himself around desks and moving easily by the officers stumbling around in the blackness – not everyone has an upgraded sleeve and upgraded vision like he does – Hoseok is cursing. Himself, the computer system, whoever the hell is hacking them –

And McCall. He’s definitely cursing McCall. Given the cortical shelf number, he has a feeling he’s going to be seeing the lawyer sooner rather than later.

Within about two minutes, he’s barrelled down the stairs into the basement, where the stacks are stored. Here, he doesn’t need his enhanced eyesight; the wall of small compartments glows a soft red, each occupied shelf accompanied by a light blinking just above it. The stack storage is run off a separate power source, the better to stop – well, to stop exactly this from happening. Hoseok stares for a long moment at the distinctly dead light over the shelf that his ONI is helpfully informing him is empty, before pulling up his watch. A few quick taps, and he doesn’t know whether he should be relieved, confused or just plain pissed off.

He definitely wants to take another hit of neurochems. Could anyone blame him for it?

After all, Seokjin’s ruined body is still in storage, but his cortical stack is gone.

#namjin #namjin fanfic #networkbangtan #my fanfic #altered carbon #namjoon #jin

13 notes · View notes

metahawke · 4 years

Text

Watchdog Secrets (1) [A Clint Barton/Hawkeye Fic]

Main characters include: Female OC, Villain OC, Clint Barton (Hawkeye), Tony Stark (Iron Man), Pepper Potts, and more!

Word Count: around 4,690ish, give or take a couple of words.

Warnings: idk, curse words?

A/N: Hello! I’m @metahawke and this is my FIRST fic that I’ve written in about seven years. I hope that you like this first test run, I’m hoping to make this into a miniseries. If you have anything you wanna submit (tips, requests, ideas, criticism, etc) I’m totally open. If you like this, give it a reblog and a like if you’re feeling generous. I’m hoping to get more chapters up soon, possibly expanding to WattPad!

Also, this fic features my first oc female character I’ve written for in a while. Hope you guys like her!

That’s all from me. Happy reading!

---

“God there’s a shit ton of people here,” Kelsea muttered into the phone’s receiver. She was not even in the party yet, but from her car she watched the herds of people flood into the Stark Mansion. They threw their keys and fifty-dollar tips at the valets and waltzed in as if they owned the place. She still could not believe she agreed to come to this party, but if it meant her moving up in the firm then she hoped it would be worth it.

Hoped. So far, the thought of bailing and driving straight back to Santa Monica sounded a lot more appealing than the possibility of getting the promotion.

“Oh, you’ll be okay, it’s just for, what, an hour or two? Mingling with rich people and trying to get the hot shit on Tony Stark? Maybe even,” her friend faked a gasp, “The Avengers?” Faye replied. Kelsea could hear the eye roll in her voice. She did have a point, but these were not just some rich people; these were RICH rich people- connected to one another in even the most far out of ways and they all acted like the spoons they were born with were more silver than the last one. Almost every time she encountered someone from the wealthy side of the spectrum, their demeanor always changed when she revealed her occupation to them. Even in college she had people of the same suit basically turn their noses up at her and tell her she would never make it.

Damn these fucking rich people, Kelsea thought. She sighed and rubbed her temple, trying not to ruin the face that Faye made her put on earlier that night. She didn’t care for makeup often, mainly because it hid her freckles that were a genetic gift from her mother.

“Kels,” Faye sighed, “the Manhattan shit happened, like, last month or whatever, so you’ll be able to get any dirt just by inactively eavesdropping. You are gonna be fine. You are a hot, fierce, and stubborn-in-a-good-way twenty-three-year-old woman who will absolutely do the best job tonight. You got this.” Kelsea smiled, knowing Faye was right.

“Now, I have to go. Tate and I have to go to his parents’ to house sit for the weekend. Don’t bail, but if you really need to, I’ll call you to fake an emergency.”

“Alright, thanks, Faye.”

“No problem, love ya kid.”

“Love ya too, bye,” The line clicked and once again, Kelsea was alone. She looked at the key in the ignition and thought one more time if it would be best to just drive back and fake an excuse. That she got sick before she left and was not able to go due to hugging the toilet all night. Or even all weekend.

“No,” she told herself, “I have to do this, I’ll be fine.” A small smile crept over her face after her miniature pep talk. She took the key out of the ignition, took one more glance in her rearview mirror for any last fixups and brushed her dark hair behind her ear in the process. When she stood, her knees ached slightly from the heels she decided to wear, but they made her look tall and made her feel confident.

And she needed all the confidence in the world.

---

Mixing in with another small group of wealthy elites, glittering with their thousand-dollar dresses and perfectly folded pocket squares, she felt plain and insignificant. Kelsea, however, persisted and climbed the stairs to the main entrance of the mansion. She entered with the group she was mixed in with and the sounds of voices, laughter, and music filled the space around her, and she almost stopped dead in her tracks. People were everywhere; waiters and waitresses from the catering company tended to the small cliques of individuals at the tables. Music played from the various speakers set up around the space. A silent auction was going on at the back of the party, benefiting some charity Stark probably picked out of a hat an hour before the whole thing started. Everything about the interior was what one would imagine: clean, modern, and minimalistic. It was nice, nonetheless, but without the people and whatnot it would be colder than a Minnesota winter.

Kelsea surveyed her environment and her eyes landed on the bar. Since Faye can’t be here, alcohol will take her place, she thought to herself. She waited for the crowd to diminish and proceeded to order a neat old fashioned, receiving weird looks from other patrons as she got her drink. It was like they never considered that a girl that young would be drinking whiskey. She shot a nosy older woman and her partner a death glare and they both turned around back to their posse of other elites. Kelsea smirked to herself as she sipped on her rescue drink. The concoction burned her throat the first couple of times, but then started to go down smooth after she nursed it for a little while longer.

With drink in one hand and her clutch in another, she made her way through the people to find an empty table to stand at. She found one closest to the window overlooking the cliff the mansion stood on. She placed her drink on the table and leaned against it, looking out onto the darkening ocean and complimentary skyline. After the moment of brief bliss, she looked around to make sure everyone was occupied in their conversations and carefully opened her clutch. She took out the issued earpiece her boss gave her to help with picking up dirt. Kelsea called it ‘low-grade spying’ but to her boss, it was just ‘fancy eavesdropping.’ She shook her head at the memory of that conversation as she placed the device in her ear. It blended in well with her skin tone (better than most bandages, she joked to herself) and was concealed by her dark hair. She opened the device app on her phone to configure it and make sure it did not deafen her when it was turned on. Once on, she tuned in and began her task.

Knocking back another swig of whiskey, she casually looked around at the people. There was one woman with a green and glittery dress, a broach of some figure fashioned in gold on her chest, who spoke to a small circle of men and their wives. Laughter erupted from them as she told some story. From her earpiece it seemed like some anecdote from a golf benefit some time ago.

Kelsea scanned more. The silent auction attracted a few partygoers, some pointing to the interesting artifacts on display. One man in a white suit admired the objects to the far right, along with another man next to him with a purple bowtie. Kelsea could hear him talking about how rare one of the objects was and how amazing it is to see it in person. Kelsea craned her neck a bit to see that it was just a replica of Iron Man’s glove. I can’t believe they think it’s even real, she thought. The real one would not look like a plastic kid’s toy. She gave them the benefit of the doubt, though, since it had Stark’s autograph on the back of the glove’s hand.

More scanning, getting distracted, and looking out at the water. The waves crashed against the bottom of the cliff and allowed Kelsea to momentarily forget about the task at hand. This was the closest she had been to the ocean since she was younger. She and her parents had lived in the area for a while when she grew up, but they had moved to Minnesota, and later Nevada, due to “unforeseen circumstances,” as her dad liked to put it. Kelsea never pried or asked any questions about the move, but she did miss the water and her times at the beach.

Her train of thought was interrupted when she saw a man approach her table. The man’s black hair was slicked back out of his face and tucked behind his ears, revealing a small piercing on his left ear. His silver eyes stayed on Kelsea until they got closer to the window. Her gut immediately told her that it did not trust this a single bit. She attempted to keep her composure as he stopped in front of her, looking out at the water as well. From where she stood, she could smell his cologne: dark, musky, and way too piled on. Kelsea had to hold in a gag.

“It’s so calming watching the waves at night, wouldn’t you agree?” The man said, still looking out the window.

“Um, yeah,” Kelsea managed to say. Even with one sentence he gave her uneasy vibes, ones that even she could not ignore. His accent was strange. She had heard something like it before but could not pin down when or where exactly.

“I haven’t seen you at one of these before,” he said. The man turned to her and flashed a cocky grin. “Did you just get on the list?”

Kelsea thought fast.

“Oh, yes, my boss sent me in lieu of himself since he had a previous, uh, engagement. My company worked closely with Mister Stark, and now here I am,” Kelsea gave a small smile and shrug. At least she could lie damn well.

“What company, if I may ask?” he leaned closer, the alcohol on his breath made Kelsea’s stomach churn even more.

Shit, she thought. She gave a small laugh and took a swig of her drink. Without missing a beat, she told him, “Oh I work for the Hedlis Corp.”

“Hedlis… I don’t think I have ever heard of that one,” the man speculated. Kelsea smiled, ignoring his comment. She was trained to handle pricks, but this one was especially prickish.

“Oh, I’m sure you have, Mister...?”

“Laksten,” he smiled again. “Andrei, but my friends call me Andi.” His hands moved closer to where Kelsea’s rested on the table.

“And you, madam?”

“Oh, I’m Elle,” Kelsea lied. She quickly glanced around the room to see if there were any exits. There was a staircase right next to the bar, a spiral that seemed like a beacon of hope for Kelsea in the moment. If she could run up and hide, she would be okay.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Elle,” Andrei said smoothly. He went for her hand to bring it up to his lips, and she suddenly saw the tattoo on his other hand. The skull with the eight tentacles, enclosed in a circle. The symbol rested in the space between his right thumb and forefinger. She hid her shock well as she forced a smile as he kissed her hand.

“So, Miss Elle, what do you do for the Hedlis Corp?” Andrei said. He apparently did not realize that Kelsea saw the marking. As she finished off her drink, Kelsea gave some nonchalant answer about being part of the PR team for the company. “Basically, a journalist of sorts,” she explained.

“So, what is a PR journalist doing at an event held by Mister Stark?”

“Well, my boss was not able to make it, so I offered to take his place. He trusts me.”

“Ah, apparently so. You see very trustworthy,” Andrei purred.

“Uh, well thank you, that’s very kind.”

“And you said your boss was…?”

“Oh, uh- “

Kelsea was cut off by the sudden stop of the music as someone began announcements for the private auction.

“Ladies and gentlemen! All partygoers! It is time for the winners of the Silent Auction, courtesy of none other than Mister Laksten and Mister Stark! Please come up so these fine ladies and gentlemen can give you the recognition you both deserve!”

Kelsea looked at Andrei as he rolled his eyes but gave her another sly grin.

“I must go, I will be back for you, Miss Elle,” he said. He strode up to the back of the party and shook hands with colleagues as he made his way.

Without any more hesitation, Kelsea quickly made her way to the staircase, careful not to let Andrei see her leave. She mingled in with the crowd, making her way to the staircase. She made it to the bar as the announcer and Andrei were joined by Pepper Potts, Stark’s assistant. Making anecdotes for the crowd’s pleasure, they continued to wait for Tony to make an entrance. They seemed preoccupied, and nobody had bothered to pay any attention to the plain girl in the black dress as she dropped by the bar for another drink, straight whiskey this time, and slowly made her way up the white staircase. Her heels not helping her stay quiet, but again, nobody paid any attention. The crowd was growing restless for the arrival of Mr. Stark who was always fashionably late but made up for it with a grand entrance.

Typical, rich, genius playboy.

Kelsea made it to the top of the stairs and was greeted by dimmed lighting and a small lounge area. The landing at the top was a balcony that looked down onto the crowd, but with the dimmed lights, the main lighting for the party made it so barely anybody could see her from the floor. Kelsea took this into account and leaned against the glass railing and finally exhaled, not knowing she had been holding her breath that entire time. This time, she took a larger swig from her drink, feeling a light buzz as the alcohol went down burning again. College had made her a lot of things, but a lightweight was not one of them.

She pulled out her phone to check the time. 10:42 P.M. the digital clock read.

“Fuck me,” she muttered. It had not even been one hour since she walked in and what did she have to show for it? Nothing. She had nothing to go off other than Creepy Tattoo Billionaire Dude. Frustrated with herself, she turned back around to face the crowd to see if she could pick up anything else. Andrei had been a big lead, but she wanted to double-check if there were any others. She scanned the crowd, this time more carefully and paid more attention. Just as she tuned into a conversation held by the security guys in the back, a voice called out suddenly from behind her.

Guards: “Fifteen minutes, we have to …”

“I would rather not, but are we enjoying the view?”

Kelsea jumped and turned towards the faceless voice. She heard footsteps coming closer from the deeper part of the shadows and after another second a man stood before her. She stared wide-eyed and gripped the glass railing, shocked to even see anyone else up there. He stared back with arms crossed and a concerned tone in his voice.

“…everything should be in place, he just has to…”

“Well? Are ya gonna explain yourself or will this end with me escorting you out of here?” He said threateningly. His voice was rough, rugged. Kelsea could not discern his face well but could tell he was looking her over.

“I- I promise it’s not what it looks like, I- “

“Yeah? You what? What is it supposed to look like then?”

“I, I’m just-! I work for-! “

Kelsea was cut off as music erupted from behind her and the crowd erupted into applause and admiration. Tony Stark had finally arrived. Rock music blared on the speakers as the announcer introduced him as “Iron Man, the World’s Greatest Hero!” Tony flew in on what looked like one of his newer prototype suits, decked out in the signature, shining crimson and accompanied by a translucent blue metal in lieu of gold. The new material showed off the wires and inner technology of the suit, giving it a more sci-fi look than anything. It was rumored that he created the prototype in his month-long hiatus he took after Midtown happened. The suit eased him down in front of the crowd and presenters as applause filled the gigantic space. The suit had mechanically retreated off Stark and flew off somewhere else all by itself. Most likely to his garage, assumed Kelsea.

“Stark is going to be… Andi is almost ready…”

“Hey, you haven’t answered my question!” The guy pushed. He took a few steps closer and Kelsea could see more of him in the light. His blue eyes were complimented by the dark navy suit he wore, their expression held a threatening look as he stood his guard. His hand was behind his back, and only Kelsea knew what could happen next if she did not think fast.

Kelsea stood up straight and looked him up and down. As far as she could see, he did not appear to have anything major hidden under his jacket or anything. She looked into his threatening eyes, matching his glare with one of her own.

“I came up here to get away from a guy that was being a creep. I am here on business and I came in place of my boss, who couldn’t be here. I’m sorry if I’m not allowed up here, but the guy down there is bad news.”

“Who?”

“Andrei… Andrei Laksten.”

The guy’s eyes narrow and held a more concerned look, as if Kelsea had told him he had just won a million dollars by simply breathing.

“Why do you say that?” He asked.

Kelsea matched his reaction and swallowed, worry about what would happen next.

“Because he’s…”

“…this place will be finished, we gotta get out through…”

“AstroBoy won’t know what’s coming…!”

Kelsea spun back to look at the bounders as they quickly and quietly made their way towards the exit. Andrei’s smile had gotten wider, more strained, as his eyes darted between Stark, the bouncers, and his watch.

“Oh my god, Tony has to go!” Kelsea realized. The guy, who still stood in front of her, was alert at the mention of Tony.

“What do you mean he has to go? WHO DO YOU-“ His voice started to raise, and Kelsea was not in the mood to attract any attention.

“I’ll explain later, but we need to get him off the stage, and quick.” Kelsea quickly grabbed her phone out of her clutch and dialed into the number her boss had given her (in case of an ‘emergency’, he had told her.) She pleaded for the other end to pick up. She heard a click, then a quiet, “Hello?”

“Da Vinci is about to fly into the river. Now,” Kelsea said sternly into the phone. A couple more exchanged words and a reiteration of urgency were followed by a click and Kelsea typed rapidly on her phone. The man stood gawking at her, totally unsure of what had just happened. He searched her face for some sort of answer, but he found nothing.

“I have to go. Look, I’m sorry if you think I’m here to intrude, but I promise you, I’m not,” She told him, quickly swigging down the last of her drink and setting it on the railing. There was a brief pause between the two, silence mixed with disbelief. In that moment, everything was silent; even the crowd had momentarily paused.

With a swift motion, she knocked the glass from the railing. Almost as if it were all in slow motion, it sailed down onto the marble floors below and disintegrated into pieces with a crash. The only sound in the seconds before chaos erupted, ignited by the tackling of Tony Stark by his security agents as a sound like a car crash made the whole mansion rumble. The bar had exploded, sending glass, wooden shards and burning liquid in every way towards the audience. Screams and confusion came about when the prototype suit Stark had worn shortly beforehand flew out from its hiding place and towards the front but did not go to Tony. It instead begged upon Andrei as he took it with (literal) open arms. His fang-like grin gleamed in the lights as the suit engulfed him, giving him the power over everyone in the room. He shot up to the ceiling of the room as he tried to get the hang of the suit. The crowd tried to run to any exit they could reach, but to their dismay, the doors were blocked by the now-rogue bouncers from the party. Of course, nobody would have suspected them at a party at Tony Stark’s mansion. Yet, here they were. The rich elites against a man with an iron suit and a small army of hulking men with guns drawn.

“Come on!” Kelsea shouted to Mystery Man as she raced down the stairs to the front of the room. She cursed to herself, enraged by the fact that this happened before she could have realized it. That guy who confronted her would pay for making her lose her focus, she promised herself. As far as she was concerned, he had not even bothered to follow her. She did not care; her focus was to make it to the front and get people out of there. She made it through the sea of people, only to be met by the announcer cowering behind a turned over table. She went to yank him out of his hiding place when Andrei’s voiced boomed over the people with the suit’s speakers.

“You all will pay for the mistakes of the Avengers! Hydra will live forever!” His voice sent chills down Kelsea’s spine as she attempted to get the announcer and a couple of donors to the next room over, an exit that the bouncers had overlooked that went out onto a deck on the cliff. She huddled them along the tables that had been knocked over and had almost made it to the end of the wall before Andrei shot through the table she crouched behind. The group she pushed made it to the other side of the wall and ran for safety, but the blow had knocked Kelsea to the ground. She looked up at Andrei, fear and rage filled her core as she stood up and wiped the blood from her cheek. She could feel his eyes pierce into her even from inside the suit.

“You, especially! How dare you think you could even outsmart me, you little bitch!” I’ll make you pay with your fucking life!” He used the only working blaster-glove to fire at her as she dodged his attacks. She tried her best to get her phone opened as she used the remaining tables as coverage. She got her device opened and hit the kill switch which activated the detonation timer.

“If I can’t get rid of the great Tony Stark, I’ll just get rid of every single one of you!” Andrei yelled at the cowering individuals still stuck without any shield.

“I’ll even be fair and start with you, little bitch!” He screamed as he readied to fire directly at Kelsea. In that split second, however, she mustered her strength and threw the phone at the suit as the timer ticked down to one second. The next moment, another explosion came, and Andrei and the prototype fell mercilessly to the floor. The impact cracked the now dirtied marble floors and sent small parts from the suit flying in all directions. For a few moments, Andrei laid motionless and not one person made a sound. Kelsea arose and walked to wear the metal body sat. She approached it and nobody dared to move with her.

She took another step and jumped as the iron body jolted back to life and tried to reach around her ankle. She screamed, but Andrei did not last much longer. As if in the blink of an eye, an arrow came whistling from out of nowhere and embedded itself into the missing kneecap in the suit. An electric current ran through it and shocked the entirety of the metal man that lay on the floor. Andrei ceased moving. No signs of consciousness besides the flickering circuit boards and frayed wires coming from the suit. The helmet’s eyes had stopped flashing imprecise Morse Code after the electric shock coursed through it.

Kelsea caught her breath and looked up as she tried to find the source of the arrow. Her eyes landed to where she left the Mystery Man earlier on the balcony. She stared as he stepped forward, an industrial sized bow gripped in hand. Kelsea’s jaw dropped as she made eye contact with him. He only raised his eyebrows at her, almost in a cocky way. Her face filled with heat but before she could say anything, sirens filled the outside of the mansion and officers forced their ways into the house. They took down the bouncers who were still caught off guard by what the hell had just happened. Kelsea glanced back at the man in the balcony, but he was gone. It was then, as the police began to come into the building, that she figured she should probably disappear too.

She headed towards the elevators, stepped in, and hurriedly pushed the ‘down’ button. After a minute or two it dinged, and she stepped off and into the workshop. She wandered around as she attempted to find signs of people. She tripped over stray pieces of machinery and paperwork before she finally found the door to Stark’s private office. Inside she could hear conversation and knocked before being greeted harshly by another voice behind the door.

“Who the fuck is it?”

“Kelsea. Open the damn door,” Kelsea replied equally annoyed. Slowly the door opened, it was revealed to be Happy behind the harsh voice who had greeted her. He quickly closed and locked the office door and Kelsea stood anxiously in the presence of the true elitists of the night: Pepper Potts was hunched over Tony, who was seated in his office chair and attempted to push Pepper off from tending to him. He did not want to submit to the pain, let alone any type of pain, even if it was just a couple of scratches to the face and hands. He winced, however, as Pepper dabbed at the minor wounds to clean them. The three security agents behind them stood emotionless. Just then, another knock came from behind the door and Happy answered with the same threatening question. A rough, familiar voice answered back and Happy unlocked the door. Kelsea turned just in time to see none other than Mystery Man as he charged into the room. Staring in disbelief, she was taken aback that it would be him of all people. The one person she wanted to may pay for basically ruining the night.

He suddenly stopped midstride and midsentence at the sight of Kelsea. Almost on cue, they both opened their mouths at the same time.

“What the hell is she doing here?”

“What the hell am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

“I fucking asked first!”

“Oh, so you want to go down that route, do you?”

Kelsea started to make her way towards him as he squared up to her. Before either one of them could throw the first punch, Tony yelled to knock it off.

“You both are idiots who need to help us explain what the hell just happened out there!” Tony rubbed his temples while he talked indirectly to the two. Kelsea stepped away from her new nemesis and crossed her arms as she tried to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. She opened her mouth, prepared to explain what had happened but Pepper stopped her.

“We should thank Kelsea, Tony, for alerting us to get you to safety before things got worse than they did,” she said calmly. She looked at Kelsea and gave her a small smile of gratitude. The man behind Kelsea stood there in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, ‘Kelsea’? Pepper, you know her? What the fuck is going on right now? How?!”

Without missing a beat, Pepper stood up straight and turned to him with a piercing look in her eyes that told him he better stand down while he could.

“Clint Barton, this is Kelsea Coach. My personal assistant and agent of SHIELD.”

2 notes · View notes

sserpente · 5 years

Photo

A/N: Request from anon. Oh yes, I had so much fun writing this. 3:)

Words: 3066 Warnings: smut, bondage, sub!Loki/dom!Loki

Loki breathed in the cold winter air as he strolled through one of the countless Christmas markets, inhaling the scent of mulled wine, eggnog, cookies and cinnamon. Disguised as a ginger man with beard, glasses and a black coat, he eyed the many little trinkets the mortals tried to sell. Some of them, handcrafted, he had to admit, were rather impressive.

It had been months since his grandiose escape from SHIELD and the Avengers—and he had been hiding on the planet ever since, among the very people he had once attempted to rule. Perhaps Midgard was not so bad after all. During the festive season, so he had learned, people tended to at least try and be kinder to one another, the delicious meals and Christmas treats, however, were what intrigued him the most about the merriest time of the year.

“Oh, so sorry!” The woman who bumped into him giggled, never taking her eyes off of her lover whom she was clutching like a child would a soft plush toy. Loki sighed when her partner leaned down to kiss her passionately and they disappeared around the corner of the Christmas market. This was the third couple he had run into today… and he could not help but feel… lonely. If Christmas was a time for love, friendship and family, then why was he still alone? He almost snorted. It was not much different from home, now was it? Thor got all the attention and ever since Frigga’s death, who was left for him to love him dearly without any judgement and grudges? There was no one.

Besides, it had been a while since he had had the warm body of a young woman all to himself, appreciating her curves and her sex… He should make this his next priority. It could not be too hard to find a willing woman, after all.

Mumbling an apology, you pushed past an elderly man wearing a red and gold Christmas jumper, eyes fixed on the ginger man a few feet away from you. His disguise was downright impressive, you had to focus hard to see through the illusion he had cast on himself—but it was him, without a doubt.

When they had asked you to find Loki and return with his head on a silver platter, how could you have declined? The Asgardian was wanted on several planets, not just Midgard and the amount of money they had promised you… it would be enough to buy yourself a fancy little house in Central London and live in clover. There was no space for qualm in your life.

Moving quickly, you followed Loki through the crowd, determined to catch him today. You had been watching him for a whole week already, studying his behaviour and motives to not be caught off guard when attacking. You had it all planned out; and you were confident that you would succeed.

Loki’s superhuman reflexes got the better of him when the woman before him suddenly slipped on her ridiculously high heels, a lame excuse for winter boots. He caught her before she could collide with the frozen ground, wrapping an arm around her waist firmly. You breathed out triumphantly. Sometimes the simplest of strategies worked best.

“T-thank you,” you breathed out, looking up at your saviour with widened eyes. Damn. Up close, he was even more handsome. The illusion around him flickered, switching between his mortal disguise and his usual self—raven hair, glasses, blue eyes, ginger beard… you blinked. Focus.

“Perhaps you should pay closer attention to where you are going.”

Suppressing a smile when he released you again, you nodded as if you agreed. Oh, I was watching where I was going, Loki. Don’t you worry.

“Sorry about that. I am new in town, I decided it might be a good idea to try a change of scenery before Christmas. I guess I got a little carried away with… exploring the area.”

“You came alone?” He dug. There he went and took the bait.

“I am… I was hoping to meet some people, make new friends, new… acquaintances.”

Loki smirked. Could it be? Was the first woman who practically fell into his arms the one he would take sexual pleasure and satisfaction from tonight? Something… did not quite feel right; and his gut feeling was usually right. Still, just this once, he elected to ignore it. It was only sex, after all. One passionate night full of lust, desire and countless orgasms. Tomorrow morning, he would be gone again already and never see this innocent mortal again.

“You know… my hotel is not far from here. I would love to… get to know you a little better, Mr…”

“Hiddleston.”

“Mr Hiddleston. Would you like to accompany me on my way back?” You asked, playing with your hair innocently. It was almost too easy.

“This is a rather luxurious hotel room. You must be among the wealthy.”

Raising an eyebrow, you slid off your winter coat. If you didn’t know who he was already, now would be the time to get suspicious.

“That is a very odd thing to say, you know.”

Loki glared.

“Is it?”

He barely let you take off your boots before he had approached you, pressing his muscly chest against your back. His arms sneaked around your waist, pulling you close all the while his lips began planting soft kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Take your clothes off,” he whispered demandingly, earning him a low chuckle on your behalf.

“I will. But you go first. I think you will like what I would like to try.”

Loki tilted his head. He did not want to admit it but he was intrigued, his member clearly excited about the prosperity of sheathing himself inside a tight woman so soon… so he did you the favour. Resisting the urge to simply snap his fingers and remove his clothing by magic, he began to strip for you, slowly tearing off each and every piece of fabric until he revealed a tall, rather pale and well-defined body… and a rock-hard, aching length screaming for attention. Combined with his raven hair—you could see through his illusion clearly now—and those stinging blue eyes… he was gorgeous. It was almost a shame you had not come here to actually fuck him.

“Lie down on the bed.” You commanded softly, licking your lips as you eyed him up and down. Loki smirked and obliged, never taking his gaze off of you.

You smiled. You had him right where you wanted him. You had to act quickly now. Quickly, seductively and convincingly. Approaching the bed yourself, you opened one of the drawers of the nightstand and pulled out a velvety red rope. No regular bondage rope, of course. This kind of rope would block most of Loki’s magic and weaken his strength. It would give you enough time to prepare your dagger and kill him before he found a way to break free again.

“I want to tie you up… is that alright? I promise you will like it.” You teased, wiggling your eyebrows in the process. Loki only threw his head back and laughed heartily. Naturally, he did not expect the rope to be of magical heritage as well.

“By all means…” He replied sneakily.

Grinning, you got to work, wrapping it around his wrists firmly before attaching the loose ends to the bedposts. Loki’s hungry glance up to your still clothed form sent pleasant shivers up and down your spine. Oh, under different circumstances, you definitely wouldn’t say no to him…

“And now what, little minx?” He purred darkly.

“Now?” Calmly, you reached for your dagger hidden in the other drawer. “Now it’s time to say goodbye, Loki.”

Within the fraction of a second, his face fell.

“What?” He breathed. Then, he began struggling against the restraints.

“Don’t bother. They block your strength. I wish I could be sorry. But have you got any idea how much money your head is worth? I would be rich.”

“Hmm, well I can ensure you, I am much more of use alive.” He spat. “Who are you?” He was going to die anytime now. You might as well tell him who was going to murder him.

“My name is (Y/N). I am a professional bounty hunter and I work with SHIELD and other secret organisations all over the world. I’ve been watching you for a whole week already.”

Loki scoffed.

“I knew there was something wrong with you… you should feel honoured, my dear. I decided you were alluring enough for me to join you despite the warning signs.”

“Curiosity kills the cat.” You shrugged.

“Cats have nine lives.” He retorted smugly. Then, he paused, seemingly interested. “Just answer me one question… how? How did you know?”

Oddly enough, Loki did not seem anxious about his fate at all, almost as if he expected you to change your mind and not kill him after all. Arrogant bastard. Arrogant and attractive bastard.

“I can see through illusions and magic.” You replied. “And before you ask, no, I don’t know how. I just… can. Ever since I was a child.”

“I see… do you usually seduce your victims before you slice their throats or am I receiving a special treatment?”

“I seduce the handsome ones.” You confessed with a sly smile, testing the sharpness of your dagger as you spoke.

Loki smirked. You did find him attractive then. This was vital knowledge you had just provided him with. Perhaps… perhaps the situation wasn’t entirely hopeless. Nothing he couldn’t talk himself out of. After all, he was the God of Mischief…

“Well then, how about a… proposal?”

“I don’t negotiate with my victims.”

Loki’s smirk widened. “Am I? Am I one of your victims? Surely, you did not have to strip me naked first and tie me up to end my life.”

“No. Having you on display like this is a nice bonus to look at though.”

“Oh, that I believe you. Are you not tempted? I could bring you pleasure you can only dream of. By the end of this night, you would be screaming my name and praise me as your god.” He growled seductively. His member twitched upon his own words, begging to be attended to. Of course you were tempted. Loki was massive, much longer than average and… was he leaking pre-cum already? How breath-taking would it feel to have him deep inside you, you wondered?

Swallowing thickly, you tore your gaze away from his cock, meeting the outright mocking expression on his face again.

“If I can make you cum for me… you let me go.”

Your jaw dropped. He was bold.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Dead-serious, my dear…”

Were you… mental for considering this? Wasn’t the point of using him for your own pleasure to have an earth-shaking orgasm? But then again… Loki’s arrogance was nerve-wrecking. He was either too confident and might not manage to make you climax in the first place or he was lying and wanted to have sex himself before dying. You had nothing to lose… not really.

Sighing, you put your dagger away.

“Fine. You can try.” You challenged him.

“Well then… untie me.”

“Do you think I’m crazy?”

“Oh, you will be, little minx.”

You snorted.

“No. The restraints stay on.”

Once again, the God of Mischief smirked.

“Very well... I will not need my hands. Bare yourself for me.” He commanded with a stern voice and you, smitten by this sudden change of priorities, obeyed. Your hands were shaking when you got rid of your trousers and knickers, followed suit by your pullover and lastly, your bra.

You had to admit… you rather enjoyed Loki’s greedy blue eyes resting on every inch of your exposed skin.

“Sit on my face.” He ordered.

“What?!”

“I do not like to repeat myself. Sit on my face, little minx.”

Biting your lower lip to hold back another attempt to protest, you did as you were told. This… this was way too intimate. Never before had you presented yourself like this to a man, let alone a god you were supposed to kill and collect your bounty for; and yet, when you lowered your pussy onto his luscious lips slowly, arousal rippled through you like electricity. You swallowed. If he were to get dangerously close to making you cum… you would simply pull away, right?

A moan escaped your lips when Loki’s tongue darted out to taste you, immediately attacking your clit with firm and teasing strokes. Growling triumphantly, he dipped it into your opening, collecting the slick juices pouring out of you uncontrollably. Your body was enjoying this way too much. You forced your eyes shut to focus when you started bucking your hips, panting loudly when he wrapped his lips around your sensitive bundle of nerves and started to suck on it so fiercely you tumbled towards climax at light speed. He had to stop. He had to stop right now.

Panicking, you attempted to climb off of him—only your thighs and feet would not budge an inch. Loki chuckled darkly, the vibrations of his voice against your petals making you tremble.

“The quality of your restraints is highly questionable, little minx.” He purred against your glistening pussy lips. His cool breath brushed against them as he spoke, making you shiver. Shit. How was this even possible? The rope was supposed to block his magic, not enhance it! You had thought this through! You had to… get away… from him…

A scream escaped your lips when you came all over his face, gushing and contracting around his tongue when he buried it in your core as deep as he possibly could to leap up all you had to offer. Your orgasm cursed through you like liquid gold. You were helpless—helpless against the numbing bliss relaxing your entire body until you had come down from your high, your clit now too sensitive for any more stimulation.

But Loki didn’t stop. He kept going, eating you so ferociously you whimpered. Again and again, his silvertongue flicked over your slit and tortured nub until he had turned you into a whining and sweating mess on top of him and only when he had coaxed two more orgasms from you did he finally lift his magic so you collapsed on the bed.

Unbeknownst to you, he had long freed himself from the rope and now gently but demandingly wrapped his strong arms around your waist, caressing your skin and creating goose bumps all over your body. His hard cock poked against your thighs as he pressed you close against him, promising endless pleasure you would never want to end.

Even if you did not keep your word now and attempted to harm him, regardless of your current, dishevelled and weakened state, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Loki would overpower you within a mere second. As of now, you knew exactly what he wanted from you and strangely, or perhaps it was not surprising at all, you were not going to deny him. He smirked against your neck.

“Now… let us make proper use of those restraints, shall we?”

Ignoring your widening eyes, he snatched your wrists to tie them together, securing them to the bedpost tightly. You wriggled around when his long fingers ghosted over your breasts and sides, breathing in sharply.

“Hmm… it has been so long.” He murmured, licking his lips in joyful anticipation. He could still taste you—you were downright delicious.

“L-Loki…” You mumbled desperately. “Be gentle with me…” Gone were your confidence and quick-wittedness. Loki had not lied to you. You were crazy for him already, utterly at his mercy. How, for Heaven’s sake, could you have assumed you would be strong and skilled enough to take down an actual Norse god?

Chuckling once more, the Trickster lightly stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. His tender touches soothed you.

“Can I make any promises after what you intended to do to me, my dear?” He breathed, causing your heartbeat to quicken. He growled lowly as he forced himself between your legs, spreading you to his liking. Your pussy clenched when your eyes fell on his leaking erection. You wanted this as much as he did—and right now, you didn’t even know what scared you more: the fact that he would most likely take revenge and kill you instead after this dangerous game you were playing or the fact you did not even try to resist. You did not want to.

You wanted to feel him inside of you, you wanted him to fill you—

“Ah!” You gasped when Loki aligned his cock with your dripping entrance and pushed into you, sliding in effortlessly thanks to your own arousal and the amazing orgasms he had given you.

The God of Mischief groaned as you tightened around him, unwilling to let him go again. Frantically and mad from lust, he began to move, pulling out almost completely only to plunge himself back inside of you hard; and without a doubt, he fucked you like you had never been fucked before.

“That’s right, little minx… surrender to me… surrender to the pleasure I am giving you…”

Thrusting into you repeatedly, he seemed to know exactly how to move to drive you crazy, hitting all of your hidden pleasure spots as he toyed with your breasts hungrily, pinching and rolling your hard nipples between his fingers until you came another time, clenching and pulsating around his cock.

An animalistic growl escaped Loki’s lips when he felt your orgasm. It did not take him long to follow you. You felt too good…

He moaned loudly, spilling himself inside you and rocking into you a few more times before he stilled, not bothering to pull out. You would feel him seeping out of you soon enough—and he was certain you could already feel how he had filled you up and marked you as his. Still, your words surprised him.

“That was… amazing.” You whispered out of breath, eyes falling shut. Smiling smugly, Loki got rid of the dagger next to you both, pulling you into his arms. You were going to be so much fun.

Yes… Midgard wasn’t so bad after all. He would make sure you spent Christmas with him.

A/N: Guys, YOU can help me publish my first novel! It’s easy, it’s anonymous, you can do it from all over the world and it’s just 3€! Your help counts too, I’d appreciate it so much if you helped me fulfil my dream! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente

401 notes · View notes

serahsanguine · 5 years

Text

School, Sex and Subterfuge NC-17

ao3

This story is based in 2018/2019.

Mulder is a teacher, Scully is a student. This story is an NC-17 rating. There is no underage sex in my story I researched this before even writing it.

Mulder is known to give extra credit of a sexual kind to Someone special in his class does this person turn out to be Scully? I will let you read and find out.

*******************************************

Notes:

The first Chapter is kind of Scully Pov but most of the chapters thereafter will be both pov and or third person. Also, the characters I am portraying may seem out of charter well one of them at least but as the story goes on this will sort itself out it had to be done this way for the story to work.

*************************************************

First Day, First Meeting

Scully was now in her second year at Stanford University getting her bachelor's degree in Medicine.

She was a sophomore, thank God, because she had hated being a freshman. At least now she was kind of settled. She knew where she had to be on campus and knew the best places to get away from everyone, when she needed time alone. She has mostly the same classes that she had last year, just more advanced versions of those classes. She wasn't much for parties or social gatherings, as she preferred to study and get straight A’s instead of headaches and awkward conversation with strangers. Anything less would not please Ahab, especially with Missy roaming the world. She knew her roommate Serah and a couple of her close friends well and even knew most of the people in her classes. Serah was in most of the same subjects she was, bar a few, like art and music for example.

Scully woke up in her room, the sun was just starting to peek through the musty brown curtains. She groaned to herself and forced herself to roll over, looking over at her clock which sat on her bedside table, moaning again when she read the time - 5 am.

She hated when her body did this to her when it didn't want to sleep or she couldn't get to sleep. She swung her legs off the bed, it wasn't like she was going to go back to sleep anyway and put on some comfortable yoga pants, with a tank top and some bright red Nike Air running trainers. She could probably fit in an hour or two at the gym before the rest of the campus even wakes up. Plus the benefits of being at the gym this early is that no one would be there; meaning no guys wolf whistling or giving her dirty remarks under their breath while exercising.

She exited her room quietly shutting and locking the door behind her trying not to wake Serah, as she definitely was not a morning person. Scully made quick work of getting to the main entrance and across the quad to the west wing of the campus which held the gym and entered the building saying a quick "Hello" to Jim the security guard, before heading straight for the treadmill machine area. She placed her eco-friendly water bottle in the holder, and then put her wireless headphones on before scanning her iPhone and hitting play on Fleetwood Mac and stepped onto the treadmill starting at a light jog then a full sprint. She was so focused on running and what she was listening to that she didn't notice a man enter the room and start running, three treadmills down from her, himself.

An hour passed and Scully had run the sleep deprivation out of her system, and her legs were starting to burn so she slowed her pace and started her cool down. That's when she looked over to see a man in his late 20’s, maybe early 30’s, running hard with sweat dripping off of his face. Scully covertly checked him out - he was about 6ft 1 with chestnut brown hair and tanned skin.

She had never seen this man before but as she studied his physique, she could tell he was athletic, he had brilliant legs and calf muscles. She worked her way up staring at his butt which was nicely shaped and stood out in the very short black workout shorts that he was wearing, continuing up further to his arms she watched his toned biceps and triceps flex and tense as he was really giving this run his all.

The man suddenly turned towards her, looking directly at her and she realised she had clearly been caught checking him out. She started blushing and then he smiled at her and she wanted to look away but she couldn't help but stare back at the man looking appreciatively at her. His eyes are what drew her in, they weren't green but neither were they brown, in fact, they were a lovely shade of hazel; so bright and deep at the same time, they were mesmerizing. She watched sweat drip from his hairline and run down his cheekbones and nose which she did admit was too big for his face but it suited him all the same and didn't diminish how cute he was.

Scully worked her way down his face to look at his gorgeous pouty lips so pink and full - Wow! What she would give to have that bottom lip in-between her teeth sucking and nibbling it. Wow, where did that come from? She smiled back at him and he took off his drenched mesh and cotton tank top, her eyes drifted down of the own accord she could not help but notice the muscles of his chest and the very well defined six-pack on his stomach.

Looking at this beautiful man sent her into a full body flush - her heart racing, her breath was ragged and uneven, a pool of desire building in her stomach. Why was she thinking like this? She had to stop thinking like this immediately but damn she just wanted to shove him up against a wall and have him fuck her senseless!

She had to escape quickly, hopping off the treadmill she walked fast towards the ladies locker room but he was still staring at her as she opened the door and only then did he turn away. She could not help but glance at this man once more before heading for a very cold shower (which desperately needed now), trying not to think of the man she had just encountered and spent no actual time talking to.

After Scully had showered and changed into some light grey jeans and a flowy peach coloured tank top blouse with spaghetti straps, she grabbed herself a coffee and grabbed Serah one while she was at the on-campus coffee shop before walking back to her dorm room.

She arrived at her room and unlocked the door; Serah was already awake and dressed in black stretchy jeans, a black tank top and cropped burgundy hoodie, her long blonde hair was in a messy ponytail and away from her face, making her blue eyes stand out more than they already did.

"Hey Dana’ Serah said cheerfully.

"Wow, look who's up early!" Scully replied sarcastically, with a curiously raised eyebrow.

"Oh, shush you. Is that coffee for me?"

"Well, I don't see anyone else here to give it to, so you might as well have it," Scully said, handing Serah the coffee cup.

"Well, it looks like someone is in a sassy mood on the first day back. Anyone, I know?"

Scully was still surprised at how easily Serah could read her sometimes.

"No. Just some guy I saw at the gym this morning... I didn't even speak to him."

"You may not have spoken to him, Dana, but he has you all hot under the collar I can tell," Serah smirked, then took a sip of her coffee.

Scully could feel a slight redness in her cheeks and a small smile creep across her face.

"Maybe... but you know me and you know that I have no time for men."

"Well, my dear friend. All work and no play makes life very dull indeed. And sometimes you need to play hard and be free... and let go every now and then."

"Maybe I will, sometime"

"Yes but the sometime may never come, Dana"

"What classes do you have today anyway?"

"Mostly same as you Biology and Chemistry but when you have your free period I have Art class then lunch we can meet back up at say two for psychology?"

"Sure, that sounds about right."

"Oh, have you heard the rumours about our lecturer?"

"You know I don't listen to rumour and speculation."

"Well, I know THAT! But they are pretty good and sound rather juicy so do you want to know or not?" Scully nodded, and so without hesitation Serah carried on with her story "Well as I hear it our teacher Mr F. W. Mulder takes one girl under his wing a year and gives her ‘extra credit’" Serah raised her eyebrows as if willing Scully to get the hint but Scully just looked at her friend standing across from her and gave her a sceptical eyebrow. "Anyway, it so happens he purposely fails them so he can take them back to his office and have his way with them. And nobody minds because apparently from what I have heard from the older girls, he is very good looking and fantastic in bed"

"As I said I don't believe in rumour or speculation, and if what you say is true surely he would have been found out and got fired by now."

"You would think so, wouldn't you? But apparently he is from a wealthy family that donates a lot of money to the school... so they look the other way."

"Hmm… we really should get going or we’re going to miss out the first lecture."

"Changing the subject are we?"

"Why yes, I am." They both started laughing.

They casually wandered to their first class sipping their coffees on the way.

Several hours and a number of boring "Welcome back" lectures later. Scully was sitting in her favourite little, off-campus, cafe eating a small Caesar salad with a strawberry and banana smoothie just enjoying the scenery. The weather was warm for Autumn, a good 78 F but there was a light breeze flowing through the trees and flowers offsetting the unusual heat.

What Scully liked most about sitting here was being alone and the peace and serenity of it all - that was until the guy she saw earlier at the gym started walking in her direction. She watched him walk across the small cafe, his hair caught the sun coming through the large windows and his eyes glimmered in the sunlight, he was wearing dark blue jeans that rode low on his hips and a white shirt rolled up on his arms.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" He looked at her directly in the eyes now, and she could feel him burrowing his way into her soul, gesturing towards the empty seat next to her.

"No, it is not." Scully smiled sheepishly at him and watched him sit down across from her.

"It’s nice here. Very open... and yet rustic"

"Yes, it is" Scully felt herself going shy, and was unable to form long sentences.

"I'm sorry to be so forward. I'm not normally like this," he took a short pause before completing his train of thought "You just looked lonely. My name is William, by the way."

"Hello William, I'm Dana" she took his hand and shook it, she felt unable to breathe because of this man sitting in front of her.

"I was wondering if you attended the University?" Scully simply nodded, William took the chance to express what he really wanted to say "Look, I really came over to say that you are a very beautiful woman."

"Thank you," Scully was covered in crimson blush now and she didn't know what to say, she could feel her heart beating hard in her chest, could hear the blood pumping and thrumming in her ears.

"I really must be going, sorry to interrupt your day. It's been nice to meet you, Dana."

"It was nice meeting you, too," Scully answered managing to stumble out the words.

She watched him walk away (eyes distracted by his firm butt). No man had made her lost for words before, no man had really taken an interest in her or at least been so forward about it. She was shocked, to say the least, but very flattered by his attention.

She finished her salad (and smoothie) and made her way back to campus to meet Serah by the water fountain.

"Dana!"

"Hey Serah, are you ready to head to class?"

"Yeah"

Serah picked up her bag and bottled water, said bye to her group of friends and walked alongside Scully. It took about ten minutes to walk to the lecture hall, when they arrived it was already half full. Scully thought two things at that moment It is either a popular subject or he was a very popular man! Serah looked at her as if she knew what she was thinking and grinned.

"It could possibly be both, there a couple of seats over there"

They shuffled through the row of seats to find their spot.

"So, what did you get up to at lunch? You came back a bit flushed."

"I'm fine! Nothing happened." Scully stated, staring off into space and trying not to look at her friend.

"Yeah, right. I heard some more details that should interest you... details about what kind of women he picks for his little game"

"Is that so?"

"Apparently he goes for long haired brunettes and quite tall... or so I have heard."

"Oh, well thank you for the reassurance. Since I'm nothing like that he wouldn't even look at me twice." Scully mumbled while getting her notebook out of her bag.

"Anytime!"

Suddenly the whole lecture hall went quite as Professor F. W. Mulder himself stepped onto the stage at the front of the room. Scully looked up and recognized the man that was about to teach their class, it was William in his blue jeans and white shirt. Their eyes locked onto each other... Shit, she thought.

This was going to be one very long academic year.

#fan fiction #fanfic #AU fanfiction #pre xfiles #the xfiles #the x files #rating: nc17 #part one #Fox Mulder #Dana Scully #mulder and scully #MulderandScully

104 notes · View notes

darlingstardust-fics · 5 years

Note

Hi! Just wanted to say I love your writing and think you are awesome! ❤️ for a prompt I’d like to see please Naru/Sasu and “2 elite spies hired to stalk each other at the same time au” cause I think that’s soo like them 😂 whenever you have time for it, thanks! x

(I have literally been sitting on this answer for months but there has not been a day that goes by that I don’t think about this! I plan on writing more and even drawing some scenes from what I have thought up and become inspired by! You’ve just like opened this new perspective xD I hope you like what I have and I am so sorry it is late! I will have to send you my art from my art blog @darling-stardust

In this au, Sasuke is FTM trans!)

Uzumaki Naruto was a damned idiot and everyone at the sister and rival spy agencies knew it. He may have rushed some moments and been a little trigger happy at times, but above his faults, he was a lousy lover and a dorky guy. He barely knew how to tie his tie half the time and anyone could see that it was a clip on if any tugged on it like Sasuke had before. He had probably one of the worst records out there! So what gives? And why does he suddenly look like James Bond with his blond hair, normally so unruly, slicked back, pure silk bow tie and vest set with his Gucci suit jacket and Prada Oxford loafers?

And what was with that ring and this girl hanging off his arm like he is some sort of God? He had to have been undercover - but for what? This was his gig! He was always stealing his gig!

It was no secret to the rival spy agencies of Konoha Incorporated and Taka Technologies that Uchiha Sasuke and Uzumaki Naruto have had somewhat of a past, in a “friendly” competitive work rivalry and in “love”, as Suigetsu puts it. Naruto is the son of the company’s co founder, so naturally, when an opening was available, he had received proper training and the best weapons and cases money could buy. It didn’t prove to give him any natural skill like Sasuke was graciously given, but he got his work done, one way or another. Corrupt politicians, sleazy B List producers, cheating husbands, and secret murderers all got what they was coming by either company - Naruto was just sloppy in his execution. And Sasuke was bitter. What came from money and power and pacifying a literal brat, he had to practice for years and learn the hard way through blood, sweat, and tears. He learned how to disguise himself, how to move in the night. He had the best training out there, but still, he was upstaged by Naruto more often than none.

Immediately, he decided it would end tonight.

Sasuke had arrived early on the arm of Jugo, the both of them pretending to be a wealthy couple, eager to be invited to the illustrious art gallery investor’s party of the one and only Sai. It was a mission to protect the world renowned artist, and honestly, Sasuke could do it with his eyes closed, but they had been told it was nothing to sneeze at. He had kept his hair down and unstyled for the most part, curls at the ends. He had shimmied into a soft velvet sheath dress with a slit that rose clear past his hip bone and completed his frame with the plunging neckline that hung from thin straps on his shoulders, his Louboutin pumps and Alexander McQueen skull clutch helping him pull off the ensemble. It wasn’t as humiliating as he had thought it would be, but he didn’t miss the male gaze directed towards his thighs and back, as if he were a piece of meat. He was lucky Jugo had been an ex marine, ready to kick ass at the first sign of trouble, not that he couldn’t take care of himself, of course, even if he did wish he had his coat to cover up with when he had become too uncomfortable. Together, the two of them had gone to the bar to scope out the fast filling room, Jugo pulling out his chair.“Don’t look now, but dumbass just walked in.” Jugo whispered to his ear and Sasuke immediately prickled. He turned casually to the door as his partner ordered them both dry martinis, and his blue eyes caught the blond, the pretty girl with the black hair smiling up at him as he told her a joke. It made the raven at the bar press his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he turned away. “If he comes over here, please knock him out. Shisui didn’t tell us that we would have company.” Was all he said into his ear, a smile on his face as he pretended that what he had said in secrecy to his partner was something saucy and special for only the two of them to know. Jugo always caught on and matched his smile and gave him a wink as a response. “Will do, babe.”“Thank you, darling~”

As the night went on and the two of them took their martinis to mingle with other guests and pretend to introduce themselves to Sai as finanical backers, they diligently scanned the room for the men Sai’s booking agent had described, and when they noticed two men in the corner closest to them, talking with a group of art collectors, Jugo stood up straight. “Would you like to go first, or should I?” He asked and Sasuke had let go of Jugo’s arm to glide over to them, giving him his wordless answer.

The looks he received in this moment didn’t bother him. He only felt the gun in his holster and had his eyes on his prize. He was about fifteen feet away, able to see the whites of the eyes of the men he was going to kill when he heard a loud voice that made him stumble so badly that he almost twisted his ankle, a hand on his waist to catch him if he did trip. “Mikoto?” His alias was tossed around so carelessly that he wanted to strangle him. He turned his gaze up to see Naruto, the bright smile that came over his face was enough to make Sasuke’s heart reluctantly flutter but ultimately pissed him off. “I thought that was you.”

Sasuke had moved from him and put his hand on the hip that just had felt Naruto’s grip. “Minato. Why am I not surprised?” His glance moved to the woman who had been on him all night, talking to two other women in pretty bright dresses, sipping the pink champagne that was making the rounds from the caterers. He looked back to Jugo and when they shared a look (the partner asking to proceed and the lead agent giving him the go ahead), he kept alert but glanced up at his peer.

“I came here to support my friend. He did a nude painting of me,” Naruto purred a little bit as he sipped on his own champagne. “Bet you are dying to see that.”“I already have,” Sasuke ho-hummed. “I wasn’t impressed the first time.”

“So that’s why you haven’t called me back~” Naruto wiggled his eyebrows. Sasuke should have slapped him. It would have been a good distraction, but he didn’t need the attention brought to his person when Jugo was advancing. His eyebrow twitched as he took in a deep breath.

“Yes, that must be it. Not because you are immature or can barely dress yourself.”

Naruto feigned insulted. “Dissed by one so great as you? Surely you know all humans have faults.”

“You must have been gifted with the lot.” Sasuke blinked and smiled demurely, wanting so badly to turn around and go back to his fucking mission. He did manage to turn but he was grabbed on the arm by Naruto and was moved from where they stood.

“Come on, Mikoto~ Don’t be like that. Let me get you a drink~” Sasuke tried to rip his arm from his clutch, but he didn’t come free on the first try, promptly giving up to not receive stares their way as he followed the blond to a more secluded area of the ballroom. If anything, Sasuke just deadpanned, thinking of all the things Naruto would pout about and try to relate with him on. It always started the same, but at least he wasn’t drunk this time.

“Would you kindly let me go now?” He asked through gritted teeth. They had exited the ballroom and Sasuke was just getting more pissed. He was interfering. Why? Naruto was going to get his ass kicked to Timbuktu someday. “Minato-”

“No,” Came the reply and Sasuke rolled his eyes again.

“I’m not fucking around. Let me go.”

“No,” Naruto repeated as they walked and found their way to the hallways in the grand hotel. “Not until I get you away from them.”

Sasuke managed to pull his arm back this time but Naruto stopped so abruptly that he barely had time to comprehend his actions. “What are you talking about? That’s my fucking mission-” Naruto took him by the shoulders and started walking him backward down a hallway until their positions could switch. Now, he was being pulled. “Stop! What the fuck are you doing?!” He could yell freely now since they were away from the party and the whole floor was booked solid…

… at least he thought. Naruto pulled out a key card for room 2310 and he was promptly pulled into the dark room. Sasuke was backed up to the door and Naruto had his hands pressed against the cherry oak. Their blue eyes mingled in the small amount of light coming from the orange night sky and the buildings all around them. The Taka agent was about to speak when Naruto whispered low, through gritted teeth. What he said made Sasuke forget his train of thought almost completely for a moment.

“They aren’t here for Sai.”

“What,” he whispered back, really wanting to hit him now. “What are you fucking talking about?”

“Shut up.” He lowered his voice a bit more. “Listen to me. They are not here for Sai. It was a trap.”

Sasuke wanted to laugh. He really did. Was he hearing this right? He put his hands on Naruto’s shirt and used him for balance as he slipped out of the pumps - he proceeded to push Naruto into the main room, knocking him against the dividing wall. Now that they were deeper into the room, he could speak a hair louder. Naruto winced and in an instant, Sasuke had his gun (safety still on) pressed underneath his chin. “You are a God damned idiot if you think that this is a fucking set up. This was my job. How did you even hear about it?” He hissed. “Don’t think I won’t kill you right here, Uzumaki, it would make my life so much easier.”

“Hey, hey, slow down!” He whispered frantically, his pretty eyes pleading. Sasuke was totally in the light, but even with his eyes adjusted, he could see Naruto clear as day. “You think I would joke about this? I’m a spy too.”

“Hardly! You fucking take a quiet piss and you think you’re a damned spy!” He let him go, still pointing his gun at his forehead. “Give me three good reasons why I should listen to you. You have fifteen seconds–”

“Th…That isn’t enough time to–”

“–Fifteen, fourteen, thir–”

“AT LEAST COUNT THE MISSISSIPPIS!” He begged and started to think about what his father told him. “I have email proof from my dad stating from Gaara that they had heard of two men searching for you. Their descriptions matched and after some digging, we found that their names are affiliated with Orochimaru.”

That got Sasuke to stop counting. He stood paralyzed for a moment, slowly lowering the gun. “…Where…” He pursed his lips a moment. “Where have you heard that name?”

Naruto put up his hands and looked apologetically at Sasuke. “I don’t know anyone in our line of work who doesn’t know that name.” He reasoned. “The other two reasons shouldn’t matter. I’m here this time to protect you, not take out those guys. They’re just the decoys.”

“Decoys.” Sasuke repeated.

“I had to be sure we weren’t followed.You still have to keep your voice down, but the girl I was with will let us know if they start to head our way.” He pointed to his ear proudly, as if all agents didn’t use the same equipment. Normally Sasuke would have made fun of him for acting like he was so slick when it was all common knowledge, but he was in his own world. “And if they do, I’ll be ready for them. We will be ready.” Naruto could see the emotion and fear in his eyes from the light in the room and he moved close to press him into his arms. “I’d never do this to get in your way, S’suke. Please believe that.” The raven nodded in his arms, finally understanding what he had tried to do.

“I do,” He whispered and rubbed his eyes. “…I thought I would be past that….fear, but…” He shook his head and he barely felt as Naruto lifted him into his arms, gentle and caring as he brought him to the bed. He was set down so gingerly, Sasuke felt as if he were on a cloud. He glanced up at Naruto, not realizing how close their faces were. They were no stranger to each other as sexual partners, but there was something different about this moment. It made him want to cling to it.

“I’ll keep watch at the door. Call your car and I’ll get Hinata to have Jugo stand down. Shikamaru can escort you out.” Naruto interrupted what felt like them having a moment, but Sasuke didn’t mind. He cleared his throat and looked away. “I know you don’t need protection, Sasuke…But I am happy to do it.”

Sasuke looked up to see a genuine look in the blond’s eyes and a sweet and promising smile on his face. Sasuke was glad his flush wouldn’t show in the dark. He pressed the call button that sat behind his ear and he received a soft beep in confirmation a second later that the car would be pulled around. “…Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I saved your ass only so I could kick it,” Naruto snorted. Sasuke threw a pillow at him that got him to shut up.

#NaruSasu #Sasuke Uchiha #Naruto Uzumaki #Naruto #Naruto Shippuden #Boruto #Trans Sasuke Uchiha #Spy au #this is just a taste of what might come!#my writing #fanfic #ao3 #naruto fanfic

12 notes · View notes

classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 4 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Specs

(Please ignore how awful my gif is)(Requested via message)

(I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in a while!)

- You met Specs while walking to work in the morning. He was out selling his papers when you and a few of the other girls you worked with passed him.

- He quickly snatched the hat from his head as you walked by, eyes seemingly locking onto you even though you were in the middle of a small crowd.

- The two of you met each other’s gaze and without meaning to, your steps began to slow. A small smile found its way onto your face before you hurriedly made your way back to your group. As you reached your friends sides, you spared one last glance at the boy over your shoulder. You were secretly pleased to see that he was still watching.

- Normally Specs wouldn't linger in a selling spot for too long unless it was raking in a good profit. But let’s just say that he had a bit of an ulterior motive when returning to the area.

- Day after day, you would continue to see him while making your way to work. Your friends began to tease you about it, grabbing your arm and giggling in your ear as you passed him. You felt flattered by the attention but you still wondered if he was actually attracted to you and if so, was he ever going to approach you?

- It was after about two weeks that he finally did. You passed his usual selling spot in the morning and found that he wasn’t there. So, with a little dash of disappointment settling in your stomach, you headed off to work and went about your day.

- You walked out the doors of your work at the end of your shift, wiping your hands on your dress and pulling the hair from your face. It was then that you saw him, his body leaned casually against the wall of the building besides yours.

- He kicked himself off of the wall once he noticed you, pulling the hat off his head as he made his way over.

- He tries his hand at a polite, gentlemanly introduction, fiddling with the hat in his hands as he spoke. He “confessed” that he’d been watching you “for a little while now” and explained that he wanted to get to know you more.

- You smiled and agreed, glad that he had finally decided to try his luck with you.

- Your first date was that same day. The two of you walked around town together, getting to know each other and sweetly flirting. By the time you had to return home, you had already promised to see him again the next day.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your fourth date. You’d been sitting together in one of the many alleyways of the city, recounting different stories from your day when you started to notice him looking closely at your face.

- You ignored it for a while, figuring that he was probably distracted by a smudge of dust or paint, something that often found its way onto your face after a long day. It wasn’t until you began to walk home together that you finally learned that there wasn’t anything on your face.

- The two of you were just about to say goodbye when he hesitated for a minute, glancing down at what you finally comprehended was your lips and asking if he could kiss you. Now, how could you say no to that?

- Pda wasn’t exactly very common back then so the two of you keep your affection to yourselves for the most part. Although the newsies are far less worried about public decency and reputations, Specs in particular is trying very hard to be a gentleman for you; at least in public.

- Forehead kisses as he wraps his arms loosely around you, keeping you close to him.

- Never ending pecks on the lips. He’ll keep moving in for another one unless you push him away.

- He’s sort of a geek compared to his fellow newsies; he doesn't do nearly as many crazy stunts as them. Maybe he’s more mature, …or maybe he’s just less coordinated than everyone else.

- Even though he’s a geek, he still does crazy/ridiculous stuff; he just doesn’t do acrobatics while doing so. Locked yourself out of your house? He somehow knows how to pick a lock. Forgot something somewhere? He’ll run all the way back there to get it for you!

- He’s kinda slow in the reflex department; you’ve been his savior more than a few times. You’re probably one of the only reasons his glasses are still intact.

- Specs is generally pretty polite but he is not a morning person at all. Be careful when attempting to wake him up, you may end up snatched and cuddled against your will or aggressively grumbled at.

- All the newsies would absolutely love cuddling with their girls and you cannot convince me otherwise. Some may be more shy than others but they all secretly love it. Specs typically sleeps/rests on his back so he’s pretty fond of the sweetheart cradle.

- He’s not ashamed of the fact that he likes when you baby him but he’ll get extremely embarrassed if anyone somewhat comes close to guessing that he does.

- He may be a little rough around the edges but he always tries to treat you like a lady; at least when he can help it.

- Getting visits while or after he sells his papers.

- He would genuinely wait around for hours just to be able to spend a little time with you. Get off work at seven? Well he gets off at five but he can stand to wait a little. Its worth it, right?

- People are just used to seeing him sitting on a crate outside your workplace, fiddling with whatever he can find to pass the time.

- He has a habit of holding/playing with things when he’s stationary so expect to have your hand occupied quite often.

- Piggyback rides. It may not be proper for a lady such as yourself but frankly, you don't give a damn and neither does he if you don’t.

- Likes bothering you in that playful boyfriend sort of way. You get teased, poked and prodded, especially when the two of you are alone together.

- He’s always got something to say. The two of you could have a full conversation about literally nothing at all.

- He’s happy to let you lean on him. What’s the difference when it’s a cute girl doing it? He’s used to having the other newsies use him as an arm rest so having his adorable girlfriend resting against him is a welcome change.

- I don’t know if it’s just me; but he looks so much better without his ridiculous top hat on?? Thank god he takes it off around you.

- He doesn’t have much; if any, pocket money so you’re not going to have any expensive dates. That being said, he tries to do something nice with what he has.

- Little love letters filled with misspellings and awful grammar. They may not be the most poetic things in the world but you adore them all the same.

- Walking around town together. You may have seen it all a hundred times before but it seems entirely new when you’re with him.

- Cozying up in secluded corners.

- Refers to you as ‘me old lady’ when talking about you to other people. He doesn’t use too many nicknames when talking with you though. He isn’t a big charmer so he isn’t used to the concept. He probably calls you “missy” jokingly but that doesn’t exactly count as a nickname, does it?

- He both follows your orders and disobeys you like you’re his mother. He’s constantly on that line of I will blindly follow you and I will make you make me.

- He may give you a little shit now and again but he’s a ride or die and thats a fact. When it really comes down to it, he has your back no matter what.

- The newsies may not seem like the most sensitive people in the world but Specs is a bit more empathetic than most. He hates seeing people; especially you, all sad or distressed.

- He may not be the greatest at it but he always tries to comfort or cheer you up in any way he can.

- He’s not used to people really caring about him and his wellbeing so it’s always a shock to him when you worry about his safety or try to take care of him.

- You once brought him some food because you were worried he wasn’t eating enough and he nearly cried. You should have seen his face when you handed it to him; it was like you were giving him a hundred bucks.

- Occasionally you’ll sneak him into your house when your parents aren’t home so he can take a warm bath in a tub that he actually fits in and eat a full meal.

- Sometimes the two of you will walk around town together, pretending that you’re both a wealthy couple. You put on posh accents and look through the windows of shops you could never buy from, boasting about how you’ll get this or that and talking about other “rich person” things.

- He saves up money for an entire year just to be able to buy you a Christmas/birthday gift. Either that or he’ll attempt to make you something, usually some kind of newspaper flower.

- How jealous he gets really depends on who it is that he’s meant to be jealous of. If it’s another newsie flirting then he’ll just tell them to get lost but if its someone with more class than him then he feels more threatened. Why would you chose him over some upper class fellow?

- He may act aggressive with the guy but he’s more reserved and feels like he has to take more shit if the fella decides to get smart. He doesn’t want to be put in the refuge for soaking him if his parents take it up with the law.

- Nearly all of the newsies would be protective of their girls and this trait isn’t lost on Specs. He’ll stare down people he doesn't like, keeping you behind him and puffing out his chest whenever they turn up.

- He’s always keeping an eye out for you and lingering around. He usually isn’t too far from your side when he can help it.

- He always stands behind you as you’re sitting down, holding the back of your chair and keeping a close eye on everything that’s going on.

- He’s surprisingly fast on his feet and is an arguably good bullshitter/liar which he used for both good and; occasionally, bad causes. He can’t lie to you very well though; you can always see right through him.

- Most of your fights are pretty trivial so it isn't hard for the two of you to makeup. A lot of the time he’ll just forget that you were fighting or what you were fighting about and continue on like nothing happened or admit that he doesn’t even know what you’re supposed to be bickering about.

- You get a ‘love ya’ every time you’re saying goodbye or whenever he just feels the need to say it.

- The two of you will undoubtedly be pretty nervous when introducing him to your parents. The look on his face when you and your father first laid eyes on each other should be framed.

- He’s genuinely ready to spend the rest of his life with you. He’s one of the older newsies too so marriage might be just around the corner; if your folks will allow it.

#newsies imagine #newsies headcanons #newsies x reader #newsies headcanon #newsies imagines #90s movie headcanon #90s movie headcanons #90s movie imagine #specs imagine #specs headcanon #specs headcanons #92sies imagine #92sies headcanons #92sies headcanon

182 notes · View notes

littlefeatherr · 6 years

Photo

Prompt fill for @maroucia : Mail-order bride modern AU. In a modern Westeros, the North is much poorer than the South and Sansa is lured by all the riches and temptations of the south and so, she decides to offer herself as a mail-order bride. Of course, she catches Sandor’s eyes who himself has turned to the idea because he hates dating seeing that his face is burned and all, but he still would like to find a wife. Read more below or on AO3 here.

Chapter 1

Settling down with a mug of tea, Sansa needed to take a break from job hunting. Opening her tablet, she decided to indulge her favorite escape: perusing vacation blogs, pretending she was planning a visit to the southern countries of Westeros.

While the south was full of cities bustling with diversity, plenty of jobs to be had for the asking, and mild weather, the north never recovered from the war. And the ten year winter season was a burden itself.

The poor economy denied basic resources for northerners, especially since King Joffrey placed tariffs on all the products exported from there as part of a trade war. In the past year, many industries closed. And families that Sansa had known all her life were moving away.

Since her father passed away five years back, there had been huge financial burdens on the family, and Sansa couldn’t bring herself to leave them. So she settled on a local university to continue her dream of becoming a custom dressmaker.

Bran’s snowboard accident happened not long after; in-home physical therapy and medical bills further strained the family funds. Sansa had to quit school and work two jobs. Since their mother spent her time working and caring for Bran, Arya and Rickon grew wilder by the day. Winter had come with a vengeance for the Starks.

Sleet rattled against the windows, shaking her of her recollections. Gods, what she wouldn’t do to be on a southron beach right now. She was determined to reach her dreams, one way or another. She just needed a plan.

Sansa tapped her finger on the bookmark of her favorite blog. Escape to the warm, sun-kissed beaches of King’s Landing! Sansa wished for nothing more. Life seemed so carefree for the people who lived there. The sight of the wealthy, young, tanned and fit men and women frolicking in the waves sent a pang of envy through her.

Sansa couldn’t remember the last time she had a vacation, could barely remember a time when she felt the effortless contentment in the people smiling back at her through the screen of her tablet.

Eagerly she moved onto the second one. The beautiful shores of Port Lannisport, one of the largest, richest cities of Westeros. Come to visit and see it’s prosperity for yourself!

More beautiful, tanned people, Sansa complained inwardly. This time they were wearing swimsuits that barely covered their most intimate places, enjoying champagne under burgundy and gold cabanas of the exclusive Casterly Rock Club.

Yes, Casterly Rock Club was very elegant, but she would feel too out of place there if they even allowed shabby northerners into the place. Every one of the guests was surgically enhanced and dripping in gold and diamond jewelry.

Swallowing hard, her hand instinctively went to the silver and sapphire direwolf charm at her neck, the last nameday gift she had received from her late father. It was a reminder of better times, and the ones she prayed to the gods were ahead for her. She fingered it while whispering a quick prayer to her father before tapping on the next bookmark.

Shop the opulent Lannisport Outlet Mall, your one-stop destination to luxury! Oh, she would much rather visit there! Ever since she was a little girl, Sansa loved embroidery, sewing, and designer clothing.

The scenes showed happy families laughing while eating southern delicacies, bringing up a bitter lump in her throat. Young people in the latest summer fashions carried designer Dornish leather handbags as they shopped and flirted under a shaded canopy.

Wrinkling her nose, Sansa glanced down at her sweats and ratty sweater. When was the last time she went shopping? Aside from The Wall Mart, there weren’t many places to shop near Winterfell - and none of them fashionable. She would definitely need to do some serious online retail therapy if she ever visited Port Lannisport.

Faintly Sansa could hear her mother speaking to someone. On to the next region, she said to herself as she tucked her feet under her legs.

Visit the rugged hills of the Westerlands, the richest lands in Westeros. A landscape dotted with golden, rolling plains and caves from which gold and silver mines pour forth deep veins in astonishing quantities. Abundant gemstones and precious metals mean lower prices on all your jewelry needs!

With widened eyes, Sansa clicked on the pictures of black fertile fields, apple orchards, Pinot grape vineyards, and Black Mission fig tree groves. Further inland lay dense maple forests that opened up to crystal blue lakes and river rapids, reportedly renowned worldwide for whitewater rafting.

Gemstones of all kinds, gold and silver jewelry, beautiful log homes in the verdant foothills all caught her attention. Oh, she would definitely visit the Westerlands first! The featured delicacies and riches were sensational!

But how could she go? The family barely had enough money to get by; not many opportunities presented themselves as of late. Her gaze fell on a bookmark icon for a mail-order bride broker she had set up months ago. Missandei’s Marriage Brokerage Suite. Let us help you find your perfect match with a beautiful, northern bride of your choosing.

That’s one way to get south. And if I’m chosen, I could put my husband’s fee in a trust for Bran. From what Sansa had seen on the website, Lannisport and King’s Landing was teeming with beautiful women, but the farming areas surrounding them were not heavily populated. The men there depended on agriculture and vacationers for their incomes – jobs that left little time for meeting potential partners.

Her mother’s voice pulled her out of her fantasies - and back to the dreary reality of life. Stern Aunt Lysa was impatiently tapping her foot; Sansa had been so caught up in her musings that she didn’t realize she’d entered the room.

“Sansa, are you daydreaming again? Put down the tablet for a moment, please.”

Her mother had a way of saying “please” that sounded anything but polite, especially when she was about to lecture to one of her children.

No wonder Arya and Bran are nowhere to be found. Suppressing a sigh, Sansa braced herself and turned to face them.

“I cannot understand for the life of me why you haven’t yet settled down with someone and moved out,” Catelyn began. “I was married for four years at your age.”

“Mother-“

“It’s all I can do to keep Winterfell let out, and food on the table for Arya and Rickon, and Bran with all the medical bills, I can’t afford to feed you too.“

“Mother, I know,” Sansa struggled to remain respectful. Ever since she turned eighteen, this had become a well-worn topic between them, and at twenty, Sansa had already said all she had to say on the subject.

Enter Aunt Lysa.

“That is why I started college,” Sansa pulled her mother close, “so I could make real money, not just the little I bring doing housekeeping and selling on Etsy.”

“And what good did it do you? You knew from the start that we could ill afford it, but you were determined to waste what little money your father left you on it.“ Aunt Lysa interjected. "And here you are, squandering your days on that damned tablet!”

Her words stung. “I wanted to help the family by having an actual career. I thought maybe I could open a clothing store and help the local economy, but there aren’t any opportunities here.” Sansa stepped away and wrung her hands.

Exasperated, Aunt Lysa shook her head. “Always with the dreams. Well, it’s time you grew up. Take your educated self south, Miss.”

“I would love to go, but since I, as you say, wasted my money on education, I don’t have a way.”

Aunt Lysa and her mother exchanged a look. "Uncle Petyr lives in King’s Landing in the famed Red Keep and he’s offered to take you in. You could work with his showgirls’ costumes-“

Tears stung Sansa’s eyes, for this, too, was a familiar and unpleasant topic between the three of them.

“No, absolutely not! He’s not my uncle, so I wish you both would stop with that! And they aren’t showgirls, Aunt Lysa, they’re sex workers!”

"Ungrateful child!” Aunt Lysa sputtered. “This family has no better friend than Petyr, especially since your father and Jon both-”

Sansa rolled her eyes.

“Sansa that is just a terrible rumor started by jealous people trying to discredit him.” Catelyn insisted.

“So that’s the official party line he has you two repeating.“

Catelyn gaped at her, but Sansa went on, “He’s always staring at me in the grossest way. Sending me friend requests on my social media. He’s a stalker.“

“Sansa, that’s your college third wave feminism talking! Petyr is old-fashioned, and he’s not about to hide that he’s interested in you. What’s wrong with that?” Aunt Lysa fumed.

“What’s wrong is that I’ve made it clear that I don’t want his attention - and yet he refuses to take no for an answer!” Sansa set her jaw. “If you like him so much, why don’t you go live with him and leave me alone?”

Catelyn pinched Sansa’s arm. “By the gods, Sansa, you can be just as willful as Arya at times!”

She jerked away from her.

“You don’t have many options. So, it’s either go with your Uncle Petyr, young lady, or get in touch with a marriage brokerage.”

“A marriage brokerage? To offer myself as a mail order wife?” Sansa’s nervously considered the possibility. It was an honorable way to find a husband and definitely a good opportunity…

“Petyr offered to do it himself, but I don’t like your attitude, so you just do it on your own!” Aunt Lysa hissed. "Just go on and become a mail order bride on one of those bargain sites and see what kind of monster you end up with!”

“Whoa, wait just a minute - Petyr offered to buy me outright, didn’t he?!” Sansa shouted. “And not just for my sewing skills!”

Catelyn side eyed her. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Mother-”

“I married your father as a mail-order bride.” Her mother arched her brow.

Great, another guilt trip.

“And I married your Uncle Jon as one, the Seven rest him.” Aunt Lysa added, even though Sansa had turned her back to her. “You have a duty to your family. It’s time you made good on it.”

“We need the money, Sansa, and there aren’t many prospects up here-“ her mother gestured to the shabby conditions around them, “and Bran and Arya and Rickon need me. What would you have me do?”

“Stop being so selfish, Sansa!” Aunt Lysa shouted.

“Good gods, Aunt Lysa, even the marriage agencies give women the right to choose their husbands!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sansa fought to calm her temper and think rationally. Perhaps if I joined up with one of the free sites, I will find a nice man, settle in with him and who knows? Love might follow. It worked out pretty well for my mother. Less so for my aunt.

Biting her lip, Sansa thought it over. Could she really muster up the courage to reach out to a strange man? To be his wife, and share his bed?

Sansa had already looked at a few sites, and they didn’t seem so bad; each one had ways and means to ensure successful matches. The only caveat was the marriage had to be consummated the day of the wedding, and if they didn’t get along by the end of the trial period, Sansa would need to return the money - and to the north.

Excitement and a bit of fear took hold of her, while Sansa’s silence increased her mother’s unease.

“Stop that lip nibbling, Sansa, it’s unladylike and a disgusting habit you picked up from Arya. So what will it be: go stay and work with Uncle Petyr, or become a mail order bride?”

Sansa had so little ownership of her own life since her father died. Yet today she would regain control, snatch it out of thin air, all for herself.

“Fine, Mother, I’m going to do it my way. I’ll meet with a marriage brokerage as soon as possible.”

Without a word, she picked up her tablet and left the room, leaving her mother crying over her ungrateful daughter and her aunt harping on her duty to the family.

#sansan #sansa x sandor #sansa stark #sandor clegane #sansan fanfiction #loong post

32 notes · View notes

flickerofcalum · 5 years

Text

once bitten, twice shy | part five

part one // part two // part three // part four // masterlist

She missed him in a lot of ways, but she hadn’t realized how much she missed just hanging out with him. But she knew that a friendship with him could never be simple, and the idea of letting him back into her life even a little bit was scary. She wasn’t sure if she could handle having Luke walk out of her life a second time.

Picking out a Christmas tree was one of Brinley’s favorite Christmas traditions. She loved the smell of fresh pine and how every tree was a little bit different in its own way. When she was younger, she would spend hours dragging her mother through the rows of the trees, examining each and every one until she found the perfect tree. Now, though, her mother had to work a lot more during the holiday season, and Mallory had never really gotten into the whole Christmas tree hunting the way Brinley was into it. So, for the last few years, she had been dragging Olivia along with her.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just get one of those artificial trees. They’re a lot less messy, and you don’t have to get a new one every year,” Olivia said as they walked through the rows of trees. She was all bundled up in the cold and still managed to look like she could walk down a runway at any second. “It’s fuckin’ cold out here, Brin.”

Brinley rolled her eyes, shoving her own gloved hands in her coat pocket, trying to warm up. “You don’t understand because your mother hires someone to decorate your house every year. You’ve never experienced the joy of picking out a Christmas tree and decorating it yourself.”

Olivia scoffed. “It doesn’t sound very joyful. It sounds like a lot of work.”

Sometimes, it was a wonder that she and Olivia were friends since they were so different from each other. Olivia had grown up with extremely wealthy parents and was loud, bold, fashionable, and a little bit spoiled. In contrast, Brinley was much more soft-natured and rarely liked to have attention on her. Growing up in a single parent household, she’d grown up rather quickly and was a lot more mature than most people her age. However, she and Olivia balanced each other out very well. Olivia brought out a more relaxed, fun-loving side of Brinley and she brought out a more mellow and down to earth side to Olivia. That was what made their friendship so perfect.

Brinley tuned out Olivia’s whining as they walked, her eyes looking over every detail of the trees they passed. Some were too short, others too wide, some had limp branches that would do nothing to hold up ornaments. She knew she was being picky, but she was determined to find the perfect one even if it took all day.

Suddenly, Olivia grabbed her arm to stop her. “Okay, don’t freak out – but Luke and Michael are over there.”

The girl groaned at the mention of Luke. She hadn’t seen him since the Christmas play only two days before and had started to think that maybe he was just messing with her when he said he wasn’t going to go away, but now it seemed like that wasn’t the case. “Please tell me you didn’t invite them.”

“Of course not!” Olivia insisted, looking a bit offended. “I… may have mentioned to Michael that we would be here, but I didn’t think that meant they were going to show up.”

Brinley really didn’t understand her best friend sometimes. Olivia usually was very independent and strong-willed, but Michael Clifford was her weakness. The two of them had been doing this whole on again, off again friends with benefits thing since their junior year of high school, and no matter how many times they fought or how many other people they dated, they always ended up going back to each other. Watching them dance around their feelings each other had gotten exhausting a long time ago.

“Okay, they’re coming over here, can you check my lipstick?” Olivia asked, gripping onto Brinley’s wrist gently and puckering her lips at her.

She sighed. She knew there was no point in trying to run away, especially now that Michael and Olivia had laid eyes on each other. “Your lipstick looks great, as always,” Brinley muttered, absentmindedly fixing her own hair and stopping herself once she realized what she was doing. She didn’t want Luke to think she wanted to look good for him, even though she was more self-conscious around him now than she had ever been.

Once the boys approached them, Olivia immediately wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck and practically melted into him. Brinley had to admit they were cute, and she knew how much they cared about each other. She didn’t understand why they couldn’t just admit it and allow themselves to finally be in a relationship.

After watching them for a moment, she turned her gaze to Luke who was already staring at her with those ridiculously beautiful blue eyes. He looked cute, all wrapped up in a navy coat that looked a little too big on him, snowflakes in his hair and on the tips of his eyelashes. Brinley wondered what terrible thing she had done in a past life to deserve such a beautiful specimen as an ex-boyfriend.

“Hi,” Luke said gently, his arms wrapped around himself. She knew how much he hated the cold and wondered why he would even put himself through the torture of coming out here.

Brinley chewed on her bottom lip. “Hello,” she replied, schooling her face into a neutral expression. “I know Liz taught you better than to stalk someone.”

Luke shrugged. “Michael wanted to see Olivia. I just tagged along.” He gave her an innocent look. “Find the perfect tree yet?”

She ran hand through her hair a bit nervously, shaking her head. Before they broke up, Luke was the one who went with her to pick out a tree every year. He was always so patient about it, holding her hand as she pulled him along and quietly offering her his opinions, never once complaining no matter how long it took her to pick one out. He was also one of the only people who knew the reason why she loved picking a tree out so much: it was one of the only good memories she had of her father before he’d left them when she was six years old.

Olivia cleared her throat, stealing Brinley’s attention away from Luke’s face for a moment. “I think Michael and I are going to get some hot chocolate. Do either of you want anything?” She asked innocently.

Brinley shot her a glare. She was pretty sure “getting hot chocolate” was code for finding a secluded area to make out in, and Olivia was going to abandon her in her time of need.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll stay with Brin,” Luke offered sweetly, because of course he did. Everyone in the world was out to get her.

She sighed as Olivia mouthed an apology to her and watched as she walked away hand and hand with Michael. She jumped at the sound of Luke’s voice.

“You think those two are ever going to get their shit together?” He nodded in the direction of their friends.

Brinley shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, I don’t really get it, but they seem pretty happy with the way things are.”

Luke snorted. “I don’t know about that. You should hear the sappy shit Mike’s been writing lately.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, trying her hardest not to outwardly smile. “He’s been writing songs about her? That’s actually really cute.” Brinley hadn’t really expected Michael to be so romantic, but then again, he never really did what people expected of him. “If he feels that way then why doesn’t he just tell her?”

“I guess he’s scared,” Luke replied. “Sometimes saying things in a song is easier than saying them out loud.”

Brinley rolled her eyes. “They’ve been in love with each other for years. He doesn’t have anything to be afraid of.”

“Just because you’re in love with someone doesn’t mean it’s going to work out.”

Her cheeks flushed as she felt Luke’s eyes on her. She suddenly didn’t think they were discussing Olivia and Michael anymore, and she did not like the direction the conversation was going. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to see what happens. Now, come on. If you’re going to follow me around, the least you can do is help me pick out a tree.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Nearly an hour and a half later, Brinley watched as Luke and Michael hoisted the Christmas tree on top of her car. She couldn’t deny that she’d had fun with Luke – he still knew to make her laugh harder than anyone else ever could and he was still just as patient with her when picking out the tree. She missed him in a lot of ways, but she hadn’t realized how much she missed just hanging out with him. But she knew that a friendship with him could never be simple, and the idea of letting him back into her life even a little bit was scary. She wasn’t sure if she could handle having Luke walk out of her life a second time.

She was watching Luke and Michael throw snow at each other whenever Olivia came up next to her, holding out a Starbucks cup for her. “I got you a Peppermint Mocha,” she said, throwing an arm around Brinley’s waist once she took the cup.

“So, you two really did go get hot chocolate,” she teased. “I’m surprised.”

Olivia scoffed. “Of course, we did!” She said. “After I blew him in the back seat of his car.”

Brinley snorted, nearly spitting out the sip of coffee she’d just taken. “Oh my god, you guys are seriously insatiable.”

“You and Luke used to be so much worse,” Olivia insisted, sticking out her tongue.

The girl looked back over at Luke and bit down on her bottom lip. She and Luke had always been terrible at keeping their hands off of each other when they were together. Luke was the most affectionate person she’d ever met – he’d always wanted to hold her hand or to have his arms around her waist, always pressing soft kisses to her lips even when she was in the middle of a conversation. Brinley really hadn’t been much better. It had been hard for her to keep her hands off Luke when he was just so damn cute all the time.

“You guys seemed to get along today,” Olivia said when she didn’t answer, breaking Brinley out of her thoughts.

Brinley took another sip of her drink, trying to gather herself before she spoke again. “Yeah, we had fun,” she said softly.

Olivia squeezed her waist gently. “It’s okay to want him back in your life, you know. Mikey says he misses you a lot.”

Brinley’s heart began racing a bit, but she tried to ignore it. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Liv. You know how bad it was when he left last time. I can’t do that again.”

Her friend sighed and turned to face her. “I know, but I also know deep down you kind of want to give him another chance again. Even if it’s just as a friend.”

She pressed her lips together. Of course she did, but things weren’t that simple. “I just don’t know if I can trust him.”

“Wellllll,” Olivia said, her eyes hopeful. “I have the perfect opportunity for you to find out.”

Brinley raised an eyebrow, immediately skeptical of whatever her best friend was planning. “I don’t like the look on your face right now.”

Olivia scoffed. “Hey! Just hear me out. It’s been forever since we’ve been to parents’ cabin upstate. I thought we could make a weekend of it – you, me, Mikey, Cal, Ash, Luke…”

“That is the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Brinley insisted. Back in high school, they’d taken weekend trips to that cabin every few months and it always ended up with them getting wasted all weekend. She didn’t think getting drunk around Luke was going to help anything.

Olivia bit her bottom lip. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Plus, I already told the guys, and if I can’t convince you then I’m gonna be forced to sic Ash on you.”

She groaned a bit, looking back over at Luke. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to spend a little more time with him, just to feel things out and see if maybe they could be friends again. Still, a niggling feeling in her stomach was telling her it wasn’t a good idea, and she was opening her mouth to say no when Luke suddenly looked over from her. A wide smile bloomed on his face once she caught his eye, causing that fluttering feeling to return to her chest.

“Alright,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m in.”

@jetblackyoungblood @dontstopisagoodsongchangemymind @verymerrycalum

#luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings imagine #5sos blurbs #kelly writes #obts

18 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 5 years

Text

Survey #192

“i’d love to give you wings, but babe, you’ve got to grow them.”

Where have you lived throughout your life? The same general area in North Carolina. Do you find your job rewarding? N/A What kind of cake did you have for your last birthday? I'm sure it was red velvet. To you, which is better: English muffins or bagels? I enjoy both, but bagels. Do you paint your nails? No. What’s the last website you signed up for? Good question... maybe a feral dog RP forum I was considering making a character on? Do you check your email everyday? I'm getting into the habit. Have you created any pages on Facebook? Yeah. Is there a subject that you absolutely suck at? Social studies/history, math. What’s your favorite song by Dave Matthews Band? I have no idea who that is. Are there people you have absolutely nothing in common with, but still enjoy talking to? Maybe? Have you ever wandered around drunk with your friend? No. Are you good at holding back your laughter if needed? Nooo, not at all. Have you ever been so unfortunate to suffer from a hangover? No. Have you ever had a panic attack? Plenty. Are you deathly allergic to anything? No. Have you ever had a mouse in your house? Yeah. In our old one, anyway. Do you know anyone who DOESN’T have an ex? Not personally, I think. Is anyone you know really religious? Welcome to the South. Yes. Are your eyebrows naturally thick? I'd say they're average. Has speaking in front of people ever made you sick? No. I haven't spoken in front of an actual audience since my senior project, though. It was hard, but I think I did well. What was the last movie that made you teary-eyed? I'm not sure. Moana may have gotten me a bit teary? But if no, Coco absolutely did. Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other? I think "hate" is a strong word for it. Has a laptop ever burned your legs? Yes. I legitimately had dark spots on my right leg for a long while. Do you know anyone who has a scar through their eyebrow? Juan. Who was the last person to flip you off? Idk, but I'm sure it was playfully. Anyone’s birthday coming up soon? Miiiine! And my friend Alyssa's. Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? Sure, in rare circumstances. Are you good at following directions? No. I have zer-O sense of direction. Do you have someone that you can just act a fool with and not care? Sara. From where you’re sitting, can you touch a wall? Yeah, behind me. When at a restaurant, do you put your napkin on your lap? Not unless I'm with my grandmother. She's extremely "proper" about things. Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners? Electric. Are your biceps at all noticeable? No. Have you ever seen a walrus? Are there any at SeaWorld? Otherwise, no. When it comes to dropping food, do you believe in the 10 second rule? HELL NO. I'm a germaphobe with that stuff. If given the opportunity, would you ride on a camel? Sure? Do you believe that cellphones actually do cause cancer? I don't recall the science behind this theory, so idk. When people you know cry, does it make you feel like crying too? Oh yes, especially if it's someone I'm very close to. Particularly, I can't handle Mom, my sisters, or Sara crying. I've never seen Dad cry, but if he ever did, I know I would bawl. Do you tend to jump to conclusions? Was this written as a direct @me??????? Are you good at remembering your friends’ birthdays? NOPE. I only remember... Sara's, Connie's, Caleb's (just because it's on Halloween), Shaylee's, and that's literally it out of friends/acquaintances. Is there something you need to do, that you’re trying to avoid doing? Actually use WiiFit. I'm doing periodic exercises throughout the day, but I need to dedicate more and be able to see my center of balance. Ever pop someone else’s pimple? NONONONONO IT'S SO GROSS TO ME How long does it take you to fall asleep? No less than 15 minutes, I think usually more. Do you crack your neck often? I can't. Did you have a weird dream last night? OH MY GOD YES. I was awkwardly with one of my acquaintances at his house somehow????? and we both seemed very uncomfortable??????? and I think I was high or some shit???????????????? I don't even know this person well enough to like-like him?????????????? Who do you sometimes compare yourself to? My sisters and successful friends. Are you more worried about doing things right, or doing the right things? Doing the right things. But I aim for both. In what way are you your own worst enemy? I criticize. The. Hell out of everything I do. What activities make you lose track of time? Video games. When you help someone do you ever think, “What’s in it for me?” Full offense, you're an absolute dick if you do that. Who do you tell your secrets to? Nobody really unless there's reason to, and only ever Sara, Mom, or my therapist. Who do you live with? Mom and the pets. When did/will you graduate? '14 for high school. Idk when I will for college, gotta get there first... When are you moving next? Probably when Sara and I are ready for our own place. When is the last time you took a vitamin? I have to twice a week now, so Thursday, because I have an incredible vitamin D deficiency, and that's probably what's causing my knee problems. Why are you stressed? The everlasting weight loss struggle. Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? No. Where do you keep your birth certificate? It's in a safe. How many books are in your room? Uhhh like three? Then one coloring book. Have you ever been IN a wedding? I was the immensely triggered and ugly bridesmaid at my older sister's. Weddings were a very sensitive thing to me at the time, so while I was so happy for Ashley, I had a very difficult time and cried numerous times. What was the last thing you laughed out loud at? I think during a Mark video? Do you have a nickname? Why? "Britt" for obvious reasons, and Mom's called me "Twinkie" since I was a baby. She gave all her children sweets-based nicknames. Fuck out my face if you think that ain't the cutest damn thing. Have you ever had a bad concert experience? No. When was the last time someone told you that you were beautiful/good-looking? Do people often tell you this? I think the last time was when Sara said I looked really pretty with eyeliner on and I just eeeeeeeeeek. I'm not often told it. Are you missing someone of the opposite sex atm? Not romantically. I'd like to see Girt as a bud; I'm gonna invite him to my birthday dinner to hang out. Hopefully he doesn't have work. Want someone back in your life? Yes. Are you currently sad about anything? Weight. Unbelievable difficulty getting my fucking transcript and inability to find my ACT score so I can go back to school. Are you wearing anything shiny? My lip ring has gems on it, and they shine a bit in the right light. How important is a sense of humor in a significant other? I need it. I don't think I could really enjoy a constantly serious person as a partner. How many followers do you have on Twitter? Idk, don't care to check. I only ever use it to be able to like Mark's shit lmao. Do you sleep with the door open or closed? Open so Roman can go in and out. Have you ever been to the beach? Multiple times. Can you handle blood? Doesn't bother me a bit. Do you pay your bills or do your parents? My parents. I have no source of income to. What’s your best friend’s middle name? Jane. Has any place hired you underage for a job? No. Have you ever barely passed a grade/year in school? In college courses when my mental state was at its worst. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No. Have you ever tried to sell something overpriced to someone? No, I don't think so. Do you plan to become very wealthy some day? "Very" is unlikely, but I am dead serious about being at least perfectly financially stable one day. I refuse to live how I have my whole life so far, wondering if rent will be paid each month 'n things like that. Do you remember your first time going to the movies? No. Does eating breakfast make you sick? No. Are you dying to say something to someone right this minute? No. Well, not dying to, but after this whole revelation I had, I really want to apologize to Jason. I wasn't without evil in how I responded to and treated him after the breakup. Book series you enjoyed reading recently? I haven't read a series in years. Do you enjoy lying in the grass during the summer, and just existing? Nooo. Summer sucks and lying in grass is super uncomfortable. Do you have a passport? If so, how many stamps do you have in it? No. Are there any keys on your keyboard that have letters fading away? Not fading, but literally gone from the keyboard because this one is horrible, even after being "fixed" or replaced (idr). No joke, 21 are gone. Sooo I have to smash those buttons for the sensor or whatever to understand I'm pressing them, to the point my fingers, especially right pointer, are mildly callused. Do any of your close friends have children? No close ones, but one I'm hoping to reconnect more with it expecting. What do you plan on having for dinner? Probably a sandwich and nutrition shake to get enough calories to take my medicine and get the intended effect. Do you like Chinese food, or do you find it disgusting? The only things I enjoy now are fried rice and eggrolls, but I used to like sweet and sour chicken and bird on a stick or whatever its proper name is. Have the police ever come knocking on your door looking for someone? Once. Know anybody who works in a tattoo parlor? We're not like, "real" friends, but I know a good number of and get along great with the employees at the parlor I'm a regular customer at. I want to work there so badly. Small, environment I feel at home at, great people. Have you ever played flashlight tag? Don't even know what that is. Could you call yourself a movie buff? Not at all. Have you ever had a piercing get infected? A second hole in one of my earlobes, and the first time I got my tongue done, there was an abscess inside that indicated one was likely to form. Thank God that the rollercoaster of The Tongue Piercing Woes has ended. Do you check your fire alarms when you’re supposed to? Mom does occasionally. Are you a shorts wearing kind of person? NOOOOO MY LEGS ARE NOT OKAY. Plus I chafe. Is your grandparents’ house obsessively tidy? Ohhhh I'm sure. I haven't been to her house since I was a kid, but I remember it being like, pristine. Her rooms at her son's is neat as hell too. About how much can you bench press? I have no clue. Have you ever had your phone die on you in the middle of a conversation? Yeah. Is anybody in your family a carpenter? Not to my knowledge. Are you avoiding someone? No. Do you call your boyfriend “Monkey”? I have a gf, and I have never in the least understood how that's a term of endearment. What’s your favorite primary color? Red. What were you for Halloween? Nothing, ugh. I haaave to dress up this year. Do you have any clothes from Walmart? Yeah. When did you get a Facebook? I have no clue. What color are your eyes? Grayish-greenish blue. What motivates you? How far I've already come, wanting a better future than I have now, encouragement from friends, family, my therapist, and psychiatrist, the drive to thoroughly enjoy my one mortal existence. Can you walk in heels? Not well. When was the last time someone asked you your age? Ummm, last time I got something done at the parlor, I think? Do you keep a journal? No. Have you ever tried a weird flavor of vodka? No. Do you wear a ring on your finger? One, my friendship ring with Sara. What are you doing? This, listening to Asking Alexandria's "Closer" NIN cover (no shame), and waiting for Girt to reply on Facebook. What’s the last kind of soup you ate? A bit of vegetable. Do you currently have a sunburn? No. Who did you last text? Mom. Who’d you last call? About what? My old college to find out why I couldn't get my fucking transcript after weeks upon weeks of being directed to different people about it. I regret going there immensely. Complete waste of time and money. Are you currently frustrated with someone? I'm really frustrated at myself. Do you drink water or soda more often? I'm actually not sure... Do you straighten your hair? No. When did you last talk to your brother or sister? One, not since Christmas, and the younger, a few days ago. All my half-siblings have been forever, and one I've never spoken to. What is your least favorite vegetable? Probably asparagus. Or beans. Outside of family, name 3 people that make you smile/laugh often. Sara, Mark, Shane Dawson. In school, what subjects did you achieve your highest grades in? English or art, idr. Was there a subject that you enjoyed, but weren’t too good at? No. When was the last time something didn’t go to plan? What happened? Being into what's called "vulture culture" now (at least to a certain degree), I searched for quite a while for the bones of the very first opossum I photographed (I have a photography "series" focused on exposing the horror of roadkill to hopefully influence people to be more careful and vigilant), but despite thorough searching, I couldn't find it. Gruesome, but Mom speculated the remains were destroyed by whoever mows the grass there. Do you have any children? If not, at what age do you think you’ll feel ready to be a parent? No, and never. When was the last time you bought a new item of clothing? Describe it. Uhhh. I seriously have no clue. Maybe some underwear months ago. Was your last Facebook friend request from a male or female? Idk who the last person was. Do you have an item of clothing that makes you feel especially beautiful? Describe it. No. Think of the last person that betrayed you. If they said they were sorry, would you forgive them? I can literally almost guarantee Colleen shared our whole goddamn conversation and shit on Facebook after our last talk, as she did the first time too. Too many times our business became everyone's. I'd forgive her, but I refuse to ever be friends again. Nastiest thing you've ever done? I hate talking about this, but okay. When I was deep into my suicidal depression phase, I had a hard time brushing my teeth as needed. Like... I wouldn't for days. I avoided brushing my hair as long as I could too. Anyone who doesn't believe in how deeply depression is capable of chaining you down and making vital things almost impossible, go get fucking educated. Have you ever been in a lighthouse? No. What color is your shower? White. Where do you order your pizza from? Ideally Domino's, but sometimes Little Caesar's. When is the last time you had a serious talk with someone? Yesterday. Do you find that you have a certain meal you eat every time you go to certain restaurants? Oh yes. I rarely try something new. What color is your bike? N/A What word can you not stand to hear people say? The “n” word. What room of your house are you in? My bedroom. What is the temperature in your city right now? Apparently 38 F. When did you last use a post-it-note? No idea. Would you ever want to own your own restaurant? No. Do you have a fan in your bedroom? I have three lmao. My room is unbearable in the summer. Who is the last person that you took a picture with? Sara. When is the last time you were stuck in a fairly long traffic jam? A couple months or so back when there was an accident. Do you have certain friends that you hug every time you see them? All my friends. When was your most recent trip to an aquarium? 2016 visit to the beach. We went to the aquarium there and it absolutely sucked. What do you like in your salads and what dressing do you prefer? Just lettuce (but I can also handle cucumbers) and the Olive Garden dressing. If it has one, do you ever use the notepad function in your phone? Occasionally. Rn I have tattoo ideas written in it. Surprised? How good would you say your memory is? Absolutely horrible, lately worse than ever. I worry about it quite a bit. About how many times during the night do you wake up from your sleep? Once or twice. Are there any air fresheners in your house? What kinds? Not currently on or anything. What’s one thing you’re glad you’ve done recently? Improved on picking up the phone when I don't know the number. Have you ever done something sexual that you regret? Well, I've talked about flirting with my friend's bf as a pre-teen, and it wasn't always innocent, if you count that as "sexual." I regret the hell out of it. Do you like to sit in the sun and tan when it’s hot out? NO. Ever had a person who was obsessed with you so much that it scared you? Yes, Tyler. I wasn't like, terrified, but preeeetty uncomfortable. Can you drive, and if you can, do you like it? I can, but I'm not that great, and I absolutely hate it. Have you ever said anything to the last person you kissed that you regret? Yes. Do you like french fries? Hell yeah. Have you ever eaten so much you puked? No. Do you care about what others think of your physical appearance? People whose opinions I care about. Would you rather go to Greece or France? Probably Greece.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #lyrics: ''get up'' by mother mother

9 notes · View notes

twatd · 6 years

Text

6000 Years of Murder – Part Two: Sun Kings Last A Long Time

Tim: The Wicked + The Divine #36 finally gave us a definitive list of every damn Recurrence that has occurred since Ananke first started exploding heads, so we thought we’d take a walk through the annals of history and provide some context for what was happening at the time. Welcome to 6,000 Years of Murder.

In our second octet of Recurrences, the Bronze Age starts to get some traction, Egypt and Northern China dominate our Early Civilisation Showcase, and it’s still Big Boi Season when it comes to proboscideans. Spoilers (for real-world history, mostly) after the cut.

3128BC – Egypt Gillen notes in the letters page for this issue that he could easily have spent many, many pages of this section purely in Egypt. And while that’s clearly not what ended up happening, this little chunk of eight panels spends almost half its time there – and for good reason. In 3128BC, we’re just over 20 years into the reign of Menes aka Narmer, the first pharaoh to unify Upper and Lower Egypt (aka the upper Nile River and the Nile Delta respectively) and the founder of the First Dynasty.

It’s during this period, which lasts until around 2686BC, that the capital will move from Thinis to Memphis, and many of the hallmarks of what we think of as Ancient Egypt will emerge, from hieroglyphics to architecture to religion. This period is also when the idea of the pharaohs as god-kings, acting as intermediaries between the divine and the people of Egypt, emerged.

3036BC – Crete Egypt isn’t the only place where interesting stuff is happening, however. In nearby Crete, the Minoan civilisation is beginning to get into the swing of things. While the Bronze Age proper won’t truly arrive for a couple of hundred years, Crete during this period holds the “promise of greatness”, according to Kinder & Hilgemann in the Anchor Atlas of World History.

As time goes on, the early Minoan cities will become centres of commerce and craftsmanship, enabling the development of an upper class that will expand their influence and eventually become nobility and monarchy. The Minoan culture will go on to form the template for the Mycenaean Greeks, basically the beta test for what we think of as Ancient Greece. Which I guess makes this Recurrence the buggy pre-alpha for Socrates et al, and may explain why this is one of the few glimpses we get of a young Ananke/Minerva/whatever you want to call her.

2942BC – Japan We cross over into the 30th century and Ananke’s latest trip takes her further East than she’s ever been before, to Japan during the Early Jōmon period. As a relatively isolated island nation with little in the way of domesticated animals, Japanese culture at this point is comparable to pre-Columbian North America, i.e. hunting and gathering with a sprinkling of agriculture. The name Jōmon comes from distinctive pottery produced during this period, generally accepted to be among some of the oldest in the world.

To get more specific, as the Jōmon period stretches on for a long damn time, the culture at this point was relatively sedentary, with pit-houses and large pottery vessels not suited to frequent travelling. Japan was undergoing a population explosion at the time, and sustained itself with small-scale agriculture including soybeans, gourd and even peaches. (Mmm, peaches.) Fish was also a big deal, both along the coast and in deep-water lakes. The Jōmon period will remain relatively stable until around 300BC, when the Iron Age hits Japan and rice farming takes off in a big way.

2849BC – Northern China Between this Recurrence and the next one in Northern China, there seems to be some kind of competition going on for coolest names. Based on the mountains in the background of this panel, I suspect we’re dealing with the Majiayao culture of the upper Yellow River region, which also coincided with the supposed period of the Three August Ones and Five Emperors.

Let’s start with the Majiayao. Known for distinctive pottery which featured black pigments in sweeping parallel lines and dots, this early civilisation is also responsible for the oldest known bronze object in China, a knife found in Dongxiang dated to between 2900BC and 2740BC. As for the Three August Ones and Five Emperors, these are mythological culture heroes along the lines of Prometheus or Māui, credited with bringing the use of fire, houses, farming and silk weaving to people, as well as imparting morality and wisdom. Sounds suspiciously like a successful Pantheon to me...

2757BC – Egypt We head back to Egypt just in time for the end of the Early Dynastic Period and the start of the Old Kingdom aka THE AGE OF THE PYRAMIDS. I’m not kidding – that’s what it’s called in serious historical circles. The Old Kingdom won’t officially kick off until around 2686BC, and in fact the tail end of the Second Dynasty is a relatively obscure period for ancient Egypt, but it’s around now that the capital officially moves to Memphis, close to Giza where the Great Pyramids will be built.

Speaking of pyramids, it’s also during this time that wealthy Egyptians start demanding fancier funeral practices, and the construction of mastabas (imagine the bottom quarter of a pyramid) becomes commonplace. These will later become Step Pyramids, and finally the grand pointy constructions we all know and love. Language and agricultural practices are also developing at speed, and Egypt is quickly becoming the dominant cultural and economic power in the region.

2666BC – Northern China If our first trip to Northern China involved the Majiayao, I’m fairly sure our second features us paying a visit to the Longshan culture, named after the modern town of Longshan, or “Dragon Mountain”. This late Neolithic civilisation, centred on the middle and lower Yellow River valley areas, is also called the Black Pottery Culture. See what I meant about cool names? Like the Jōmon and the Majiayao, the Longshan culture was known for its distinctive pottery, and represented a period of intensified agriculture of millet, rice and wheat, and increased domestication of pigs, dogs, sheep and cattle.

Those Three August Ones and Five Emperors are still kicking around too, with the Huangdi or the Yellow Emperor supposedly reigning during this time. Regarded as the creator of the calendar, the initiator of Chinese civilisation and the ancestor of all Chinese people, he was until relatively recently thought to be a historical person rather than a mythical figure, and is still a powerful nationalist symbol in modern China.

2574BC – Egypt We’re basically ping-ponging between Egypt and Northern China at this point, and it’s easy to see why. Check out those PYRAMIDS IN THE BACKGROUND YO. While we were off visiting China, the Old Kingdom period began, marking one of the high points of civilisation in the lower Nile Valley. We are most likely here during the reign of Khufu, known to the Greeks as Cheops, who commissioned the Great Pyramid of Giza and who, according to Herodotus was a heretic and a cruel tyrant. But what does the Father of History know, right?

As you might imagine from a culture capable of producing monuments that are still around today, Old Kingdom Egypt had gotten pretty advanced. The rulers of the formerly independent states became governors subject to the Pharaoh, funneling taxes towards him. Architects, masons, artists and sculptors all mastered new techniques as Egyptian art flourished. As in Uruk last time, it seems like this leap forward in progress might have helped Ananke’s quarry escape her.

2483BC – Wrangel Island Then again, maybe not. Wrangel Island, positioned in the Bering Strait between Russia and Alaska, wasn’t exactly winning awards as a beacon of civilisation back in the 25th Century BC. What it did boast was the last surviving population of woolly mammoths, which would still be hunted by pre-Inuit cultures until around 2000 BC, when they finally went extinct. Feel free to blame that on Ananke if you like.

What was life like for these tribes, living in one of the most inhospitable places on Earth? Well, they were working with stone and ivory tools and probably hunting reindeer, which migrated annually across the ice. Linguist Michael E. Krauss argues that Wrangel Island may have served as a way station for cultures following the reindeer, and there may even have been trade routes between what is now the north Siberian coast and Alaska. Within 500 years, the cultures in this area would switch their focus to fishing and hunting sea mammals, an innovation that would shape Arctic culture right up to the modern day.

Like what we do, and want to help us make more of it? Visit patreon.com/timplusalex

#WicDiv #The Wicked + The Divine #The Wicked and The Divine #TWATD #6000 Years of Murder #woolly mammoth

72 notes · View notes