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ofoceansandtombsanew · 3 months

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I Cherish You, Halcyon Days: prologue.

“You’re gonna die, kid. In the worst way possible.”

tags: afab!reader (she/her), angst, slow burn

pairing: gojou x reader + onesided!getou x reader

summary: You’re 15 years old when you’re told you’re going to die. You’re 17 years old when you realize who your killer will be. And you’re 17 years old when you make peace with the fact you wouldn’t want it any other way.

index | next chapter

In the summer of 1997 when I was 7, I almost drowned at the beach.

It was one of those summers where you watch a movie and things felt whimsical because you watched one movie about a group of kids going on a life-changing adventure you’d never go on yourself. You looked for magic in your daily life because even the smallest thing could be what led to you stumbling upon a new journey. My life-changing adventure movie? Free Willy, the movie about that foster kid and an orca. My aunt, a marine biologist, who showed me the movie always said the ocean was her greatest love. I got what she meant when I saw that movie. So that summer I spent at my aunt’s place in Enoshima was the summer I decided I’d go on some sort of adventure myself.

My expectation? Freeing Mina the beluga whale and swimming on her back to wherever the beluga whales came from. I would have even taken Kukki the dugong who I sometimes fed extra fish to when no one was looking.

What I actually got? Getting caught up in an undertow at Higashihama Beach.

Yeah, not my dream summer experience.

Undertow wasn’t a concept foreign to me at that time. Auntie warned me all about itー about how sometimes the currents below and above the surface went in separate directions.

“Don’t fight it when that happens,” she told me. “You’ll tire yourself out and drown. I know it’ll be scary but if you ever get caught in undertow, don’t fight. Go with the current and once it subsides, that’s when you swim back.”

That advice was far from my mind when I actually got caught in one though.

I screamed and thrashed and fought and fought, I probably pissed in the water twice too to boot.

And yet ー and I’m not entirely sure why ー a calm suddenly fell over me and I remembered Auntie’s words.

It would be scary, but don’t fight it.

Five minutes later, I swam back to shore and cried for ten minutes while my aunt held me.

Scary was one hell of an understatement.

I swore up and down I’d never go to the beach again. I never wanted to feel that scared again, never ever. My aunt didn’t disparage me for it, though. Didn’t tell me to toughen up. She simply took me to get shaved ice when I calmed down; said when you conquer your fear and come out on top, you should always treat yourself to something nice.

“It’s okay to be scared, [First],” she smiled softly. “Some people might say otherwise, but you know something, Auntie doesn’t think fear is a bad thing. Fear can be really good sometimes. Fear is what tells you not to do something that could lead to you getting hurt. It teaches you when not to do something stupid or dangerous. Sometimes, fear is what you should listen to instead of the ‘what if things actually go right’s. Fear only becomes bad when there’s too much of it. When you let being scared rule your life so you don’t live it.

“So it’s okay to be scared. Just promise auntie that you won’t let fear stop you from moving forward. Whether it’s rejection, worries a leap of faith will lead to you falling completely on your ass or that it might not be okay to say something when you know you should.

Live like you feel it and love like you mean it.

Don’t let the fear get to you.”

It took about a week before I was diving right back into the deep blue all over again.

Name: [Full Name] ♀ D/O/B: December 9, 1989 Age: 15

Sorcerer Lineage: Non-sorcerer lineage Enrollment method: Scouted

Recruiter: Yaga Masamichi

Notes: Student was encountered May 5, 2005

Testimony of the recruiter: At the site of Tsubame High School’s test of courage, a second grade curse appeared. [Last] activated her innate technique to protect herself and her fellow students and was able to keep the curse at a standstill until sorcerers arrived on the scene to exorcize the curse. While there were students injured, none of the injuries were fatal mostly due to [Last]’s quick application of her ability. According to the student, she began being able to utilize her innate technique around the age of 10.

Jujutsu

Student’s Innate Technique: Shields

“Rejection” Student’s abilities manifest as her cursed energy condensing into an object that rejects negative events outside of it effectively, creating shields of various sizes. This ability is one that is purely defensive and does not seem to have any offensive capabilities. As it stands, should the student make timely progress during the initial stages of her enrollment during this first year ー should she not disenroll or meet an untimely end ー it isn’t recommended to give her solo assignments.

Notes: “Rejection” is what the student in question chooses to refer to this ability as.

Interview Question Answer: “Why I want to enroll? Because I’m scared of this curse stuff.”

index | next chapter

#look she's writing #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #getou x reader #geto x reader #i cherish you halcyon days #shout to my girl orihime for the power inspo i love you bbygrl

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knine-nights-loves-ac · 1 month

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This started as an ask I was gonna send to @teecupangel but then it got like seven paragraphs long and I decided fuck it I’m just gonna make it a post and @ teecup. So here goes!

Another Pokémon!Desmond idea (ps: this got long, tldr; shiny Goomy uncatchable Des)

So to set the stage, AC universe happens as normal but, in the AC universe, pokemon as a franchise doesn’t exist. Just not a thing at all. So, starting off Desmond (who doesn’t know what Pokémon is) dies because of the Eye and poofs into a new universe as he does every other Tuesday.

Now, flash to a Pokémon region. I’m biased so I’ll say Kalos. But most work. Desmond appears on one of the earlier routes as a shiny Pokémon. Because I’m still biased, let’s say a shiny Goomy even though Goomies shouldn’t spawn there.

Desmond, newly goopified, doesn’t know what the fuck is going on. He’s a glob now. And the animals around him are fucking weird. And seemingly only live in the tall grass.

He can’t figure out how to use any of his “moves” outside of basically tackle and scratch and other similarly basic things. So he’s pretty dam weak, probably relatively low level, only thing he has going for him is that he’s fast and, relatively, smart. He’s still got human level intelligence which is enough to outsmart the vast majority of Pokémon.

He spends some time on this route, getting used to things, using his Eagle Vision (which he still has) to find berries, avoiding fights, and just enjoying his forced retirement to another universe. It’s Desmond, unless properly motivated, I think he’d be willing to settle in and chill.

But uh oh, trouble is afoot. In the form of! A CHILD no

This little kid toddles down the path with a belt full of pokeballs. Desmond, who is still new to this world, sees the kid and decides to approach. Why? Idk man, the brain cell got burned by the Eye.

The kid is like “OH MY GOD SHINY GOOMY!” And immediately initiates a Pokémon battle.

How does this feel to Desmond? Im not sure. But he definitely can tell somethings up when the kid starts screaming in another language, sounds like French? (If you get why, you get a cookie), and throws a ball that somehow summons another creature. Let’s say a Caterpie.

The Caterpie is low level, about as intelligent as a real caterpillar, and big. (Fun fact apparently Goomy and Caterpie are the same height). Now Desmond is concerned, especially when the kid yells a command and the huge ass bug attacks him. Caterpie only knows like three moves so it probably just tackles. Desmond, not being an idiot or actually a real Pokémon, dodges. The kid looks surprised but yells again and the Caterpie attacks again. After a few times, Desmond decides “Fuck this shit, I’m out.” and nopes on out of there. The kid is absolutely shocked that the shiny Goomy just ran from the battle and also that it dodged everything.

Desmond meanwhile, hidden now, checks on the kid and sees that they’re blue in Eagle Vision. He’s not sure whether to be surprised or not. On the one hand, he’s never seen a kid that was red, but on the other hand, this kid attacked him.

He metaphorically shrugs it off and continues foraging for berries, he’s trying out new combinations.

Meanwhile, this child runs back to wherever they came from, and eagerly spreads the news about the wild shiny Goomy they saw. Most people don’t believe them, but a couple other kids are curious enough to go looking later.

Another day begins and Desmond stumbles upon a group of kids this time. The original kid among them. They’re speaking quickly, yeah he’s pretty sure it’s French, too bad that’s one of the languages he barely gets (I don’t care if he’d know some via Ezio, he’d know 15th century French, not modern day Pokémon world French). They’re gesturing wildly and some of them are looking accusatorially at the original kid. Desmond tries to get a little closer and, just his luck, stumbles into view of the group. Uh oh.

Several minutes later, the kids are confused as hell, several Caterpies are furiously working their hamster wheel brains to understand what’s happening, and Desmond is starting to question what’s up with the people in this universe.

But something special happened this time. At one point, one of the kids threw a red and white ball at him. It bounced off his head and rolled on the ground, doing nothing. Desmond was just annoyed. The kids were flabbergasted.

Rumors spread until actual researchers are tramping through the tall grass. Desmond is definitely avoiding them. Even if they’re white in Eagle Vision, those lab coats remind him a bit too much of Abstergo.

Eventually, after the human presence becomes a bit too much, Desmond decides to hit the road and moves out from his comfy little tall grass patch in the middle of the night. He settles down again somewhere else.

Repeat cycle a few times until the whole of Kalos has heard tell of this shiny Goomy who nobody can catch and seems to roam the whole region.

Idk what’s happening from there. Begin plot of Pokémon X/Y? Maybe Desmond meets AZ? Lots of options but idk.

#assassin's creed #assassins creed #desmond miles #desmond miles ac #assassin’s creed #pokemon #pokémon xy #kalos #kalos region #pokemon kalos #Goomy #pokemon goomy #shiny goomy

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book-place · 2 years

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The Parkourist and the Scarab

Warnings: cursing, mentions of homeless children, violence, a gun, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Marc Spector x teen reader, Steven Grant x teen reader

Requests: Could you do a marc/steven x teen!reader where she's pretty good at parkour so when they're running after the thugs in Egypt (or some other scenario) she's always calling him old and telling him to keep up and he's just so over it- I can imagine him being lowkey impressed by also like "stop going where I can't see you. No I couldn't care less about you just just up and stay behind me"

hi!! was reading some of your fics and i gotta admit im loving it :D i was asking to request a fic with teen!reader with marc & steven, where r gets taken in by them, but then harrow (being the glass-shoes asshole he is) takes the r in a sad attempt at trying to get the scarab? bonus points for promt 10. its chill if you dont want to :D <33

(Sorry I had to combine both of your requests but I hope that this is what you two were looking for and I hope you enjoy)

Requests by: @foggy-isnt-here @raylan-c

*not my gif*

Summary: It started out with parkour, and it’s safe to say that things escalated from there

A/N: The bolded words are Steven when he is not fronting and the dialogue prompt

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Marc! Watch this!” Your gleeful voice shouted to the man, not slowing your run as you propelled yourself towards a wall, using the force you had to run up it a little bit before falling backwards and doing a backflip, landing on your feet.

The man let out a huff, still running behind you and rolled his eyes slightly, “I’m not impressed… nor is Steven.”

On the contrary, mate, that was actually quite impressive.

This time you rolled your eyes, turning around and facing him as you ran backwards, “Oh come on, we both know that you think it’s cool.”

“Not cool.” Marc grumbled under his breath, watching as you scaled a seven foot wall with ease and ran along the rooftop and did a small front flip off of it at the end, “Okay, kind of cool.” The man admitted, making sure you were out of hearing rang before he actually said it.

“Did you see that?” You whipped around with an expectant grin, hoping that the man had seen your cool trick.

Again, he rolled his eyes, but playfully this time, “Come on, just keep running. We’re still chasing after those thugs, you know.”

Your grin didn’t falter as you wiggled your eyebrows at him, “Just keep up, old man.” You teased.

Ha! I knew I liked her!

“We’re the same age, dumbass.” Marc muttered to his alter under his breath angrily, listening to Steven let out a sound of realization.

… well that’s just rude then.

As you kept running ahead, Marc felt his heartbeat pick up and it wasn’t because of all the running, “Kid! Hey, kid! Oh for Christ's sake, stay behind me!”

He watched as you slowed down and looked at him quizzically, “Why?” Then a large smile slowly spread across your face, “Are you worried about me?”

Once again, he huffed and rolled his eyes, finally catching up to you due to you slowing down to tease him, “No, I don’t care about you. Now shut up and keep running.”

A couple months ago, Marc and Steven had dropped by Cairo because it aligned with both of their works and they thought it would be a good idea just to stay for a couple of months.

On their second night there, they had stumbled upon a group of men running away from and screaming as a young teen girl chased them, yelling curses that neither of the men had heard before, and it terrified them to hear them coming out of the mouth of such a young person.

Turned out they had been trying to mug you, but you had stood your ground and instead scolded them very harshly, proceeding to yell at them like a mother would to a misbehaving child.

They had found you later and once they began talking to you they learned that even if those men had succeeded in scaring you and mugging you, there would be nothing to steal because you were in fact homeless and broke.

It took Steven about five minutes to convince Marc to take you in and give you food and a place to say. Safe to say that you were very concerned during those five minutes about why that man was talking to himself in the mirror.

Once he was convinced though, Marc told you all about Steven and Khonshu and everything else. He half expected you to be the one running away screaming, but you just shrugged and moved onto the next thing, accepting them for who they were.

They quickly learned as well that you had been doing parkour from a young age and were actually quite good at it. And because of this skill, you had begged Marc to let you help with all he does to protect people, and he reluctantly agreed, resulting in Steven screaming at him for ten minutes straight. But both men knew that you could handle yourself.

So there you were, you and Marc running across the city in a frenzy (coming from the man) to get the thugs that had just robbed a nearby market, and you were doing parkour.

“Now is really not a time to show off your skills, kid.” Marc’s gruff voice grumbled, making sure you were behind him before running off again in the direction that the thugs went.

You felt your shoulders sag a little and your exterior crumple, the smile falling from your face and you took a minute to compose yourself before jogging after Marc, no longer doing parkour.

You had just rounded a corner that you were sure that he had turned just a second ago, and came to a skidding halt as a small and confused frown took over your features as you looked around.

He nor the thugs were anywhere in sight along the wide and deserted street, causing you to huff slightly when you realized that you had to have taken a wrong turn.

But as you turned on your heels to try another way, you felt something sharp and cold prick the back of your neck, and your hand flew up towards the spot and you whipped around in confusion.

A woman stood behind you with a wicked smile on her face, but you didn’t even have time to process that as dark spots began to dance in your vision and you began swaying, feeling the world spin at an abnormal rate around you.

You tried to fight the dizzy and tiring feelings as you stumbled to lean on a wall for support, breathing picking up exceptionally.

The last thing you felt before your eyes closed fully were your knees buckling out from underneath you, but you were out before you could even feel the impact of the hard pavement.

-•-

With a groan, you slowly opened your eyes and tried to let them adjust to the harsh beam of light that was shining down on and practically blinding you, not doing anything to help the feeling of your brain pounding out of your skull.

You could feel something digging into your wrists, binding your hands together behind you in the chair that you were sitting in.

From the side of you, you heard a deep and most definitely fake chuckle, causing your eyes to snap open fully and your head whip to the side to face whoever had just made that noise.

Your eyes were greeted with the sight of a man resting against a desk with his head tilted slightly, studying your every move carefully with a hint of amusement playing into his features.

“Hello, Miss. L/n.” He said smoothly, hands still resting on the desk behind him.

“Hi.” You said back in an equally smooth tone, allowing yourself to look bored as your eyes scanned the room. You wouldn’t let this asshole know about the fear that was bubbling in your stomach, you knew he would see it as a weakness.

A small flash of surprise passed over his features, causing you to do everything in your power to bite back a smirk, but he quickly replaced it with a smile that sent chills down your spine, “I’m so glad you could join us. To be honest I didn’t know if my men would ever be able to lead you away from Marc Spector.”

At the mention of the man’s name, your eyes snapped back over to the stranger and you regretted it immediately when he let out a grin at the reaction he got out of you.

“Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Arthur Harrow. And I believe that friend of yours has something that belongs to me.” The long haired man bowed down slightly, as if he were a celebrity talking to his fans.

Recognition immediately passed through your brain as you realized that this was the person who was trying to get the scarab from Marc and Steven, someone who so far had gone through great lengths to get it.

You let out a laugh, which was also clearly forced as your facade began to once again crumble, “Well I don’t know how well you know Marc, but having me here sure as hell won’t do anything for you about that little scarab of yours.”

If possible, his grin widened even more, “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Miss. L/n. Perhaps you don’t know the man as well as you think you may.”

Then you rolled your eyes, annoyed, “Did you not just hear me you long haired asshole? Marc isn’t-“

Right on cue the door to the office that you were in burst open, causing both you and Harrow to jump, and in walked a very angry looking Marc Spector in all his glory.

“You get the hell away from her.” Marc snarled, his deadly glare never once leaving Arthurs form.

“Oh, I will.” The man replied, but strode over to you nonetheless, pulling a gun out of his pocket and resting it on the back of your head, “Once you give me the scarab.”

You felt yourself involuntarily stiffen as the cool metal touched the back of your head and the sound of a gun cocking filled the room.

Marc finally paused, a flicker of emotion and hesitation briefly passing over his face as you watched him glance at you.

His rage filled eyes finally locked onto Harrow once again and despite the circumstances, he smirked slightly, “Yeah… I don’t think we’re gonna let that happen.”

Still tied up in the chair, you could only watch helplessly as Marc ran forward as fast as he could and kicked Arthur in the chest when he wasn’t expecting it, sending him stumbling back and into some bookshelves that were behind you.

He ran right past you and proceeded to start kicking the man over and over again until he was no longer fighting back, instead laid there limply. Unconscious.

Once Marc saw that, he immediately let Steven front, knowing that the man would be better in this kind of situation, and he right away ran over and untied you.

You let out a ragged breath, rubbing your sore wrists as you looked anywhere but Steven, refusing to let him see your tear filled.

The British man gently took your face in his hand and turned your head to look at him with a soft expression on his face, “You’re okay now.” He said gently.

And that was all it took for you to break down in sobs, collapsing into his arms in a way that normally would have made you feel weak. But at that moment you didn’t exactly care.

He shushed you softly, running a hand through your hair, “You’re all right now, love. We’ve got you…we’ve got you and we’re not letting go. Not ever again.” He comforted, knowing that he didn’t even need to ask Marc to know that he agreed wholeheartedly.

As Steven caught Marc’s eye in a nearby reflection, they both shared a look of sadness, knowing that it was their fault that you were dragged into this mess. But also knowing that if they ever said something like that to you, you would be too damn stubborn to admit it and just wave them off, saying that you were fine.

They both knew in that moment that even if you could handle yourself and do some pretty sick parkour, there were some things in the world that they still needed to and would protect you from.

MCU Taglist: @lovanitu @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @irethepotato

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu x reader #steven grant x reader #Steven Grant x reader platonic #marc spector x reader #Marc Spector x reader platonic #mcu fic #mk x reader #mk #mk imagine #moon knight imagine #moon knight x reader #moon knight

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choicesficwriterscreations · 2 years

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CFWC Writer of the Month: Angelasscribbles

Each month CFWC highlights one of our talented fanfic writers, and this month’s writer of the month is @angelasscribbles ! We hope you will enjoy learning more about her and her work below! Writer is selected at random. More info can be found on the navigation page.

Tumblr Blog: angelasscribbles

Quick Links:

WordPress Blog: Angela Harrison

And my much neglected unschooling blog: Raising Wild Things

Tumblr Masterlist

How do you want to be known on Tumblr? Angela

1- When did you start playing Choices? What's the first book you played?

Back in 2017ish, I played The Freshman series, all of it, without spending a single diamond! (I looked up the diamond scenes on youtube, shhh). I started multiple games trying to diamond mine but kept wanting to actually play them, so I ended up deleting the app and forgetting about it. Fast forward to 2020, the pandemic was in full swing, we were stuck at home, and I was bored. I reinstalled the app and played Rules of Engagement. I spend diamonds. I married Leo. I moved on to TRR because I read that the prince in question was Leo’s brother.

2- When and why did you join Choices fandom?

I went to Reddit to feed my choices addiction, so does that count? I was on there end of 2020, I’d guess. Everyone was discussing how PB hinted at a polyamorous ending for TRR but didn’t deliver. Then someone said there was poly fanfic out there, and I was like, where? I hit google and ended up on Tumblr sometime in 2021.

3- How did you pick your url name?

So this is a funny story! When my kids were little, a town we live near, Mckinney, used to have a huge weekend-long extravaganza downtown the weekend after Thanksgiving called A Dickens of a Christmas. One of the big attractions was the train that ran around the square. It was hosted by the local magic shop, but the line, and the wait, was always very long. To keep everyone entertained, they had performers. There was a man on stilts who somehow ended up in some weird rivalry with my then eight-year-old son. I can’t remember how it started, but when one would see the other, they’d point and scream, “BAH HUMBUG!” There were people hula hooping with glow-in-the-dark hoops, and there was a magician. So one night, we are standing in line, and the magician comes over to us and is doing card tricks. He asked my then eight-year-old son (same kid, yeah, he makes friends wherever we go lol) to pull a card. He did. Then he handed him a pen and told him to write his name on it. Now my son is extremely dyslexic and struggled a lot with reading and writing. He tried to decline and hand it back, but the magician insisted. Finally, Todd takes the pen and scribbles on the card, and hands it back. The magician looks at it and says, “This is your name?” My son says, “My name is Todd.” The man replies, “Your name is Todd Scribbles?” Which sent him and me and the rest of my kids into a fit of giggles. He called him Todd Scribbles for the rest of the night. He did the magic trick of shuffling the cards and still pulling Todd’s card, then he gave it to him, and he brought it home and hung it up. His siblings called him Todd Scribbles forever. When I made my WordPress blog, I wanted something cute and memorable for the title. I remembered Todd Scribbles. And I thought scribbles are writing. I’m writing. These are my scribbles. Angela’s Scribbles. I stole his name. He was fine with it. When I came to Tumblr, I just stuck with the blog name I was already using on WordPress.

4- Go back to your archive and tell us about the first post on your Choices blog.

It was a one-shot called First Date. It’s TRR book one, the night before the Beaumont bash when Liam asks MC on his first real date. After the date, he walks her back to her room, and they are making out in the hallway when they hear a noise and pull apart. Who was it? They had no servants, and Bertrand and Max knew Liam was there. I always HC it was Drake, inadvertently stumbling upon them. So I wrote that night from his POV.

5- How long have you been writing fanfiction?

Since February of 2021 technically. I posted First Date, another one shot titled Confrontation, and the four chapters of The Proposal between February and March 2021, as well as some Ride or Die chapters, to the sound of crickets. I left and ignored Tumblr until August 2021. I really am not sure why I came back, but I decided to try again. My original idea was to write what happened at Ramsford during those three weeks between book 1 and book 2. I posted the first chapter of Three Weeks in Ramsford on August 1st, 2021, and never looked back.

6- What is your favorite Choices book to write about?

The Royal Romance

7- Share the first fanfic you wrote with us. Do you still like it or would you change anything about it?

My first series was Three Weeks at Ramsford. I definitely think I’d write it better now, I’ve grown as a writer. Also, I now wish I’d gone with my original idea of having Drake show up in person, not just smuggle a letter and a cell phone to her.

8- What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

Bad Romance, hands down.

9- Do you have a fic that you didn’t expect to be well received, but it was? What about one you expected to be but could use a little more love?

Bad Romance. I expected people to lose their minds, and they did, just not in the way I expected. It was supposed to be a one-shot and was a direct pushback against the notion that some of my characters were toxic. Basically, I was like, you wanna see toxic? Here, hold my beer! Everyone begged for more, and the first several chapters were really just me trying to see how toxic and messed up I could make everything/everyone. Then somewhere along the way, these characters started whispering motivations and desires to me, and everything changed. I ended up with a still lil toxic but pretty cool, fully functioning, open, honest, and loving polycule.

For the second part of the question, maybe Leo and Liv. I put Leo and Liv together in a one-shot randomly but then loved them together and started a series just for them. But to be fair, I haven’t gotten very far with it. It keeps getting pushed to the side for other projects.

10- If you could write only angst, fluff, or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?

Why would you ask me that? Aaagghh, what a difficult choice! If I’m forced to choose, I guess it would have to be angst. I can’t live without emotion. Emotion drives everything, including the fluff and the smut, right? Angst is where you get to showcase the emotion.

11- Do you ever recognize yourself in any of your MCs or in your writing?

Of course. I think we all do this. I have said frequently, too many people, that while no version of MC is me, there are pieces of me in every version of her.

12- What element of writing do you struggle with most?

This keeps changing. When I first started writing fanfiction, I was like, “Write smut? Oh no! I could never! It would be too awkward!” Now I’m like, “You want a threesome? BDSM? Just another Tuesday, ho hum.” Then it was humour. I remember the first time I sat down to write something to purposely make people laugh. It was a lot of work, but it paid off. Then I wrote an entire one-shot that was humour. It was still a lot of work. Then I wrote an entire miniseries that was humour and it became easier and easier the more I did it. Practice makes perfect. I never thought I could do tragedy either. I could not bear to hurt my characters like that. Now I think I’ve killed off almost everyone at some point or another. My biggest struggle is neglecting current projects when new ideas occur to me.

13- Do you have any neglected work you really want to finish?

Yes. Heir Apparent and Leo and Liv. Also, my original novel that has been woefully neglected, even though it’s only a few chapters away from completion.

14- If someone you know in real life (who isn’t involved in fandoms) asked to read your work, would you let them? If yes, what would you recommend they read first? Yes. And I already have. Two of my friends have read most of my stuff. I recommended they start with Bad Romance because it’s my favorite, and they did.

15 - Are there any writers (published authors and/or fanfic writers) who influenced your writing? So many. I was a huge Stephen King fan as a teenager/young adult, and I devoured his books. Consequently, my first few short stories were horror. Anne Rice likewise fed my love of the supernatural, and not just Interview with a Vampire (though it was great), but the rest of her vampire books, as well as Taltos and the rest of the Witches of Mayfair series. Deborah Harkness and her Discovery of Witches are partially to blame for my obsession with witches. I also read copious amounts of fantasy and sci-fi. Marion Zimmer Bradley stands out for turning a well-known story on its head. Changing literally none of the major details we all know and love about the King Arthur story (Mists of Avalon) and somehow, at the same time, making it into a completely different story! (helped with my love of a good plot twist). Also notable are Orson Scott Card (Ender's Game, Seventh Son), Robert Heinlein (Stranger in a Strange Land), Ben Bova (Endless Universe), and Issac Asimov (I, Robot. Robots of Dawn). As a child, Marguerite Henry wrote books about horses that were achingly beautiful to me, particularly Misty of Chincoteague. Louisa May Alcott (Little Women) and Margaret Mitchell (Gone with the Wind) for epic, heart-wrenching storytelling. Sheri S. Tepper captured my attention as a teen with Maven Manyshaped and again as an adult with The Gate to Women’s Country, fostering my fixation of addressing issues of inequality and ingrained sexism in my work. I love a good mystery, and Sharyn McCrumb writes them with all the majestic beauty of Appalachia as a backdrop and liberal amounts of supernatural suspense. The Dark Part of the Forest by Holly Black delighted me for flipping the script, putting the prince in a magical sleep in a glass coffin in the woods, and having the girl hero run around with a sword. At some point, I moved on to paranormal romance. I had never been a romance reader, but these books took me by storm. My favorite authors in that genre are Charlaine Harris, Kim Harrison, and Laurell K. Hamilton. I have read everything all three of them have ever written. If you want polyamory on steroids, you can’t go wrong with Laurell K. Hamilton; she makes my Bad Romance gang look positively sweet, innocent, and vanilla. Let’s not forget the master of poetry and horror alike (according to me anyway), Edgar Allan Poe. He’s the reason I started writing poetry. My favorite poem is by him; it’s called Alone. And of course, The Raven and The TellTale Heart. I am beyond positive I’m leaving some out.

As far as other fanfic writers go, I strive to be as funny as @harleybeaumont, as angsty @burnsoslow as tragically beautiful as @dcbbw as evocative as @txemrn for my Drake to have as much swagger and sex appeal as @karahalloway and for my Leo to be as funny and endearing as @queenrileyrose.

16- Which one of your stories would you most like to see as a movie/series?

I think Savage Love would make a good action movie. I think Bad Romance would make a good series, like a modern-day Game of Thrones meets Bridgerton.

17- Do you write original stories?

Yes. My WordPress blog is full of flash fiction, poetry, essays, and one of my original short stories. The rest of my short stories are waiting for me to either submit them to online fiction publications or publish them myself as a collection of short stories. I have three original novels in progress, one is almost complete. My original work is mostly horror, fantasy, and paranormal romance.

18 - What other hobbies do you have?

Reading. Photography. Camping/Hiking. Live music/sports. Collecting books (related to, but different from reading). Acting.

19 - What’s your favorite emoji?

20: BONUS - tell us anything you’d like (if you want to).

I guess if you’re interested in my personal life, I can tell you that I have seven children I can claim by birth or adoption and five more that I have partially raised for some amount of time spanning from six months to seven years, making a total of 12 children that have come through my home over the years. My husband and I have been married for twenty years; we live on a small farm in Texas, where we raise chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese, and goats currently (we used to raise hogs as well). We have four dogs, two cats, a couple of bearded dragons, two snakes, and run a turtle rehab. We have a couple of box turtles and many aquatic turtles of different types. My 17-year-old (Todd Scribbles lol) is a fierce advocate for them and is the reason all our friends and family now stop to help turtles cross roads (safely and correctly, of course!). Three of my kids play volleyball competitively and are stupid good at it, they did not get that athletic ability from me. I love playing sports but am generally uncoordinated. My favorite sport is baseball, my favorite team is, of course, the Texas Rangers, and the greatest pitcher of all time was Nolan Ryan, and this is the reason my Drake’s middle name is Nolan.

I sometimes process grief through my writing. When I wrote Maximum Damage, I didn’t plan it, but when I got to that part, Maxwell received the same injuries and recovery time as my oldest son did when he had his car accident. I have also lost loved ones to suicide, so writing that scene was hard as well. I wrote Betrayal after coming home from a memorial service and watching my nephew grieve for his wife. When I wrote Almost, again, it wasn’t planned, but when I got to the end, some of my own emotions about fear of losing a child came into play. Our youngest child is not biologically ours, and we have had to fight for her. We lost. She was ripped away and then given back. It’s why TRH 3 was so hard for me to get through and why I will never write MC losing custody of her child for even two minutes.

Just because I don’t want to end on a sad note, I need to tell ya’ll more stuff, lol. I was in the Army, I went to Texas A&M for undergrad and got my master's at Texas Woman’s University. When I lived in Laredo, we used to walk across the Rio Grande into Mexico on the weekends to go shopping. I have lived in Texas most of my life, but I did live in Arizona in a hippie commune when I was four. Yes, my mother was a flower child. She had a white mustang covered in those flowers you stick to the bottom of the tub. The car’s name was flower. After my mom remarried, we lived in Oklahoma at Fort Sill (I was an Army brat). I ran off to Ohio briefly at some point, and I spent ten days in New York City with a theatre group. I love musical theatre though I cannot sing. I was a theatre kid in high school and have done community theatre as an adult. I worked for over twenty years as a child development expert and only recently quit. I’m still figuring out what I want to do next. I worked for Half Price Books for two years in college, and it was a really fun job. My coworkers were all writers, artists, and musicians. I developed my love for live music by going to my manager's gigs on the weekends. Now I’m boring and never go anywhere but volleyball with my kids. I’m a raging night owl and have moderate to severe ADHD, which explains how I write so much. It’s a current hyper fixation. It’s also the reason I tend to overshare. Sorry.

Ok, that’s probably way more than anyone wanted or needed to know! Let me end by saying how much I love this fandom. I have met some really amazing people here!

#choices fic writers creations #writer of the month #cfwc writer of the month #angelasscribbles #the royal romance

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meteor752 · 1 year

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The DL kids on Empires part 2: Hermitcraft

The videos came out like five minutes ago, I’m watching Jimmy POV as I’m writing this, god I’m speedrunning

So anyways, the hermits arrive! I think that maybe six months after the DL kids show up does the rift spit them out, so when they do the kids have all settled in to their routines

So when the Hermits arrived to the server, Liana was in the Museum reading up, Wes was deep into the mines of Gobland, Johnny was herding cows a bit away from Tumble Town, and Gertrude and Novo were on a date close to spawn. Only Jekiv and Jassy were in an empire when it happened, The Eversea and Evermoore respectively.

So yeah, fricking no one was prepared.

Jassy and Jekiv were very shaken up upon seeing Cleo and Tango, but both chose to not mention anything about the life servers. None of their parents from Empires had recognized them, so there was a slim chance that the hermits would. Lo and behold, they didn’t. Cleo and Tango were directly introduced to Jassy and Jekiv, and they showed no signs of recognition. Jassy did ask what other Hermits had joined though, and sadly her dad weren’t once of them.

Johnny’s cowboy antics are interrupted by his dads familiar piercing scream, so he abandoned the cows and rode back into town, where he saw Grian perching on Jimmy’s shoulders like a gremlin bird, cackling, while the sheriff tried to shake him off to the best of his ability.

Yeah it was a very ??????? moment, but Johnny knew enough about both Grian and Liana to not get in the way when they felt like being pesky birds, so he just climbed down and stood on the ready, trying not to drag any attention to himself because that’s a conversation he did not feel like having right then and there.

....aaaaat least until Tango showed up, where he literally flung himself like a god damn cat at him, knocking them both to the ground.

So yeah, graceful.

He explained it off as he was just ‘Glad to see another of his species’, since both Scar and Grian were there and he figured it wasn’t his place to reveal what was actually going on.

As soon as everyone but Tango and Jimmy left to check on the rift, he did tell them what was up, even though Jimmy had already kinda figured it out.

So yeah, Jimmy and Tango who’d met briefly a few times are now sharing custody of a child.

Novo and Gertrude found out by their picnic being interrupted by Scar and Grian, from out of nowhere might I add, and when they found out that the hermits had gone through the rift they both scattered to find their parents.

Gertrude found nothing, of course, and she was a sad pupper.

But going to Chromia, Novo saw the most strange sight. His mom and dad, acting civil towards each other?? Having a conversation?? His mom dressed in GREEN??

He was shaken to the core!

Unnerved by it, he set off to the Olipeligo as it’s far enough away so no one would stumble upon it by accident, and he sat in a tree and poorly strummed his lyre while waiting for Oli to return.

Until his fricking mom showed up.

Now, growing up Novo never had a bad relationship with his mom. Sure, she wasn’t the best influence in the world, but the two got along great in their madness. But after their death, the bitterness had started to sink in with Novo. Both of his parents had neglected him in favor of harming each other, making him witness things he’d never want to witness. It sorta fucks with your head to see your mom’s arm nearly he cut off in front of you by an ax crit from your dad.

So while a small part of him wanted to run up to her and lay safe in her arms, a bigger part of him despised her for fucking him up so badly.

So he stayed in the tree, out of sight, choosing to just watch what she would do.

It got boring quickly.

But then Oli showed up, and offered her a place in his small empire, which Novo would not accept, so he jumped out of the tree and voiced his opinion about it.

Unfortunately his opinion was inapprehensible because of his accent, so to Pearl this tiny boy with crazy hair and running makeup just appeared out of nowhere and started shouting gibberish at her and this bard.

Oli didn’t fully understand what Novo was saying either, only the other kids and Sausage for some reason could understand him, but he picked up on the vibes well enough.

So yeah Pearl took off, shaken to her core, and Novo was left all grumpy

Wes stayed in the mines for a while, and didn’t interact with any of the hermits for a good while because he hates meeting new people, and Liana avoided them like pest because she’s afraid of confrontation.

So yeah, first day went great!

As time went on, things calmed down. The hermits just accepted that in this place there were the emperors, and these strange children who also came through the rift, but also did not wish to return back. The kids all had a talk and decided to not tell the hermits about what was happening for the time being, as they were all kind of settling in and also most of them are kinda iffy about their parents.

Twenty years of abandonment will do that to ya

That is, at least, until Scar and Liana meet, which you can read about here :)

So basically, now that both Scar and Grian knows, and some time has passed, and both BDubs and Ren has also joined, the kids decide that alright it’s time to let them know what’s up

So Jekiv tells Cleo, which is a very awkward conversation, but you know Joe got very happy about now being an uncle

Novo spends a good seven minutes getting the message across to his mom, which turns into a game of charades as she has no idea what he’s saying. She visits him occasionally, but for the most part he doesn’t want anything to do with her.

Wes doesn’t tell either of his dads, but Impulse figures it out anyways. He confronts him about it casually, and Wes avoids him for a solid three weeks after it.

Then, Wes tells BDubs, who is a self proclaimed god. BDubs kind of immediately reverts back to beauty pageant mom, wanting to show to everyone that his son is the best and have him pulled into his sun cult, so Wes stays underground even more than usual. He’s often joined by Impulse though, and the two does manage to form a bond of sort

The night after Ren joins is a full moon. Gertrude is too caught up in the preparations for her transformation to contact him, but when they both do transform, the kids are stuck with not only keeping Gertrude away from all the empires, but also from the other feral werewolf who will go on the attack on sight.

Half the server are pulled into keeping the two apart, some distracting Weretrude while some keep Weren entertained. This is also how Katherine finds out that the werewolf she’s been hunting is her own pupil

So when the moon lowers and the sun rises, everyone is left fricking exhausted.

In the healing place (Maybe like Shelby’s or something) Ren and Gertrude are put to recover from their long nights, and Gertrude have plenty of time to explain what’s going on and who she is.

Ren is ecstatic to have a kid, and he tells her all about what’s been going on on Hermitcraft, and Gertrude compares it to the stories he told her about Dogwarts and The Red King, the the two are just excited puppies

And yeah, that’s the first meetings.

Gertrude is the only one to contribute to Hermitopia, since she’s the only redstoner, and like half the kids are afraid it’s gonna collapse if they as much as touch it.

Jassy seeks out BDubs a lot to hear about what’s been going on with Etho, and BDubs being BDubs he talks her ears off about him.

Wes and Jassy start to suspect that they might be step siblings

When the sculk starts spreading across the server, it has mixed reactions with the kids.

Liana fucking hates it, everything to do with sculks and wardens scares her, but she still assists Pixl in the removal of it. It gives her major creeps though

Johnny kind of likes it. He’s always had a strange connection with Wardens and the sculk, so he kinda vibes with it. Plus, the Wardens in the deep dark don’t care that it’s being spread, so who cares!

The others reactions vary from ew, to why, to whatever. These kids have been through a lot

And then…Grumbot. The mysterious robot figure appears in Hermittopia after a few months, seemingly sleeping considering the closed eyes.

And when asking about it, Grian reveals that he is his and Mumbo’s son!

So….Liana has a brother now

And she tries. She really tries to bond with Grumbot when he goes online. She sits for hours on his palm chatting, she tries to learn more about him, she tells him about Scar and asks about Mumbo.

Because Jassy and Hermes has such a close bond. Jassy is always carrying the little guy around, either on her hip or on top of her shoulders, and Jassy encourages her to get something similar with Grumbot.

Buuuut, Grumbot is kind of evil, is obsessed with Mumbo, sorta hates Scar since he won the mayor election, and does not care at all about Liana.

So yeah, what a bust.

But then the rift reopens, and the kids are faced with a dilemma.

Because some of them would love to move to Hermitcraft, a dream they’ve had for years, while some would much rather stay on Empires.

And…they’ve never been separated before.

Liana, Jassy, and Wes are very interested in joining the Hermits, while Jekiv, Novo, and Gertrude would rather not. Johnny is torn, he wants to be with both of his dads! He just…can’t.

So when the Hermits stand by the rift, six months after they arrived, trying to leave while the Emperors fight them off, the kids are divided, Johnny choosing to side with Empires since Tango isn’t present.

But the Hermits slip through, Liana Wes and Jassy with them without even thinking, and the other four are left behind.

The Emperors choose to follow along though, but the divide between the kids has already formed, and it will only grow with time…

So! That’s that! Well I’m not completely done yet, the Empires X Hermitcraft story line need to finish first then I’ll post the last update of the arc.

Because yes, we’ve got story arcs for these little bastards now.

Does anyone even care? Well I do and that’s what matters

Anyways, byeeeeeee

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perilegs · 1 year

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im doing a rerun of my canon da:o playthrough and. does someone want to read my notes on my mahariel so far. bc here they are

ok so my canon warden is Atish’an Mahariel (it’s her name bc I'm finnish and Rauha (lit. peace) is a common old woman name here so i thought it'd be funny). she has a vallaslin representing Sylaise. (here’s her toyhouse for a pic but there’s pretty much no text there (at least not any that’s not written here anyways)

Origin:

Killed one of the humans as an example. She can be very distrustful of humans near her clan.

Cocky, Brash, blunt, very sure of herself, kinda rude and a menace, loves her mom (Ashalle).

Is protective of the clan but like, physically, not verbally. As in, she will eliminate physical threats or ruffle a kid’s hair for doing a good job or put in extra effort to ask someone how they’re doing and sitting with someone if they seem like they need it or whatever. She does care. But she’s not going to say how much she cares out loud. She prefers to show it in other ways. Ati would find herself flustered if she actually had to tell someone how much love she has. That’s embarrassing. She can sometimes be a bit less emotionally stunted around those she trusts. (this is something she improves on during the game a bit but it takes a long time)

“When mommy elf and a daddy elf love each other very much…” upon asked how the dalish came to be

Cannot bear the thought that maybe there was something that she could have done to stop Tamlen’s fate. “Why are you looking at me like that. It’s not my fault.” Very defensive about it.

Don’t cast me away, please

“I don’t want to lose you too.” Did the keeper have to say that. Ati already felt guilty about Tamlen. It would be later when Ati realized the keeper was right, it wouldn’t benefit anyone if she just decided to die in her clan. The keeper seems to hold the Grey Wardens in high regard.

Dragged out of the clan, kicking and screaming. Not really, she gave some very teary “I don’t wanna go, please this is all i’ve ever known” goodbyes. It was highly uncharacteristic of the overconfident Atish’an. She was always very sure of herself and raring to go and explore the world, and so very inquisitive, loving to ask questions about anything and everything from the clanmates who did trading with human villages.

Ostagar:

The trip to Ostagar made Ati a bit numb bc she realized there’s really no fighting her fate. More worn out than angry by Ostagar. Clearly unhappy. Still hostile to most, since i guess hostility and overconfidence are the only two acceptable emotions to show to the outside world.

I am no friend of yours, human lord

Finds Alistair alright, maybe a bit annoying (she does not realize they’re both Like That)

Alistair is a major history buff, knows everything about blights, grey wardens, and old gods. That’s cool! Ati WILL ask him about Everything

Definitely respected Morrigan at first meeting, she could see she was not like most humans, she felt closer to her kind than other humans. Morrigan is a random woman living in the woods and we were the ones who stumbled upon her area. Her mother seems alright albeit a bit. strange...

Tower of Ishal: confused as to tfs going on, she was dragged out of her clan to hold a torch so obviously she’s pissed but something’s not right.. The action is a nice change of pace and helps Ati forget other things.

Seeing something like the darkspawn orge is enough to change a woman. If the blight isn’t stopped and darkspawn roam Ferelden. What if one of those showed up to her clan? Atish’an doesn’t even dare to think about it.

Hearing Morrigan tell her the battle was lost, Ati’s stomach dropped. She felt helpless, but she wouldn’t give up on her clan this easily. She couldn’t disappoint them any more. It would have been humiliating to return now, all of her crying and anger in vain. She can’t yet again be the reason even more of her clanmates lives are lost.

Definitely respects Flemeth for reasons unknown. Ati thinks she has a strange, powerful vibe to her.

Seeing Morrigan’s mother cast her away in such a manner made Atish’an feel a pang in her heart. Morrigan was like her, yearning to experience what it was like outside her home, but not wanting to leave when it came to it. Ati admired Morrigan’s strength in how she handled the matter. Ati decided she’d stick close to Morrigan. Never thought a human could be so similar to herself.

Lothering:

“yea might as well” type of attitude towards helping people. ati finds it strangely rewarding + it’s not like doing that is making the blight stronger

“Blood isn’t all that important” @ Bodahn :’)

Ati decided she might as well get to know her companions a bit at camp since she’s going to have to stick them for a looong time since they want to get help in stopping the blight. And she doesn’t want to feel any lonelier than she already does.

Morrigan dare i ask of your own mother - “I love her. What else do you want to know?” Why did she say that. She could have just opened her chest to bare her heart to a complete stranger as well.

Alistair is helping Ati have her silly moments. She sympathises with Alistair a bit, and is showing him compassion.

Atish’an appreciates the conversations she has with Morrigan. Morrigan seems nice in her own way, and she often says things that force Ati to stop and think. In the long run, it’s helping Ati mature a bit and Morrigan break down her walls.

Redcliffe:

The silly pathetic endearing human she’s been travelling with, who is her senior warden yet leaves all the important decisions to Ati, is technically the heir to the throne. She finds this hilarious

This bann is kind of a baddie, wonder if he’d be down to. We’re on a mission here. (Ati has licked her fair share of lampposts and then some).

Circle:

Jumping at any chance to defend the mages. WHY do these people keep their mages locked up that’s so fucked up??

Oh? Wynne’s here? She’s kind of annoying but DAMN what a healer. Atishan is thinking that she would be useful to have around to fight the darkspawn. Baby’s first rational work thought :’)

Loghain sent a fucking assassin after them? Atish’an is terrified but god if being powerful enough to have an assassin sent after you is ego boosting. For some reason beyond her, she doesn’t think Zevran is lying about what he’s saying. It could be because he looks like home. It’s been a while since she’s seen other elves around, and his tattoos remind her of vallaslin. Not that they’re the vallaslin she would regognize. Maybe they have different ones in Antiva, she thinks.

Ati thinks she found someone more whorish than herself.

The way Zevran talks so openly about his past is throwing Ati off. How can he just reveal these things to her? (Does Ati notice how Zevran is undermining his own experiences trying to tell what the crows did was practical and that there were benefits? Does she notice how he feels when Ati tells him what he went through was awful? I am going to cry about Zevran’t approval changes right this second.)

Hearing Zevran be so very homesick and talking of his home he cannot return to broke Ati’s heart. At least she could eventually go back home. Right? But the chances of Zevran surviving Antiva are slim. It makes Ati sad. She finds Zevran finding comfort in the smell of leather endearing. (I have far more thoughts on Zevran but this is what Ati thinks ok)

Brecilian forest:

Ati can't help but feel relieved after being among her own people after spending so much time with human affairs

Seeing the members of her sister clan in pain pains her too, she's stopped a demon possessing a child, an entire onslaught of undead, and she managed to save a circle tower from abominations beyond what she could have imagined. Ati feels unstoppable. Everything she has done, has worked out so far. It does not help with her cockiness. "I am good at non-trivial tasks."

Seeing the hunters like this… It takes some effort for Ati to not let it show how much of an effect it has on her. She could almost cry

Ati is getting used to Wynne. Ati's missing her mommy disease makes it so that Wynne's presence can be a bit comforting. And she appreciates Wynne's snark.

Wynne with elves who are mistrustful of humans, especially humans in authority seems to be a theme.

Seeing Danyla was painful. Atish'an knows she must be killed to end her suffering. It doesn't make it any easier. It's something that won't leave Ati. She's seen her fair share of death and suffering but this was something she could have never prepared for.

Sided with the elves and the werewolves. Ati thinks Zathrian's actions were originally justified, but the clan is suffering and. Well. The current werewolves, though they are humans, they aren't the evil heartless creatures that originally assaulted Zathrian's children. They were just people who happened to be born from those people.

Leliana gets on Ati's nerves a bit every so often. "They are serfs. There is no slavery in Orlais." mkay sure. But. Leliana actually listens to Atish'an when she challenges her beliefs. It's refreshing.

Oh… Leliana also has a dead bio mom who had a friend Leliana considers a mother figure.

Denerim:

Ati got Sten at 100% approval after questioning him about qunari children. Her inquisitive nature and snark are a HUGE hit. They were already at super high approval with each other bc Ati LOVES asking questions (i love how she’s both like cocky sure of herself rude & snarky but also so very cunning and inquisitive. you can be smart and a bit of an asshole)

Ati approves after Alistair defended her to Goldanna. She was about to go off but Alistair's firm response was enough to not make her loose her marbles.

Denerim market district is a lot to take in. Ati has never seen a city this big so full of life everywhere. It's a bit overwhelming

Ati heard there was some Howe leading a purge in the alienage. She would show him no mercy would they ever cross paths

Haven:

"Kadan" Atish'an does not know what the word means, but she can feel its weight. Kadan. She thinks she feels the same way about Sten. Sten said he trusted her with his life… Also Ati appreciates someone who will challenge her decisions. Their bond is strong. (Starts calling Sten lethallin? idk how that works. is vhenan romantic only?)

Also Ati’s specialization is druid. Sten understanding how intelligent mabari are and talking to Falon (i love dumb names) in such a regular manner is something Ati does too. I can’t believe i forgot Ati and Sten are besties before this rerun.

anyways this is all i have so far. does anyone have any thoughts? some suggestions for improvement? does anyone have a similar warden

#i am in such a dragon age mood rn!!#da:o #my ocs tag #ati mahariel #atish'an #oc: ati mahariel

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hiphopinspector · 1 year

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“How’s it goin down” - DMX

Album: It’s Dark and He’ll is Hot, 1998

It took me a while to realize that DMX was actually one of Hip-Hop’s overlooked legends. I’m pretty sure the first time I stumbled upon him was in the movie “Cradle 2 the Grave” where DMX and Jet Li played diamond thieves. What a combo. Movie soundtrack had “X Gon’ Give It To Ya” and ofcourse it bumped. But that still didn’t really do it for me. I couldn’t really rock with DMX until I developed a better ear for hip hop. At first I kinda just thought he screamed into the mic and had the couple songs I would play for the chorus then switch it. Took a couple years before I kinda got that ear for hip hop and appreciation of different styles and lyrics and got into it enough where I felt the need to listen to everything and know more about the artists and history and shit like that.

Eventually I stumbled upon this song. I didn’t know he knew how to not yell let alone story tell and sound smooth, and it changed my entire view on him. After listening to this album countless times and digging up more info about DMX, I realized that DMX has a crazy arsenal of different flows and sounds, and I think this album showcases his talent. He has this loud barking style in some of his more aggressive songs. But also he can switch it up and sound smooth and just cool as fuck. But no matter what he always kinda shifts in between these two sounds and as the listener I feel like you can just tell that he has a wild temper. Makes sense tho cuz of his crazy upbringing, and he was in an outta jail before this album.

Just some quick fact to illustrate the world DMX grew up in ⬇️

He was “raised” by teen parents that beat him growing up in Yonkers, New York. Beat him as in, there’s a story where his mom knocked his teeth out with a broomstick. Theres a story where DMX stabbed a kid in the face with a pencil when he was fuckin 6 years old. At 10 years old he got arrested for arson cuz he was trying to burn his school down. At 14 DMX moved out and slept on the streets to get away from his mom's abuse. In high school that’s when he started really gaining that reputation of being “unfuckwithable.” Only attending school to Rob 3 people per day, and eventually got into the rest of the gangster activities. .

Like this fool has a fucking wild history, and that’s probably what gives him that griddy sound. Combining that upbringing with his talents in hip hop just sounds unbelievable and gives him an incredibly unique style.

I could write a fuckin essay about DMX but that’s not what I’m tryna do with this account. Just tryna focus on single songs. But I think talking about and listening to DMX is much more interesting when you have a broad idea of his background.

“How’s It Goin Down” is one of my favorite DMX songs. The story telling on this track is great and I feel like you get a good perspective of who DMX is as a person. He raps about meeting and being into this chick that has a boyfriend. Mentions how he heard that her boyfriend hit her because she had banged Him. He considers what seems like killing him but doesn’t because he had 2 kids with that chick. DMX knows that it would be wrong to leave the kids and her without a father, and at the end of the song even admits that he’s wrong for being with her. I think this song and story is a good showcase of what DMX calls his inner demons, showing that he keeps his cool until situations call that wild gangster side of him.

Also fuckin A this song is just smooth as hell, lyrics and shit aside, DMXs flow is so good on this beat. He kinda goes in and out of this cool dude and demon side of him. Like his voice changes when he talks about a situation and you can hear that demon side kinda showing face a bit. That’s why I said before that you can hear the temper he has.

DMX’s real name is Earl hahahah. Funny to me when I think of just his first name. But his full name is Earl Simmons and that sounds tuff.

#hiphop #rap #DMX #90s rap

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Note

congratulations! 📚 could you do promos 4 & 7 from the smut with Natasha Romanoff???

by the way, I hope you have a great day/night!

Brat

Relationship: CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, fingering, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I went a bit CEO!Natasha with this one - hope that’s okay, I thought it lent well! Also, thank you! I hope you're having a nice day/night as well :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You really didn’t want to go and Natasha knew this but she was also quite the persuasive one, having such a dominance to her that you could rarely, if ever, say no to.

So, that’s how you found yourself a bit grumpily sitting in the car passenger seat while your girlfriend drove you two to whatever charity banquet this was.

Natasha was constantly getting these invitations being the high-up, fancy CEO that she was and usually you were fine with them. You liked the little appetizers and flutes of champagne. You especially liked your girlfriend parading you around, showing you off to fancy city people.

But tonight just wasn’t the night for you. You had had a ridiculous day at your own job and frankly, you just wanted to lounge around with your girl, maybe order pizza, and have lazy sex. Natasha had shut down your idea, saying she already RSVP’d for you two. Grudgingly, you shoved yourself into a dress and let her whisk you away

Little did she know, though, that you weren’t letting down easily. You had some potential ideas for the night, hoping that maybe — just maybe — you can rile Natasha up enough to keep her focus just on you and not the millionaires trying to network.

Upon arriving at the event, you hunted down the first tray of champagne you could find, taking a swig of the alcohol promptly. Natasha followed your path, stopping every now and then to chat, but once she was free of the schmoozing, she marched right towards you. An arm made it was tightly around your waist.

"What is your problem?" She gritted in your ear just below a whisper so no one could pick up on the tension. Your eyes darted around the room

"Nothing," you responded, taking another sip of champagne.

Natasha scoffed. "Well, you’re acting like a brat." She grabbed your glass out of your hand. You gasped but before you could protest, Natasha asked, "Is this because I made you come here tonight?

You shot her a look before taking back your champagne and finishing it off. "I’m gonna go get another drink."

Before your girlfriend could pull you back to her, you were already on a rampage for the bar. Luckily, no one tried to stop you. Thanks to your relations with Natasha, you had worked up a bit of your own status but it wasn’t like anyone genuinely cared. You weren’t negotiating deals.

You leaned on the bar and signaled for the bartender. You asked for something a little stronger. He nodded politely and got to making the drink. You turned your attention to the freshly polished wood of the bar.

Running a finger over it carelessly as you waited, out of the corner of your eye you noticed someone approach beside you. It was a man you somehow didn’t recognize. He looked very well put-together, almost like he was trying too hard, with his designer pressed suit and hair that could go up in flames from all the product in it.

You tried to ignore him, turning your attention to the bartender who was still at work, but it was hard when the man was not-so-subtly inching towards you. This wasn’t going to go very well, you thought. But you weren’t stopping it.

"In need of something to get you through the night?" The man suddenly asked. Your gaze shot over to him.

"Excuse me?"

He chuckled, "I meant the drink."

As if on cue, a glass was placed right in front of you. You wrapped your hands around it, slowly bringing it to your lips for a sip as you eyed the stranger. He was watching you quite intensely.

You hummed, delighted by the cocktail. "These things can sometimes be…draining."

He sighed. "Tell me about it."

The conversation fell into a lull. You tried glancing around at the other patrons, all completely oblivious to the bar, but just couldn’t shake this man and his eyes which were still watching you. They shamelessly took in the curves of your dress and even lingered a bit on your chest.

Your stomach dropped as you suddenly saw him step even closer, his finger lightly brushing your arm in the process. You froze but still made no chance to dash away. Maybe your goal of annoying your girlfriend tonight was going a bit too far…

"You know," he began, his voice dangerously low, "if you wanted to sneak away for a bit—"

"She doesn’t," Natasha gritted as she suddenly approached you two. You just about let out a sigh of relief as her arm came around your waist, pulling you into her side. You yelped at the action, stumbling a bit, but she held you tight.

The mystery man looked you two over, a bit of a pleased expression graced his face. But he didn’t press further, probably very deterred by the daggers Natasha’s eyes were shooting at him. He collected his drink from the bar and raised it at you two as if in some awkward toast.

"Fair enough, ladies," he said, and then he was back in the crowd, lost in the sea of aristocrats.

You didn’t know what to do now, opting to stare down at your drink.

"What the hell was that about?" Natasha asked.

"I- He just came up to me," you pouted.

Natasha shook her head in disappointment as she began walking you two away from everyone else. You didn’t know where she was leading you until you were roughly pulled into the women’s restroom. It was empty, thankfully, and you heard the turn of the lock as you placed your drink on the counter.

"He just came up to you," Natasha repeated. She was sauntering over, looking very much more like some powerful CEO than your sweet girlfriend. You gulped and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink. "He may have came up to you but I didn’t see you making any moves to walk away."

"Well—"

"And you let him touch you," she scoffed. "Don’t think I didn’t see his fingers on your fucking arm." For emphasis, she gripped the spot he had brushed over. You yelped. "What made you think he could do that, hmm? What, did you forget who you belong to?"

"No, Natasha, I didn’t mean—" You pleaded but she wasn’t buying it.

"I’m not buying it," she said as she roughly turned you around, her back pressing your front into the bathroom counter. "In fact, I think you need a little reminder."

You held your breath in anticipation as Natasha began gathering the skirt of your dress. You knew what she was going to find underneath. And you certainly knew it wasn’t going to help your case.

Sure enough, once your lower region was exposed, Natasha let out a gasp. “No panties? Are you kidding me right now?!”

"Natasha, please—"

"You really are a fucking brat, aren’t you?"

You tried shaking your head but it was no use. Her mind was made as she pressed into you even more, her hand now coming to caress your inner thigh. You whimpered out your girlfriend’s name as her fingers began slowly circling your clit. She chuckled in your ear before collecting some of the wetness dripping from your folds and putting attention back on your clit.

"So wet for me," Natasha murmured. "It is for me, right? Or did that man out there get you dripping like a needy slut?"

You groaned, captivated by the action happening between your thighs. "Just for you," you said as your eyes slowly fluttered. Natasha picked up the pace adding slight pressure as well. You squealed.

"That’s it," she whispered, holding you tighter around the waist. "That’s my girl."

Suddenly, though, she moved her fingers back to your folds where, without warning, she shoved two fingers inside you. You yelped, twisting in her grip. She didn’t even budge. You cried out as the fingers flicked upwards, hitting just the right spots.

"If you want to act like a slut you have to deal with being fingered like one, got it?" Natasha said. Her mouth was practically on your ear, she was whispering so lowly it sent goosebumps up your arms. She was pissed and serious. You were loving it.

"Y-Yes, Natasha." You barely managed to get the words out but your girlfriend seemed very pleased. Her fingers picked up — significantly. A squelching noise now filled the bathroom, coming directly from your wetness which was not stopping any time soon it seemed. Natasha was also taking the moment to make sure her hand was hitting your clit. With every single pump. It was getting overwhelming very, very fast.

You spoke again, "Please, please… I’m gonna cum."

"Yeah?" Natasha mocked. "My little slut needs to cum?"

You nodded your head profusely. "Please, please." The begging was becoming second nature at this point, your only instinct. Natasha seemed very pleased with that.

"Fine," she huffed. "Cum all over my fingers you greedy little girl. And you better scream when you cum. I want every single person, especially that man, to know who’s treating you so well."

Her paced picked up even more (how that was possible you didn’t know) and your body reacted wonderfully. Within moments, you were crumbling like a house of cards. Your orgasm rushed over you as you cried out much louder than you had actually intended. You couldn’t stop as Natasha continued to work you through the orgasm. She didn’t give up until you were limp in her arms.

She chuckled, watching your body practically collapse from pleasure. "Was that good, honey?"

"Yes," you mumbled, leaning into her body. Natasha fixed your dress and brought her hand to caress your cheek.

"Good," she said and placed a quick kiss on your lips. "Maybe that’ll teach you to behave."

Now it was your turn to laugh. "Why would I behave when that’s what I get for being bad?"

Abruptly, Natasha’s hand came around your neck, forcing you to look at her. Her gaze was dark, her CEO stance still very much engaged. "Don’t even tempt me."

You bit your lip teasingly but nodded your head slowly. You certainly didn’t mean it, though, already secretly planning the next time you could ruffle her feathers.

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

#Bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #avengers fluff #the avengers #marvel #marvel fluff #winter soldier #sebastian stan #fatws

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

Text

Knight in Shining Red Armor | Dante + Child!Reader (DMC 4)

A/N: Hey so this is a rewrite of one of my first (and only) DMC fic from like...2016. This takes place post-DMC 4

You can read the og one on my DeviantArt! But if you're here for the new one then I hope ya'll enjoy!

Summary: Child!Reader was taken under Dante's wing after being saved from a demon invasion, but even years later he hesitates to tell them what he truly is, fearing they'll resent him for his demonic heritage.

............

"Hey, um..Dante?"

"What's up, kiddo?" The red-clad devil hunter asked, though he wasn't completely paying attention to you. Rather he was sitting at his desk, feet kicked up as he was flipping through a magazine.

Meanwhile you were roaming around the shop, stopping only to gaze at the massive curved sword with glowing gems hanging on the wall behind him. He mentioned claiming many weapons--"Devil Arms" as they were called--from defeated demons, but you were curious about their names.

"Just wondering..what's that sword behind you called?"

"The Sparda. It sealed the barrier between the Underworld and human world. Nero went through hell and back, quite literally, to return it to me, so don't even think about touching......it?"

Dante put the magazine down as he turned to see you holding the Sparda in your small hands. You smiled triumphantly, but stumbled a bit before the blade accidentally slammed into the wooden floor, making you wince.

"Oops."

Yet your little act amused him, as he chuckled and shook his head. "You're a little too young to go devil-hunting, I'm afraid. But maybe one day you will."

"And maybe you can help pay off Dante's debt, too." Trish lightly joked as she entered the room, taking the giant sword from you and putting it back on the wall.

Her words were responded by a groan from the male, who went back to reading.

"Whatcha reading?"

Dante slowly lowered the magazine to see you sitting on his desk, but he just snapped it shut and tossed it into the trash, out of your line of sight. "Nothing that eyes like yours gotta see."

"Okay....ooooooh, what's this briefcase?" Hopping off the desk, you ran over to Pandora and crouched down to poke the skull emblem.

"Pandora. That baby can turn into six hundred and sixty six different weapons, but...right now we only have access to seven." Now he was feeling like an exhausted teacher on a museum trip, trying to explain each exhibit to his hyper first graders--the exhibits being his Devil Arms.

Yet as you ran around asking him about more of them, he couldn't help but see his childhood-self reflected in you. Just full of energy and never-ending curiosity and optimism.

Yeah..he definitely saw the resemblance.

Eventually you decided to leave him be and dash off to your room.

And only then did Dante drop his smile, sighing as he put both feet back on the ground. He ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down the side of his face tiredly.

"You know..you'll have to tell them eventually." Trish reminded.

"How, though? That kid's afraid of all demons..hybrids or not. I'm pretty sure saying "oh by the way the guy who rescued you is actually half-demon" is gonna send 'em running, and...I can't risk that." He shook his head, gazing at the jukebox in the corner.

"But I think [y/n]'s old enough to comprehend the concept of not all demons being evil," Lady chimed in after overhearing the conversation. "Just give it to them straight and I'm sure they'll understand."

As much as Dante wanted to argue, he saw that she had a valid point. But he still worried...

How would you react?

It's been a few years since he saved you from a Mega Scarecrow, though it turned out that more demons invaded your neighborhood, slaughtering everyone you knew and loved. And as he took you back to the shop to patch you up, he could see the terror in your eyes, any traces of innocence long gone.

No child should have gone through such a tragedy.

A tragedy that he was all-too familiar with.

After the defeat of the Savior, things have been looking up. You've regained your happiness as you lived in Devil May Cry and learned of Dante's tales of devil hunting, though the memories of that horrible night never truly left you alone.

Along with that, just seeing a demon is enough to make you run and hide, and you were terrified when you first met Nero and saw his demonic arm.

From that incident alone, Dante became extremely reluctant to tell you of his own demonic heritage.

He just didn't know if he's only hurting you more by keeping it hidden..

...............

Later that night, you were plagued by yet another nightmare. Different demons, same neighborhood...same deaths of your loved ones.

But in this one Dante got hurt, too. And you tried so hard to be brave for him, even shouting in the demon's face...but in the end you failed as it snatched you away, dragging you into the darkness of the Underworld before he could reach you.

Although you calmed down since awakening, you wanted to be sure he was alright.

So with what little moonlight shone in the shop's darkness, you located the worn sofa where Dante laid. He was engrossed in some TV program, though after sensing your presence his eyes flickered to you.

No words had to be exchanged in order for him to see what was wrong, as he sat up and patted the spot beside him. You smiled in relief and climbed onto the sofa, snuggling into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. "Th-Thanks, Dante."

"No prob. So uh..another nightmare, I guess?"

"Yeah, but..they hurt you, too and...I-I tried staying brave. I shouted at them to leave you alone and..they didn't listen. But...I think one of them looked scared of me."

"Wow." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Gotta say I'm impressed."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Y'know demons are used to seeing kids scream and cry, not take a stand against them. Plus that's pretty epic of you to defend me, so thanks." With a smile, he ruffled your hair.

"You're welcome," you giggled a bit. "But..I really just wanna be as brave as you. I mean...Nero says you laugh at giant demons and tease them all the time. How do you do that without being scared?"

"Well..it comes with the business. Getting them riled up just makes the fight more fun. At least for me. You might think I'm crazy but if ya decide to hunt demons one day...you'll see what I mean."

"But until then, could I watch you fight one? Like a big bad one?"

"......."

"Dante?"

"..kid, there's a reason I never took you on any missions." Dante sighed, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat as he carefully planned his next words. "And how I always...bounce back from getting smacked by a demon tail. No human would be able to withstand that without some broken bones."

"Oh?" You tilted your head. "Then..how can you if you're human?"

"....because I'm not fully human."

As much as he wanted to shut up, he decided to tell you the truth once and for all, not sugarcoating anything:

He explained how his parents were a demon and human--a forbidden romance which resulted in himself and Virgil being born. His bloodline allowed them to blend in with humans, exercise their demonic abilities in battle, and even tap into their true demon forms.

All the while you listened silently, with not much emotion on your face. So it was hard for him to tell what you were probably thinking in this moment.

It scared him.

"...and that's it." He sighed, closing his eyes and looking away from you. "So go ahead and hate me if you want. I won't blame you for-"

"Can you show me?"

Dante blinked stupidly as he swung his head back towards you, wondering if he heard you right.

"I...wish you told me before, but I don't wanna be scared of demons anymore." You smiled a tiny bit as you elaborated. "Especially not one who helped me. So...can I see your other form?"

"...a-alright. Just...if you get scared I can turn back instantly, so don't freak."

"I won't."

He had doubts you'll keep your word, but he got up and activated his Devil Trigger form. As he opened his eyes, you gasped upon seeing how much they were glowing--being orange rather than blue. Red electric sparks danced around his metallic body as he observed you close, anticipating your reaction. He expected you to scream or cry.

Yet..there was only curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

"Scared yet?" He asked in his distorted voice, crouching down in front of you.

Not even the way he spoke startled you, as you just shook your head. "I was wrong all along..not all demons are bad."

"Not even this one?"

"Nope. You look awesome..like a knight in shiny red armor."

"...wow..I um...." For once, the talkative devil hunter was at loss for words. But when you learned forward to hug him around the neck, he was completely shocked.

Earlier in the day he thought of countless worse-case scenarios, and yet...the best-case was happening right now.

You were accepting him, hugging him even.

He couldn't believe it.

Dante smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, making sure his armor spikes didn't hurt you. "Thanks, kid. It really means a lot that you're not terrified anymore........[y/n]?" He was concerned about your lack of response, before realizing you were dozing off.

'Damn..I might make a pretty good dad, after all..' He mused, standing up and making the trek back to your bedroom. Then he set you down and tucked you in, relief and warmth in his heart.

He had a feeling that your nightmares won't be so bad anymore. Now he felt like he could truly protect you.

Why?

Because he was gonna be your knight in shining red armor.

"Jeez, man. Quit clanking around shit and---AH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

"Shhhh! Chill out, Nero. You'll wake 'em." Dante was quick to shift back to his human form once he was outside your room, glaring at his nephew. "Why are you so freaked out? This ain't the first time you've seen my devil form."

"But still..why in the middle of the night?! Thought we had company."

"...just go back to bed, kid."

"Don't call me kid!"

#devil may cry x reader #dmc x reader #dmc 4 x reader #child reader #dante x reader #dmc dante x reader

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

yoongi grills stem koo’s ass <3

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo wants to explain himself and yoongi may not want to listen

"hyeji's never packed you a sandwich before?"

jungkook pales at the mention, mouth drying when he sees yoongi bring up the soft smile that doesn't comfort him at all

“the one that’s all knuckle?”

oh my god

IS THIS A RIDDLE????

yoongi tilts his head in amusement when this pathetic excuse for your past crush is calculating what he just said in his mind

what is a sandwich that’s all knuckle?? but it doesn’t even rhyme!!

aren’t riddles sUPPOSED to rhyme????

jungkook’s more than well-versed in stem-related problems that are just rephrased 237 times over and over so that it wouldn’t be as easy to solve

he can solve that!!!

but this!!! :O his mind is short-circuiting pls do not approach him

“hm?” yoongi’s smile patronizes him further and puts him on the spot, straightening his figure and jungkook’s quick to stop him from coming back inside your dorm

“i want to-“

“i asked you — have you ever had a knuckle sandwich?”

yoongi enunciates with so much clarity that kook finds his mind blanking, tripping over his words he hasn’t even formed yet

“i-is it-...” he stalls, trying to rack his mind for the bread he’s not sure he’s ever even heard of in his life, “i-is it like, a pork thing? uhm, t-the pig’s knuckle? and then you put it between, uhm, bread?”

,,,, laughable

jungkook’s supposed to be smart, isn’t he? or atleast that’s what yoongi thinks he’s supposed to be

lmao he would’ve laughed at the boy’s poor attempts if only he wasn’t furious at him

he’s dumb but not the endearing kind ://

“no,” yoongi drawls out, pretending to fish something out from his pocket

jungkook watches in intrigue, thinking that yoongi’s reaching for his phone to show him a picture of what it looks like

the hypothetical situation in jungkook’s mind is clearly not the one that happens

jungkook SHRIEKS as he stumbles on his heels backward — crystal clear to him that yoongi was not looking for his phone, but instead balling his fist and him being the receiving end

almost the receiving end

yoongi almost sucker-punches jungkook in a blink, fist literally a millimeter away from his nose and the only thing he could see at the moment is red

... red and jungkook’s wide eyes that have never carried this much fear up until now

“that’s a knuckle sandwich, kid. would’ve fed it to you if only y/n isn’t in the room right behind me.”

holy fuck

his heart is beating right against his ribcage and that shouldn’t be possible, fists closing upon themselves nervously as he tries to soothe his thumb so his mind relaxes

spoiler alert: it doesn’t work

jungkook’s mind is all over the place, even more rattled than it was when he takes a text without studying (he was so low he got a 98), but the only thing that’s clear is that you’re behind this door

“yoongi — mister yoongi, please. i-i need to explain myself, and if only you let me try, i can!! i swear. i’m not forcing you but-...”

there he is again

jungkook’s only been in his sight for like two minutes but his eyes are already sore

“why are you even here?” he scowls and even if the younger boy’s taller than him, every bit of his posture and demeanor at the bite of his words scream small, “why go all this length for someone you stomped on today, then have the gall to be a crybaby about it?”

he's speechless and it only serves him right, looking at his mudded-up converse and trying to focus on anything besides the guilt within

"m-my explanation," jungkook mutters, hands behind his back as if he's being scolded, “will you tell y/n?”

yoongi releases an agitated breath at him muttering your name

he dOESN'T get to say your name!! no!!! not after what he did to you

“i’m not concerned about you. what i decide to do or not, has nothing to do with whatever you say right now.”

kook solemnly nods, and even if yoongi's much harsher in your words compared to yours, the gravity of yours with him not being related to you cuts deeper

there's nothing else he could care about, actually

jungkook follows campus curfews to a T and would come home two hours earlier in the rare event that he goes somewhere

but now, he couldn't care less when the dorm master could just be there any second and he'd pass a hall monitor like usual

for the whole day, you were the only one that occupied his mind

"i know hyeji isn’t the one."

god, it was clear as day

he'll be the first one to admit that he can't read people very well, but he knew from the start that it's probably not hyeji who's been packing his lunchboxes

jungkook sometimes takes attendance in behalf of the professor because as much as he's shy, he's also a teacher's pet

the classes she shared with hyeji? she wasn't present everyday for the whole duration of two weeks, and how could it be that she still managed to make him a lunchbox if she wasn't present in the campus at all?

there was a probability that it could've been her, but it was so low that it sat right next to improbable

"i-i entertained the possibility briefly that she was, but then nothing was making sense the more i thought about it."

jungkook sometimes also checks papers because his professors trust him enough and he has perfect scores anyway, so he uses his own as his answer key

"i needed to interview y/n for an assignment, a-and a signature above a name was needed and it was just so familiar."

the moment he racks his head for hyeji's writing, it seemed fAR from the writing on the sticky notes on the lunchboxes

"then she seemed mad at me, but when i went to her on the field to try and confront her-" jungkook pauses and almost whispers the next part, the shame on his skin starting to seep into his bones, "she told me that we weren't related for me to feel hurt about it."

yoongi clenches his jaw, a pressure forming on the center of his eyebrows because he knows where this is leading

"a-and i thought it was hyeji again."

jungkook can't bring himself to be elated that it's been you the whole time because he might be a little too late; a little too late when he's already subjected you to the heartbreak you didn't deserve

"i-i didn’t know what clicked in my mind but i was just so hurt that-"

that's the fiNAL straw for yoongi

this has been him trying to keep his anger at bay the whole time, but this one!! this one he can't just accept

"you are a fucking asshole. honestly."

jungkook slightly winces with the sudden cussing, but it barely scratches the surface

"you think you’re the only one hurt? tell that to me who’s never seen y/n cry so hard before — or even cry at all."

his explanation wasn't an excuse and he knows it, but nonetheless, it tears him apart

"i’m sorry."

his lips quiver and he's trying sO hard not to cry in front of his senior, but yoongi doesn't feel even the slightest remorse for the kid

"i don’t care. you don’t apologize to me; you apologize to y/n. whether she forgives you or not, which for the record i don’t think she should, you cannot take back what you said."

if what jungkook said was eVER said to yoongi, given that he had the same circumstances as you did, he wouldn't know how to bounce back at all

it's a pain he doesn't wish to feel and he could only helplessly look at you who's trying to navigate it

perhaps you don't even plan to navigate it — knowing you, you're just gonna sail through it all to the point you're not giving yourself enough time to even realize that you already are

it was the same cycle of trying to move on without grieving through it properly that it hurts yoongi and seokjin and the tiny amount of people around you

"grovel at her feet. cry her an ocean. commit penitence. whatever you wanna come up with, no matter what, you do not make my y/n feel like she isn’t deserving of love."

you're family and yoongi goes above and beyond for family.

"i don’t care if you make up. i don’t care if you don’t. all i know is that in any other place besides outside the room she sleeps in, i’d hurt you like you hurt her."

jungkook almost wishes that yoongi punches him now and he won't even try to dodge it

"i deserve it."

"you do."

they whole-heartedly agree and it's the only time that yoongi can get behind jungkook's words

"i’m always gonna be on y/n’s side, kid."

there's no other way around it and as much as you know it or not, you've cemented your position in yoongi's heart unknowingly

"the only way that i’m gonna be on yours is when you’ve earned my utmost respect," he can't even see when that happens, crossing his arms across his chest, "and you don’t."

jungkook's tears are falling to the floor but they don't get on his cheeks, the sudden set of footsteps coming from his side making his head straighten and wipe his eyes immediately

he's the only one alarmed and he spares yoongi a glance, then to said person

yeah right that couldn't have been you :((

the guy who's approaching doesn't stop walking and he looks like.... he's uh,,, coming to where he's exactly standing????

he seems oddly familiar though

“oh, taehyung!"

where did he hear that name before??

taehyung stands at the same height as jungkook, maybe a centimeter or two taller, but he just couldn't stop looking at him from the corner of his eyes

yoongi's oblivious to jungkook's ongoing deduction, immediately engulfing taehyung in conversation

"y/n’s already asleep. i could do her part of the project-“

he offers because he recalls that right, you told him that taehyung's coming over to finish your shared project of a business plan late tonight

uhhhhh you're kinda zooted and going through it rOUGH so yoongi doesn't mind doing your contribution for you

“yoongi!! oh no man, it’s not what i came here for," he leans for a side hug, eyes landing on jungkook to drop a polite smile to acknowledge him

jungkook only slightly bows, confused but even more intrigued because he heard your name in the conversation

"i just uh, i just saw y/n crying while i was on my way home awhile ago, and i didn’t get to ask why, but i felt bad, so i came by to drop some cookies.”

taehyung continues talking and it leaves yoongi and jungkook stunned, but he only focuses his attention on the former

“you looked like a hazelnut cookie kind of guy, so i baked some too!! is y/n allergic to peanuts? i put some too in a separate container in case she is.”

yoongi laughs and they go from there

IT'S LIKE JUNGKOOK ISN'T EVEN HERE!!!!

baby he's here he's nOT a hallucination!!!!

despite the fact that he's sticking out like and (unacknowledged) sore thumb, no one makes a move to take the conversation elsewhere

“thanks, tae. damn, you did all this yourself?”

yoongi whistles when he takes the tupperware opening it and almost watering at the sight

he doesn't mind baking cookies for you in case you wake up hungry, but taehyung really just did himself a nice favor without knowing it

he smiles softly, eyes narrowing in intrigue now that he realizes

"taehyung. no offense, but you’ve only interacted with y/n like once and it’s only for a project. why would you bake her uhhh 28 cookies?”

hehe

“35, actually :D”

tae interjects, waving him off when yoongi's jaw drops even further

“yeah, i know. i just felt so sorry for her — i’m not related to y/n but i just felt like i wanted to make her feel better.”

jungkook's jaw locks at this, his breathing becoming shaky all over again, fists balled this time

“it’s like,, economics!! i don’t actually know, maybe??? i’m in visual arts. y/n took over my part for me when i was sick-“

".... so you made her 30 cookies."

taehyung's the personification of a golden retriever and now that he thinks about it, jungkook reckons seeing him more than a handful of times

he laughs deeply at yoongi's rebutt and it may be in unfortunate timing that jungkook realizes he kNOWS him

he's in the same year!! he's the one that takes the portraits for the school paper and it's always his name in the credits

"good night, yoongs. hug y/n for me. tell her i'll take over her part, no questions asked."

taehyung walks away and he's perfectly content even if he didn't get to give you the cookies like jungkook thought he would

"night, taehyung."

yoongi looks at the retreating figure briefly, then looks at jungkook pointedly

he doesn't realize that he's still budging and listened on an entire conversation, dropping his head when yoongi points to the elevator

"bye, jungkook."

"good night, yoongi."

he feels hesitant to leave but it's probably for the better, putting his hands in his pockets still not enough to make his hands stop trembling

kook stops at the middle of his walking, turning his head to look back at yoongi whose mouth already has crumbs

"c-can i see y/n tomorrow?"

"i'm not her dad."

jungkook nods somberly, leaving it at that while his bulk of emotions consume him

he thinks all about the ways he could attempt to make it up to you, a million ideas in his head but his head doesn't hurt

his nose twitches at the lingering scent the cookies left, annoyed at the persistent smell and perhaps the boy that brought them

jungkook's never really liked cookies.

#WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN NEXT :O PLACE UR BETS BESTIES #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook oneshot #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook scenario

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luminnara · 3 years

Note

I wonder what Dick would be like trying to flirt on the lead up if the mission, trying to be smooth and cool before screaming next to Weasel. The back track of trying to be cool again after than freak out would be glorious and I would probably fall for it, lol

Dick Hertz x fem!reader

This ended up way longer than intended and I am not mad about that lol

Sfw but raunchy!

Requests for oneshots and HCs are open!

You were no stranger to the concept of the suicide squad.

Thanks to your own colorful past, and powers that you couldn’t always quite control at first, you were stuck serving out a long ass sentence at Belle Reve, the shittiest shit hole of them all. Your only escape from the mundane, high-security monotony was the occasional mission from Waller.

The Suicide Squad—more officially known as Task Force X—was the latest installment in Amanda Waller’s series of highly classified, top secret, black ops teams. She chose Belle Reve’s most infamous criminals, many of whom had extraordinary powers and even more extraordinary reputations, and tossed them together on incredibly dangerous missions. You knew she didn’t care whether you lived or died, but successfully completing such impossible tasks always cut time off your sentence, and with nothing else to do with your time, you always thought it was worth the risk.

And besides...you hadn’t died yet.

So when Waller approached you during your daily yard time, you already knew what to expect.

“Yeah, yeah.” You grumbled as you followed her into the exam room and plopped down in the same old chair. “I know the drill. I go off mission, you blow my brains out.”

“—with the explosive device implanted in the base of your skull. Correct.” Waller said, unimpressed.

“And what, you have to give me a fresh one?” You raised an eyebrow as the doctor made you lean forward. “Lose the button for the last one or something? Or are you afraid that just one won’t do the job?”

Waller looked even less impressed. “I suggest you put a lid on that attitude today.”

“Why?” You winced at the feeling of a thick needle pushing into the back of your neck. “Jesus, fuck! Seriously, how many little bombs do I need in my head?”

“Good luck, puppy.” The doctor sneered as you stood up to follow Waller back out into the corridor.

“This is a black ops mission.” She continued with her usual spiel. “Your commanding officer is Colonel Rick Flag.”

You gasped. “The Colonel Rick Flag?”

She turned to glance at you.

“I have no idea who that is.”

You could hear her sigh in exasperation. “Suit up and go outside to the transport. You’ll meet the rest of the team and fly out to Corto Maltese.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Yeah, the Suicide Squad was a nice distraction from your shitty everyday life...but putting your ass on the line for someone who didn’t give a shit whether you lived or died, and who was always hovering above the button that would splatter your brains all over the wall, wasn’t exactly the greatest feeling in the world.

Waller waited as you ducked into a room to change. There was a black box waiting for you, and upon opening it, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your old gear. The dark gray leather suit fit like a glove, and your gun had been cleaned and polished after your last mission, the painfully bright fluorescent lights reflecting off of the barrel with a gleam. You grabbed your gloves and strapped your ammo belts on before buckling a gray carbon fiber mask on.

Wearing your own stuff always lifted your spirits. It was the suit you’d been arrested in a few years ago back in Metropolis, and after seizing it, the feds had been nice enough to give it some upgrades with newer tech. Anything to make you a better government-sanctioned killing machine, you guessed, and it’s not like you were gonna turn it down. After all, killing was how you ended up in Belle Reve in the first place, and it was one of the only things you were good at...it just made sense for Waller to want to put your near-inhuman skills to good use.

You walked out to join her again, lugging a canvas bag of equipment and supplies along behind you.

“Pick that up and carry it correctly.” She snapped as the doors at the end of the hall opened.

“Why don’t you eat my—“

You interrupted yourself by groaning at the bright sunlight as it hit your eyes, raising a hand to shield your face as you managed to spot an armored truck waiting for you.

“You’ll have a lot of new teammates.” Waller called after you. “Be on your best behavior. I’m not responsible for anything they do to you.”

“Probably just a bunch of old farts like always!” You yelled back as you jumped up into the back of the vehicle.

Two guards sat down on either side of you as you got yourself settled in. There was another woman already waiting, her skin orange, her hair in a high ponytail that seemed to be pulled through the top of her helmet. She was regarding you with very little interest, and that was absolutely fine with you. You had a few friends within the Belle Reve prison complex, and you weren’t necessarily looking for more.

The ride was short and uneventful. You passed through a few gates that took forever to open, waited for a few security checks, the usual shit. When the truck came to a halt and you hopped out again, you were at a small airbase hosting a few hangars for planes and helicopters, one of the latter already sitting outside. Guards from Belle Reve were lining the circle of armored vehicles, and as yours joined them and the back doors were opened once more, you grimaced at the bright sunlight.

“Afraid of a little sun?” The orange woman laughed, baring her teeth at you.

“Hurts my eyes,” you mumbled, jumping down after her.

You landed on pavement, looking down at your feet in an attempt to avoid the oncoming headache you knew was imminent. When your shoulder rammed into someone, though, you had to look up anyway.

What you saw wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

A good looking blond guy was looking down at you, a cocky grin on his face. “Whoa, didn’t realize we were getting a babe this time!”

You glared at him, grateful for the mask covering the lower half of your face.

He couldn’t see you blush that way.

“Little girl’s got some ammo, huh?” He reached for one of the belts strapped across your chest,

Your hand flew up to grab his wrist and you held him in a Vice-like grip, your glare more pointed now. “Touch me, and you can see some of it from behind your eyeballs.”

Blondie whistled lowly, relaxing his arm. “You’re tough, huh? I like that in a girl.”

You dropped his wrist and rolled your eyes. “Still gonna like it when I’m ripping your balls off?”

You could swear he was swooning on his feet. “Baby, you are a goddamn tease...”

“Oy, Dickhead!” An Australian voice rang out, “back off!”

His grin faltered for a moment, obvious disappointment flashing over his face. “Oh. Got a man already. Damn.”

“Who, Boomer?” You grinned, unclipping your mask as you turned to wave at one of your only friends. “Nah, I’d never fuck that wanker.”

“I heard that!” The gold-toothed Aussie yelled.

You let out a loud laugh as you looked back to blondie.

You were caught off guard by the actual, genuine look on his face. He was admiring your smile now that your mask was off, his eyes lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second longer than they should have. He was trying to be smooth, you could tell, and most people wouldn’t have noticed something so slight...but you were an assassin working your way through a couple life sentences, and you weren’t most people.

It all only lasted a moment before the cocky grin was back. “So, after this, you wanna come back to my cell, maybe we could, you know...” he waggled his eyebrows at you, making a hip thrusting motion you almost couldn’t believe a grown criminal was making.

“Maybe focus on not dying first, slim.” You patted his chest before turning towards Boomer, leaving blondie to stare after you—or more precisely, your ass—with a dramatic, longing look.

Your friend was regarding you with an amused expression. “Flirtin’ on the job? Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Shut up.” You punched his arm a little too hard and he winced. “Who is that guy, anyway?”

“Dick,” Boomer said, rubbing his arm.

“Don’t call me a dick—“

“No, dumbass, that’s his name. Richard Hertz.”

“...very funny, Boomer, but there’s no fucking way his parents named their kid Dick Hertz.”

Boomer shrugged. “Believe me or don’t, I don’t care. Either way, it’s the truth.”

You scoffed and stole a glance over at your new admirer. He was tall and pretty well built, platinum blond hair short, lips pulled back in a grin that showed off straight white teeth. He was dressed in all black, two guns holstered to his chest, and as he messed with a Belle Reve guard by pretending to reach for one, he looked like an overgrown child who should not have been allowed to hold onto firearms.

“Please tell me he’s got a cooler name,” you groaned.

“Why? So you can scream it at night?” Boomer cackled. “He goes by Blackguard. He’s pretty strong from what I hear. Prolly pretty fun in bed, too.”

You wrinkled your nose and rounded on Boomer. “Shut up.”

“You like him.” Your friend grinned. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Just remember to name your kid after good ol’ Uncle Boomer.”

You gave him a rough shove and he stumbled back a few steps, laughing like a madman the entire time.

“Hey!” One of the guards barked at you.

Rather than pushing your luck with your armed babysitters, you huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. More cars were pulling up, dropping off the rest of your comrades, and while Boomer was distracted with them, you stole another glance at Dick.

He was still messing with the same guard, and was receiving some harsh warning glares in the process. Was he a complete idiot, or was he so cocky because he could actually handle it? He had to have ended up in Belle Reve for a reason. It wasn’t the type of place you went to for innocent misdemeanors. And if he was chosen for a Suicide Squad mission, that meant that his sentence was long enough to warrant risking his life to lessen it...and it also meant that he was useful.

When he winked at you, you realized with a start that he had totally noticed the way you were checking him out.

Fuck.

“Time to load up!” A voice yelled, saving you from any further embarrassment.

A few minutes later, you were strapping yourself into your seat on the chopper, pretending not to notice as Dick struggled with his seatbelt across from you. The guy sitting next to him had to help, and when you finally couldn’t help yourself, you let out a quiet laugh from behind your mask.

Dick’s head shot up to look at you, that cocky grin plastered to his face again.

“Wish you were over here helpin’ me,” he said bravely. “Rather have your hands down by my—“

“Dick.” Colonel Flag warned as he stood above you all with his gun in his hands.

Boomer let out a loud laugh at the unintentionally dirty euphemism and you snorted.

“What? Just makin’ some conversation,” Blackguard said, leaning towards you with a wolfish glint in his eyes. “You don’t mind, do ya, Princess?”

Your cheeks were heating up behind your mask, and he could see the way your eyes crinkled slightly with your smile.

God, he wished he could see your smile again.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice said. “Had to go number two.”

“...Good to know.” Flag sighed as none other than Harley Quinn herself hopped in.

“Harley!” You called, reaching for her with grabby hands as she looked for her seat.

“Hey there, baby!” The pale blonde woman greeted, slamming her equipment bag into Savant’s head. “Hey, Boomer!”

“What’re you doin’ back in prison, Harls?” Boomer asked, hanging onto the nylon mesh cage behind him as he stretched his arms out.

“Got road rage. In a bank.” She finally found a spot between you and Javelin, and as Flag checked everyone over, the chopper took off into the air.

The lighting was dim and red, the thrumming of the helicopter blades blending in with the white noise of the pressurized cabin. Save for that, it was quiet for a while, everybody either sizing each other up, or, in Dick’s case, imagining how you looked under your suit.

“So, uh...how much longer you in for?” He asked you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because I don’t exactly think I should be talkin’ about sneakin’ into your cell while Flag is here to rat me out about it,” Dick grinned.

You caught the colonel rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that never stopped anybody,” Harley said brightly.

“Boutta be in a whole big ass jungle,” Boomer elbowed you in the side. “Plentya room in there to be alone.”

You groaned as Dick gave you a sly grin.

“Y’know, this mission’ll be over in no time.” He said, stretching his arms out behind his head. “I’ve got some wicked ass powers. I got this.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, recognizing the way he was trying to peacock and impress you. “Not worried about anything?”

“Baby, I’ll carry this whole team. Just you watch.”

“I’m looking forward to it, Dick.” You bit his name out as more of an insult, but he didn’t seem to care, giving you another wink.

He obviously thought that his flirting and posturing was working...but you were pretty sure he was just annoying. Cute, but annoying. Maybe good for a hook up here or there...but that was about it.

“We’re in a butcher’s freezer, Harls!” Boomer called from the other end of the bench. “Surrounded by dead hogs hangin’ on hooks. Only they don’t know it yet.”

“Leave ‘em alone, Boomer!” She called back with a laugh.

You chuckled at your friends, leaning your head back as you settled in for the flight. Harley was complimenting Javelin’s accent, you still didn’t know what TDK stood for, and Boomer was just starting to mess with him about the fact that all names were made of letters when the freaky weasel-thing next to Dick stole everyone’s attention.

It was one of the strangest creatures you had ever seen. Human height, covered in mangy brown fur, with big bulging eyes and a mouth full of sharp little teeth all made it both fascinating and concerning to look at, and as it made a few disgustingly wet retching sounds, Dick nodded towards it.

“Yo, is this a dog?” He asked.

“...What?” You asked in disbelief. He had to be fucking with you, right? There was no way he meant it.

“Is this thing a dog?” He repeated.

“A...a dog?”

“Yes.”

“What...what kinda dog do you think it is, mate?” Boomer asked.

“I dunno, I’m not familiar with all the breeds.” Dick gave him an incredulous look.

“I’m gonna go with Afghan hound.” TDK said.

“Since when does an afghan hound have bloody thumbs?”

“Oh my god, is it a werewolf?” Harley asked excitedly. “I’ve wanted to meet a werewolf for ever!”

Dick was already up and struggling against his restraints. “Yo, they sat me next to a werewolf?!”

“That’s not right,” TDK agreed as his neighbor slammed into him in his desperate attempt at an escape.

Boomer was laughing loudly, and you couldn’t help but join in. “You’re seriously scared of werewolves?”

Dick glanced up at you as he tried to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Yes, I fuckin’ am! So fuckin’—get me out! I do not fuck with werewolves, there is no fuckin’ way—“

“Maybe you should hop onto your new girlfriend’s lap!” Boomer cackled, jabbing a finger towards you.

“Poor baby,” you cooed, and as you saw the look in Blackguard’s eyes, you were pretty convinced that he was about to try to tear his way out so that he actually could.

“Hey, hey, he’s not a werewolf!” Flag yelled over the commotion. “He’s a weasel, he’s harmless! I mean, he’s not harmless, he’s killed 27 children, but I—I think we got him to—I think he’s agreed to this, so relax.”

“Thought you were super tough?” You asked as Dick calmed down and caught his breath. “Gonna carry the whole team?”

Rather than the snarky flirtation you expected, he actually looked a bit defeated. When you raised an eyebrow, though, he took the prompt, and the most desperate backtracking you had ever seen began.

“Yeah, well...” he scoffed, trying to give you a cool look. “Caught me off guard, that’s all. No big deal.”

“Off guard? Isn’t guard, like, in your name?” You teased, your smile genuine behind your mask. Alright...he was winning you over now. He was an idiot, but...maybe he was a lovable one.

He faltered for a second. “I-I mean, yeah, well...”

Flag was shaking his head. “Get into position to drop!”

Everyone unbuckled themselves and collected their things, lining up to jump into the ocean off the coast of Corto Maltese. When you saw that Dick was back to struggling with it, again, you smiled to yourself and leaned down in front of him.

“For what it’s worth...” you said as you pulled up on the metal tab, your hand dangerously close to his crotch, “I wouldn’t mind shacking up somewhere in the jungle with you.”

He stated at you with wide eyes, disbelief written all over his face. He really was cuter when he wasn’t putting on such a dumb, cocky facade, and he jumped up as quickly as he could to follow you.

You just laughed as you straightened up and walked away, Blackguard right on your heels. As the door opened and the big, dark ocean came into view below you, you felt a hand brushing against your hip and a firm chest press up against your back. You realized you could have stayed right there forever, patiently waiting to see how far he was brave enough to go...but you were both members of the Suicide Squad, and you had a job to do.

“I’ll see you down there, Dick,” you said, turning your head slightly to glance at him.

“See you on the other side, baby,” he grinned.

#dick hertz #dick hertz x reader #richard hertz #Richard hertz x reader #blackguard x reader #blackguard #the suicide squad #the suicide squad x reader

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milkteahood · 3 years

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Okay, here’s my request or more of an idea. Detective Reader have been looking into the cases of unsolved missing children with the latest one stumping her. She is inevitably lead to a village in Romania. She is quickly attacked and dragged to Heisenberg factory. After coming to and hearing her captor name, she smiles and shouts, “You’re the kid I’ve been looking for!” She shows him pictures of him with his family as a kid. And, the picture of what people have guessed what he would looked like years later. All the missing posters and the unsolved murder of his parents. She’s happy and excited to have solved the case and find him, it actually takes her almost 6 minutes later to realize implications of how this kid missing in 1920’s can still be alive in 2021.

“Yes, I have decided to look into some cold cases. There are a lot of them and honestly I am just really bored on this holiday” Y/N spoke on the phone.

“You work non stop. Shouldn’t you at least take a break? Plus, what do you even expect to find in those archives?” the voice on the other end replied.

“Well, I literally have nothing else better to do. I like my job, this is something I want to do” Y/N said.

“Ugh fine. Have it your way”. The conversation quickly drifted to something else before Y/N finally ended the call.

And that’s how Y/N found herself in a back room full of archives and cases that went cold. She went through a lot of files, but none awoke her curiosity, until she stumbled upon one particular case. “Karl Heisenberg, Missing child” it said.

She read through the case and as it turns out, the child was never found. But they didn’t find the body either and there was no lead on the case. It was as if that child just vanished into thin air. This was the first time Y/N saw such a thin case file. There was barely anything in it, some pictures and some declarations. There were also some portraits made by other detectives who tried their luck on the case, resembling how Karl would look like over the ages.

The case dated back to 1952. Y/N was about to put the file back, but something stopped her. She didn’t know what it was that made her not put the file away, but she found herself taking it home. “Well, I definitely won’t solve this, but it will be an interesting read” she thought to herself.

At home she worked on different cases, going over them one by one, until she reached the last case she brought home. "Oh, I almost forgot about you" she said to herself. Shifting on her sofa, Y/N brought the mug to her lips, eyes not leaving her newly started lecture. "I wonder what happened to you, Karl".

The night was setting outside, yet Y/N was still reading and re reading the same case. Declarations from the parents about how their baby was kidnapped and witnesses saying they saw him with a woman. All of them described the woman in a strange way. Normally, she would've thought them to be crazy, but after everyone talked about the woman growing wings and vanishing with the child, she wasn't so sure what to believe anymore. Obviously people don't just grow wings. The entire file sounded like a poorly written fantasy story. Something from a book that was never edited and published. It did not sound like police statements at all.

She sighed and put the file down. "Goodness Karl, what on earth happened to you?" she paused "wait, what if.."

Y/N stumbled across her apartment while reaching for her laptop. Upon opening it, she began searching legends about women with wings, anything that could give her a lead on the case, but of course, she found nothing.

It took a long time of research until she realized, if she ever wanted to know what happened to this child, she would have to go to the last place he was seen. To this day Y/N has no idea what exactly pushed her into solving this case. She knew the child was dead. But maybe she truly wanted to know who or what the woman described in the declarations was.

How she ended from her comfortable bed to a village in the Romanian Mountains beats her. Although it was only middle of autumn, there was already snow in the village and the air was cold, so cold it hurt. The people living there were welcoming, but still very wary of her. She didn’t know what exactly she expected to find. She didn’t even know why she came all the way there. Even if that child was brought here, there is no way any of these people would know.

She kept walking the streets, ready to give up and just head back home, until she heard a familiar name. When she turned around, Y/N could hear two women talking.

“I heard Lord Heisenberg will come in the village today” one of them said.

“Shhh! Someone might hear you! We’re not supposed to talk about the lords like that” the other hushed her.

“Excuse me!” Y/N said before she even processed she was talking “who is this Heisenberg?”

Both women went pale and proceeded to turn around and walk away.

“We have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Please leave us alone”

It was common knowledge not to talk about to lords. Don’t look at them, don’t talk to them, don’t talk about them. They are to be treated with utmost respect. Although for Y/N, these unspoken rules were nonexistent. She had no idea she was not supposed to ask about Heisenberg’s whereabouts.

Little did she know this curiosity of hers was going to be the reason she is dragged across the forest and to a factory by a pack of monsters. Her screams and kicks did nothing and just as she thought that was the end of her, they dropped her on the cold floors of the factory and retreated.

“My my, aren’t you a curious one” a man’s voice could be heard.

Y/N tried to stand up and compose herself “I’m assuming you are Heisenberg?”

“Karl Heisenberg, a pleasure to meet you” he greeted.

“They named you after the kid” Y/N said, but more to herself.

“What child?” Karl’s eyebrows furrowed at her.

“The kid that was kidnapped and brought here ages ago, I suppose I had to right lead after all”.

Karl froze at that. She was talking about him, but of course she didn’t know that. Normally, he should be dead or really really old.

“How did you find this place?” he asked, intrigued.

“Oh, it was super difficult, and it’s a long story, so do you have time?”

“I have all the time in the world, so how about you take a sit and tell me more about this child”.

As Karl finally approached enough for Y/N to see him, she let out a gasp.

“What is it?” Karl asked, raising his eyebrows.

“You look exactly like the portraits!”

His eyebrows furrowed again as Y/N searched her bag for the case file.

“Look” she handed it to him.

The more Karl looked through the case file, the wider his eyes became. There were pictures of him as a child, of him and his family. People really did try looking for him and after all this time, someone did find him.

After giving it some thought about whether or not he should tell her the truth, he decided she could be helpful. After all, she found him when no one else could.

“The child you are looking for” he paused “it’s me”.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at that “ok ok, good one”.

“You just got dragged here by a pack of lycans” he said “one of them is a giant. So me being the child you are looking for isn’t the strangest thing, is it now?”

Y/N stopped laughing at that and looked at him, eyes widening in realization.

“I know you have a lot of questions, but so do I, so come on now, we have to talk” Karl said and began to walk away. Y/N followed close behind. This was surely going to be an interesting night.

#milkteas asks #heisenberg asks #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #re8 karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you

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wkemeup · 3 years

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Sunrise (1)

summary: After an explosion takes his arm and his only sense of belonging, Bucky is content to live out the rest of his days in the hollow comfort of the dark. This is, until Sam drags him down to the local VA and he meets you. (Modern AU) pairings: bucky x reader chapter word count: 3.5k warnings: heavy focus on Bucky’s PTSD/anxiety, the first splinter in the wall around Bucky’s heart 🧡 series masterlist / series playlist

This was a bad idea. A monumentally bad idea.

Bucky closed his apartment door behind him, pausing for a moment at the top of brownstone steps as a chill of autumn air swept by. Brittle to the touch, cool on his skin, it nestled into his spine and ached deep in his bones— in ones that had been long abandoned, too. The sun reflected against the shine of the pavement from last night’s rainfall, forcing Bucky to squint his eyes.

Was it always so bright outside? Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t left his apartment for nearly a week before Sam threatened to turn him over to Steve that he’d forgotten how unpleasant the streets of New York could be. Loud. Cold. Chaotic.

He stepped onto the sidewalk, slipping out of the path of a jogger who nearly ran him over and had the gull to flip him the bird. Bucky groaned, curling his right hand into a fist and digging it deep into his pocket as he tried to calm the sudden racing in his chest. The free arm of his army jacket swung down by his left side, empty.

Not even a few steps outside the sanctuary of closed curtains, warm bedsheets, and the unattended static of a decade old television, and Bucky was already regretting ever knowing Sam Wilson.

Bucky turned towards the busy street ahead, staring up at the hustle of pedestrians and rush of taxis for a moment longer before he dared to take a step. His feet felt remarkably heavy and he had more than half a mind to tell Wilson to shove it and head back up to his apartment. He had better things to do than make a completely unnecessary trip to the VA.

What those things were, he couldn’t say, but they didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to beat straight out of his chest. He could stare at a wall for a few hours, for example – see if he could find the crack in the drywall again and follow it to the ceiling.

“Don't be a coward, Barnes,” Bucky grumbled to himself, earning a strange look from an elderly woman as she passed by. Her eyes held on him longer than she should; clearly a woman who had little shame in her degradation of strangers.

He gritted his teeth and commanded his legs to move. Those worked, at least.

As he made his way to the main street, his palm started to sweat inside his pocket. He could see his breath in every tense exhale, and still, he was boiling hot under his jacket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d remove it, because even with a sleeve hanging loose off his shoulder, he could at least keep up the pretense there was something inside. People would have to look twice before they realized. Wasn’t so easy to hide a missing arm in a short sleeve shirt.

Still—he was thankful as he weaved his way upstream through the crowd that he wasn’t as broad as he used to be. A couple months' worth of weight loss, diminished muscle mass, and one less limb will do that do a guy.

He used to be the sort of man that women would glance at as he passed by. Charming smile. Infectious energy. He could make a woman bite shamelessly at the edge of her bottom lip with a single trail of his eyes along her figure. Extend a hand, offer a drink and a dance. He used to hold confidence in every ounce of his body.

Now, he kept his eyes on the pavement. He hid from the sun and the curious looks of strangers under the brim of a baseball cap. No one looked twice in his direction. He was invisible these days and that was just the way he liked it.

By the time he reached the VA, he was surprised to find it a little less than pristine. The windows were dirty with handprints and smudges, the window panes covered in soot. A few of the roofing panels were missing from harsh New York winters. Even some of the outer brick wall had seen some weathering.

Though, if he were honest, it wasn’t usual at all. Made some sense that the VA was left to wash and wear on its own, deteriorating in front of a busy street of onlookers, right out in plain sight. It was how Bucky felt after he’d come home from his last tour— discarded. Placed upon a pedestal, but only as long as you wear the uniform, only as long as you’re staring down the other end of a barrel. Once you’re shipped back home and cast out from desert, you’re made to fend for yourself. Pull up your bootstraps. Adjust.

Bucky wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Sam insisted this would help. The people at the VA were good, he’d said. They were like him. They’d understand.

While Bucky was suspicious, it was enough to drag him a couple blocks from his apartment. It was more than he’d done in weeks anyway. Sam would put on his makeshift shrink hat and call that a meaningful step. Bucky would call it pathetic.

He stared at the double doors, focusing on dark red rust on the metal hinges. He wondered if he put enough pressure on the latch if it would snap clean off. It looked sharp on the edges, too. Someone could easily cut themselves on it if they weren’t careful—

BEEEEEEP!

A jolt surged through Bucky’s chest enough to nearly knocked him off his feet.

Sudden flashes of a sweltering heat, the unnatural vibration of the desert under his feet. The car horn echoed into the back of his head, longer than it should have, and his ears started to ring. His vision felt tunneled and Bucky quickly stumbled his way through the double doors just to escape the blare of the horn outside.

It took a minute to adjust to the dim lighting. It was darker inside than what he was expecting. He blinked a few times, hand resting on the wall to hold his balance as he looked around, shaking himself from the memories.

Lamps were spread throughout the common room to offset the abrasive overhead lighting left untouched. Bucky started to wonder if he maybe it was on purpose, if he wasn’t the only one who had become sensitive to these things, when Sam walked into the room.

He froze.

“Holy shit!” Sam’s mouth rose up into that goddamn know-it-all smile, wide enough to show teeth and the dimples in his cheeks, and Bucky winced. Sam started to laugh as he crossed the space to where Bucky was standing. “I didn’t think you’d actually come!”

“Yeah, well,” Bucky shrugged, “I’m here. Don’t make this a big thing.”

“Who me?” Sam scoffed, feigning offense. “You know Steve’s the one who’s going to blow this up. He might throw a welcome party if you ever show up to the support group.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “That’s not happening.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Sam nodded, though he was still smiling. He looked almost... proud? It didn’t sit well in Bucky’s stomach. “Still, got you out of that cramped apartment, didn’t I? You open those curtains yet or are you still living like a vampire?”

Bucky glared at him. Sure, Sam was right... but he didn’t need to know that.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.” Sam put a hand on Bucky’s back to guide him down the hall.

He was only one of two people Bucky tolerated touching him at all and he was lucky he didn’t flinch anymore. Even an innocent touch from his own mother when she tried to hold his hand after he came back from his final tour had nearly left him in a panic attack. She’d cried as Bucky desperately tried to gather his breath, shoving her away as if she’d burned him.

Sam and Steve didn’t give him much of a choice. They didn’t handle him with kid gloves or treat him like he was about to break. Even if he was splintering at the seams, you’d never be able to tell with how Sam and Steve were around him; like old times, like nothing had changed, like they were still three kids dressed in fresh uniforms with chips on their shoulders and a whole new world ahead of them.

After a while, the small pats on the back and the nudges in his side became a small comfort; not that he’d tell them. It was a strange feeling to both be repulsed by touch and crave it. But the topic didn’t come up much these days outside of his friends anyway. No one tried to touch him and he didn’t seek it out. It was easier that way.

“The kitchen’s over here,” Sam said as he pointed into a room that had likely once been covered in white tiles and appliances, though now resembled more of a pale yellow. Two men were hunched over at the table, nursing coffee out of Styrofoam cups as a woman waited eagerly by a toaster.

“Everything in there is free rein,” Sam added. “Always stocked with food from donations, though I would make sure to check the expirations on the milk before adding it to your coffee.” He shivered at an unpleasant memory and Bucky found the edge of his mouth curl, though he suppressed it rather quickly.

The next room was mostly empty save for the wooden lined floors and chairs folded up against the wall. A sheet covered the small window peering inside that read ‘group in session when closed.’

“I know what you’re thinking,” Sam started, to which Bucky narrowed his eyes, “but I’m not going to force you into the support group, Buck. You go when you’re ready. If you ever are. Talking about this stuff, or even listening to it... it isn't for everybody. Steve will get that, too. We all find our outlets eventually. You’ll find yours, too.”

Bucky nodded, a swell of relief in his chest. He’d been forced into a mental evaluation by the army docs shortly after his discharge; something about routine testing, but he knew what they were looking for – what all those shrinks were looking for – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

The nightmares came first, soon after he’d returned to the States. It started in screams that burned deep into his throat, waking up neighbors at two in the morning, finding blood in his bed from injuries he’d caused in his sleep. Lately they’d manifested into sweat drenched in his sheets and a heart rate that couldn’t seem to even out until the sun rose.

Then came the jumpiness – the flinching at every loud noise, thinking it was a bomb or the latch of a safety. He’d broken more glasses than he cared to admit, knocking them straight of his hand at the sound of a gunshot on the television.

Then the paranoia settled in, then the hypervigilance. The anxiety in crowds and tight spaces was new, though. Add it to the list, he supposed.

Through all of it, he never let the shrink catch on. He’d put on a smile and tell them he was proud of his service, that he’d serviced his country with honor and he was thankful to return to the civilian side of things for a change.

It was bullshit.

He was pissed. He lost an arm and half his mind to a war that recruited him young and idealistic right out of high school, when he was looking for a better life than what his neighborhood could offer, to put food on the table for his ma and sister. Pissed was understated.

He wouldn’t find himself in Steve’s group; of that he was certain. You don’t talk about those things after you leave the desert. Hell, you barely acknowledge them while you’re there. It’s just how it works. It’s how you deal with it. Bucky didn’t allow himself to consider whether his method was doing him much better.

Sam walked him through the common areas, the lounge space, even a room with a pretty decent sized television and a shelf filled with DVDs. It was a nice enough place. Quiet. But so was his apartment.

“Now this is the best room in the house.” Sam opened a door on his left, the hinges squeaking under an old wooden frame as he stepped inside.

Bucky followed in closely behind and was surprised when a subtle scent of pine brushed his senses. A small candle was burning at the center of a coffee table, surrounding it were a few couches, all with mismatched fabrics, laid upon a carpet that looked to have been donated from an estate sale. The walls around him were lined with shelves, though they were completely empty. Cob webs hung in the corners and dust lined the wood.

What caught his eye was a single cart at the edge of the room. It was filled with books, all in bright colors on the binding and tags from the Brooklyn Public Library piled high on top of one another, far beyond the confines of the cart itself.

“Y/n? Where you at, kid? We got a newbie!” Sam called, nudging Bucky in the side with a playful wink he did not return.

A figure suddenly jumped from behind the couch with a book in hand covered in layers of dust and crumbs. The sudden movement forced a flinch deep in Bucky’s chest, his breath held tight in his lungs, though he kept himself firm on the surface, like stone. It took a minute before he realized how tight he’d barreled his fist and he slowly released his grip before Sam could notice.

“Been looking for this one for over a year!” you exclaimed, holding up the book for Sam to see. You brushed off the cover, restoring the original vibrant hue of the artwork. “Can’t even imagine the overdue fees I’ve racked up on this sucker...”

There was a strange lightness in your voice Bucky didn’t expect, a tenderness and a sunshine that didn’t belong amongst the dark overcast of the men and women who occupied these rooms. It certainly sat in dangerous contrast to the gravel and stone in Bucky’s voice and the clouds that usually followed in his wake.

He glanced down at his clothes as you approached; a pair of old ripped jeans from a few years ago, a faded t-shirt, and his army jacket hung over his shoulders. Dull and raggedy, ripping at the seams.

But you? Dressed in the warmest shade of a red knit sweater, a gentle glow on your cheeks, a softness about your movements, you resembled the sort of sunset at the end of a highway one would stop the car to capture on film. Inviting. Tender and ethereal. Lovely.

You stepped closer and he noticed the knees of your jeans were covered in dust, your palms too. Messy in the pursuit of happiness, like a child on a playground. You didn’t seem to mind the dust as you brushed it off your knees, holding the found book close to your chest like an extension of your own heart.

“Blame it on Lang. He's always losing stuff around here,” Sam offered as you set the book on the cart. You started to laugh and swatted Sam in the arm. A pout perched on your lips, though it didn’t seem to last long. Your laugh was infectious.

Bucky swallowed as he watched you; the way your smile wrinkled up into your eyes as if a face like yours was drawn and designed to curve at the lips and push dimples to your cheeks. It shined into the bright hues in your irises and Bucky wondered if you would keep smiling like that forever, if it were possible that he could stare into the sun and not be burned; if instead, he could find warmth in its embrace.

His heart stammered, his breath shallow, but it wasn’t unpleasant like it had been on the busy streets. It was something new, a sensation he hadn’t had since before he signed his name to a cause that took his arm and his dignity.

Y/n, Sam had called you. It was a beautiful name. He didn’t know if he could even find things beautiful again after what he’d seen overseas. You were the first, he supposed.

He must have been staring too long, because your lips were moving to words he didn’t hear, and suddenly two pairs of eyes were on him. His heart skipped, frozen in embarrassment.

“This must be your first day of school,” you teased, extending your right hand to him.

Bucky stared down at it, heart pounding, and before Sam could politely tell you that Bucky didn’t really do that sort of thing, he pulled his hand from his pocket and shook it. You had a firmer grip than he was expecting, but still soft. Your fingers were like ice and it was a nice contrast to the swelter he felt under his jacket.

Sam raised an eyebrow, surprised by Bucky's sudden willingness to take the hand of a stranger, though thankfully he didn’t say anything. A shit eating grin curved up upon his lips and that, Bucky could have done without.

“Thought it was time I checked it out,” Bucky said, his voice a little dry. You let go of his hand and Bucky found he missed the contact almost instantly.

“Dragged him here by the skin of his teeth is more like it,” Sam interjected and Bucky’s ears burned red. He shot Sam a glare, who only shrugged, unbothered by his humiliation of his friend. “Been trying to get his sorry ass through the door for a few months now.”

You nodded, though your smile never wavered. Your eyes remained on Bucky, listening to Sam, but intently studying the lines on Bucky’s face. It left him feeling exposed, but somehow, even as his own gaze trailed to the floor, he didn’t mind you watching him like that, like maybe you found worth in what you saw. He adjusted his stance, suddenly remembering the startling absence on his left.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now,” you said, brushing Sam off in his teasing. “I’ve been volunteering at this place for a little over a year. We got good people here. I’m sure you’ll fit right in...” you paused, biting on your lip.

“Bucky,” he offered because he could tell you were waiting for it. You smiled at his name and a sense of pride burned bright in his chest. God, if he could just make you smile like that again...

“Bucky’s a cool name,” you grinned, though Sam rolled his eyes. “That short for something?”

“Don’t lie to the new kid, Y/n. We all know it’s corny as hell,” Sam interrupted playfully before Bucky could get a word in. You wacked Sam on the shoulder and Bucky felt the edges of his lips curve. It felt strange, achy, like he hadn’t done that in a while. Maybe he hadn’t.

“Buchanan,” Bucky answered, though he quickly added, “but my first name’s James. James Barnes.”

“Well, James Barnes,” you started, exchanging a knowing look with Sam that made Bucky’s stomach twist in knots, “I run a book club of sorts on Sunday evenings around six. You should swing by. We’re always looking for new members.”

“Y/n works at the Brooklyn library most days,” Sam explained. “We’re lucky to have her. Never thought I’d see so many tattooed men with biceps the size of my head sitting in a circle talking ‘bout books, but Y/n works magic. Everyone loves her. Helps that her book club is pretty unconventional.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Unconventional?”

Sam started to say more, but you pouted your lips at him and he left the words on the edge of his tongue. He held up his hands in defense and took a step back, returning the smile to your face.

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, laughing so sweetly Bucky was sure his knees might give out at any second. “It’s a good time, I promise. No pressure at all.”

Bucky nodded, considering his options. The idea of seeing you again could make the walk down to the VA worth it, but he wasn’t sold on the concept of sitting in a room full of ex-combat vets probably using a shared book as a proxy for a support group. He wondered if you had them reading something about PTSD or adjusting to civilian life or a memoir of some guy embellishing his time overseas to make a quick buck.

But he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, so he asked, “what are you reading?”

You shrugged. “Depends on who you ask.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, confused.

“Just think about it,” you suggested as you unclicked the lock at the bottom of the cart. The front wheel was broken and you struggled to get an angle to move in the direction you pushed it. “I should head back to the library. It was really nice to meet you, Bucky. I’ll see you later, Sam.”

Bucky nodded, finding himself searching for something else to say, some kind of excuse to get you to stay longer, but came up empty. You smiled at him, all bright and starry eyed, and his knees felt weak again. Shit.

“Don’t let Stark talk your ear off on the way out,” Sam warned, a laugh in his voice.

“I think I know my boys around here by now, Samuel,” you teased back. Bucky couldn’t quite tell if it was a pang of jealousy in his stomach or an eagerness to be included. It was a strange rush of feelings he hadn’t tapped into in years; not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unfamiliar.

You paused by the door, turning back and capturing Bucky’s eye one last time. “Sunday at six, alright? I’ll see you there.”

He didn’t say anything, but you seemed to take his silence as confirmation. You gave him a final wave before you disappeared into the hallway. He could hear the click of the broken front wheel on your cart echoing down the hall.

Bucky and Sam followed you out of the room and hung back by the makeshift library doors.

“What did I tell you!” Sam cheered, nudging Bucky hard enough on the side to knock him off his balance. He was too fixated on watching grumpy old men and stone-faced women pass by in the hallway with smiles on their faces as they saw you.

“It’s, uh, it’s not bad.” Bucky waited until you disappeared out the front doors and onto the busy sidewalks before he turned to Sam. He was watching him with a sort of I-told-you-so look that made Bucky want to slap the dimples straight from his face. “...what?”

“Nothing, man.” Sam shrugged, though there was something lingering in the smirk he wore, like maybe he knew something Bucky didn’t.

He didn’t care for that one bit.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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idy-ll-ique · 3 years

Text

Any Doctors Here?

pairing: mob boss!steve rogers x doctor!f!reader

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

warnings: mentions of burns and hospitals

requested: nope

summary: while visiting his favorite bar, steve stumbles upon a new bartender, but there is something off about her. after a small conversation, he finds out that she is indeed overqualified for the job; she was a jobless doctor in need of money. well, it just so happens that the last doctor that worked for steve quit, there was a slot open...

author's note: hiya peeps enjoy!

masterlist

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Steve walked into the bar, looking around. All faces turned to him immediately. He smirked slightly when he saw everyone look away, squirming. Steve Rogers was a nationally recognized mobster boss. Sure, he was on the negative side but police had given up on him years ago. He roamed the streets freely now, much to the fear of people.

He wouldn't think of harming an innocent soul, but people didn't know that. He found their fear amusing so he never said anything. He walked up to the bartender, sitting in front of her. She gave him a smile. "What would it be, Mr Rogers?" she asked, turning back to the bottles kept on the shelf behind her.

Steve checked her out while she turned away. He decided that she was pretty, very much so. "Whiskey, please, darling," he told her, leaning against the counter. He also noticed that she was the only one not afraid of him. "What's your name?" he asked her as she prepared his drink.

"My name is no," she sang and he raised an eyebrow at her. Her confidence and sass surprised him. "I'm just kidding! I'm Y/N," she laughed, passing his glass to him. A second later, he laughed, too. "Y/N, pretty name. You aren't afraid of me?" he questioned curiously, downing the whiskey in one go.

"Not really. Why would I be?" she shrugged. "Don't you know who I am?" he asked her, shocked. "I literally addressed you by your name when you came in."

He had forgotten about that.

"Ah, right. Um, okay." For the first time in his life, he was stumped. He never had trouble talking to women, but something about Y/N was odd. He had to keep the conversation going. "So, uh, do you work here?" he blurted out. What if this was her cover and she really was someone else?

Would explain her nonchalance. "I love how you say something so obvious with such a sense of discovery," she smiled sassily, leaning on the counter in front of him. Her sarcasm was getting under his skin now but somehow, he liked it.

She was fierce. "No, I mean, do you work here permanently or is this a sort of part time job?" he rephrased, rolling his eyes. "Part time, you guessed right. I have an MBBS, no job," she chuckled. Ah, a doctor. The fact that she was well-educated sat right with Steve. She behaved like an intellectual. "Oh, that's nice." He ordered a few more drinks.

They continued talking but suddenly heard a scream.

Y/N and Steve turned around to see a man clutching his arm which had a burn visible on it. "Any doctors here?" his girlfriend screamed as the man groaned in pain. Y/N instantly ran towards him, grabbing a bottle of cold water along the way. She opened it and gently poured the water on his arm, which made the man sigh in relief.

"Call an ambulance right now," Y/N expertly told the girl, who nodded. She talked to someone on the phone as Y/N rolled up the sleeves of that man's hoodie. Steve watched all this with a slight smile on his face.

He was well used to having personal doctors and the last guy had just left the job. He felt like Y/N would be the perfect person for the job. She had an education anyway, how bad could it be? Also, he would pay her better than this small bar or any government job could ever. She deserved better pay.

Soon, the girl and her boyfriend were gone. Y/N walked back to the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "So, uh, sorry about that," she muttered, smiling sheepishly at Steve.

"Don't be, please. You saved that man," he swiftly reassured her, shaking his head. Y/N nodded and silence fell between the two of them. "I have to ask you something," Steve blurted out. Y/N looked at him and nodded curiously. He proposed his idea to her and needless to say, Y/N was shocked.

Agreeing to work with a famous mobster was not something she expected would happen that day. She considered for a moment. Working with Steve could be nice…

He told her he would pay her well, she was already sold. She made her decision and nodded. "I agree," she smiled and Steve's eyes lit up with happiness. "Okay, here's my address, will you be able to stop by tomorrow?" he asked, jotting down his address on a tissue. "No problem. Bye!" she waved as he walked out of the bar. Y/N squealed, looking down the tissue paper.

Steve smiled as he walked back home. As he walked home, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. Y/N. Beautiful, sassy, helpful, caring, fierce, intelligent… She was a package deal. A good one, of course. Was he getting a crush on the pretty bartender? He sighed and smiled again as he realized… he was.

Y/N's shift ended 2 hours later. She shrugged on her coat and walked outside, breathing in the outside air. As she walked home, she, too, couldn't stop thinking about the one and only, Steve Rogers.

That man oozed power and dominance wherever he went. He was a wealthy man, considering he dealt with black markets all the time. Not to mention his handsomeness. Y/N knew women who were head over heels for Steve. She used to think they shouldn't be, until she met him tonight.

Steve had been nothing but polite with her. He cracked good jokes and was really not the man Y/N expected him to be. Now that she knew that side of his, she finally acknowledged her crush on him.

Sure, she had a crush on him like the other women. But she kept it hidden given his position and job. A mobster boss? She could do so much better and safer. Y/N sighed as she reached home.

Oh, what will her feelings evolve into?

---

Y/N stood outside Steve's extravagant mansion, reconsidering her decision. She was dressed in a simple, flowy white sundress. She took in a deep breath and walked through the gates. The walk from the gates to the door of the mansion was long, but Y/N appreciated it since it gave her time to look at his pretty garden.

As soon as she walked up the stairs to the door, it opened. Steve stood there, dressed handsomely in a black suit. Steve, when he saw her, nearly choked on his own spit.

The dress she wore was damn close to being mistaken as a wedding dress. Honestly, Y/N looked like a bride to him. His bride, he thought to himself. Stop it, you met her yesterday! Similar thoughts were running through Y/N's head.

"Y/N! So glad you came." Steve smiled broadly to hide his inappropriate thoughts. "Hi Mr Rogers," she waved, letting him wrap his arms around her as he hugged her. "Steve, please." He kept his arm around her as they walked inside, towards her infirmary. Y/N noticed that there were guards outside every room they passed.

Steve, meanwhile, noticed how all the guards were smirking cheekily at him. He went a bit red and glared at them. The two lovebirds finally reached the infirmary of the mansion. Y/N gasped in awe as Steve opened the door to the beautiful room. "This will be your office," he told her proudly and she gave him a broad smile.

"I will love working here!" she squealed, jumping into his arms. Caught off guard, Steve stumbled backwards but hugged her back. After looking around the room, they walked outside. Steve led her up the stairs, where the bedrooms were.

She would be staying there, that would ensure her availability 24/7. It wasn't really a big deal for Steve, the mansion was super big and cozy. Y/N was confused, though. What could be upstairs? To her surprise, Steve showed her to a bedroom. "Um, this bedroom is nice, I guess. But why are you showing me this?"

"You'll be living here," Steve said, shrugging. Y/N's eyes widened. "And who decided that?" she scoffed. "I thought you knew," Steve narrowed his eyes, confused. "I knew that I'd be staying at your place? How?" she yelled. Didn't she wanna stay there? "Because you're working for me!" he yelled back.

His temper snapped. "You don't own me, Rogers, I'm only working for you. You can't tell me where I'm supposed to live and where not," she spat bitterly. Steve glared at her use of his last name. "How else do you think I'm going to ensure you are available everyday?" he shouted, crossing his arms. Both of them held glares on their faces.

Suddenly, Y/N sighed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled and Steve's glare softened. "Don't apologize. I should've told you before," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Do you still want me around?" she asked tiredly, looking at him.

He nodded readily, of course he did. For his sake as well. "Good. When do I move in?" she chuckled. "Any time you want," he told her, smiling. He gave her a tour of the mansion and she left.

---

6 months passed since Y/N agreed to work with Steve. And what fun those months were... Y/N loved living with the mobster boss. He brought patients nearly everyday, though. In her free time, Y/N roamed around the mansion, cooked or went to the garden to enjoy the view.

She loved the garden especially, it was filled with beautiful flowers and there was a swing, too. She and Steve did not hang out much, he was always busy some way or another. Today, that wasn't the case. Y/N had fallen for the man, indefinitely. They found out more about each other when they started living together.

She found out that he was actually a sweetheart under that hardcore facade and Steve found out that he missed being in a steady relationship. He had had girlfriends before but only for nights, or weeks, at length. Never more than that. Now that Y/N was in his life, he wanted nothing more than to be hers. They had lived together for 6 months now and Steve was sure he loved her.

He couldn't find the courage to confess. What if she didn't like him back, thought he was weird and quit working for him? What if she stopped living with him? She loved the mansion, all her needs were met here. Would she give that up just because he confessed? He couldn't risk it. Y/N was worried about the same things but from different perspectives.

What if he fired her, made her pack her bags and leave? She didn't want to go.

Y/N sighed as she lay down on the soft grass of the garden, reading a book. Steve was right next to her, picking the petals off a flower. She noticed him and laughed. "What are you doing?" Y/N asked him, smirking. "She loves me, she loves me not," he smirked back, now used to her sass. "About whom?" Y/N snorted, sitting up.

She was a bit disheartened. "This really great woman I know. She's really beautiful, you know? She's also super intelligent, by the way. And she's caring, kind, helpful… I love her." Y/N's heart shattered at his words. He loved this woman. Meaning, her feelings were useless.

"She sounds lovely," Y/N choked out, looking at her book. "She is. But I don't know if she likes me back. We've only known each other for 6 months, I met her at a bar. There are a lot of disastrous things that could happen if I confessed," Steve sighed, smiling at her. Something struck inside Y/N's head.

He was talking about her!

"Like what?" she asked, now smiling at him. "Oh, I don't know… she wouldn't like me back, move out, stop working for me, agree to never see me again… I don't want that to happen," he chuckled, looking at Y/N. She shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm pretty sure none of it would happen. She would definitely say she loves you back," Y/N whispered. Steve hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. "Do you really?" he asked softly. "I do, Steve, what's there not to like about you?" she chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"The fact that I'm a mobster?" he chuckled into her shoulder, pulling her on his lap. "I don't care about that. You're so much more than that. You're a good man, you treat innocent people nicely… you're a sweetheart when you want to be," she giggled, kissing the top of his head.

Steve pulled away and brought her face closer to his, pressing their lips together. He had waited so long for this to happen. Y/N kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I love you," Steve breathed out, smiling up at his woman. "I love you, too," Y/N grinned. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden together.

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

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