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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years

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Horse info 101

A horse girl’s guide to the basics for fic writing with an important and lively horse involved:

This got kinda long I’m kinda sorry but not at all lol

There's three basic gaits (speeds with different patterns of hoof-fall/leg movements

Walking is the slowest and is a four beat gait, meaning each foot hits the ground at a different time. Usually the same pace as a walking human when the horse is calm. Some breeds can walk HELLA fast though. Most horses will fill the same spot/hole where their front hoof was with their back hoof on the same side. If they overstep they clip their fetlock (joint lookin bit above the hoof) or pastern (bit between the hoof and fetlock) and can injure themselves.

Now trotting. The middle gait, a person can jog next to a trot at a comfortable pace but if you push them a little horses can trot faster than your average HS track endurance athlete. Once again some breeds can trot HELLA fast. This is a two beat gait in that two diagonally opposite legs are moving in unison. In some english saddles (I’ll get into that later if we have class time) it’s easier to post while the horse is trotting rather than sit for the gait. That just means you stand up in the irons (stirrups on an english saddle, we’ll also cover that later) at the same time that one of the front legs moves forward.

Also, see how the trotting horse’s head looks? That’s how they travel when they’re relaxed and attentive. The tucked head thing you see Roach doing is because there’s tension on the reigns and Henry learned to ride for an english seat not a western pleasure seat (might get into those but they’re really not important)

Time for the Canter/Lope. This is a three beat gait so that means two legs are moving in unison and the other two are not. Horses canter/lope fast. This is the go-time gait. Some performance/dressage horses are trained to canter extremely slow but if we’re talking transportation trained horses they’re not gonna be that kind of slow. Your average human is not gonna be able to keep up with this for long if at all. This varies in speed too. There's a rather casual canter seen in the gif directly below, then below that is the balls to the wall canter/lope that most horse people just refer to as a run. That’s as fast as they can go.

Basic tack names

Halter + Lead/Lead Rope - these can be made of rope, leather, nylon (more modern) but the halter is generally used for leading and tying.

Bridle - this is the one that you use while you ride, it holds the bit in their mouth. There’s millions of different types of bridles but they’re usually made out of leather even now. sometimes you get rope/nylon ones but I don’t trust them.

Reins - connect to the bit and you use them to steer and control speed. Horses trained in western or one handed riding will ‘neck rein’ which means if you move your hand to the right and the left rein brushes their neck they will move to the right.

Bit - the metal piece in the horses mouth. most english riding bits are broken (joint in the middle) and most western ones are solid. there’s a gap behind the horse’s front teeth and that’s where the metal sits. Some horses have smaller mouths than others and do better with solid bits because the ‘broken’ ones will hit the top of their mouth and hurt. There’s also things called ‘shanks’ on some bits which are just longer pieces of metal that attach to the sides of the pieces in their mouth and point downward. This gives the rider more leverage and makes any tug on the reins stronger. (google “Horse bit shank” if this doesn’t make sense)

Saddle - you sit in it. simple right? wrong. There’s two main types of saddles, Western - with the horn like you see in the running gif, and English- the loping gif without the horn. The saddles used in the Witcher look like the pre-english saddle versions but the basic parts you need to know are the same. The part where you ass goes? that’s the seat. the part right in front of your crotch? That’s the pomel. that’s your ‘oh shit handle’ if anything goes screwy (other than the mane). The part that sticks up and keeps your ass in place? That’s the cantle. I like western saddles SO MUCH MORE but i also grew up mainly riding western so im biased.

Stirrups/Irons - stirrups and irons are where your feet go. In western saddles they’re called stirrups and they’ve got wider decorative leather flaps (called fenders, also originally added to protect trousers/legs from the horse sweat and the buckles of the cinch) and on english saddles they’re called irons because they are usually made of iron and rather slim. Geralt’s irons look pretty similar to modern ones, slim leather straps, minimal iron (or steel or any other strong metal really). Traditional english riders have knee high boots like you see in regency costumes which removes the need for the fenders like on western saddles.

Cinch/girth - this is what keeps the saddles on. You take a strap and attach it to one side of the saddle, run it under the belly right behind their front legs and attach it to the other side. Its usually made of a strong fabric with wool or some kind of softer lining for western riding. English riding uses a leather one most of the time though this horse girl hates them because they’re harder to cinch up. English saddles use buckles while Western saddles use another leather strap to run through the chinch/girth buckle and you either tie it off or use it like a belt.

Chest strap - this keeps the saddle from sliding backwards. It’s attached to both sides of the saddle by buckles and between the front legs its attached to the cinch/girth. this is pretty universal but not always used. Geralt uses one though.

Saddle pad - goes under the saddle to protect the baby’s back and whithers (spot where the neck meets the back and the mane ends)

Tacking up and untacking takes time. This is usually 5-10 minutes when done at a leisure pace and done right.

Basic grooming

Brush down before tacking up - you don’t want stuff chaffing the pony while you ride

brush after untacking- helps clear skin of irritants and feels nice

Shedding scraper/curry comb to get rid of shedding hair - if you want a pic of these just google them I think I’m close to the pic limit for my post.

HOOF PICK - keep the baby's feet clean and clear if rocks so they don't bruise but also so nothing get infected

Yes, plz brush their mane it gets MATTED - a hairbrush works but a wide tooth comb is best

Horses roll to itch their backs and clean off, sounds counterintuitive with the dirt but it works

Shaving a little spot for the bridle to sit is pretty modern but it's easier for everyone involved

Horse Colors- guys roach is not brown she’s a chestnut color

The only thing I have to add to this is that the “Leopard” one is called “appaloosa” in the US at least, and “Pinto” is also reffered to as “Paint” and there’s all sorts of different patterns that you can see. also i want a buckskin so bad. yes i was obsessed with Spirit as a child why do you ask?

Travel care of your babies

Horses CAN and have subsisted off roadside grasses and grazing at night BUT it's good for them to get a lil something extra ESPECIALLY if you’re keeping them in a stall at night where they can’t graze.

Hay and grains like cracked wheat, oats, barley and the like are commonly found in horse feed. Also a lil drizzle of molasses is chock full of calories and all my horses LOVE the taste.

also while we’re talking food: some horses cant keep all the juice/bits in their mouth when they eat apples (we fondly call it making applesauce) or other treats/veg. Yes it gets all over your hand, yeah its kinda gross, but there’s worse things.

Shoes. Babe's need horse shoes. Especially if they're walking over rocks and roads.

Throwing a shoe (when it comes off on accident) is painful sometimes and if left un-dealt with can affect their joints and spine. Imagine walking around in one heeled shoe and one athletic shoe all day. Ow.

On that note though, on lighter travel seasons it's nice to give their hooves a break from shoes (also cheaper)

Horse moods:

horse mood ear chart here: I cant add much tbh

If a horse is comfortable/happy/relaxed they will ‘chew’ on nothing. Just kina a little lip smack type deal. My horse’s bottom lip would hang a couple centimeters below his top one when he was relaxed and I would put my chapstick in it while I fussed with other things.

When a horse is uncomfrotable/scared/tense their lips get sealed tight. I call it ‘fish butt lips’ bc they’re watertight and NOTHING is getting in there.

Stamping hooves can be a few things. Antsy and ready to roll, nervous, deadass scared, or playful/excited.

A full whinny is communication - saying hi, warning, scared, etc.

the really soft whinny is called a nicker and its my favorite sound okay? that’s little soft communication and its usually reserved for times when they’re comfortable.

When they’re really relaxed they’ll cock one of their back legs kinda how we shift our weight to one hip.

general fun facts:

Some horses fake limp when they don’t want to work bc they are lazy and smart and realize their person will get off and check them out and maybe even give them a rest.

You do a preliminary leg injury test by running your hands slowly over their legs and checking for hot spots - inflammation caused by injury is warm

Basic horse saftey is never stand directly in front of the horse if theres a possibility of spooking, if you’re gonna walk behind them walk out of reach of their hooves or right up against that ass. If they cant get a good wind up it wont do as much damage (on that note though I rode/trained horses for 18 years and was only kicked once by a foal).

It’s kinda common sense not to walk/sidestep between your horses legs and under their belly but we do it all the time bc its a trust thing? adrenaline? its fun?

laying on your horse’s back sans saddle, and facing their butt is so nice okay, that ass is soft and cushy and perfect for a nap. I miss laying on my horses while they ate like this every damn day.

Horses can sense your moods. Not unlike the whole ‘witchers smelling you’ thing. They can feel a difference in the tension on the reins and in your posture when you’re tense or relaxed.

Some horses will take care of their riders, some are absolute shits and push the limits for funsies. Some horses will only behave for people they’re used to too. Some horses have trauma from being mistreated and will have triggers kinda like people do. We had a horse who would freak the fuck out if anyone walked around with a red had but as soon as you took it off she was the most level headed horse we had.

A good portion of horses (Who aren’t scared of children) will behave better with kiddos or novice riders because they feel they’re nervous.

If they hurt while they’re moving they usually limp but sometimes they’ll buck. It’s their defense mechanism.

Horses can’t sleep for too long laying down because their body weight will collapse their lungs. Most horses sleep standing up.

They can sit like a dog and it’s hella cute.

Stung by bees? Most horses will take off at a dead sprint bucking and hopping unless you’ve done a lot of trust work/training with them

They also run and jump and buck and rear to play.

If theres two horses in a pasture together one will chew at the other’s whithers (or anywhere else) to ask them to scratch them the same way. its very cute and they sometimes try this with people.

horses hug. I cry.

the whole deal with the rider/horse relationship is it’s a mutual trust you’re building. They let you sit on their back and do weird shit and you trust them not to throw you.

Thank you for coming to class today! If there’s any questions feel free to message me! I’m not kidding I wanna answer your questions and I miss my horses so this is fun for me.

@elliestormfound here it is boo! lol

#the witcher #fan fic #writing tools #horse girl geralt #horse girl solidarity #this got out of hand but what can i say

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 4 years

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You Were His Mission

Summary- Winter Soldier takes you.

Warnings- Non con, this is brutal and dark. Descriptive. DO NOT READ AT ALL IF THIS BOTHERS YOU. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Word Count- 1.7k

a/n- just because I delved into this story line does not mean I agree with it in any way, shape or form. It is merely writing and something ive wanted to see where I could take it. Remember its you as a reader to read the material you want.

He watched you, you so completely unaware and innocent in your day to day actions, if he had a heart, well it might have been cute and scary for him, just how reckless you were. Didnt SHIELD ingrain some common sense in your fucking brains? You just left the for the night, and instead of going straight home, no you went to do something so mundane as buying groceries. And this my dear is where it all goes to shit for you. He came for you, blackness seeping from a shadow without sound, the silver in his hand flashing in your vision before your air was cut off, scrambling your hands against the metal, and with a vibrating click of plates shifting, his strength forced you to your knees, and the last thing your swarming vision saw was empty eyes staring you down between whisps of brown hair, the bottom half all wrong? A mask? You couldnt process as your eyes rolled back and blackness took over.

Where to take you was not the issue, Hydra had provided the Winter Soldier with bases scattered across continents, and ingrained in his mind was every fucking last one of them. So you went to the nearest one, cause it wouldnt be long till SHIELD notices there little asset was missing. And would remain missing. Honey you were a mission, and he didnt leave them unfinished. Seeing you lay there all crumbled, full lips parted and the softness of your skin on your neck already showing yellowing bruises from his fingertips. Made his cock twitch, and people like him had broken souls filled with demons. You were fair game.

You groaned as you woke up, his lips turning to a smirk hearing such a pretty sound, and your hands came up to rub your face, trying to recall what had happened. Where you were. Your thoughts didnt even have a chance to catch up when heavy boots snapped against the concrete, and a glance up showed the owner. Whirring noise followed his arm shooting out to grab your hair, yelping as he hauled you to a stand, his other hand he wrapped around your throat to pin you against the wall, your eyes wide in terror at what stared back at you, struggling to break free, but his hand tightened, making you wheeze. A warning to you.

“Please, why are you doing this? Im just a tech.”

A lie, but he already knew that. He knew everything about you worth knowing and plenty of shit that wasnt. No the Winter Soldier wasnt going to waste his time with words on you, Hydra made you his mission, His arm pulled away from your hair, some of it getting caught in the metal plates, ripping free from your scalp. A hiss escapes when that happens, and his eyes narrow at the sound, you swore you could see the corners of his eyes crinkle upwards, as if he was smiling behind that mask. Reaching to his hip, he jerks out a blade, you cant even wrap your mind over what kind it is, its just all metal melding with his hand, sharp edged, and it was coming closer to your face, the tip dragging down just slightly from your eye and down along your cheek, the path caused shivers of anxious fear to riddle down your spine, gasping out in panic.You could feel warmth race down the line the tip had gone, and fall away. You dont know if its a tear or blood at this point.

“What the fuck do you want?” You try again, but theres no answer from him. He seems to be feeding off your fear though, another tightening of his hand against your throat, and spots sprinkled your vision again. With a quick snap, he twisted the blade sideways away from being a danger to you and jerked your pants down, his hand, cold and hard, the metal of his fingers dug into your inner thigh, dragging them apart. “No! Fuck no, please dont” You wheeze out best you can, but that doesnt stall him.

No, he wanted to hear those groans and moans again, the cool metal touching your pussy, and the contrast to it made you squirm, your hands thumping futilly against his chest, your leg kicking out to as far as possible with them being twisted in your pants. Again your struggles just seem to amuse the Winter Soldier. The first dip between your folds had you trying to clench your thighs together, to stall him, but his thigh, hard as the rest of him wedged between them to block you. Pressure of a swirl on your clit followed to your entrance and stretch you with the force of two fingers, you shouldnt be turned on, you shouldnt ache for that thrusting pump, but he knew to curl his fingers inside you and brush that spot, and it just set you off, a gasp, whimpering in fear gasp broke, and he loosened his hold just enough for you to draw in a actual breath.

And he continued, the metal actually warming from touching you, bringing forth the most humiliating cries of pleasure till you were a mess, sagging against the wall, trying to catch your breath with deep pants heaving your chest, but it still burned. Relentless, he didnt give you time to rest before he started fingering you again. You were not a person to him, but a toy. All for his amusement. The front of his pants tented from watching you fight against your orgasms, and the click of his arm shifted as he released his hold, the knife coming up across your throat, daring you to move. Your legs shook, but they somehow still held you to stand.

Your eyes dart to the blade, or the hand holding the blade as he saw you take notice, now it really was pressed against your neck, any other bit of pressure and the skin would split. Your pants are now being yanked the rest of the way off, and his belt comes undone, not to be missed also was the zipper, and he slid them down enough his cock was free of the confines, angry throbbing mess, the head swelled with pre cum, and your legs tightened against the thigh he had wedged there, trying, oh trying so hard to escape. That just made his cock twitch once more feeling your struggle.

You try one last time, your hands trying to push him away “You dont have to do this.... “ But you know really its not gonna help. In the time hes had you, hes not given you an ounce of dignity. You were merely his mission.

Its now or never, and you push your entire weight into his chest and the knife jerks enough to nick you. With a snarl he whips you to slam your chest into the wall, knocking you into a daze. A jerk of your hips pushes your ass out into his groin, where you can feel his cock pushing to be inside of you. Now everything is different, you cant see him, his other hand is pressed against your scalp, holding your face harshly into the concrete wall. But you know hes coming for you, setting you up just for him.

He thrusts in you with his own groan of relief, the way your pussy clenches around him, and just needs him as much as your fighting all of this every step of the way, a breathy sigh escapes you as well, he had built you up through your fear and anxiety for your damn life, and now your pussy flexed around him, squezzing. Within seconds he was thrusting himself in and out, jerkin you back and forth, the drag through your channel burning you with the power behind his hips, There was no gentleness as in a lover, this was a dominating fuck, you were his to do whatever he pleased.

The blade slid along your jawline, and between your face and the wall, the tip pressing against your cheek to make you look over your shoulder. You were his, even in this position you would look at him, his hold on your scalp releasing so your head had free movement, You twisted as much as you could, and he dragged you off the wall, your pussy full of his cock and jerked you up and down without the wall crushing you this time, but instead you fell back against his chest, a twist of his hand ripped the mask off his face, and his teeth sunk into your shoulder, breaking skin and ignoring your panicked scream at the pain. It drove him faster, harder, more demanding. Hitting you inside, till your pain melded into pleasure and you orgasm around around his cock.

“I cant... not again” you pant, even though hes still driving himself into you. It just speeds him up, his fingers twisting a nipple pushing through the layers of your shirt, His metal hand moving to cup and squeeze your breast, twisting enough to make you drag air from your lungs, you were his fucking mission, you no longer had any kind of choice. His tongue lavished up your neck, biting behind your ear, and that dragged a whimper from you. The Winter Soldier fucking owned you.

He continued, raw and sore you became, but over and over he would bring you to that screaming pleasured moments, his breathing ragged against your neck at the snap of his hips bruised your softer form, his hands a mix of pleasure and pain on your body, and now there were little knicks crisscrossing across your hips where the knife would jerk in his hand whenever he slammed into you. Then that last one he finally came, the rhythm of his thrusts staggering and that final slam filled you with his cum, and his release shuddered him behind him, the first real sound coming from him.

“FUCK” and his hold released you to crumble at his feet, your body quaking, raw, bruised, done. The knife, he swung it in his hand a moment, looking down at you momentarily, but it never made that final descent, it slid back into its holster, and he tucked himself away. Leaving you for now in that room, locked away. You were his mission, Hydra sent him for you.

They never did specify he had to kill you. Just to get you.

#winter soilder #non con #dark!marvel #winter soldier x y/n #dark #trauma

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shadedrose01 · 3 years

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maybe where harley burns himself out in the lab and when Peter manages to get him to leave he passes out pls?

This isn't exactly what you asked for? But its close, sorry about that! Also sorry this is so late!! I hope you can still enjoy, anon!! 💗

Tw/cw for: burns, getting cut and passing out. Stay safe everyone!!

"Shit!" He curses, as he rips his finger away from the wires and shakes it, trying to ignore the way it burns as the electricity runs through his joints. Once the pain settles, slightly, he pushes it into his mouth, glaring down at the conglomeration of metal and wires sat in front of him innocently on the table, sighing when it doesn't disintegrate or melt before his eyes. Oh well, it was worth the shot.

He's been working on this suit, a new suit built for him as a Just in Case (in case Peter or Tony or somebody needs him on the field at some point, as a last resort), for what feels like years now, struggling with getting it exactly how he wants it to be, and he's frustrated, because hes been working extra hard on it lately. He wants it to be done soon, because the sooner its done, the sooner it can be there, the sooner Peter can be safer.

He sighs again, plopping down into the chair beside the table before leaning his elbows onto it, putting his face into his hands for a moment, giving him only a moment to close his eyes, to rest.

He's so tired.

He pushes his head back up suddenly, and shakes himself out of the haze he found himself in, standing back up and tilting the light at a deeper angle, to get it exact where he needs it to be. He needs to focus. He needs to get this done.

He focuses back in, ignoring the faint fuzziness at the edges of his eyes, reworking the wires with only a bit more difficulty before starting on sanding the metal pieces, making them just right. He tilts his head once thats done, biting on his bottom lip. There's something off, he thinks its too long, so he goes to grab the electric saw, without much thought, without even a glance.

It should've been unsurprising, the way he reaches directly for the blade and slices his finger open immediately, but Harley still jumps, still swears loudly, continuously, again, quickly grabbing a napkin sat beside him and pushing it onto the cut, hissing as pain shoots through his bones.

And of course, just at that moment, does another voice chip in, of a man who should be asleep but somehow, right now, is awake. "Baby? Harls, it's two in the morning, what're you doin' up?"

If that wasn't bad enough, there's something else you should know about one Harley Keener. The man can handle horror movies, can handle jump scares and needles and the ocean like a champ. But when he sees blood? When he sees the drops of red crimson, escaping from his finger, he can feel his legs go weak, wobbling like jelly, can feel his head start to spin. His stomach start to lurch.

He can hear Peter speak up again, but the words sound muffled from the ringing in his ears, and before he knows it, the room is spinning and he's falling to the floor, and he's blinking-

And then he's in a bed. Staring up at a sleek white ceiling, with a wooden fan circling slowly in an almost soothing rhythm, the noise adding a faint hum into the room. He groans, throwing an arm over his eyes and wincing as his finger hits the pillow, because he recognizes that fan.

"Hey, you're awake!" He lowers the arm just enough to peek up at Peter in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame with his hip, holding two glasses with a softer smile on his eyes, even as his eyes sparkle. He walks further into the room, placing the glances onto the table before sitting on the sheets besides his legs, placing a hand onto his knee and squeezing once. "Sorry, I was just grabbing some water. How are you feeling?"

His eyes, looking golden in the moonlight cascading through the linen blinds, pierce through his guard as easily as they did the first day they met, the first night they spent together, the first day they kissed, their first date. The way he knows they will on their wedding day, as he glances down at the ring shimmering on his ring finger as Peter squeezes his knee again. "'M alright. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" His eyebrows raises. "For passing out?" At Harleys nod, Peter scoffs into faint laughter, glancing away. "I mean, after the first few seconds of "oh god he passed out what happened?" And I found the cut on your finger, I wasn't too concerned about that. That is not what you should apologize for." Harley winces again, but this time its not at the pain, or the way his finger is throbbing against the bandages Peter must've put there after dragging him to bed. No, this time its at the heated glare Peter sends his way, the annoyance only a cover for the sheer amount of concern swirling in his irises. His hand runs up and down his leg, then, and Harley tries to ignore the way it sends shivers down his spine. "Why were you up, baby?"

His voice is much softer than his look, and Harley sags as he sighs, dropping his arm completely from his face and picking at the sheets below him with a shrug. "I wanted to get the suit done. The Iron Lad suit?" Peter hums, showing he's listening, but doesn't say anything else as Harley pauses, knowing Harley has more to say, just the same as he knows Harley likes sugar in his coffee, or the same he knows the way he likes to stand in the sunbeams just to feel the warmth, or likes his hair to be played with. Knowing Harley, through and through. "I just-" He huffs, lightly, before glancing back up into Peter's eyes, and then, when that becomes too intense, to the wall behind him. "I keep having- dreams. Nightmares. Of you getting hurt, of you needing me and I just- I cant-"

He doesn't finish, leaning back to look up at the ceiling, again, and blink away the burning tears pooling at his rims. He hears a sigh, low and sad, before a hand comes up to cup his jaw and cheek, to lower his face back down until their eye to eye, until Peter leans forward and their noses brush, their foreheads touching, leaning against him gently. "You gotta trust me, Harley."

When Harley starts to rebuttal with an "I do-", Peter just shushes him with a kiss, leaving his breathless as he leans back again, the brunet pulling back again and laughing airily as Harley leans in subconsciously, wanting more. "I know you do, baby, but you gotta trust me." He stares deeply into him, and Harley can't help but to stare back, but to melt into the pools of honey warming his soul. "Trust that I'll try my hardest to come back, to come home to you. I can't-" Peter puffs out warm air that brushes against his lips, that Harley inhales and lets warm his insides as his heart thumps heavily in his chest. "I can't promise anything, God I wish I could, but- I'll try. I'll try my hardest to get home to you."

With the way Peter is staring into him, pleading and begging him to understand, theres no way Harley couldn't. He nods, and Peter pushes his nose against him again, rubbing it in a butterfly kiss that makes Harley scrunch his own, and chuckle as he rubs back. "Okay," He murmurs, whispers, as Peter smiles sapily back at him. "Okay."

They lean back into another kiss, this one lasting longer, lingering, soft and full of emotions they couldn't show, they couldn't speak, Peter's hands running up to the back of his neck and Harley's grabbing onto his collar, his shoulder.

After they pull away, Peter leans in fully and wraps Harley into a hug, that Harley folds into easily, pressing another kiss to Peter's collarbone. "We can-" Peter speaks back up, tone hushed and crackled in the cold winter night sky. "We can work on the suit together, on Monday? If you want."

Its a compromise, and Harley jumps at the chance, but not without a faint tease of, "Not tomorrow?" The words slightly slurred together as exhaustion starts to return, creeping up on him slowly, steadily.

Peter snorts, and pinches his side lightly, making Harley yelp. Just the reaction he wanted. "Tomorrow is a rest day." He says firmly, and Harley doesn't even think of fighting against him, just shuffling closer to the brunet with a hum.

"Monday." He agrees, voice barely a whisper as sleep slips his way into him, as his eyes slowly fall closed and his breathing starts to even.

Peter just pulls him closer, rubbing a heavy hand up and down his back. And just as he's about to give into the feeling, he feels another kiss pressed to his head, like a promise, easing the last tension from his body and allowing him to falling into an easy, calm slumber.

#parkner #parley #harley keener #peter parker #spiderlad #spiderman #harley keener/peter parker #iron lad #harley keener as iron lad #tw burns #tw cut #burn tw #cut tw #passing out #passing out tw #tw passing out

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honeyvbarnes · 4 years

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I’m Baby

Pairing: Stucky x Reader … hehehe

Warnings: 18+ Mentions of anxiety, polyamory, sexy times but no actual smut.

Summary: Love is a crazy thing.

A/N: This was supposed to be a Steve Drabble… oops. Sorry I couldn’t resist. :-) This is my first Stucky piece soooo feedback would be very much appreciated! And thank you to @mypassionsarenysins @mushyjellybeans for helping me out! Love you!

Small but violent. Petite and sassy. When you first joined the world renowned Avengers, you’re teammates described you as such. Peter would often say that you “looked like a cinnamon roll, but could actually kill someone.” It was your cute and cuddly nature that granted you the nickname Baby. Everyone on the team called you this and you loved it. Especially when it came from your captain.

Steve took a special liking to you. He wasn’t sure if it was your kind heart, or your undeniable beauty, but he knew he was in trouble every time you snuggled up next to him. At first, Steve often worried about the age difference, but you’d often remind him that he couldn’t necessarily date someone his own age even if he wanted to. The way your persona would interchange from sexy deadly assassin to cute and giggly baby, truly astonished him. Your youthfulness distracted him from the blood filled life you two lived in, he was grateful for your love. Due to your small stature and him being quite *ahem* large, he truly dwarfed you. Some days when he’d stress over reports in his office, you’d climb into his lap and lay against his chest, whispering sweet words, or hum a soft tune to ground him once more.

You loved all your teammates all the same, and as your relationship with Steve blossomed, so did your friendship with his best pal. Bucky loved you just as much, maybe even more but he’d never admit it. He often grew worrisome over his ongoing crush he had on you, but he’d remind himself just that. It’s just a crush. Everyone pretty much had a crush on you, he thought, even Natasha. You were like a breath of fresh air to the team. Sweet and adventurous, always bright with a positive attitude. Your skills leveled as being just as sly and smart like Natasha, and your knife work and marksmanship was almost as sharp as his own. You were perfect in his eyes, and he’d hope in Steve’s eyes too.

It became a habit of yours to stick by Bucky’s side while Steve was away on a mission. It was rare that neither you nor Bucky weren’t sent on the same mission with the captain, but when the time did come, you’d be a nervous wreck until he arrived back safely.

Bucky, the ever devoted friend, distracted you from your anxiety. He’d take you to all your favorite spots in the city, train with you (and let you kick his butt), and he’d watch all your favorite movies until you fell asleep in his arms.

Steve was away on a month long mission, with Sam and Wanda. Both you and Bucky spent every single day with each other, trying to busy yourselves until your teammates returned. The dynamic between you two stayed the same, and you’d gotten into somewhat of a routine. In the late night when you’d finally let sleep take over, Bucky would carry you to your room and tuck you into bed. Sleep rarely paid him a visit when Steve was away, because while you were worried about Steve, he naturally was just worried about you.

“Buck?”

He heard your soft voice with the creak of his bedroom door being opened.

“Yeah Doll? What are you doin’ up?” He asks sitting up. He looks at you standing in the dim light of the hallway and you’re wearing one of Steve’s shirts, the material ends just right above your knees, and he smiles at the little fuzzy socks you have on.

“I- I can’t sleep. Too nervous.”

Without another word being exchanged, you made your way to Bucky’s bed and climbed in. He freezes at your actions and he physically feels the shift of your friendship. This is new to him. He’s not necessarily sure what Steve would think if he knew he’s got his girl in his bed, half dressed nonetheless. A small palm on his chest brings him back from his thoughts.

“James, please tell me everything is going to be alright.” Your voice is soft, your hands pull him to lay down with you.

“Okay baby, okay.”

Bucky holds you all night long, he whispers old lullabies to you, in Russian because he knows you understand, and when your breathing matches his own, a sense of loneliness washes over him. You are not his girl, but you are giving him a glimpse of what it would be like if you were.

Steve arrives back to his room in the early morning, much before the sun has a chance to rise. The bed has clearly been slept in, but you’re no where in sight. At first his heart drops, his mind going straight to the worst case. Bucky, he thinks. Bucky would definitely know where you are. Steve gently pushes open the door of his best friends room, and he is met with an unfamiliar sight. There you are, he sighs in relief, yet something twists deep in his gut. Your sleeping form is tucked tight on top of Bucky’s bare chest, both his arms holding you to him protectively. Steve is shocked, but not at the scene before him. His shock comes from, well the lack of. His gut feeling isn’t something of negativity, yet it is heart warming, his love for both his lover and best friend doubles in size and he almost tears up. He’s never seen Bucky sleep so peacefully, and he can’t help but smile at how small and precious you look cuddled up with him. Steve knows he loves you, and he loves Bucky, but maybe its all one in the same?

Love is a crazy thing. It’s overflowing and pure, and sometimes it can be twisty and overwhelming, but love has never been monogamous for you. As your love grew for Steve, it also grew for Bucky, and you were just lucky they were on the same page.

After much persuasion and begging, mostly on your part, Bucky agreed on the arrangement. He was new to this type of relationship, and didn’t want to intrude on what you and Steve already had. He knew he loved Steve but he loved you all the same.

Love is a crazy thing, all three of you know that for sure.

“Buck? You in here?” Steve steps into the dim light of the compound gym.

He sees Bucky immediately. He’s destroying a punching bag. Each blow creating tears, and it looks like its about to fall apart at any moment. The angry whirls of his left arm fill the silent room. Bucky is fully aware of Steve’s presence, but decides to ignore him just a little longer.

“Buck, come on. What did that bag ever do to you?” Steve steps forward, not phased by the heaving man in front of him. A gentle hand on the shoulder, and Bucky flinches. He’s trying to ease the inevitable pain, but the former winter soldier takes losses a little too personally. It’s not that they lost exactly, there were just a couple of more casualties than there should have been. No one was at fault, luck was just not a factor.

“Leave me alone Steve.” Bucky grits.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?” He finally turns to Steve. Eyes rimmed red, face flush with shame, and eyes swirling with guilt. “I’m fine. I promise.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault, pal.” Steve tries, taking Bucky’s right hand in his. His knuckles are bleeding, and Steve applies pressure.

Bucky returns the gesture with a tight hold.

“I know. I- it’s just haunting. I’ve caused so much bad in this world, Steve. It feels like it’ll never stop. I close my eyes and all I see is red.” Bucky allows his walls to crumble, tears streaming steady. Pushing his face in Steve’s chest letting out sobs, as arms circle around him tightly. Steve knows theres nothing he can really say to change Bucky’s mind on how he feels, so he holds him. He lets him cry out all the pain, plants kisses on the top of his head, and whispers apologies. He feels sick that he can’t physically take this pain from him, so he does everything he can to soothe him.

“Stevie? James?”

The small voice startles them, not realizing someone had entered the gym. Bucky’s head shoots up, away from Steve as he takes you in, and Steve turns to greet you with a sorry look.

“Baby! I- I’m sorry. It’s late, you should be sleeping.” Bucky tries desperately to wipe his tears away, to compose himself in front of you.

The scene before you shatters your heart, and both men know it. It’s not that they’re here without you, but it’s the moments like these they try to hide from you. As if the darkest moments aren’t meant for Baby’s eyes. They are dead set on being your protectors, and you know Bucky tries to hide his anxiety and nightmares from you, as if it’d scare you away.

“James, come here.” your voice makes him soft, and he kneels in front of you. Arms of flesh and metal grab your waist almost frantically as he struggles to keep his panic attack at bay. You start to card your fingers through his hair, and tell him everything will be alright. Steve joins after a moment, kneels right down with Bucky.

“We’re here James, we love you.”

The pride that swells in both Steve’s and Bucky’s hearts is tangible. Mostly on missions when you show your alter ego. The team makes some joke over the comms like “Wheres Baby?”. On missions you’re focused, deadly even. The way you carry yourself is the complete opposite of your everyday persona. Baby is nowhere in site as you throw yourself into any fight. Steve had helped you with tactics, and Bucky helped you improve on hand to hand combat. Your talents truly shine through, on every mission.

“Jesus Y/N! You’re going to give us a heart attack!” Steve yells from the top story of the crumbling building you’re in. There’s an old man joke somewhere stuck at the back of your throat but you swallow it as you climb out from under the rubble.

“Oh calm down Stevie! Like you’ve never fallen down a couple of stories of a building!” You yell.

“Y/N, you scared us!” You can see Bucky already climbing down to come help you.

“Oh no guys, they’re calling me by my government name. I’m practically dead, start planning my funeral.” You tease.

“Alright, if everyone is okay down there it’s time to get out. The building is ready to blow!” You hear Sam’s voice filter through.

You know you’re in no real danger when you’re on missions with them. Your enhanced skills are just a plus when you have two Super Soldiers in love with you.

“James? Could you help me for a sec?” You’d call from the kitchen.

“What can I do for ya Baby doll?”

“I can’t reach the bowl from the top shelf, would you be a peach and get it down for me?” You ask with a sweet kiss to his chest.

Bucky looked down to you with a bright smile and a chuckle. He’s fully aware that you can very well climb the counter to reach it, but he knows you love playing baby.

‘Of course Doll, I got it.”

With a kiss to the top of your head, you turn to finish preparing dinner.

“Somethin’ smells good.” Steve’s voice filters the small room and you smile. Excited for both of your men to be home, you run and jump into Steve’s open arms.

“Welcome home Stevie! I made a real good dinner today, I found one of my mama’s old recipes!” You cover his jaw with excited kisses and you feel a hard chest at your back.

“She’s been slaving away in this kitchen all day, Steve. I’m so proud of our baby.” Bucky greets Steve with a kiss, then places a kiss to the side of your neck. The sound of your giggles fill the air and both men bask in your joy.

“Alright sweetheart, lets enjoy this amazing dinner you made.”

The three of you know that this is just temporary. A leave of absence, a vacation in your eyes. The harsh missions and bloodshed taking a toll on your lives and your health, a break was very much needed. You could’ve chosen the luxury of sandy beaches and resorts, but when asked where you wanted to spend the time off, you simply replied with “home.” The domesticity of it all warmed your heart like nothing else on this earth. Playing housewife was a dream all in its own, and you just wanted them to feel like they had a home with you. Being from a different time period agitates them on occasion, knowing they missed out on living normal lives. So you try your hardest to show them that they can still have that, they have a home.

Tony’s always the first to make some sort of Sugar Daddy joke. You think its funny and you like to tease Steve and watch his blush grow from his neck to his cheeks. Bucky on the other hand teases you, because he knows you enjoy calling him Daddy.

Both men spoil you to no end. On your days off they’ll take you shopping, bags upon bags filled with clothes, jewelry, and lingerie. It’s a dream come true really. You’ll pick out new shoes and pants for Steve, because he’s dead set on his casual dad look. Bucky will ask for your opinion on every single little thing he chooses. He’s got a very modern biker model look going for him and he owns multiple leather and jeans jackets that you absolutely adore him in.

Broad chests press both to your front and your back, leaving you breathless. Strong hands roam your body as if it’s a map, that they’ve memorized. Love is overflowing from all three bodies, conjoined with the need for one another.

Steve has always been a gentle lover. In some cases he’d get a bit forceful, usually after a stressful mission, but normally he worships you. From your head to your toes, there is not a piece of your skin left untouched by his lips. Completely addicted to the taste of you. Steve knows you’re strong, but he makes love to you as if you were made of glass. Like you’d break under him and he’d lose you if he was too rough. It’s not something you dislike, you love it actually. The way he takes care of you makes you feel wanted and truly loved. He holds you tight, whispers praise, and doesn’t stop until he knows you’ve been satisfied, at least more than three times.

Bucky is the complete opposite of Steve. Yet he is gentle with you, he’s an adventurous lover. The gleam in his eye can set you afire from across the room. He’s needy, and he’ll take you anywhere he pleases. The thrill of it excites you and his stamina is just as great as Steve’s. Bucky knows all your kinks. He knows when you’re in the mood to be spanked, choked, and downright used, and he happily obliges. He knows you’re a feisty little one, and being rough with you pleases him just as much as being gentle does. Bucky likes trying new things with you as well, and he thinks it’s hilarious when you seduce Steve into agreeing into something new, because he’ll get flustered and blush uncontrollably so.

Together they make you feel like a goddess. The contrast of the two sets your nerves on fire, hot flames run through your veins, and every time you swear it can’t get any better, but it always does.

Both men shower with you with affection, you simply drown in their love. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for you. You’re their baby after all.

Taglist: @pinnedandneedled @perpetually-tuned-out @stuckonjbbarnes @rayche776 @sebbbystaaan @the-wayward-robot @captnrogers @chloerinebarnes @valkyriesryde @captain-kelli @stateoflovinged @mushyjellybeans @bitchassbucky @an-adventureland @imma-new-soul @mypassionsarenysins @rumoured-whispers @mrwinterr @elizzysnow13

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Stucky #stucky x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fic #marvel

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moon-antics · 4 years

Text

get down!

authors note : uh.. hi? remember me? i know i’ve been absent and now i come back with something that wasn’t requested? shame! i’m truly sorry, i will get to the requests eventually but after a month of being uninspired this really sparked my imagination so yeah 😊 and the re3 remake is coming out soon so i’m hyped! and i love leon sm, theres a lack of leon x reader fics on here. anyways, please enjoy!

character / ship : leon s. kennedy x reader

prompt(s) : 5 – “care to tell me who just saved my ass..twice?”

summary : not all heroes wear capes.. this one wears a uniform

word count : 923

warnings : swearing, zombies, gore.. the usual for resident evil

Only a little bit more.. I’ll be there soon..

Those were the only thoughts running through your head as you walked down the streets of Raccoon City.. or what was left of it. Cars stood in the middle of the road, burning, and despite the rain the flames never seemed to even waver. Groaning and squelching sounds found your ears from every direction. They were everywhere. “I’ve got to get to the police station..”

It’s been a few days that you’d been roaming the city for, looking for your friends and anyone who was still alive, but to no avail. The gun you had yet to use lay heavy in your palms, it did give you a feeling of safety, and yet you were also scared to pull the trigger. Luckily, up until now you were always able to avoid any kind of direct conflict with one of these things. And you also knew the sound would only attract more unwanted company.

You stopped in your tracks when you finally saw the ‘R.P.D.’ sign in the distance. Something almost similar to a smile spread across your lips for the first time since this all started. “Finally..”

Your feet carried you towards the supposedly safe building swiftly, dodging a few zombies on the way. Panic started rising in you when you realized they were getting more, and all had noticed you. “Fuck.. okay (Y/N), you got this..”

You looked around for a second before picking up a metal bar. That would be useful. Putting the gun into your thigh holster, you resorted to bashing their heads in.. if necessary. You started walking towards the horde, holding the long piece of metal out before you. This way, you could push them out of the way quickly and hit them if necessary. Well, this probably would have worked if there weren’t so many.

One grabbed your ankle and in a rush, you kicked its head, making it lose its grip. Your breath got stuck in your throat as another one lunged at you from the side. The metal bar in your hands made contact with the side of its head, but this thing only turned his head at the impact and then turned its attention to you again. Even though the skull cracked visibly, this thing was still walking! It looked at you with the same empty eyes as it did before. The sight made a shiver run down your spine. “What the fuck!!”

Your grip on the cold piece of metal tightened when the other groans of the creatures grew closer. Fear took your body over and adrenaline spread through your veins. Fight or flee? Flee.

Dropping your bloodied weapon, you sprinted away and past as many of these creatures as you could without getting bitten. They were slow, which was very good for you, and yet you couldn’t outrun them.

A scream left your lips as one of them almost fell on top of you, its nasty hands gripping your arms in an attempt to keep you still. You struggled against its hold, placing one hand on their forehead and trying to push them away. “Get off! JUST GET OFF!”, your voice wavered with fear. You almost started sobbing right then and there, you thought this was it.

Just when your arms felt like they were going to give in, a loud shot rang through the streets and you closed your eyes, thinking you might be spared turning into one of these things by getting shot. But no. Not even a second later you felt warm liquid hitting your face and the grip this beast had on your loosened. You opened your eyes in time to see it fall to the ground, unmoving. Hopefully it would stay down for good.

“Are you okay?”, a male voice sounded not too far from you. You turned to him, seeing he just lowered his gun. “Y-yeah.. thank you so much..” He walked over to you and you took the chance to take in his appearance. He had dirty blonde hair and very, very nice features.. he couldn’t be much older than you. He wore a police uniform, so he must be able to get into the police station! Thank god..

“That was a pretty close call, are you su-“, suddenly his eyes spotted something behind you, making them widen. He rose his gun, aiming right at your face. You took a small step back, raising your hands to your face. “W-what are you-“ “Get down!”

You drop to your knees immediately at his command, shielding your head with your hands. Two loud shots echoed again, making you flinch each time. A thud behind you made you jump back, scrambling away from it. Another zombie, dead, really dead. “Oh man..”

A gloved hand appeared in front of your face followed by a chuckle. You looked up and saw him smiling down to you. “I think you owe me one..”, he said as you grabbed his hand and got up, smiling slightly. Despite the situation you were in, he made you feel a little bit better.

“So..”, you started saying, blushing when you saw the man was still holding your hand in his, “care to tell me who just saved my ass.. twice?”

His smile formed into a grin and he looked to the ground before letting your hand go. You immediately missed the warmth..

“The name’s Leon Kennedy, and you are?” “(Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/N) huh? It’s nice to meet you..”

How it was nice to meet him indeed.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #re2 #resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #resident evil 2 #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #re2 remake #raccoon city #imagine #x reader #oneshot

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graffitibible · 4 years

Note

How do you think people in the zones deal with disabilities??

it’ll really really vary imo. “disabilities” covers a huuuuuuge umbrella so i dont wanna generalize too hard. however i think as a whole theres a lot more acceptance of that kinda thing than there would be in battery city.

cw: discussion of in-universe ableism

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the zones have had war living in them for god knows how long. the analog wars were definitely fought in or around the zones in canon, and we dont know how long ago that was. and war is a pretty grisly thing. war vets from the analogs are gonna be carrying around serious injuries like missing limbs or bad hearing or chronic pain. nerve damage from burn wounds. blind from too many blitzes going off in their faces. so i think its not really out of the ordinary to see people who lived through the wars to have missing hands or needing prosthetics, etc. and since living in the zones is a pretty rough life, i dont think itd be too far out of left field to think that killjoys and zonerunners who live out there post-war might have to deal with that kinda thing too.

we do have a little basis for what the attitude for this might be in canon. canonically dr death defying (who imo is criminally underrated) is in a wheelchair and has a leg brace and a big deals never really made out of it. he mentions losing his legs in the wars in the comics and then hurting his leg in the listening party, but thats about it. no one else comments on it. while being physically fit and able-bodied might be a boon in the zones, i dont think it is a necessity the way that, say, battery city would consider it to be.

battery city’s general take on disabilities, as far as i can perceive it, has more to do with appearances. they dont really give a fuck about whether youre actually doing better and recovering and improving. they want you to function in society. they want you to look “normal” and fit into their preconceived notions of what is acceptable. hence why their medications, i think, are such a bad tactic - theyre not trying to treat anyones illnesses. theyre just trying to eliminate the symptoms that they deem to be unpleasant, uncomfortable, or not Useful to the better living machine. their priority isnt making you happy/healthy, its making you more objectively useful to their capitalist dystopian hell.

now ofc theres gonna be jerks in the zones and outliers but by and large the feeling of “community” and “accommodation” is gonna be better than what youd get in the city imo. like for example if you get your leg blown off at the knee, there are a probably few junkpunks in the zones you can find who can piece together a prosthetic out of droid parts and scrap metal. i like to think the zones have their own sign language dialect - ive touched on that before in some of my works, though i havent ever really elaborated on what that is. its not straight up ASL though, it is very much its own zone-specific variant of sign language. i imagine that it’s commonplace enough for it not to be too weird - especially among older generations of killjoys who might have had war buddies who were deaf or hard of hearing, or are themselves.

in my read on the universe i have a lot of zone-rats who are wandering around with prosthetic legs and stuff and that’s not really out of the ordinary so much. also a ton of zonerunners who gotta deal with the long-term effects of living in such an irradiated part of the world (nine-volt rocket and haywire from jet’s backstory both had to deal with the terminal repercussions of this, and this was seen as pretty much standard as far as jet was concerned). poison’s a little surprised to see prosthetics but they’ve got a more limited exposure to the zones compared to almost everyone else in the fab four except kobra. a few canon characters have prosthetics and such too, though i haven’t gotten into that just yet so i’m not gonna say which ones. yall might be able to figure that out though lol

now when we get into psychological disabilities, thats a lot more of a gray area. i suspect a lot of zone mentality settles into “just fukcin cope with it bud” cause i imagine there are a lot of anti-medication mindsets and people Paranoid about pharmacological solutions due to better living industries being What They Are. which kinda sucks tbh cause medication can be a great thing for navigating bad brain stuff and also for handling chronic/terminal conditions. thats a hard line for me to walk personally, cause i do not wanna demonize medication out of universe but i recognize that, in universe, that mentality is probably gonna be pretty common, which sucks.

so my general take on it is that the attitudes in the zones are generally more accommodating of disabilities of all kinds, but low resources might make it hard to actually find suitable accommodations. depending on the era/part of the desert that youre in, youll either see a lot of community in the zones and people who dont mind helping you out, or youll just have to....Handle it on your own or pay someone to give a shit for you (i.e., i suspect the desert was way more unified when the fabulous four were at their peak and way more fractured after the analog wars happened, and so on).

i know im probably overlooking a lot wrt diversity in disabilities here. if other people with more knowledge in this area wanna chip in, please do!!

#ask #anon #danger days #ableism mention #*spec #idk what else to tag. lmk if you want me to add anything else #id written poisons pov first so i hadnt nailed down what the zones were like yet lol #so that inconsistency is definitely there #theyre like :o!!! a CYBORG #when that really is not all that uncommon lmao

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theworldsoul · 3 years

Text

Okay so basically... lets talk.

I should've seen this coming. I should've known that after such a long period of happiness, something would give.

I went to pick up my glasses from the dinner table today, because that's where I left them. When I put them on... they wouldnt stay on. I checked and they were missing the two plastic parts that hold the glasses up and still on my nose.

I check the table for them, and I dont find them. Then I ask, like hey, did any of yall touch my glasses? Both the plastic things are missing. My dad IMMEDIATELY assumes that I took them off ON PURPOSE. For some reason. And I tell him no, i didnt touch them, all I remember is picking them up from the table and seeing the plastic bits missing.

Then I spend like an hour telling them no, I didnt break my own glasses, I FOUND them that way. And my dad is like mocking me, going "u always say 'I didnt do it!!!' Like you never do anything huh? I guess you're just perfect." And I'm like... BUT I ACTUALY DIDNT DO IT!!!!???!? and hes like "you never take responsibility for anything, blah blah, you're so fucking stupid, you act like a four year old, stop fucking crying, how dare you ask us if we know what happened, why are you trying to blame us, you obviously did it on purpose and now you're acting all surprised.." and I'm just sitting there. Taking it. Thinking to myself... wow. They automatically assumed the worst in me. And THIS SORT OF THING HAPPENS OFTEN!!! I get blamed for shit I didnt do all the fuckign time.

So I'm just. Crying. Because theres a certain amount of verbal abuse i can take and it's not very much. I'm being interrogated. And its distressing, because I cant PROVE that I didnt do it on.purpose, because i GENUINELY DONT REMEBER WHAT HAPPENED!!! so they just get to assume that i broke my own glasses.

Why would my dad jump to that conclusion so quickly? Simple answer: he literally hates me. He holds back, I know, but hes done this before and he'll do it again, hes shown and said what he REALLY THINKS and he'll say it again and do it again and again and again because his mask is slipping. I dont know what I did to make him hate me but he does. That's just how it is. I can't change that. Man, my parents behave like children.

Anwyays so I'm just very upset, in distress, crying really hard, trying not to say too much so I dont make them angrier but also always telling the truth, which is that I DIDN'T DO IT AND I DONT REMEBER ANYTHING HAPPENEING TO THE GLASSES!!

He asks me, who did it then? I say I dont know but it wasnt me. He said who then, if not you. I said I dont know. He didnt believe me!!!

I hate when I tell the truth and people dont believe it. Like... this is the truth. I have nothing more to offer you. Take what little I give, cos it's my fucking blood.

Anyways in the meantime my mom is checking, looking for the plastic bits. She finds them in my coat pocket.

I am proven innocent. At what cost? Well, now I'm shaking, curled up into a ball, crying, and in actual pain. My brain cant handle so much pain so it transfers it to physical pain. So there I am. A fucking kid. Who's been punished for somehting he didn't do. And theres the proof.

My dad fixed the glasses. Left me there on the couch, still trembling. Gave them to me in a case. Said I gotta be careful. I said thank you. Because, even if I'm upset, I gotta make sure other people dont get upset. He said sorry, but he said it in this huffy way that made it sound reluctant. Then he was like, I said sorry so stop crying.

He wanted a kiss on the cheek and I was gonna give him one because I dont want to seem like a dickhead, he DID apologize... and if you dont accept my dads apologies and move on and pretend that the word "sorry" fixes everything, he gets even more angry and i REALLY dont want to deal with him guilt ripping me over it. So I lean in for a little kiss and... I cant. I cant do it. My face crinkles up all ugly and I start crying hysterically every time I get close. I try a few times but I'm overwhelmed with a feeling of like... oh god. I felt so hurt. Like a scared little rabbit. Oh shit, I was fucking scared. I couldnt do it. It made me feel disgusted.

I said, later I'll do it.

I dont know why he thinks he can hurt me so bad and make me cry, then give some shitty apology and expect me to change my mood entirely and go back to being all happy. That's not how it works. If you hurt someone, they stay hurt. Your shitty little word, "sorry", doesnt make me feel any better and doesnt fix any of the damage.... but I have to pretend like it does because if I dont you get mad, and you say I'm mean for not accepting the apology,,,

Later on, he did come for a kiss again. I was in my room, pretending to be busy so he would ignore me but he didnt. This time, I didnt kiss him but I allowed him to kiss me. I just... I couldnt kiss him. I was holding back tears, and i knew if i tried to kiss him i would start crying all over again and make him upset or angry. So I just sorta... let him kiss me on my forehead. Then I went to the bathroom fast as I could, acting like I had to brush my teeth.

I locked the door, sank to my knees, and cried. Hard.

I just wish that I had a dad who loved me, or who knew how to love me... or who I knew loved me, a dad who knew what he was doing, so I didnt have to debate if he loved me or not in my head.

God. I feel so small. Like I literally feel like a little kid right now. Fucking hell. Looks like tonight I'll be indulging in my delusions, playing pretend.

It's sad that my parents fuck me up, but its sadder that afterwards I dont have anyone to comfort me and help heal me.... only myself and whoever I bring to life in my imagination.

Sometimes when I get overly upset, when I'm pushed to the edge like this, I begin to feel... a lot younger? Like shockingly younger. I'm not even the same dude anymore, I'm a fucking five year old all of a sudden. Which makes the situation even more scary and painful.

Just imagine like, a hurt scared little kid with no one to help him. He's tryna pick himself off the ground and hes telling himself "shhhhh... it'll be okay" that's me. That's literally me and it makes me feel so fucking BAD but its true.

I've been breaking down. Earlier in the day I had trouble on a quiz because I didn't know the definition of a word in a poem and I couldnt answer the question (does character A like character B?) And when I asked they said they couldnt tell me which was bullshit but whatever. Uhm so I got upset. Like, scarily upset. I gave up, wrote that i didnt want to do the question on the paper, guessed at half the answers, crumpled it up and threw it to the ground. Then I just... spaced out for the rest of class because I was STILL upset and fuck them.

At one point I left to go cry in the bathroom, but when i went in there, all the stalls were taken and there was a huge group of guys in there, like maybe ten people in there total, so I ran back out and was like fuck now what. Now I wait. I waited and nobody came out. I double checked and they were sitll there and I ran out again. I dashed to another bathroom down the hall hoping it was empty. I was blasting metal in my ears to try and drown out the FEELINGS, I hate feeling things. Got into a stall, slammed the door, started CRYING, sobbing, talking to myself, all of this with metal music blaring out of my headphones. I composed myself. When I went out of the stall I checked my eyeliner and it was... well, you could TELL I cried. I didnt bother with it tho, i just ran out of there.

Ugh and when I got back I kept doing the stim that usually evolves into literally hitting myself, so that was. Bad. At least this time I refrained from beating the shit outta my own left arm.

God.. I hope everyone who hurts me, everyone who ever fucking hurt me, feels GUILTY as all hell. I hope whatever being made me FEEL all these emotions so hard so strong so fast, ROTS. because nobody deserves to feel so intensely upset that they resort to the worst ways of coping. No one.

I'm just glad I didnt relapse. That's a positive.

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okiedokie-then · 3 years

Text

heh

in my bathroom there were 60 waffles with a magazine light

numbers aint the one to lead the land

(insert guitar solo)

a check on my clock

the day life with the colors (insert screams)

vocalists can get the 100%

family, congratulations to amber.

nobody told me this...

no, nono, no, red carpet all the water

ride with me, ride with me

bee no bee he does

(insert skate park noises) ow, my knee

(insert bowling ball noises) ow, my knee, again

(insert suspicous noises) ow, my knees

(insert death noises) ow, my knee

set above your soul

its a long way down, personification of cheese

its a long way down.

somebody shoot her, she has my tongue

i want a cat, i want a cat, i want a cat, skatepark man

might all look wild

but they want you here, get out, leave

social media, you dont do that alot though

people who choose to do that

uncomfortable

cout << "do you even work out bro" << endl;

i like the pine tree, in the corner,

always watching,

being very prickly

sometimes youll see a baby in the pine tree

i like the pine tree

slip right out of the door

wheels cut up the rub,

(insert guitar solo)

skate park man goes side to side

the biology doesnt make sense

dirt on the woo's

he doesnt understand the concept

why, you arent evil

university, and military

the large paper tree

oh no, now theres two of them

its undergoing mitosis

(insert screams) you know that, right?

you never did like them

but you were the self, all the way of self

it has my name on it for the two years

the speakers blasting

you were rejected and sent back home

how does it feel?

falling from heaven? must hurt right?

the chair on the table

put them down

she doesnt like them up there

(insert laugh track) the thermostat is at 69, ha

notice, he doesnt it like it ok it

sometimes, he yells

you dont like it when he yells

no excuses for being late, your dead

through thick and thin, ill be as tasty as possible

your priorities dont line up

how could you do that?

he only wanted to eat your snacks, could you reall not give up your crackers?

not again, the stickmen are fighting

7/16 of my father is apple juice, pretty neat, right?

the fire exit hates you.

really? it builds things? cool

46 chickens crossed the road with cacti all over, that was a weird hour to be alive

do you like being treated that way?

the blue cables run all over, its pretty neat really

they hated the basketball picture, i now hate them

oh the white cables are neat to

ha, agriculture, what a joke

why does he want your snacks, you ask

he might just be hungry, you also say

i just want to go back

its to hot in my room

you tried to fly, but your wings made of anti-matter instantly reacted with the surrounding air, and then you fell.

was it a long fall?

couldnt have been, you were eating burritos to be completely honest.

he's rude

the cheezits said no to him, so they were cast into a pit, they're a bit crunchy now, nice really.

the core isnt really good though, hate that thing.

the scans made it by you

"how can they not see?" you said

he got really confused after that

.9531

it kept screaching (insert screeching of a machine), and kept screeching (insert screeching of a machine), and kept screeching (insert screeching of a machine), then it died.

doesnt even connect

section B-B got shut down due to budget cuts

B-B was the rubber ducky section

sad, really, the world may never see happiness again.

"boob beep, am not evil. beep boop." said #27

jesus that ac is loud, how can people stand it?

80-85c is the recommended temperature

ignorance, motivation, the power of friendship, all ingredients to the most well made octopus, preferably with sour cream and Valentino hot sauce.

god do i love mexican food

and no, i am not #27

you seriously dont understand the sheer amount of burritos i have eaten in this past week, i no longer have any money, i did not share with my family, even if i did, they would not eaten them, they are sick of them, i have forced them to eat thousands, preferably with butter on the side, thats all i'd like for today m'am

surface temperature, man, now thats a woozie if iv e ever thought of one

violence is not an answer

violence is a question

and the answer to that question is yes.

god the flowers smell fucking amazing this fine universal collapse

did i mention i like mexican food?

my foot keeps hitting the metal

heard something burning last night, kept smelling the noise it was making aswell, turned out it was my cat eating

who knew

"think different" -a fruit

man i can not draw football players can i?

- skin

- teeth

- hair

- eyes

want human bones? contribute to society and work for them like everyone else, get out of the house, your 33 already josh.

hip hop, or hip hop editor?

ZRX9SR

covered by a thin layer of skin

for some reason i really want potato chips rn

he dropped IT

dont sign in or he'll hurt you

G U M M Y B E A R S

immediately now

c r u n c h

2004

:fire_emoji: Warm-Ups :fire_emoji:

I LET HIM BORROW MY SNACKS AND NOW THEIR RUINED WTFFFF

god my new mouse is gonna feel so good

how do i wash my hands

i did not make that noise

c h e e s e

microbes help preserve lassen college FFA field day

cucumbers will never become pickles

IMPEACH im in the peach

a duck walked up to a lemonade stand and he said to the man, runnin the stand, "hey, bum bum bum, gimme the cash"

"okay"he says,

i would kill for a burrito rn ngl

salt bone man?

"meeting the chargers future could prove fatal to all squirrels" says the man in the suit

break your limits, push your boundries, work harder than you ever have before! i know you can do it! you can eat that wheel of cheese in only 30 seconds! i know you can!

bread, artichoke, and beans. thats all you'll ever be.

im currently reading a book about cats

i like cats

#okay

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hoovii · 4 years

Text

If You Only Knew, You'd Hate Me Chapter Three

Pairing: Bucky Buchanan x OMC (Zebediah Kaskitt)

Summary: Bucky and Zebediah had a fleeting interaction years ago and Zeb has been hung up on the boy ever since. Even with his arrogant and dismissive exterior, Zeb still tries to make a connection.

Warnings: swearing, shitty parents, as per usual, bucky gets pumbled, it's bad, I guess I just hate my main characters, but wait, theres fluff, yep, hurt comfort baby

Tags: @lykenbcrn @btrmuffins @diagnosed-crazy

As always ask if you'd like to be tagged

Part One Part Two

When Bucky stepped into the kitchen his mother was in her usual place at the island. What worried him was that his father was behind her chair. Bucky knew well enough to take his seat across from his mother. His father eyed him the entire time, a look of disdain on his face that was reserved specifically for Bucky. Bucky's father was better than him in every way. Taller, stronger, more handsome, smarter, and infinitely more talented. A silence hung in between the three, the kind that pulled tighter the longer you held it until you reached a point where it would be painful no matter how it was broken.

"I can't believe you. Right now, I honestly could care less if you were found dead in a ditch. In fact, that might be an improvement to our current situation."

A glob of spit landed on Bucky's face. He didn't dare wipe it off. He felt the telltale sting of his father's slap across his face, then again on the other side of his face. His father's rings digging into his cheek and brow bone. He knew there would be blood. There was always blood when his father punished him. Especially now. Last night's fresh wounds would easily be reopened.

"Stand."

Bucky did as he was told, moving far enough away from the chair to give his father room enough to be able to circle him comfortably if he wished to. Bucky would be cleaning the floors later. They were lucky the tile was brown. A white tile would be much more difficult to clean.

"You were with that fucking zombie again."

His father accentuated each word with a blow to Bucky's face.

"They are disgusting."

A fist.

"You are disgusting."

A knee.

His father's rings stamped images onto his body. They would resurface later in the form of bruises. He grabbed Bucky's wrists, nails piercing the skin.

"I thought you learned your lesson after yesterday boy."

He threw Bucky on the ground collecting the skin of his wrists under his fingernails. He slammed his foot into Bucky's back as a preventative to stop him from getting up.

"Don't lie to me boy. If you tell me you learned your lesson I don't want to see it again."

A series of kicks fell onto his back and sides. The beating couldn't have lasted more than a couple minutes, but it felt like hours. It felt like it would never end. His mother didn't participate. She merely watched, sipping her martini and occasionally checking her watch, as if this was just a slight inconvenience to her. In all likeliness it probably was.

"Stand."

Bucky again did as he was told. Any other time he would've submitted. But he didn't want to not see this zombie anymore. He wanted that kindness. He needed that kindness.

"May I speak, sir?"

His mother and father exchanged glances before he gave a curt nod.

"I wish to explain the reason I am associating with the monster."

His mother's eyebrows raised, eyes widening.

"You mean you did not wish to create a friendship with it?"

"No ma'am. Of course not. I just have him do tasks for me. He's like a servant. That's all I'm using him for. He is a filthy zombie. I would never want to be around him otherwise. I promise."

His mother looked to her husband. Being the reasonable one out of the two he had hoped that she took to what he said. She could convince his father of anything.

"You know, dear. That isn't a terrible idea. That's very resourceful of you son."

His father laughed. A rare sound coming from him. It was deep and loud. It wasn't happy. It induced no joy, hearing it. Quite the opposite. The rumble instilled a deeper fear into Bucky.

"Why didn't you say that before we taught you your lesson, boy? Now clean up and do whatever it is you do. God knows you're never home. Just be quiet; we're going to bed."

"Yes sir."

His mother and father left the room. Bucky was able to let out his breath. The first thing he did was clean the blood away from his eyes as best as he could. He made quick work with the mop, disposing of the end and replacing it once he had cleaned the pools on the floor.

The sounds of the night filled the air. Homemade windchimes hung outside. They didn't sound good or look particularly impressive, but they were an important part of zombie culture. Art deco in general was a huge aspect of zombie culture. They turned trash into something creative and beautiful. It decorated their houses and their lawns. It was a thing of pride. The windchimes currently jingled unceremoniously. Crickets sang their songs, exchanging melodies with the frogs and the cicadas. Although there technically wasn't a curfew the Z Patrol would still chastise zombies for being out at night so Zombietown was always quiet after sundown.

Of course, on such a beautiful night it would have to be disrupted. The sound of something hitting the chair that served as a window cover rang out. Zeb turned over, covering his head with his pillow. The metal tang continued.

"What the hell." He mumbled.

He threw his blankets off and shuffled to the window, pulling the chair off its nail. In the dirt, down by his stoop stood Zebina. She beckoned him to come down. Zebina never went out after dark. She didn't even go to mashes. Zeb didn't even think she stayed up past ten o'clock. He swung his legs over the railing and hopped into the ground.

"Bina, what are you doing here?"

"The wolves, they're having a campfire. They invited us."

Zeb wrinkled his eyebrows. Zebina, most likely sensing his confusion continued.

"We hung out while you were at your cheer stuff. So are you coming or not?"

"I- yeah."

They hurried to the outside of town where they were met by a wolf named Wynter. The two seemed close, sharing inside jokes as they made their way to and through the forbidden forest. As they approached you could hear howls and laughter. A large fire raged in the center of several wolves. Zebediah didn't love fire. He wasn't scared like some zombies, but he tended to stay away from it. Zebina, on the other hand, was fascinated; she loved fire. She went immediately toward it, greeting other wolves. She was uncharacteristically social. Zebina didn't have a lot of friends; she and Zebediah had been friends since elementary and had just stayed close. She didn't have time to make friends; she had to study. Yet, she already seemed close to them.

Now alone, Zebediah looked around, spotting a semi-secluded spot away from the fire to sit. He decided he'd wake up a little bit before joining the group. Before he got the chance, a wolf came over to him. He remembered her name was Willa. She was kind of scary, but Zeb smiled at her anyway.

"Diah right?"

"Zebediah, yeah."

Zeb moved over to allow her to sit.

"Bina talks about you a lot."

"Oh God, what does she say?"

"Bucky? That asshole?"

Zeb sighed. "Zebina doesn't understand why I like Bucky so much."

"Neither do I."

Willa raised an eyebrow. She looked bewildered. People usually were. He got side eyes whenever he called to Bucky. Zeb shifted into a more comfortable position. This would be a long conversation; he could tell.

"She doesn't pay attention. Nobody does really. I don't blame them. We're all so caught up in our own lives; we don't take the time to look at what's happening with people. Nobody looks behind the brash exterior. He's either a monster or he's a cheer god."

Willa's face wrinkled into something between anger and confusion.

"He is a monster though."

"No. He's not. He's not a cheer god either. He's just a person. A person with thoughts and feelings. A person who makes choices based on things that have happened to him."

"Don't you ever just feel like all your kindness is wasted?"

"Sometimes, yeah, but everyone deserves kindness."

Willa didn't seem happy with his answer at all.

"But he treats everyone, including you, like crap."

She stood, throwing her arms in the air and pacing.

"Kind of, but also kind of not. It's an act. Next time your around, pay closer attention to his facial expressions, to how he words his sentences. Just look closer, I implore you."

Willa stopped to look at him and chuckled.

"You're so nice. Forgiving. You're just like Wyatt." She shook her head, then looked back up at him. "I don't like Bucky, but your decisions are your own. I think whatever this is will go down in flames. I do wish you the best though, you seem like a good kid."

"I'm older than you." Zeb jested.

"I'm wiser."

"Are you though?"

Two shared a grin before Zeb thanked her.

"I am quite tired and I certainly wasn't expecting this conversation tonight, so I think I'm gonna head out."

"Do you need walked back?"

Zeb shook his head before walking over to Bina, informing her of his departure. She managed a 'later loser' before resuming her conversation. The wind was comfortable compared to the humid heat the season brought. Instead of going home, he decided to head into Seabrook.

Willa wasn't wrong. Before this week, Zeb had only his speculations to go on that Bucky wasn't as bad as he seemed. It was childish of him to hope for something more with him. But he stood by his decision that everyone deserved kindness. Especially the people who didn't get it.

He wandered for a couple minutes before he saw a familiar form. It was Bucky. He looked awful. Something was wrong.

He supposed adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from passing out. He staggered through the streets. The streetlights blurring together into streaks of light. The houses and trees blurring into paint strokes. He didn't know why he didn't dress his wounds before he left. He needed to get out of the house.

Bucky ran into a solid object. Zebediah.

"We have to stop meeting like this."

Bucky needed to tell him about him helping him.

"I need to talk to you."

Zebediah looked him up and down. There was worry in his eyes, the same kind that Addison gives him.

"You need to get fixed up. Come on, we have stuff at my house."

He started to walk away.

"No, I'm fine I-"

"Bup bup bup. We are going to fix you up and then you can say whatever you needed to say."

Zebediah softly grabbed his fingers, urging him to follow him. He complied.

He didn't know why he was surprised when they walked through the gate. This was where all zombies lived. Zebediah would be no different. He had been here several times before, never really looking at the scenery, just thinking about how to impress his father. It was all trash. All of it. The house they walked in was barely put together. It was such a contrast to what he was used to. Even inside of Zebediah's room it wasn't much better. Everything in it looked as if it had been taken out of the trash. His nose wrinkled when he realized most of it probably was.

He didn't complain that the bed was uncomfortable, although it definitely was. Zebediah stood in between his legs. He had rags, tape, cotton sheets, a bowl, and a bottle of alcohol.

"It's the best I can do. We don't have any antiseptic, so I'm so sorry. This is going to hurt a lot. Tell me if you need me to stop."

Zebediah cradled the back of his head, wiping the blood from his face. He was soft. The rag dusting over his skin. His eyes fluttered closed and he was calm. Nothing could happen to him.

"Grab my arm if you need to."

Bucky didn't need to grab his arm. He wasn't a baby. Then the sting came and Bucky's eyes snapped open. He squeezed Zebediah's forearm. Hard. Zebediah looked into his eyes to make sure he was okay to continue, then covered the cuts that were still bleeding.

"I need you to take your shirt off."

Bucky started to, but he struggled. He couldn't get his arms over his head. Zebediah reached to help him, grabbing the hem of the collar.

"I can do it myself."

He didn't mean to snap. He just- He didn't need anybody's help. Zebediah removed his hands. Bucky messed with it for a couple of minutes before getting it off. Zebediah began to wipe the blood off of his abdomen. He kneeled in front of him, one hand on Bucky's lap. As he assumed, there were bruises everywhere. Little stamps imitating his father's rings. It stung again. Bucky grabbed his arm. He was certain he was hurting him. Still, he didn't complain. He simply circled to his back.

"There's nothing on your legs, is there?"

Bucky shook his head. The air was freezing when Zebediah took his hand away. He handed Bucky his shirt and left to put everything away. He did feel better, not great, obviously, but better. He wasn't covered in blood. That was good.

Bucky's eyes looked to the doorway as Zebediah entered. He sat on his bed and Bucky turned so they were facing the same way.

"Who did this to you?"

Bucky didn't answer. He knew the question would come up. He wanted to answer, but he knew what would happen if his parents ever got wind of it. To be fair he'd be dead meat if his parents knew where he was right now. Before he could decide Zebediah spoke up again.

"Were you in a fight?"

Bucky shook his head.

"Was it- Was it your parents?"

Bucky didn't say anything. He didn't nod or shake his head. He just stared at his toes, hands fiddling in his lap. It was a while before Bucky built up the courage to say anything at all.

"Please, don't tell anyone."

"But we need to help you. I can't just sit and do nothing."

"Just, please."

Zebediah's face worked, but he nodded. Neither of them spoke for some time. Bucky thought about what he said earlier, and the building curiosity forced him to ask.

"Earlier, you said we have to stop meeting like this. What did you mean? How do I know you?"

Zebediah chuckled, although Bucky couldn't think of what could be funny in this situation. Was it obvious? Was he forgetting some huge event?

"A couple years ago I was out past curfew. I heard somebody knock over a trashcan."

Bucky remembered the night he was talking about, not necessarily what he had done wrong, but certainly the punishment. Thinking back on it, Bucky should have known that the boy was a zombie. He hadn't gotten a good look at his face but he had been staring at his hands. Which were gray. And his clothes, no Seabrook citizen would go out dressed like that, even at night. Even then, he still thought about that encounter every now and then. He remembered his voice. It had lowered since then but it still had that same quality. This beautiful melodic tone that sucked you in, made you listen. How in the hell had he not recognized it?

"It's getting kind of late."

Bucky stilled at the thought of going home.

"You could stay if you like."

He let himself sink back into the bed, nodding his head gratefully.

"I don't have extra blankets or anything, but you can take the bed."

Zebediah went to leave the room and Bucky panicked. He couldn't be in here alone.

"Wait," Zebediah turned to look at him. "Could you sit by me?"

His eyes widened. Bucky shied away from his gaze, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. It was his turn to be surprised when he felt the bed dip. Zebediah sat at the head of the bed, leaning against the wall. Bucky hesitantly moved to sit next to him. They sat silently for a while before Zebediah started talking.

"You know, you're gonna be great someday. Not that you're not great now. You're gonna get out of Seabrook. Find a big house, probably like four bedrooms with a pool in the backyard. You'll get a membership to the gym down the street."

It was soothing. So soothing that Bucky couldn't help but let his eyes close and his mind shut off.

Zebediah was in the middle of his story when Bucky fell on his lap. He pet his hair. This is why he did it, why he was so ceaselessly nice. Because you never knew what someone was hiding. Aware that his position was not the best for his back he tried to shift Bucky as best as he could into a lying position. He was going to sleep on the couch, but Bucky grabbed his arm. Zeb could've pulled away if he wanted, but he didn't want to hurt Bucky in any way. He laid on the bed, careful not to bump him. He was hyper-aware of every single move he made. He didn't want to do anything that could further injure him or make him uncomfortable.

Zeb had settled into a half-sleep when he felt an arm wrap around him. He startled awake before remembering Bucky was here. This was a dream come true. Zeb managed to settle back into a comfortable dream state.

Part Four

#disney zombies #z o m b i e s #disney channel original movie #disneys zombies #disney #z-o-m-b-i-e-s #bucky buchanan #bucky zombies #if you only knew you'd hate me #buckediah #chapter three #tw: swearing #tw: abuse #tw: violence

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glasyasbutch · 4 years

Note

Time! Line! Asks! Roona: 2! Craving: 5! I make you be nice to Craving asmr!!! Ezra: 7! Gildy: 14! Tov: 8! Did I just go through your active characters page! Yes!!!! Go nuts king!!!

hee hee hoo hoo!!!!!!!!!! thank u rebekah!!!! (also thanks for the reminder to add gent and take off gildy from my active characters nnsfsdkl)

2. the timeline in which they never met who would become the most influential or important person in their life, or that person was taken from them before they were capable of forming memories.

Now this is an interesting one for roona, because they genuinely don’t have a single person in their life that i consider to be hugely influential. like, i guess at the moment you could say sepia man, for trapping her in black and white hell, or vinny, for talking her into taking that job.

but honestly, roona doesn’t form long-term attachments, and that’s not a sad thing for her! she enjoys the constant change, and she has plenty of good memories and people she considers friends, but she just doesn’t hang around any of them long enough to experience a lot of change that wouldn’t have otherwise occurred had she not been trying with that exact purpose.

so, in some ways, this timeline is pretty much identical to the one they’re in now. they float around from place to place without much regard for what they’re going to and what they’re leaving behind outside of following the trail of interest they’re currently on.

in other ways, removing any one person from their life would disrupt the timeline just as much as anyone else, because every single place she’s been and person she’s met has tweaked her path in life just a little bit. roona functions like a domino snake, falling moment to moment to moment and not able to see ahead because theres the thing thats happening right now in the way, but if you turn one domino even a little, you might miss the next one entirely and stop the trail right then, or skip to another area. so picking any random person to remove from her life very well could mean that alternate universe roona is still on the material plane, across the country from where they and vinny last were, a college of whispers bard multiclassed with rogue posing as a cleric just to get better gossip.

roona lives her life unchanged, yet utterly changed, and always random.

5. the timeline in which they continue on from the current point in their life to the best happy ending within their reach, where nothing that has happened so far is negated, but the happy things start piling up

craving’s backed herself so far into a corner that there’s no happy ending for her without some strife first. so we’ll get that out of the way.

the party finds out who her patron is. maybe judhas lets it slip, maybe she gets drunk again and spills it to val in a heart to heart about their devil cult trauma, maybe the morning lord sends manic and message and she can’t bear to lie to him when he’s sitting right next to her and asking so sincerely what she did to try and let him walk the high road.

and she cries. she cries, and she screams, and she pushes people away, and she retreats beneath her own skin and tries to hide because she knows this is her fault but she cannot admit she fucked up because she has to believe in what she’s doing if she’s going to see it through.

but someone snaps her out of it. someone gives her an exit. someone (or several someones) vow to stand by her side without judgement and get her out of this mess no matter the cost because they don’t believe that she’s as hopelessly damned as the rest of the world.

they break out of barovia first and foremost. they stab that vampire bitch right through the heart.

she gets to tell judhas to fuck the hell off, and god does it feel good.

then, she discovers the location of sirris’ true soul, that it is not in hell, and she has no reason to have her pact anymore, and she finds a way to break it, even against the queen of loopholes.

she runs into stella again, a free woman, and its been so damn long since they saw each other. they both had their trauma turned on them to manipulate them into subversion and they both are tearing that control apart from the inside. so they clean each others wounds and kiss each other’s bruises and craving finally says “i love you” because god damn it, she does, and she knows stella already knew, but her star deserves to hear it.

manic has a happy ending too, because he and craving are too close for her to have one without him. he sticks with the morninglord, i think. this god seems good for him, even if he won’t really be your typical preacher-type paladin. he probably finds love again in val. if not romance, at the very least family. at least one of her and manic gets a cat again.

craving lives her life supported, wanted, and free.

7. the timeline in which they never experience the loss that taught them something important

this is actually pretty similar to #1 that morgan gave me for him (timeline for ideal life) but i’ll give a quick thing.

the loss was cate’s death, and it taught him that the world is ultimately uncontrollable, even by the gods. at first it made him angry, that he was lied to, and he didn’t want to trust in anyone for fear that he’d be let down. he took five years to start calming down, and then it began to transfer into making him overly kind, because if all he can control in this world is himself, he wants that part to be as welcoming as possible.

so, in a world where cate doesn’t die, he never becomes disillusioned and reillusioned with the idea of devotion. he simply grows in his trust of tamara. his power increases, he becomes a staple of the temple, he lives a happy life inside its battered walls.

i would posit that he might actually be less compassionate in this timeline. not that he’s mean, he’s a very dedicated paladin of a mercy goddess. but, ultimately, he believes that mercy is a given in the world. he believes in tamara’s ability to force it to occur, and that he is simply a conduit. so he makes less effort to cultivate it himself. kindness is no longer a conscious choice that he has to make, and perhaps, that means it falls slightly more to the wayside.

ezra lives his life secure, confident, and devout.

14. the timeline in which they take a chance they didn’t in canon

i’m gonna do a real throwback here, to gildy’s first campaign that lasted ... less than 10 sessions. I think it was a total of like 6.

in our second session, we met this old man who lived in the middle of nowhere and everyone thought he was super weird because he would go out in the mornings and sweep dust off his lawn and carry it inside. gildy asked him what he was doing and he revealed that this was actually ash, floating over on the wind from a near-ish-by volcano with a connection to the fire plane. he mixed the ash in with clay to create enchanted pottery.

now, playing an elderly 3d artist, i really wanted to flirt with this other elderly 3d artist, but the dm said no because we’d never come back to this town. but, in the timeline where gildy couldve done whatever the fuck she wanted because she wasn’t constricted by a meta-plot, she would’ve tried really hard to get to know this guy!

she would’ve asked to learn some pottery, her hands still work just fine even though her knees don’t always. she’s used to shaping metal, which fights back. she’d love to learn to shape clay, which almost moves before you do. (she might have tried to do the ghost pottery scene with this dude. she knows what’s up).

there was a nice smithy in town too, made all kinds of weapons and armor. she would’ve taken up apprenticeship with them and hopefully become one of their artisans. and i think she would’ve had a wonderful time there! a new city, with new people, a new love of her life, all the creation she could ask for at her fingertips, a life that hasn’t grown stagnant even after 270 years. there’s also, if i remember right, a mountain nearby. she does get a little homesick from time to time, the view helps.

gildy lives her life reimagined, shared, and satisfied.

8. the timeline in which they gain everything they want, except for the thing they wanted most

i think this is actually the timeline he’s in right now!!!!!! he wants more than anything to go back home and be forgiven. i don’t think that’ll happen. even if he does reconcile with rax eventually, he’ll have been gone too long for the clan to feel like home in the same way, and i don’t think either rax or him will ever be able to forget what happened, just build a new relationship around it.

but, he has friends now, which he never thought he would. and a house. with a business under it! what!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he’s doing good for the city. he’s part of an order dedicated to righteousness and law. he’s an upstanding citizen!

and. of course. he has savra. he has the potential for unconditional love, for family, for future, everything he thought he’d get back from rax one day, but probably won’t. he’ll fall in love with her before he even knows it, (he’s already started), and when he finally realizes, he’ll feel more okay with it than he ever thought he would be, because she knows what its like to feel shame and she knows how to grow past it.

he’ll be her good man, and a good father eventually, and he won’t even need to go back home anymore (even though he’ll want to, he’ll always feel a bit of guilt that the half-dragon babies only know their human grandparents, and he’ll miss the summer festival food because you just can’t get the right spices in waterdeep even if he and savra try to cook the meals themselves, and he’ll miss the way his brother punches his arm when he laughs because savra never does that, and -). but he’ll have a home in ways he never thought a home could be, but he likes them, and he’s happy, truly, even with the shadows that still curl around the corner of his heart.

tov lives his life long, useful, and good.

#THANK YOU REBEKAH I RLY LIKED DOING THIS ONE #craving #tov #ezra #gildy #roona #asks

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straightouttaneptune · 5 years

Note

Hello lovely❤❤ I was wondering if you would write Peggy Carter x fem reader, bc I don't think theres enough fanfics for her. If you cant then ok 😚 just thought that might be cute. Have a wonderful day💓💓

My darling

Pairing: Peggy Carter x Fem!Reader

Warning: Fluff, harassment to reader, held at gunpoint?! But all in all fluff :)

Summary: Y/N runs a diner right next to the SSR, and Peggy has been coming down there for a while. The two had formed a sort of connection, but never went past being friends. What happens after an attack at her diner, you’ll have to read to know.

A/N: Of course!! Thank you so much for your request twin, I agree. Peggy deserves a lot more love than she gets ❤️ If you can’t get enough of Peggy, you can find more Peggy fics I’ve written in my masterlist!

———————————————————————

Peggy’s SSR work was harder than everyone else’s, because not only did she have to handle normal work but also a fair amount of misogynistic comments being made here and there. So she considered her time with you in your diner a break from all the men in her work life.

“How’s your day been going, Peg?” You ask nonchalantly as you pour her a cup of chamomile tea, which you knew calmed her down from the past experience. Wrinkles were created into your white apron as you leaned on the counter, facing Peggy.

“Exhausting.” She took the cup from you, taking a small sip and sighing contently. The corners of her lips curled upwards as her eyes gazed into yours, creating a non-verbal conversation.

Just when you turned your back to her to fetch some scones, the glass of the front door of the diner was smashed in forcefully. You immediately shrieked and ducked under the counter, dropping them cattle with piping hot tea.

“Argh!” You whimpered as the hot substance dripped all over your feet, but it so was not the time. You poked your head over the counter to see Peggy fighting men who were twice her size. Your eyes widened in surprise, but couldn’t just hold back while your best girl was about to be beaten to death by these unknown people!

You crawled over to where you kept your dry ice, throwing the whole box onto the closest man from where you were. The man screamed as the ice burned his neck and hand, wherever was exposed. Just as you were about to throw the cattle, a huge hand with a strong grip pulled you out from under the counter.

“Well, well. Look what we’ve got here.” The nasty man growled, his eyes raking over you like you were a piece of shark bait. You tried to fight back with all your might, swinging both your arms and legs around defensively. But it was no use.

The man cocked a gun at the side of your head, the cool metal coming in contact with your hairline. Your breath hitched and your movements stopped, as you were forced to look at Peggy directly in her face.

Her eyes were about to burst out of its sockets when she saw that you were being held at gunpoint, stopping any fight moves she was going to perform. Her hand immediately went to her gun, pulling it out and drawing it on the man and you.

“Y/N. Darling.” Her voice was soft and vulnerable, nothing like her normal powerful and steady tone.

“Give us the USB and we’ll let her go.” The nasty man’s lips curved into a smile, his hand roaming over your waist to your hips. You squirmed under his hold, attempting to stop him from going further down. You saw Peggy’s jaw clench as she narrowed her eyes at his hand.

“I can’t do that.” She said weaker than how she wanted to sound.

The man’s expression turned cold, he cocked the gun and dug the tip into your head even more. You let out a little whimper, but accepted your fate and closed your eyes.

“…Fine.” Peggy swallowed, making you shoot your eyes open.

“No!” You took a leap of faith, rolling your head forward and back, hitting your head on his nose. his finger failed to trigger the gun in time, getting you out of his grasp before the bullet could touch you.

When you saw the bullet dig into the tile walls of the diner, you sighed in relief. Your knees betrayed you and you fell onto the ground weakly. But Peggy caught you before you had a chance to hit the floor, making you fall directly into Peggy’s arms. She caught you and the both of you sat one of the not broken couches, just feeling each other’s heartbeat.

You let a few tears fall freely, you have never been in such situations, and the thought of almost dying in front of the one you love was all too much.

“Oh, darling. I thought I would lose you.” You calmed down a little when you heard Peggy say her nickname for you, the one she’s always called you ever since the first time she entered the diner.

“I love you.” You said back, but after a short moment of silence, a blush started to creep up on your face. What if she didn’t feel the same?

“I love you too, my darling.” She said warmly, making your heart flutter in delight. She placed a tender kiss to your head, then letting your head rest on her shoulder as she held you dearly in the ruined diner. But one thing wasn’t completely destroyed… A random love song you’ve never heard of kept playing from the radio.

Linger in my arms

A little longer, baby

Hold me tight…

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imtryingsomething · 5 years

Text

A Dream

A/N- I started this months ago just didn't know how to finish it. And still the ending isn't great. I didn't edit it. Please anyone send in requests!!! I've got a list of stuff I'll write for! And reblogs are always nice same with likes. Just don't copy or repost under any circumstances.

Warnings- blood, character deaths (I mean its Game of Thrones...), angst, don't know if theres anything else.

Characters- Robb Stark, Cat Stark, Jon Snow, female reader. Robb x reader.

Fog rolled throughout the courtyard smothering the light. You watch as the men disappear from view beneath the wall of grey. The hearth crackles and pops with the dancing flames. A soft creak causes you to turn, seeing Robb quietly walk in towards the bed. Worn eyes starring at nothing. Glazed over with horrific memories. He sits and begins to remove his heavy outerwear, moving over to him you place a careful hand on his tense shoulder. He doesn’t acknowledge you, only going to remove his boots before climbing into the large bed.

With a soft sigh you move back to the window bench picking up the once abandoned book. It isn’t a particularly interesting book but it keeps your mind off the sour events that happened not too long ago.

The clashing of steel against steel echoed throughout the hall. Screams of frightened women and dying soldiers flout around you. You push and struggle through the mass of hysterical servants, you need to find the Starks. More importantly you needed to find Robb. As you entered the great hall you watch a sword run through Robb and hear Lady Cats screams of agony but she is soon silenced by a dagger. Running over towards him you slide to your knees immediately putting pressure to the wound.

“Robb! Robb! Come on Robb!” You choke out through sobs, “Somebody HELP!!”

You barely remember escaping with him. A Stark man helped fend off enemies and get Robb onto a horse. You just rode as fast as you could. Holding up Robb as you whipped by trees. The taste of copper and iron and salt invades your mouth.

Nowhere is going to be safe for you, all of the Stark men would be dead. Surely the Frey men would be hunting you.

You stopped briefly that night to give the horse a break. Also to bind Robbs wounds, ripping fabric from your cotton dress you quickly clean the area before tying off around the wound. Taking some nearby moss to press into the open wounds, which helps stop the growth of bacteria.

“Robb? I need you to drink something.” Concern lacing your words, you tried not to let the fear leak through but your voice shook with each word and breath.

But you were only met with shallow breathing. Gently tilting his head back you poured a little cool water into his mouth. You continue to slowly make him drink until the pouch is empty. You go back to the stream to drink and refill the water-skin. It took quite a bit of effort for you to get Robb back onto the horse, even with it laying down.

Several weeks of carful travel passed all the while you were nursing Robb back to health. You learned how to make a rabbit snare from a passing traveler. But you had to stop in a heavily wooded area far from the beaten path because Robbs fever had gotten worse. You frequently change his bandages in the days you camped there.

Heavy rain starts during the night, you try and cover Robb up as best you could with the horse saddle and blanket along with his cloak and your outer dress. You would’ve liked to keep the fire lit but that isn’t going happen in the dreadful weather.

The wind snaps at branches. Thunder roars in the stars. Lightening claws at the black sky. No smart animal is out in the lions jaws.

You looked up towards the blinding rain, wishing it would stop. When you looked back down and out into the surrounding woods a large shadow lurked. Without taking your eyes off of the figure you grabbed Robbs long sword. It moved forward, mud squelching beneath massive feet. Robb moaned out, moving under the heap of blankets.

The monster kept moving forward. The rain pounded against your shoulders, it didn't make it easier to hold up the sword. The handle is slick with rain and sweat. Your knuckles white compared to the dark handle. Your chest heaves rapidly. Fear rushing through your body. There was no way to stop the shaking of your knees. The lightning and thunder seemed to overwhelm the world.

A crack of lightening illuminated the beast. Grey fur matted with red. Defeated eyes sunken into a massive head. The beast didn't look so frightening in the brief moment of light.

Dropping the long sword you wrap your arms around the large shadow, “Greywind.” You mumble happily into the beasts thick fur.

Greywind settles abutting Robb warming him in the cold. You lean up against to him, stroking his wet fur.

Once the sun rises you get a better look of Greywind, seeing a large partly healed gash across his shoulder and chest along with blood matting his fur. It was like Robb got stronger when Greywind is near because his fever dropped that day.

It is smooth travel from there on out, Robb slowly got healthier. It took a few more weeks of careful travel along the Kings road before they passed Winterfell and it was onwards towards Castle Black.

The fire needed attending to but there weren’t anymore logs in the room. You slipped on your thick fur boots and cloak to combat the harsh cold.

The wooden door screamed when opened. The hinges struggling to bare the weight. The metal brittle with the cold. Casting a glance over your shoulder you saw Robb curled up on the bed. The blanket underneath him.

Padding along the empty stone hallway, pulling your cloak tighter around yourself to combate the cold. A brisk wind flowed through the windows built without glass.

Making it into the open landing overlooking the courtyard, the freezing temperatures were even harsher. The thumpping of wood against wood was almost a lullaby, like the steady beat of a heart. The new recruits clumsily batted at each other with practice swords.

The kitchen was much warmer then the tower. It smells bland, not of spice covered meat cooking over a fire. But it felt warmer. Life, loud voices joking with one another. A small smile tugged at your lips. The mess hall is where you felt some pull of joy in your chest. The food for that day was a stew, with what you could guess was rabbit.

"From the back you could be mistaken for a crow. Wearing the black cloak."

"Too bad I'd make a horrible crow." Turning towards the Lord Commander.

"How are you?" Jon put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

The question took you aback. You'd been worrying about Robb so often that you hadn't thought about your own health.

"Things are better, I've gotten used to the cold. But I'm worried about what comes next. We cannot stay here forever, no matter how much I would love to."

Jon smiled softly, rubbing your shoulder and removing his hand. Grabbing two bowls he filled them before handing one to you beckoning you to follow. He sat at the end of a table, not the high table where the Lord Commander should sit. Taking a seat across from him you played with the spoon.

"I don't know what to do, Jon. I don't know how to help him. Or where to go. Theres so much happening it feels like I'm drowning."

"You don't have to figure that out on your own. There's no rush either, nobody knows you're here. You are safe."

"But for how long? I just want to go home, Jon. To see my mother and sisters."

"I understand but that would be unwise."

"I know. It's just a dream." Gripping the spoon you started to eat the tasteless rabbit stew.

Questions still needed answering. But for now all you could do was wait and eat.

#robb stark x reader #robb stark imagine #robb stark #got imagine #game of thrones #jon snow #richard madden imagine #kit harington #rob stark angst #game of thrones imagine #angst imagine #angst

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angrylizardjacket · 5 years

Text

of comfort and joy {Ben Hardy}

Anons asked: can you write Ben as a dad / imagine staying up late to wrap presents for yours and Ben’s kids (the original prompts have been lost i’m sorry, but this goes out to you guys)

A/N: 1562 words. So this is my second attempt at this. I lost both the prompts but they weren’t super complicated, and this fills both very nicely.

Ben’s so careful as he slides the door shut to the kids’ bedroom, the hour just edging past eleven. He winces at the sound of the door latching closed, and he waits for a few moments, listening for the telltale sounds of laughter or the thump of little feet, but all was quiet on the other side of the door, and he let out a sigh of relief, coming to join you where you’d surrounded yourself with gifts that needed to be wrapped at the last minute.

“They’re asleep.” His voice was soft as he rested his head on your shoulder, sitting beside you on the floor with the sofa at your back, legs kicked out in front of him and resting on a stack of assorted labels and gift tags.

“My hero; how’d you manage that?” You asked wryly, concentrating on where you’re writing ‘To Abby, From Santa’ on a soft package that contained a Harry Potter robe and wand for your eldest daughter; Ben had been reading them the series as a bedtime story for the past few weeks, and Abby, who was always in awe of her dad, was adamant that she was a Slytherin, just like him.

“Bribery.” Ben yawned, looping one of his arms through yours, tucking himself closer to you. “The boys were okay, I mean, they’re too young to really know what’s going on, but I had to tell Abs that Santa would only write her a letter if she goes to bed on time.” And you laughed softly at that, putting the finishing touches on the label before putting the present onto the pile of wrapped gifts sitting neatly beside you.

“So how many chapters did you end up reading?” You asked, letting yourself relax for the moment, leaning against him, your head resting against his. The light from the Christmas tree showered the whole room in a warm, multi-coloured light, shining off of ornaments and the screen of the TV which was muted, playing an old black and white Christmas movie.

“Only two; we got up to the Death Day party and she was out.” He sounds so fond when he says it, warm and kind, and he yawns again, letting out a low hum of contentment. He relaxes further against you.

“Honey, there’s still so much wrapping to do, you can’t fall asleep yet.” You say, gently shaking him, and he groans, before he moves to actually turn his head and look at you.

“You’ve been working so hard to get all this ready, can we just relax for a little bit?” He asked, so wide and bright you can see the lights from the tree reflect off of them.

“Just for a bit.” You could never say no to him.

He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close to him, and you rest your head on his shoulder, letting yourself relax in his arms. You turn up the volume on the TV enough to be able to hear the end of the movie, but not enough to wake the kids. The heater in the corner of the room has you feeling warm and blissful, even as you watch snow flutter down onto the town outside through the window behind the television. It’s hard to find in the holiday season, but you’re going to hold onto this moment of peace and love with everything you’ve got.

When the movie ends, Ben gently untangles himself from you, standing, stretched, and turning the TV off.

“I’m gonna make us some hot chocolate, give us a boost to wrap the last of these presents before we head to bed, okay?” He says, and you reach out, taking his hand and squeezing it in wordless thanks. When he squeezes your hand back, smiling fondly, you can feel your heart flutter like it did when you’d first started dating all those years ago.

“You’re so good to me.” You murmur over the lip of your mug, eyes falling closed as you bring the warm drink close to your chest, inhaling the aroma of chocolate that rose from it. Ben pets your knee softly, and when you open your eyes, he’s sitting across from you, legs crossed, one hand on your knee and the other holding his own mug. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, haloed by the tree, expression so full of unbridled love and affection it’s almost overwhelming.

“’cos I know how lucky I am to have you.” He says, and it’s moments like this that remind you why you married him in the first place. Gently, you take his hand and press a kiss to his knuckles.

By the light of the Christmas tree, the two of you go about wrapping presents for your friends and family. The majority, of course, are for your kids; wrapping them at the last minute was easier than worrying that they’d tear into them before Christmas, or try and sneak a peak. Abby, the oldest, almost seven and forever a daddy’s girl, loved anything Ben did, also Frozen; Micha was four and has never met a robot he didn’t want to marry, though he didn’t understand what the word meant when he announced it on a daily basis while holding hands with a transformer action figure; Roan had just turned two and liked the colour red.

“Do you think Abs is old enough for a present hunt?” Ben asks where he’s sorting stocking stuffers. Looking up, you’re confused, and he looks a little shocked, “you’ve never had a present hunt?” When you shook your head, his mouth split into a nostalgic grin. “We had them when I was a kid; you hide a series of clues around the house and the kids follow the clues to find a hidden present.” His laugh was fond, which turned to a thoughtful hum as he reminisced, “I rode my bike all around the neighbourhood one year, dad really went all out.”

“Maybe not around the neighbourhood.” You grinned, and his whole face lit up when he met your gaze. He’s up after that, so giddy he’s practically bouncing as he swans around the house with the sticky tape, writing and hiding clues as he went, ending up with Abby’s gift stashed in the back of the pots and pans cupboard next to the oven. When he comes back, he tapes one last clue to a bauble, hanging it at the back of the Christmas tree, proclaiming it to be the starting point. After that, he settles back in, filling the stockings that hung over the mantle, and helping you wrap the last of the presents.

When everything’s done, you feel the exhaustion settling into your bones, and you take a long moment to stretch. All the presents are wrapped, sitting neatly beneath the tree, and the heater’s been turned off, and all that’s left to do is put all the wrapping paper, tape, and labels that you’d commandeered for the occasion.

“You head on to bed, I’m just writing this letter for Abby.” He said, looking up from where he was leaning over a notebook, to see you waiting for him in the door. With a soft smile, you nod, and head to your bedroom, quickly getting changed into your pyjamas and sliding into bed. He follows not long after, but instead of getting changed, he sits onto the bed beside you, grinning and holding out a neatly wrapped box with your name on it.

“Merry Christmas, love.” He says gently, and you look from the box to where he’s smiling at you, nervous and excited. You’re lost for words, heart overwhelmed with love as you start to unwrap the present.

It’s a photo frame, silver, with metal vines decorating the outside, and space enough for two photos. The photo on the left is from when you first visited him on the set of X-Men Apocalypse, probably taken by a crew member. You’d never seen the photo before, but you know it’s the two of you; he’s got his arms around you, the two of you all but nose to nose and so blindingly happy. He’s in costume, wearing a leather jacket with his hair long, curled and teased, and you’re pushing a small strand behind his ear. The two of you are so wrapped up in each other, and he’s grinning at you like there’s literally nowhere in the world he’d rather be than in your arms.

The photo on the right is from your wedding day, in the same position as the other photo, his arm around you, you with a hand holding his cheek. It’s as if you’re not even aware of the photographer, blissful and elated and in love.

“This was so long ago.” Voice soft and awed, you look up from the wedding photo to see him looking at you with that exact same smile you remember so clearly from when the two photos were taken; the smile that made you feel like the only person in the world. “I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too; there’s no-one else I’d rather by my side to raise our family with.” He says, and you think you’re about to cry, so overwhelmed at the sincerity and sweetness that it’s all you can do to lean forward and kiss him.

#ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #bo rhap #borhap cast #borhap cast imagine #family fic #kid fic #the angry lizard writes

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bunny-banana · 4 years

Note

I'd love to hear a director's commentary on La leggenda di Niccolo please :D Have a star as well ⭐

HA! Okay well, I’ll talk about the sections that I actually wrote so here it comes:

Chap 1

Engulfed in the never ending masses of water, he reckoned one should feel intimidated. No ground under his feet, only limited amounts of air to his disposal, and the uncertainty of what lies within the darker corners of the ocean should normally frighten you. And yet, he never felt more at peace than when he was floating so freely in the sea, almost as if gravity and the world outside didn’t exist

the fucking IRONY of me writing this while being deadly afraid of deep water. its honestly like “yeah,,,,, lemme list all the things i personally hate about deep sea…. and lets add ‘well, but theres something good too about that for sure,,,i guess,,,, ”

But what was more important for me was this contrast to what Ermal dreams about, his lowkey fantasy - and where he is irl, the icy south pole. I’m rather fond of opposing things/contrasts.

The soldier breathed heavily in and out, but there was no time to rest as the next blaze of fire was aimed at him.He countered and evaded but his opponent was more forceful, his flames harsher, faster until the soldier’s back hit the cold railing. He was caught, and when his opponent mercilessly stroke once more, he knew he had to save himself by escaping into the cold water.The man remaining on the top deck smirked. Ah yes, he’d almost assume those new soldiers were just too easy to take on even if only for practice reasons, but it pleased him more to say that he still got it.

i really hope this introduction just tells you everything you need to know about Renga’s character.

How much sooner the war could have been won had it not been for the Poles!

While actually reflecting on the universe, i realised, it must be incredibly difficult for firebenders on the poles. like, I just assume they really, really arent fit for the cold which would make invading incredibly difficult for them. also lol, renga hates it at the poles obviously.

Shaking so hard that kids ran towards their mothers and the watchtower fell over and when the fog cleared up, Ermal felt his stomach drop. ”No.”

Nothing, absolutely, nothing in that universe is more frightening than seeing the Fire Nation military pull up to your doorstep.

Also, lmao, love to imagine Rinald quietly going “oh nooo my watchtower D:”

Ermal pushed himself through the crowd until he was right in front of everyone, until he was the last barrier between the Fire Nation soldiers and the village.

Ermal has Strong Opinions™ about the Fire Nation, with reasons of course, and seeing them here is the absolute nightmare to him.

“You mean the Avatar that disappeared off the face of the Earth? The one that nobody has ever seen and that was probably never even reborn? That Avatar?”And if his cockiness gave off a certain invitation to smash his face in, then this was perhaps a little bit Ermal’s fault.

to quote the Smiths: Bigmouth Strikes Again!

“B-but he’s- he’s so young? I swear to the Fire Lord, if this is yet another trick then-”

Chap 2

Niccolò had always been in awe of the Fire Nation’s advanced industrial sector. The machinery that originated from the Nation had always had cutting edge quality which no one in the world could quite imitate nor match. This ship however was beyond anything Niccolò had ever seen. This ship was fully steam-driven with the powerful motors roaring under his feet. And those weren’t the only novelties.Steel processed so professionally that it makes impenetrable walls and doors which opened and closed only through quite sophisticated lock mechanisms. It all looked so modern, it all looked so futuristic.

so the idea was, since Nic had missed an entire century, the ship looked super modern to him. while its a canon fact that the FN is quite advanced with machinery, the ship itself is just to an up-to-date standard. But to Niccolo personally it seemed futuristic. i like the idea of him being amazed at things he has never seen in his life just to find out they’re pretty common in the current timeline.

There was not much time left, Niccolò had to think quickly. Extremely convenient how his nose started tickling right in that moment.The powerful sneeze that followed had two consequences: One, the guard in front of him was catapulted straight into the metal door of the cell, rendering him unconscious.Two, Niccolò and the guard behind him were also forcefully pushed back to the other end of the corridor, crashing into the hard wall.Well, at least the guard did. The young airbender was spared that fate, by that nice pillow the guard turned out to be, so he quickly got onto his feet and ran as fast as he could with his hands tied behind his back.

so yeah ngl, this was just copied from the OG ep

Now that his hands were freed, he opened the first door that presented itself to him, but in front of him, he simply saw the quarters of General Renga who stared at his now roaming prisoner in shock. Okay, time to turn around, it seems.

listen, i just love the thought of overconfident General Renga being so shellshocked to see his prisoner escaping that he just gapes at him. And ofc Nic slamming the door shut immediately jsfkld

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Niccolò cursed as he evaded a burst of fire that was aimed at him before taking the next corner “Where’s the exit?! Where’s the goddamn exi- AH!! A DOOR!!” He pulled it open to reveal a startled guy sitting there just minding his own business. An unexpected sight, with an even more unexpected odor following. “Oh? uhm- Sorry man! Just- just take your time! Also, perhaps light a candle when you’re done. Bye!” The young Avatar swiftly apologised as he closed the door of what was most definitely not an exit.

Fav OC so far! That simple FN dude was just trying to take a dump in peace but who would have known that all hell would break lose and the goddamn Avatar of all people would walk into him smh. Also, I really enjoyed the thought of while this is all hectic and dangerous, Nic still being human enough to go like “oh, my bad! sorry dude!” at this random soldier. Who knows, maybe we should bring that one back some time later. And i kinda wanted the whole escape to be funny, since its Nic’s POV, and it just wouldnt suit his carefree spirit to make this super serious (yet).

“I’ll give you that, hiding for so long was sort of impressive.” Niccolò heard Renga’s voice behind him as the General had caught up with him.

almost wrote “century” there but then remembered nah omg he can’t know yet

A piece of ice may or may not have also hit Renga straight into the face but nobody would complain about that anyway.

yeah i just love the thought of this super dramatic scene of Nic entering the Avatar State and then theres a chunk of ice knocking Renga unconscious lmao get fucked, dude

“Nic!” Ermal ran towards the slowly decreasing water pillar to catch the unconscious airbender in the last second, dropping to his knees in the process. That was beyond anything anybody of that age should normally be capable of. That was beyond what any waterbender could ever be capable of. And yet, lying in his arms, Niccolò looked so exhausted, so weak. Just like any other kid. Not a trace from the sheer force that was unleashed moments earlier.

I think this was really the moment Ermal started feeling real responsibility over Niccolo. Just seeing him do all these crazy things and yet being reminded that this huge burden of being the Avatar is literally thrusted upon a simple kid. Also, this is the first time he called him “Nic”

Various noises and sounds buzzed through the air that afternoon: The loud shoveling of snow from the bow, the quieter crackling emerging from the hands of the firebenders who were melting their frozen compatriots, the fast steps rushing left and right over the ship. All these different sounds were heard, but none of them were chattering. Nobody dared to chat. Not after this disastrous defeat. What a disgrace that had been, General Renga thought grinding his teeth.

Everybody on this goddman ship is just scared shitless that Renga will roast them if they so much like whisper. they know he moody, they know he’ll blame them for the avatar’s escape. so lets all just work and repair shit and keep quite.

When he found consciousness again, he was left with not only one horrendous purple bruise on his face, but also with a half destroyed ship.

jdsfksajfklf OK SO YEAH, my first intention was “lmao let a piece of ice hit him” but then i realised “oh wait he’d have a bruise afterwards” and then “LMAOOOO he’d be like Zuko, how perfect is that” ok so granted, unlike our dear fire prince, Renga’s bruise is only temporary, but i really hoped someone would pick up the connection to Zuko

Whatever had happened to the Avatar earlier, it left a colossal mark on the ship, and secretly, on Renga personally too. He might have gotten fooled once, but he wouldn’t get fooled again.

basically, he feels personally insulted about being beaten by a kid. what a loser lmao

“Martino!”

“Y-yes, General?” stuttered the lanky assistant with the askew glasses, clenching his hands around his writing board. One would think you’d get used to Renga’s harsh tone over time, but that was simply not the case..

rip martino but renga absolutely needed a poor anxious assistant whom he could terrorise

“We need the best of the best to defeat him. And I just know the right choice for that job…”

heeeeheeee ….. no comment ..for now. but im curious to what you guys think about that

Thank you so much! this was a lot of fun to do ! :)

#ALLDN #my fics

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ceffythesquirrel · 5 years

Text

Post Apocalyptic Sander's Sides AU

Hello! This is inspired off of @sidespart amazing art of Logan and Robot!Roman. Check notes for navigation (Poor princey.) I'm sure @sidespart had a completely different idea when they were creating that art piece, so this is just my take. If they ever do anything more with that universe, just know that this is completely separate and...yeah. XD

Warnings: Lots of death mention (nothing graphic), minor character death, explosions, terrorist attacks, let me know if theres anything else!

Roman - Backstory

M29-Ro-man was created a couple years before the apocalypse by a robotics genius. The dude just took a bunch of parts from the scrap yard, cleaned them up, put him together, and programmed him to be Roman.

He was just sitting in his garage lifeless for the longest time because he was one of the few robots with emotions that existed and the creator didn't really want him stolen or known about yet. Also he was solar powered and any contact with the sun would bring him to life.

Decided to give him as a gift to a friend/Broadway star who needed a personal companion to rehearse lines with on a daily basis. Thus the robotics genius programmed Roman with everything a robot should probably not be programmed with. He had emotions, the ability to learn and gather information, and the ability to adapt through different situations and circumstances.

When the Broadway star received Roman he acted like a human with a metallic body and an off switch. He couldnt physically feel since he had no skin. The creator also mentioned to the Broadway star that he was a little too boisterous and wasnt sure how to fix it, but once meeting Roman, he didnt mind at all.

Roman instantly took to the theatre atmosphere. He was told what to do, how to help his human companion, and practice with him.

When Roman was not on duty, he was constantly watching Broadway show after Broadway show, acting them out on his own. He would always study the one his human was performing in to the T so he could help him get his lines accurate.

So they were both pretty good friends. Roman had never experienced that robots under humans rascism until way later. He experienced it when he got fitted for a prince outfit, because the Broadway star thought he'd like it, (which Roman very much did.)

Roman can also sword fight he found out. Not because he taught himself, but part of a fencing bot's mainframe was welded inside of him.

Roman believes all other robots are stupid after seeing none that act like him. He knew he was special and had a tendency to act like it.

It all changed when the first terrorist attack of WWIII happened. Of course it happened at Broadway. There was a bombing causing most of the building to collapse.

Lots of people died including his human Broadway star friend. But, Roman would never know what had happened to him. When the bomb exploded, the roof of the room he was in collapsed and debris switched Roman off rendering him useless for a couple of hours.

This is where he meets Logan.

Logan - Backstory

He was an average kid with an average family. He had no siblings and was often left to his own devices. Its not that he didn't try to make friends, its just he wasn't that good with social cues. Some say he may have been autistic, but no one knows for certain.

He has always loved robots growing up, and wanted to be someone who worked with robots. Unfortunately, the robot industry was already deep into the golden age and it was a very competitive field.

Giving up on that dream, he went with chemical engineering instead. He still had a heart for robots though, and would always watch them work whenever he could.

He was under the belief that robots should stay machines and not advance into anything else. So when he saw the world's first emotion robot he voted and protested against it with every fibre of his being.

He read the book "I am, Robot" (book about Robots taking over the world) so it makes sense why he didn't like the idea.

He graduated as valedictorian of his class and went on to become a theoretical chemist. Not what he had planned to do, but it was interesting nevertheless.

He was in a research group of 11 other scientists who were working to develop the world's first force field. It was when they succeeded that it all went to hell.

They were presenting their work at the world fair in New York when the bombing on broadway happened. It was utter chaos as other attacks ripped through the city and people ran for their lives.

Logan acted on impulse rushing people to safety while staying a safe distance with his colleagues, until an explosion split them apart.

Because one of the scientists had a feeling this was going to happen she made the other 11 make a plan b so their work wouldn't be stolen. Of the twelve, six split up the force field plans.

Logan was one of those six and was running with the three hard drives that contained all the equations for it. In his lab coat mind you, that he forgot would make him a target. So he was running from chopper fire and was able to hide behind a building and dive under rubble.

He had no idea where anyone was or if anyone was still alive since it seemed WI-Fi and internet was down all across the world. Even television was having problems.

He was shaking with fear as chaos continued to reign outside so he went further deep into the rubble to seek some sort of shelter if he could and wait out the storm.

He took a wrong step and fell a story into the exact room Roman was in.

He saw the unique looking robot, covered in debris and was more scared of it than anything. Maybe it was another trap or a bomb, but after it didnt move for awhile Logan's curiousity got the better of him and moved it out from under the pile and get a better look at it.

It was dressed like a prince, and had a sword. Some robot.

When Logan switched it on his life changed.

Hardship to Friendship

Basically the exchange went like this: Roman sprung to action with his sword. Logan shrieked and fell over from surprise. He was already scared of what was going on outside and this did not help. Roman called out Logan on his nerdy appearance and his so-called want to steal an amazing robot like him. "Over my dead body Isaac Snoopin'!" And Logan is just too terrified for any of this so he just faints.

Roman is more confused than anything, but the impact of a bomb over head tells him something is definitely wrong. His eyes widen as he remembers his human friend and is about to go find him, when the conscious he had developed told him he shouldn't leave the scientist behind no matter how much he wanted to. Especially if he was an enemy, and in sword fighting you never take your eyes off your enemy.

So he picked up Logan like a rag doll and began searching through the ruined structure for the stage.

It was a tragic scene when he got there however. No one was alive and he couldn't tell anyone apart it was that bad. Another bomb could be heard hitting the ground nearby. Roman had never felt this amount of sorrow before so he just kind of sat on the ground rocking with his knees to his chest with sadness not exactly sure how to process the emotion, since he couldn't cry.

Logan came around about an hour later and Roman was still repeatedly doing the same movements. When the prince-robot saw Logan begin to wake up he drew his sword at him.

"YOU DID THIS!" "Wh-what?! Me!?"

"Who else could have accomplished this feat but a scientist?! You murderer!" Logan began trying to explain that he's just one person and could never pull off something this massive.

As they argued, the ceiling of the room they were in began to collapse and they dove for cover in the nick of time.

Just cue the whole scene where they are running together for their lives through the crumbling hallways somewhat screaming, somewhat Roman yelling at Logan, and somewhat Logan getting frustrated at this almost human who is blaming him for the ruining of his theatre and death of his beloved friend. Logan was in the same predicament since he didnt know if anyone he knew was alive.

Logan does take it too far when he says "This is why your kind should never have emotions!"

Roman had a temper so he wasn't thinking when he took his sword and swiped it across Logan's face. Cue Roman realizing he is capable of hurting others and shrinking back. This is not the robot he wanted to be.

"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for." Logan was more suprised that the sword had only nicked him in the cheek and not got him in the throat or anything.

The place they are in begins to collapse right after that too and Logan shoves Roman out of the way with a "You're forgiven!" when the floor begins to crumble underneath them.

The rest of it is just them talking/ introducing themselves with just a little more civility and trying to find a way out of the building. They finally do, but it caves in. Roman helps push with Logan and finds out he is soooooo much stronger than a regular human. He clears the way so easily that Logan's actually jealous of the robot.

So now they are running through the city above ground away from the commotion and start their journey as fugitives in an apocalyptic world. Logan doesn't know why Roman is sticking with him and frankly Roman doesn't either, but the robot has no other place to go. Also Logan is a scientist and Roman is still suspicious that he wants to take him apart and study him. Which isn't completely wrong but Logan is more preoccupied with running for his life right now.

They first run to Logan's apartment a couple blocks down while the chaos is still happening around them. He grabs items from his house like he's evacuating and changes from his lab coat into more casual clothes, still keeping the hard drives with him.

Logan and Roman barely escape from the place before a bomb destroys the complex behind them. Logan gets tired quickly as they run through the traffic, since he didnt really work out. So Roman just picks him and his bags up with ease and sprints off with the speed of two cheetahs combined.

That was the story of how the two unlikely friends met. Logan eventually tries to contact his other colleagues only to find out that only three of them were left, not including himself. Each of them held a piece to the force field, but the blueprints of the actual structure were lost somewhere. Roman and Logan had parted ways for a little while so Logan could go meet up with the other scientists, but found out it was a trap just to get the three hard drives he had. His other colleagues were dead when he got there.

Roman had went to find his orginal creator, but there was no sign of him anywhere. So he returned to Logan and busted him out of the trap and they went on the run again.

From there on, the duo became inseparable even if they did seem like they were at odds half the time. They were soon joined by others who found sanctity and friendship within their tribe of misfits.

Emile Picani: The Ex Vice President of the fallen United States that everyone loved more than the actual president. He had signed a secret deal with the illuminati but when New York got attacked he said "Screw it" and ran.

Virgil: A 21-year-old boy with unexplainable psychic powers the government had locked up for experimentation. He's a techie and is good at technology and hacking stuff.

Patton: An alien disguised as a human who might have accidently contributed to Virgil's psychic powers. He loves everything about Earth, except the violence and bad stuff.

Remy: A defective clone who knew he was more than just a science experiment.

Nathaniel: An ex-security officer who just wants to survive the apocalypse and the people he's with sure seem to know what they are doing.

Thomas: An old friend of Logan's with the safe house they all camp out at sometimes. He is the one with all the money and supplies they need to stock up on.

There is so much more I could do for this AU. If you want me to do Patton and Virgil's meeting or backstories let me know. I'm sorry this got so long. I just love this AU now. Again credit to the artist who made that amazing piece sidespart and hope you all enjoy!

#logan sanders #roman sanders #sanders sides #thomas sanders #platonic logince #thatsthat24 #long post #tw death #tw lots of death #terrorist attacks #explosions #no deceit #for right now at least #we shall see

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