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puppypeter · 3 years

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These are all dark fics, READ THE TAGS before reading the fics. It is your responsibility to check whether what you are about to read is something that you can stomach. While most of these fics are based around trauma, recovery etc many feature triggering scenes or flashbacks as well as darker themes. Please be safe and don’t read them if they can be triggering for you! Proceed with caution! Most of them are Hydra Trash, but still not just the ugly bits as I like there to be a plot. Hiding them below the cut:

between scylla and charybdis | 21590 words

Sam Wilson has been witness to a lot of things he wishes he could unsee. Civilian families shot dead in their cars because of miscommunications at checkpoints. Riley’s body spiralling to the ground in a smoke-plumed plummet. His own face in his bathroom mirror after waking up hung-over as hell at two in the afternoon, the day after the anniversary of Riley’s death, year after year after year.

And now, in an abandoned bunker on the outskirts of Boston, a seemingly unremarkable manila folder at the bottom of a filing cabinet.

Berceuse | 10730 words

There are strange, new things Bucky needs from Steve.

Dreamers Often Lie | 11040 words

As far as Bucky remembers, sex is something that is painful and terrifying if you wake up while it's happening. As the Asset, sleeping through sex was a rare treat. When Steve lets Bucky know he's interested in a sexual relationship, what Steve doesn't know is that they have fundamentally different ideas of what that entails.

despite the threatening sky and the shuddering earth (they remained) | 71532 words

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

Fire And Water For Your Love | 77084 words

When the Avengers investigate an abandoned HYDRA base on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., they unexpectedly encounter a dark-haired man with a torn metal arm, who leads them to an even more shocking discovery deeper inside the base. The Avengers must reconcile what they have found with the lies S.H.I.E.L.D. has been telling for decades.

Give An Inch | 5070 words

The Captain has a warm smile and clear, open eyes. The Soldier knows these are tricks. He's fallen for them before and he won't do it again.

Humans As Gods | 4818 words

"HYDRA's scientists had been delighted to find their serum-reversal procedure had worked. Their jubilation was dampened by the discovery that Steve's smaller self might no longer be Captain America-sized but was still 100% Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers was now mad enough to spit nails. A minor oversight in the design of the containment area meant that smaller-Steve had simply wriggled out of the now ridiculously-oversized restraints like an angry ferret escaping a paper bag, and punched the nearest technician in the nuts.

Chaos ensued."

HYDRA scientists successfully de-serum Captain America, only to discover that they are utterly unprepared for Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier follows his instructions to the letter. This works out just great.

The Only One That Needs To Know | 6571 words

Bucky can't control his body. He can only control what secrets he keeps.

I Was Wearing My Blue Coat | 11503 words

Following exposure of his past as the Winter Soldier, anonymous postings of explicit video footage, 63 charges of murder and the wrath of the Internet, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes finally steps into the limelight and tells his story to Zenat Patel of the New York Times.

Compliance Will Be Rewarded | 4767 words

Someone told him once: "Compliance will be rewarded," and he remembers pressing his head against a man’s leg in open supplication. He remembers hands in his hair, and a gentle grip on the back of his neck. He remembers a man telling him "so good, so good for me aren't you?" And he remembers nodding his head in a desperate attempt to be exactly as good as he was supposed to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bucky Barnes is physically free from Hydra, but the hold on his mind lingers still. All he wants is to go home, and he'll do anything he can to get there.

To Burn Your Kingdom Down | 12370 words

The Avengers go after a Hydra splinter cell with a nasty habit of brutalizing their prisoners. Steve has some ugly history with them, and when a rescue mission gone wrong leaves him and Sam in enemy hands, the situation gets uglier still.

Worth The Wound | 7709 words

The asset knows that maintenance is better than punishment. But with Steve, maintenance becomes more pleasant, soft and gentle and everything he could dream of. It was only natural that he decided to prolong that maintenance a little longer.

The Spaces In-Between | 6971 words | Part 1 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

"Memories are like buckets of water: they weigh on the heart and the brain until the body fails. You're blessed to stay forgetful and young, Soldier."

Sometimes blessings feel like curses.

Illuminate The Scene | 7086 words | Part 2 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

The doctors had wanted to keep the Soldier. Shock him and freeze him until he was fixed, or tear him to scrap if he couldn’t be repaired so that he wouldn’t be an entirely wasted investment. Steve is the only thing stopping them.

When the Soldier can't trust his own body, how can he trust anything?

All These Riots Of Broken Sound | 83790 words | Part 1 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

When Steve and the team return to Avengers tower to find Bucky gone, they must venture into B.A.R.F. to figure out what triggered him to leave and hunt those who wronged him. Trapped in a simulation of Bucky's worst memories with rogue HYDRA agents waiting to strike, 100 years of secrets, lies, pain and love drive the team to their limit and push Steve towards a realisation that is a century in the making.

I Was Lost But Left A Trace | 3585 words | Part 2 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

Disorientated, the Asset reached up to wipe at the moisture on its cheeks and was shocked to find it clear, instead of the crimson it has been expecting. It didn’t understand why this misidentification had caused uproarious laughter from the technicians.

“It is not blood,” the Asset told him, “but it is still a malfunction.”

This sobered the technician a little, and he nodded tightly.

“Yes. It is. But we will fix you.”

I’ll Always Be Blamed For The Sun Going Down | 9907 words | Part 3 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

He knows he’s in the right place. He has heard the guys at the docks laugh and joke about the queers who come out after dark, looking to earn a little extra cash. He has seen the johns, when he’s been out late enough, skulking in the shadows like predators hunting for their next meal, looking for something in particular. Sometimes they look at him.

A small, rusty pen knife that his father had picked up in Europe during the Great War sits heavy in the breast pocket of his jacket. Just in case.

Book Of The Moon | 16019 words | Part 4 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

In 1929, Bucky Barnes falls in love for the first time and resigns himself to never telling a soul, let alone Steve, the object of his affections. In 1943, half a world away from the man he can never have and fighting for his life and his sanity, something new begins to bloom.

Habeas Corpus | 18054 words

An unexpected incident in the field leaves Steve Rogers facing the infiltration of a Hydra base and retrieval of important intelligence, all while pretending to be the Winter Soldier. Unfortunately, there are important aspects of the Soldier's past that Bucky hasn't disclosed, and Steve has no idea what he's really walking into.

Bullies | 14979 words

Written for the MCU trash meme prompt:

I wanna see Steve being messed with by his secretly-HYDRA coworker buddies. I want them generally fucking with him, "accidentally" doing terrible things to him or getting Steve into awful situations, telling jokes that aren't really jokes, gaslighting, performing sexual-assault hazing under the guise that "that's what people do now," pressuring him into other sex shit, anything, just fuck Steve up.

Steve isn't failing to fully catch on because he's dumb or oblivious: it's just that he is Steve, so he wants to believe the best of everybody, and he doesn't want to believe that he could be working for/with bullies and that (as Natasha says) he essentially died for nothing.

Not Unwanted, Not Unloved | 50320 words

They'd resigned themselves to never becoming parents - until Bucky gets pregnant and drops off the grid without even a whisper to his mate about his condition. Steve will still raze the earth to find him, but that doesn't mean he likes what he finds.

The Tones That Tremble Down Your Spine | 13889 words

Tony tells him they’re planning a party for Steve’s birthday. He knows how parties are supposed to go.

Lacuna | 62875 words

The Winter Soldier doesn't remember Steve Rogers, but he needs Rogers' help.

OR: The one where Bucky doesn't remember Steve, but falls in love with him anyway.

Not A Perfect Soldier | 93354 words

In a world where HYDRA was wiped out in the '40s, Steve is found by the Army rather than SHIELD. General Thaddeus Ross wants a perfectly obedient super-soldier at his command, and to that end, he sets out to break Steve to his will. As Steve struggles to come to terms with all he has lost, his life in captivity is only made bearable by the presence of another prisoner-- another super-soldier known only as "Soldat". Then the Avengers strike a deal with Ross to "borrow" him for missions, and Steve is faced with a team who dislikes him, an organization he doesn't trust, and the question of what he's willing to do to escape Ross's clutches.

For Want Of Him | 103174 words

It's the twenty-first century, and Steve Rogers has never been more alone. Everything he knew, everyone he loved, is now gone, and a dark, bitter loneliness claws at him, raking bleeding gashes into his heart. And then there's Brock Rumlow. Rumlow is like salt in his wounds; vicious, and cruel. But his dark brown hair and teasing smirk reminds Steve of someone long dead, and his New York accent sounds like home...He's a soldier like him...he understands. And Steve makes the fatal mistake of trusting him.

The Same Measure | 4943 words

The Winter Soldier was never allowed to stop unless an injury was too grievous.

To Be Unmade | 5114 words | Part 1 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

For the asset, things only ever get worse. The external scars fade quickly enough. The internal ones dig deeper and deeper.

But the internal scars are called love, and doesn't that make them worth the hurt?

Do Not Put In The Icebox | 7143 words | Part 2 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

When the asset malfunctions on a mission, Rumlow and Rollins learn more than they ever wanted to know about Pierce's hobbies.

And then everyone has pancakes.

The Knowing Makes It Worse | 4130 words | Part 3 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

No is a bad word and invites punishment.

Or, Alexander Pierce is a very bad man who delights in manipulating and degrading the asset.

Love Is For Children | 5303 words | Part 4 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky understands how the game works. He can't understand why it makes Steve cry.

But Natasha and the other Avengers are there to help.

I Just Wanted To Be Sure Of You | 4461 words | Part 5 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky has Bucky Bear; it's only fair for Natasha to have something of her own.

Visiting a toy store wasn't strictly necessary, but if Tony wants to throw money around, no one's going to complain.

“Till The End Of The Line | 6069 words | Part 6 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

It's hard to take a friendship right back up when so much has changed over seventy years.

Particularly when HYDRA's conditioning resurfaces.

*if you feel that any of these fics shouldn’t be in this list please just send me a message! :) I have read them all but over the past 1+ years so some of them I might not remember all the details of :)

#HTP #hydra trash party #dark fics #recovery fics #but with A LOT of trigger warnings #puppy peter fic recs #don't like don't read #hydra angst #bucky angst #bucky whump #MIND THE TAGS!!!

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jisungscaramel · 4 years

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voices | changbin

❀ genre; smut, college au, fwb ❀ pairing; changbin x reader (fem) ❀ word count; 1.6k

[warning] explicit sexual content, dirty talk, masturabation, (slight) ownership kink, (mild) dom changbin, phone sex, (which includes imagery of) oral (fem receiving), bondage, spanking, unprotected sex (stay safe y’all), overstimulation, creampie

Your eyes open to darkness, and you groan in utter annoyance - you just hate when this happens. You don’t even wanna know what time it is... but you check anyway, 2:20... am - not the worst. At least you have the opportunity to get some sleep, the slightest chance of closing your eyes to immerse in some obscure dream and certainly not the type of wet fantasy that dared to disturb your beauty rest in the first place.

The universe just loves fucking with the sleep schedule you work hard to keep regulated. But the not-so-random interruption to your slumber in it of itself is the least of your problems; the not-so-subtle throb of your clit is beyond irritating, especially since a certain someone isn’t physically there to help you with it.

Your adjusted vision wraps around the silhouette of the ceiling fan, sharpening in detail as you attempt to scrutinize it, five curved blades, metal brackets reflecting the moonlight, a simple ligh- not that a mundane distraction such as this would do anything to help, valiant effort though.

And then you turn your head to the side, fixing on the space where your phone should be laying on the bed side table.

“Should I call him...?” you ask yourself. You grab the device and go straight to the phone app, aggressively scrolling through your contacts ‘til you see his name: Changbin Seo.

Nothing fancy, nothing personal, it’s a deliberate choice to keep it that way, to stay firmly behind his boundaries, well, the boundaries you’ve assumed of him. In reality, he probably wouldn’t have an issue with you contacting him on a whim - even at this ungodly hour, but the idea still makes you nervous. That’s the prevailing predicament of a friend with benefits - sometimes there are too many boundaries and sometimes there are too few.

‘What if he gets annoyed with me? What if he stops talking to me? What if he thinks I’m crazy?’ The more time you spend in your own head, the more the shadow of your past experiences so rudely loom over you.

‘No, Changbin’s not like that. He’s not like that. He’s not like that. He’s not fucking like that.

‘At the worst, he won’t pick up ‘cause he’s asleep. That’s it. That’s all. Relax.’

Regardless, things would be much easier if he didn’t have to go across the state to be home for winter break.

And instead of making that single tap on the glass of your phone, you put it back down, placing it face down, reaching to open the drawer that lays beneath it. You pull out a little drawstring bag. In the darkness, you open it, unsheathing a silicone vibrator, light pink in the light, but rendered colorless in front of your eyes.

‘I should at least try by myself.’

Committing to your decision, you drown your ears in some dvsn - you gotta do what you can to self engage your senses. But you’d much rather hear his voice, much rather feel it vibrate against your skin, reverberate through your nerves. There’s just something about the way he growls when he goes deep, overwhelming the auricles of your ears in a crescendoing frenzy you can’t even fathom outside the moment, even if you try.

Your eyes close when you turn it on, trying your hardest to picture him in your mind’s eye.

The way he tilts his head back to stare at you, eyes half-lidded in the kind of carnal hunger, it makes you wonder what he’ll do next, body sizzling in desire, like it’s on fire.

And then, there’s the way he lightly tugs at the corner of his bottom lip, tongue brushing over the reddened skin in a teasing lick, you just want them to dip into your slick, to indulge your clit with quick flicks. He loves to look up at you with a tinge of innocence that so eerily contrasts with the vulgarity of his actions, lips smirking against your heat ‘cause he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he knows exactly how to drive you crazy in the best possible way-

“Fuck!”

Even if your imagination is enough to get you there, it’s not enough to satisfy you; it feels like trying to fulfill a day’s worth of hunger with a measly cup of instant ramen when you know damn well you deserve a three course meal.

You haphazardly throw the toy to the side - you’ll clean it in the morning; it’s just too much effort now.

And here you are again, staring at the dark silhouette of your phone. At this point, the amount of fucks you have to give are rapidly dwindling.

And here you are again, phone shining bright in over your face, Changbin’s name and number apparent on the screen. But before you can actually contemplate the idea that you’ve begun to dub a “last resort,” your phone slips out of your hand, knocking you right on the nose, hitting - you guessed it - his number.

And… now you’re calling him. Of course the universe thinks it’s hilarious to mess with you - when does it not?

“Hello?” There’s a clear groggy sleepiness to his voice - clearly, you’ve woken him up.

Fuck. “Oh sorry, Binnie, did I wake you up?”

“Hmm yeah,” he pauses, probably to rub his eyes, “what’s up?” As sexy as his gruff voice is, it’s the last thing you can think about, subtle embarrassment delicately wrapping your nerves.

“My bad… you know what? It’s nothing. I’ll let you sleep.”

“No, it’s okay, tell me what’s up,” he requests again.

“It’s nothing, I just…”

“Just what?”

“I miss you…”

“...Miss me where?”

“In…” you tighten your thighs together, “places where I shouldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” You can hear rustling sheets, as if he’s sitting up, as if his attention’s focusing on you. “What would you want me to do if I was there?”

You bite your lip. “You already know.”

“Tell me.” His voice takes a commanding tone, attempting to bend you into submission even through the phone.

Your fingers trace the skin above your underwear. “God, Changbin, I want you to fucking cripple me.”

It’s simply astonishing as to how clearly his sinister chuckle comes through your line, and it’s all it takes for your hand to slip under the thin cotton covering you. “Damn, chula, I didn’t know you wanted me that bad…” a moan slips from your lips both in response to your actions and his words. “Are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah,” your flustered response sounds in the same pitch.

“Naughty girl. I’m gonna have to punish you next time I see you.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“First, I’m gonna tear your clothes off,” you peel the flimsy sleep shirt off your body, not being able to take the increasing heat radiating from your skin, “and then I’m gonna tie your arms up and bend you over my desk to spank you - one slap for every time you’ve touched yourself while I’ve been gone.”

“Where are you gonna spank me?” A sultry tone edges your words.

“On your ass… your thighs… your pussy, depends on how bad you’ve been.”

“What are you gonna do if I earn my reward?” By now, you’re reaching for the vibrator you so carelessly tossed aside not too long ago.

“I’m gonna throw you on my bed, then I’m gonna force your thighs apart and stretch out your soaking little cunt. I’ll fuck you so deep, you’ll feel me rearranging your insides,” he grunts, “Fuck, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“Would you let me cum?”

That evil laugh is back, prolonged in the most tantalizing of ways. “Yeah, but not just once. It’s gonna attack you back to back, until your legs go numb.”

You shudder, eyes rolling back. “What if your roommate tries to interrupt us?”

“I’m gonna fuck you harder to mark my territory.”

“Am I your territory?”

He snickers. “You know that pussy’s mine. All. Mine.”

All you can offer as a response is an array of mewls, your walls desperately tightening against the inanimate object inside you.

“God, you sound so sexy when you moan, you know that?” He grunts, and for a few seconds, no words are exchanged. The only thing you can hear is the rapid rustling of fabric, presumably around his hand movements, and the subtle hisses seeping from his lips.

“Are you naked?” he asks.

“Yeah…”

“Show me.”

You lower your phone to capture the sin you’re committing between your legs with a clear view of your bare body neck down, promptly sending the image to him.

And it’s obvious when he receives it because you hear that low, guttural growl you’re oh so familiar with. “You’re so hot.” His voice is strained. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum… are you close?”

“Yeah… I wish you could cum inside me.”

“I do too. Fuck, you look so gorgeous when your pussy’s swollen, dripping with my cum.”

His voice drops an octave, catalyzing the long overdue release that has been coiling inside you. His name rolls off your tongue in an unexpected increase in volume. The hypothetical fantasy momentarily becomes reality in your mind, simulations inducing tangible pleasure inundating you in waves that you didn’t know were possible in a setting like this; why on earth did you let the frustration marinate for this long?

“Fuck,” he curses.

“What?”

“...I made a mess.”

Your phone vibrates with a message from him - it’s a video... and you have the slightest inkling of what it is.

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tanakavox · 3 years

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Look into the mutiverse chapter 4

Thanks again to ExiledDarkness for writing the charcters reaction for this chapter. Please go check out his stuff. And if your wondering where Qrow came from, We forgot to add a scene for Qrow and didn't feel like going back.

This chapter is based of the Youtuber SomecallmeJohnny and his review of Super Mario 64. I had to cut it short because my laptod was acting up again and google docs was acting wonky, parts of the fic getting erased. Rest assure for the Somecallmejohnny fans, I won't just do his reviews. I have plans to do Super gaming bros reaction as well. And for those who don't know Johnny, go check him! Enjoy the reaction.

The screen lights up again and shows Jaune wearing a cap and hoodie and sitting on a bright red couch. He had a bit of stubble on his face and he was currently holding a controller in his hand as he turned on a device known as the N64.

"Oh? Jaune looks good with stubble." Blake comments. Everyone looks at Jaune and then back to the one on the screen. They all nodded in agreement.

"It's a go time! Super Mario 64!" He said in a high pitched voice with a bad accent.

The Jaune on the screen sighed seemingly tired. "Lady and Gents welcome back to the Super Mario marathon, And just like with Ocarina of time, this is a game that haunted me during the N64 lifetime. Jaune looked the the N64 sitting on his dresser and continued. "It was like the console itself was actively mocking me like: "Hey Jauney? How about you ditch that playstation and try me out instead?" The blonde's eyes lit up in anger. "Well I didn't have a job in 1996 you sensitive prick!" Jaune snapped at the console.

Everyone blinked at the sudden anger. Ruby turned towards JNPR and asked, "Are you okay Jaune?"

Jaune, still frozen from the sudden burst of anger from his other self, snaps back to reality and nods at the question. "Yeah, I think I understand what's happening here. But I'll stay quiet until I know for sure."

Jaune turned toward the screen and went on like nothing happened. "Last time I gave Mario attention, I was focused on what made the Italian "Plumber—"" He said with quotation marks. "—the video game icon he is today. Now we're gonna do it again only in 3d."

Jaune turned to his audience and smiled. "You guys ready for another Super Mario marathon?"

"Aha!" Jaune says as he slammed his closed fist on his hand. "This is me doing video games!"

Ren paused at hearing this information. "Then that explains the sudden burst of anger then." Nora and Jaune nod while the rest of the audience looks on confusedly.

RWBY look at each other before Yang hesitantly asks, "So why did he get so angry?"

Jaune laughs before scratching the back of his head. "I like video games but I hate it when I can't progress further into the game. Sometimes I get really into it, I guess."

"Here we go, Super Mario 64, the 64 being figureded to the console and not the 64 game in the series, Mario's first 3d game, and a launch title for the N64. It was highly praised and hailed as the 3d version of what Super Mario bros on the NES did for platemors at the time, Mario 64 did the same. But I came into the 64 train late, So I don't have what you call: Super Mario 64 memories. In fact my first 3d Mario game was the next game we'll be looking at: Super Mario Sunshine on the GameCube. Jaune's expression darkened as he smiled hurmlousy. "But that can wait. Oh it can wait." The tone of his voice was bitter and venomous.

Everyone laughed now knowing the context of Jaune's anger towards video games.

"Alright booting the game up and the first thing you see is Mario's head. You know to really hammer in that this is Mario's first 3d adventure. You can even fuck around with the face a bit but it doesn't really effect the game it's just there for fun.

We're also greeted by Mario's new voice, provided by Charles Margent. Shockingly this isn't his debut as the Jumpman, that was in Mario Fundamental, a Pc game released a year before. Pretty sure no one heard of it before someone did a document on it.

"This idea of a floating Mario head, perhaps more infamously in Mario teaches typing two. A floating deformed head pop on the screen.

"Hey? Are you ready for Mario type?" It asked.

"Mother of God." Jaune deadpan in horror.

"Despite the new voice, Mario doesn't speak much. It's mostly hiyas woohoos throughout the game. And he only speaks a full phase when he completes a goal or he falls asleep on the job. It shows the red clad mario on the ground sleeping.

"Ha spatgai, Ha ravioli." The plumber mutters in his sleep.

Nora drools over the names of food. They sound pretty good right now.

"Charles as Mario is so absorbed into my head I can't imagine anyone else doing the role. It's not like the acting is amazing or anything, he's been voicing Mario for nearly 20 years at this point. If Charles stepped out of the role for any reason, the next guy would just try to simulate Charles' voice.

"It's weird that way," Ren piped up, "No matter what happens people are going to remember the original no matter how much the new one tries to be the old one.

"Hear hear ninja boy" Qrow cheered a bit and took a swig of his beer.

"Okay nearly forgot that I was looking at a video game, Sorry about that. Well let's look at that plot shall we?"

"I'm curious to hear about the kind of story this game might have," Ozpin said as he crosses his legs.

"Boswer kidnaps Princess Peach, Mario must go save her, now that didn't take long now did it?"

Ozpin blinked and sat back in his seat, a bit disappointed.

"I'll let it slide this time since they probably wanted to keep it safe for the first game in 3d. Hell, the menu theme is the main theme for the series."

Qrow snorts. "Fair enough. I guess you can't expect these guys to be that ballsy."

The entire game is set in Peach's castle. Boswer has taken the power star, which I believe gives the castle power? Jaune shrugged. I dunno what they do, it's not really explain and getting more powerstar allows you to get into more levels, and that's the name of the game here. Bowser had set up routine courses in painting.

"The courses tend to varies but nothing here gets too crazy like other Mario games. It's not until late game you go to more odd place like in a clocktower or riding rainbow.

"The game's openness is the first thing you'll take note of in Mario 64. You can start a mission with a hint on what to do,but there is nothing stopping you from just doing a different mission and grabbing the star despite not being the mission you clicked on.

There are a handful of expectations like racing against against Koopa the quick who not gonna show up unless you chose his mission, but most of the time you can go at it on your own pace. Eh, I didn't wanna fight King Bo-mb yet, I want free the chain chomp and get the star there. I could take down King twop, or I could do a well place jump and get this unrelated power star. And that's where a lot of Mario's replay value comes in, not just getting the power star but how you get them.

"Oh, this game sounds fun! I should get it if we ever get out of here." Nora exclaimed.

"With what money Nora?" Jaune asked. Nora looked at Jaune with a wide smile. "No." Jaune deadpan. Nora pouted at his response and turned to Ren with a wide smile.

"No Nora. And do not ask Weiss either." Ren said with his eyes still on the screen and Nora pouted again.

Peach's castle acts as a hub world, the place you're exploring and using to get to other stages to get more power stars. But in order to duke it out with Bowser, you need to get a certain amount of power stars to access the level. As a guy who doesn't care for hub worlds I don't mind Peach's castle. The levels aren't too far apart and there are things you can do in the castle that can help you increase your star count. Like a secret race track that gives you two stars if you're fast enough, or an underwater level that contains an easy to get star. It challenges you in a way that makes it still feel like a Mario game.

"It sounds pretty easy at first glance, but I can understand how annoying it can become if you mess up at least once or twice." Jaune says. Ruby, Nora, and even Ren nod in agreement.

The biggest change to the formula was the jump to 3d, like with Ocarina of Time. He still has to break boxes, stomp on enemies, the works but this game gave the man a few extra moves to go along with the change to 3d. The analog stick is used to move Mario, the further you tilled it the faster he moves, instead of the run button we knew from the past game. Mario still has the jumps he's famous for, but pressing the jump button can allow Mario to reach the heights he's never seen until this game without a power up. He can crouch and crawl but I've only used this a total of once. But you standstill and jump you can do a backflip, and if you crouch and run you can do a long jump which I love using so much and because you can do some real fancy shit with it, and it makes Mario move faster to boot. If you snap the anlong back and jump he can do a somersault and if you jump towards a wall, Mario can wall jump as well.

Nora makes a face at the detailed review. "All these moves and stuff sound annoying. Why can't games be as simple like they are now?!"

Ren sighs and begins to explain but Qrow cuts in. "It's because of games like these were like test models that you get to play the good quality games you have now. I remember playing Soaring Ninja back when he was literally unplayable and useless. Now look at him!"

Ruby and Yang gasp, Soaring Ninja was unplayable?

"I wouldn't be surprised if this move came from the gameboy version of Donkey kong. That remake has a fucklord of levels and a handstand jump for Mario. He still takes damage if he falls too far, so he's just a pale imitation. Jaune had Mario wall jump a wall to prove a point. "The Mario I know could fall from any height and take no dam-" Jaune cut himself off his eyes widening when he heard Mario grunt in pain and his health go down a bit. "WHAT THE FUCK! He took damage from a large height! Mario! What's the meaning of this?" He asked in bewilderment, looking at the floating Mario head from earlier."

"Oh nice computer you have here. Can I have it?" the Mario head asked

"No!" Jaune exclaimed.

Everyone's eyes widened at the scene. Ozpin checked his mug with scrutiny to see if he was still drinking the right drink. Looked normal enough.

"Peach's castle has 120 power stars in the castle, but you only need 70 of them to beat the game." Jaune had a strained smile on his face as he continued. But where the fun in just getting 70 power star and beating the game that way, it not like getting all the star is that time com- for fuck sakes yes it is!"

"Let's just get one thing clear, I fucking depise the 100 coin misson. It's as simple as it sounds, grab 100 coins and then grab the star that appears over your head. Lather rinse repeat, for all 15 courses. In a game that usually has you go to once place and grab the star, collecting these coins brings the game to grueling crawl. Mario 64 doesn't have a checkpoint system. It doesn't bother me much. The levels are usually small and with Mario's new moves getting the Power star is not only comartable, it's also pretty fucking fun. And then their these." That venomous tone from before came back. The screen showcased the blue coins that have appeared throughout most of the video so far.

"Aw it's one of those games! The type that needs you to waste your time actually going through all of what the game has planned for you before you get to the final boss! What a rip off!" Qrow exclaims, tossing his hands in the air. Jaune agrees, crossing his arms and trying not to join in on the rage.

"No amount of looking of cute puppies. can cotain the amount of rage i have when I fuck up these mission with a impeferct jump or when a enemey hits me from behind. It's not always a painful process, but sucks so hard cause the coins are either place so far part or because they're so goddamn scarce! "Gotta kill those enemies before the coins blink away and scatter when they spawn. These blue coins are 5 regular coin a piece but you gotta get them before they blink away and you only got one shot! Was there area I didnt search, an enemy I skipped, I did I fuck up somewhere since I only have 64 coins after look around what feels like for fucking ever?!

"And try not get the last coin in a dangerous area or impossible to backtrack to. The star will always appear right above Mario's head, so make sure it's a safe locati-GODDAMN!"

The star had appeared in a caged area that Mario couldn't reach.

Everyone laughed at the other Jaune's misery. The Arf viewing the screen feels relieved that he himself isn't on the receiving end. Or was he?

"Couldn't just tell the star to come to you Mario?" Jaune asked the Mario head on his computer.

"When a moon hits your eye, like a big pizza pie, that's amore!" Mario began to sing and Jaune facepalm when he didn't get answered. "When an eel lunges out…

"UNGAI?!" Jaune jumping up. A eel appeared and let out a roar and Jaune wasn't in his chair anymore, It being left spinning by how fast he booked it.

"That's amore!" Mario finished singing and chuckled. Get it? Amore eel? I said funny.

"Fuck you!" Jaune said from somewhere in the house.

All the immature audience members fell out of their seats in laughter while the more mature chuckled at the scene.

At the end of the day, I really shouldn't be going for all the Power star, and that's more of a technical issue, but I'm gonna bitch anyway. But despite the age, this game is still a treat to play even today. This has been Somecallmejohnny, and you guys have a Good Day.

Nora stretches and yawns. "Well, that was a nice one. Funny too! I wonder what's next?"

The end

#rwby #jaune arc #rwby ruby rose #blake bellodona #yang xiao long #qrow branwen #rwby ozpin #headmaster ozpin #rwby salem #rwby nora valkyrie #rwby lie ren #rwby mercury black #emerald sustrai #rwby qrow branwen #rwby oscar pine #somecallmejohnny #somecallmejauney #look into the multiverse

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lonclyhcartsclub · 3 years

Text

A World Alone // Self Para

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of death, parental death, lost consciousness, mentions of a coma, injury, violence, fighting, hospitals, alcohol, smoking, knife mention

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄: Josephine Perez. 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: The Woods, near the Equinox Fair. 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: Alexander Soliel, AJ Prasad, Emery Woods, Devon Hale, Savana Bisanti, Reuben Garcia, Milo Pierce, Garrick Wan, Clara Blanchard, Nur Kutlar.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: As her world fades to black, magician Josephine Perez looks back on her life and the people within it as her life flashes before her eyes.

Did AJ or Josie see the Strigoi coming? Of course they didn’t. Both of them had been so caught up in the fact that their magical capabilities were no longer existent that they hadn’t heard the feet in the distance.

That was, until they were descended upon and Josie did what she would have always done, completely on instinct.

She gave AJ a swift push, and told him to run.

While she was able to fight her way out using the small amount of magic she could muster — it had become clear from the look on her face that there was little hope in her eyes. Josephine Perez had been gravely injured and was dying where she stood.

Of course, the other had leapt into action with the intention to save his friend — carrying the both of them to a nearby shelter, where the next battle began to keep her eyes open.

Jo couldn’t really tell what AJ had said, but it had looked like some kind of apology. Like he was sorry she got hurt even though she had made the conscious decision to push him out of the way.

The woman just smiled, holding a piece of her cardigan to one of her many bleeding wounds. Her own bravery had saved them both, after all.

“I’m not” we’re the last two words the magician said before she closed her eyes.

———

Josephine had not known what a world alone looked like before. Not like this one. Sure, As her eyes closed for what she thought would be the very last time, what she saw was a hell of a lot different than what she saw in her nightmares. It was way worse, simply nothing but a black expanse and the sounds of her labored breathing ringing in her ears. She didn’t know a heart as big as hers could sound this loud, practically echoing across wherever the hell this was.

Then came their faces, flashing from one crevice of her mind to another like scenes from a movie. The last time she’d practically gaze on any of them had been intended to be a break from what was happening. It was supposed to be one of the best days of their lives, yet now, the bleakness had swallowed it whole. The magician didn’t even know if she’d live to see the aftermath, but part of her was at peace with that. She had always told herself if I die, if something happens to me, I will have given Evan everything I have. Every single ounce of love I could offer. The little boy would have a whole family of people who think the world of him, cheering him on. Even though she knew she wasn’t conscious, the very thought of that brought a smile to her face. Even at the end of her story, he was still her everything. He would always stay that way.

He had Emery, Devon and AJ, to help him navigate the magical world and become the best damn magician the world would ever come to know. Savana would be his biggest fan; there was no one who could be anyone’s personal cheerleading squad like she could. Of course, she hadn’t forgotten about Alex and Milo. No harm would possibly come to that little boy. Not when they were around.

Milo. Oh my god, Milo. Even in near death, the name made her heart lurch. How was it only now that she could finally admit to herself what she might possibly never get to say to his face? Her own self-consciousness might have just stopped her from what could have been the craziest adventure of her life. Of course she loved him. How could she not? Out of everyone in the world, he gave her all of himself without even giving a second thought. Ward or not.

She could see him now, soaring through the air like a bat out of hell and setting the world ablaze. I never wanted to hurt you. She wished she could have said, blue pendent in hand. I could never, because holy fuck, the feelings for you are something I’ve been so scared of for so long and I don’t know why. You are everything I’ve ever needed and I wish I could have told you. She had told Emery once: “Go get him and never let him go,” but now he’d never know. Even from death, she would will him all of the most beautiful things in life, and hope that he could have the life she couldn’t give him. He had probably dashed through every inch of the fairground, looking for her. Maybe he still was -- seeking the concept of time seemed to be for naught here. All she knew was she wanted to run to him. She wanted to run to him, wrap her arms around him and never let him go.

As the world caved in, she could have been in the one place that felt like home to her.

Maybe that was something Milo and Savana could finally agree on, setting the world on fire. Savana Bisanti was a whirlwind, a beautiful one at that. She would keep her son strong and remind him just how beautiful he was, without fail. She had always done the same for Jo, after all. The Moroi had brought out a side of her that she had thought to be long dead and made her feel free and young again. Thank you, Savana. Thank you for making me feel alive. She couldn’t help but even think of Reuben, as random as that sounded. Josie had never been given any reason to hate the man. In fact, all their interactions had been seemingly cordial. None the less, he was her protector now. For the love of god, man, if you break her heart I will make your life a living hell. Give her diamonds, give her every ounce of love you have in your heart. She deserves it. After everything and what I’m about to put her through.

God, Sav. I’m so sorry.

Emery Woods. He would have to sit on the stoop alone now, cigarette in hand, watching the world go on without her in it. I’m so sorry I broke our promise. There’s a long way from now until eighty. Someone else would always have to be right, for it could no longer could be her. The woman could feel herself coming undone at the thought. Life without Emery in it for her didn’t exist. At least he had Alex. For the love of god, she thought, tears streaming down her cheeks -- in this world alone, just drive to Vegas already. Pour a beer for me and know that I will be watching, loving you endlessly.

Alexander Soliel had been one of the first people who didn’t make her feel judged. He made her laugh like no one else and when someone hurt her, he was always the first to go to bat for her. A brother, if you will. The closest thing to one that she would ever have and ever get. She could hear Evan’s voice in her dancing across the space like a broken record and as she wanted to call out for him, she was reminded that Alex would be able to go to him. He would know how hard she had fought just to stay alive. It wasn’t anything she could have helped, anything she could have stopped. Tell him all the things we did.. when he’s old enough. He’d give Evan a picture of his mom to hang onto as he grew.

The thought of Garrick holding Devon as she cried shattered her very conscious like glass. Her person. Growing up she had only known the fakes and the phonies and nothing had felt real, but simply a simulation. Then the blonde had come into her life, with her bright blue eyes and hypnotizing smile that just drew you in as if you were coming home. My best friend. In a way, she was beating herself up. How could you leave Devon like this, without saying goodbye. You’ll never get to return that I love you that you had shrugged off. Josie wanted to scream for five more minutes, just five more minutes on solid ground for the chance to help her understand that she had to do this. You will always be my person, Devon Hale. No matter how far away I am from you. No matter if I get out of this pit or not.

This world, alone.

AJ Prasad. The very person she had done it for. Dampened powers aside, the pair had fought and run like hell. He had been the last person she saw before she had entered this place and now, he was her final hope. His very life was in her hands.

Of course, she didn’t know what was happening overhead, but she hoped he was running. Run, AJ. As fast as your legs can carry you. Live a long, happy life with Cydele. Love with every single breath you take. Fight for her, just as I fought for you. Get the hell out of this town with her, before it’s too late.

She had give him a second chance. If she had tried anything else, they would have gotten to him.

Ever the protector, until the very end. In a way, she was proud that she had stayed true to that side of herself. The people she was leaving behind would understand. If she could stop the death of someone she cared about by leaving this world, she would do it. Not that she didn’t think her life didn’t matter, but her friends had so much goodness to offer the world.

There was nothing in this world she wouldn’t do to say one more I love you to every single one of those faces.

“Professor Perez? Professor Perez!”

The voice ripped through the silent blackness like a knife, but it was a sweet one. Clara Blanchard. She was calling out to her and the last thing Jo needed to pull herself out. To wake up.

Opening her eyes was like coming up from underneath the ocean to the surface again. As the air filled her lungs, she could hear the muttering voices of a group of healers around her and the quiet sobs of relief coming from one. Clara. The familiar face of Professor Kutlar was the first one she saw. The look on her face was one of relief, considering the extent of her injuries. It was very likely that Jo could have died, but she hadn’t. She was there and she was staring at the other woman like she was the most beautiful being in the world.

“…Where’s my son?” Were the first words Josie was able to muster, still weak. “Where is he?”

Clara made her way back over, taking Josie’s hand. “He’s outside, and Professor Pierce is too. He’s been waiting here ever since.” She murmured, stroking the hair in Josie’s eyes away from her face as a sign of comfort. “You’ve been out a couple of days… I know there’s going to be a lot of people who are very happy to see you.”

See her. Josephine Perez was alive. The woman had endured one of the closest brushes with death even possible, and she had made it out.

#// i deadass bawled my eyes out writing this guys like i dont think you understand #death tw #blood tw #violence tw #parental death tw #lost consciousness tw #injury tw #alcohol tw #hospital tw #coma tw #SELF PARA.#SELF PARA: JOSIE.#SPEAKING: JOSIE.#JOSIE.

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rezdogsyonder · 4 years

Text

Similar Circumstances (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki and reader have to tell Fury about what happened and deal with the consequences.

Warnings: smut like right off the bat, over simulation, choking, cockwarming, hair pulling, magic against the reader,

A/N: this is unfinished and will remain unfinished because I am leaving tumblr and will not be coming back. If someone were to want to continue this they are allowed to do so.

**********

You woke up feeling more exhausted than anything, you wanted to slip back into unconsciousness, but are unable to due to a growing headache. You groan in response to it getting worse before you feel something cold pressed to your forehead and you feel a bit at ease. A haze falling over you, that you can’t quite comprehend.

You are so glad for having days off after parties, it sorta became a customary rule made by Tony since him and most of the team were getting trashed at pretty much every gathering.

A dull throbbing between your legs becomes more apparent and you are forced into forming a coherent thought. The first thing to your mind is your actions from last night, the drinking, the library, and oh god... Loki. The reason for the throbbing between your legs, the reason you are a little sore. You’re glad for your enhanced healing, and hope the rest of this uncomfortable feeling goes away within the next few hours. But you have higher priorities right now.

Loki. Who is still nestled deeply inside of you. Who you seemed to have stirred awake with your moans and groans of waking up. Your wiggling probably didn’t help the situation either.

“Mmm... my love, how did you sleep?” He asked in a low morning voice. How can he sound so sexy at a time like this? He removed his had from your forehead and you whimper lightly at the loss of relief.

“Oh?” You yawned, “really good, and it might be thanks to a certain god.” You smiled into his neck. You’re still straddling him, and he seems to be waking up, from what you feel down there, you’re waking up too.

“It seems like you slept good. No?” You lean up to look at him, he kneeds your ass cheeks before stealing a kiss.

“Indeed.” As quick as his sentence was over, he had you flipped onto your back. He was most definitely hard again, there is no doubt about it. You’re already turned on already which doesn’t seem possible. The shift causing him to slip deeper inside of you. You cuss, and bite your lip.

“You like that love?” His hand reaching up lazily to rest upon your throat, light squeezes coming from his fingers. “You like having my cock in your sweet cunt all night? Hmm?”

He slowly pulls out till he has just the tip in your entrance, and he pushes back in excruciatingly slow. You feel every. Single. Vein.

You nod while moaning, grabbing the back of his neck to bring him down and kiss you. Tongues battling for dominance. You then rake your nails down his back. You realize that he must like this, because he arches his back and groans into your mouth when you do this.

It is the hottest thing when you are able to see when you do something that brings him pleasure. His low growl, the way he breaks the kiss to look at you with hooded eyes. All while he’s still torturing you with his cock.

“Loki... please.” You pant. “I need you to go faster. Please. I need you.” You plead with him,

“As you wish,” and his pace began to pick up, the sound of skin on skin ringing throughout the room. His hands reaches down and is fondling your breasts, mouth on your nipple expertly drawing moans out of you.

Your hands are everywhere, just trying to pull him closer than he already is. Which isn’t really possible. Pulling at his waist, before tracing up to his shoulders, then to his neck. One hand reaching up and into his hair, pulling lightly but just enough to get him to look at you. He growled at the sensation, and he sped up again.

“Oh you really do have a way of testing me, my love.” He claimed your lips with his own while his hands bring your knees to rest over his shoulders. The new angle makes him rub against that spot that has you incoherent and seeing stars. Your eyes roll back and Loki begins kissing up your neck.

“Do you belong to me?” He whispered in your ear before sucking onto your sweet spot.

“Yes.” Drawing out the word with a long moan.

“Who do you belong to? Tell me.”

“You... Loki. I belong t-to you.”

“That’s right. You’re mine.” He’s reaches down and begins rubbing circles into your clit. Pleasure building, you arch your back, that coil in your belly winding tight but you’re not quite there yet. You grind into him, chasing that peak.

“Cum for me darling.” That was it. All you needed was his voice to push you over the edge. You clench around him, and the moan you draw out of him is the most beautiful thing you can hear at that moment.

He fucked you through your orgasm keeping the steady rhythm, and you’re not coming back down. He’s still rubbing tight circles on your clit. At first it was feeling like heaven, but now it has tears running down your face. Your fingernails going down his back. Your moans enough to rival a porn star.

“Gods, you look beautiful right now,” he slowed, just enough for you to calm down. “Come on love, I know you have another in you.” He flipped you onto your belly and quickly thrusted back into you. He held your hips forcing your ass to stick in the air while your face is in the sheets. He is already beginning a punishing pace.

“Oh god, Loki... I can’t.” Your voice is slightly muffled, his fingers encircling your throat, pulling you back flush against him. He is rutting into you in a steady, unforgiving, rhythm.

“Yes, you can and you will.”

You turn your head to kiss him, a hand coming up to hold his head. This orgasm sneaking on you, you were brought to the edge immediately. You moan against his mouth and he gladly swallows it up.

He works you through this one as well, and it isn’t as intense but it is no shorter than the last one, but he doesn’t seem to be slowing down. Only speeding up. You feel him twitch within you, he’s close, chasing his own relief.

“Beg for me, beg for my seed. Tell me what you want.”

“Please Loki. Please cum in me. I need you.” Three more thrusts and a warmth fills you and you are able yo come down from the ridiculous high Loki brought you into. He peppers your neck with kisses and you hum with delight. The haze had left, but with every kiss that makes contact with your skin, it is slowly coming back.

“Well, good morning.” You smiled, and brought him in for a kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, asking for entrance once again, slowly mapping out your mouth before pulling away slightly. Dragging your bottom lip out with his teeth.

“Hmm, that it is.” Fingers lightly grazing over your skin before he firmly grabs your hips, he slowly pulls himself out of you while he sucks another mark into your shoulder. You let out a low whine, not liking the emptiness.

He steps off the bed tenderly holding your hand, “Come love, let us bathe together.” You smiled again, eager to continue in the shower.

**********

The shower was spent exactly as you would expect it would. But you are clean nonetheless. Dressed professionally to go admit the most unprofessional thing you could do. Fury is going to be livid. Or he’ll make fun of you two in front of the whole building. The former is actually preferable.

Loki, the lucky bastard, used magic to get himself ready. One snap and he was dressed and ready for what came next, and he just sat back and watched you do everything you needed. A comfortable silence over the two of you. You finish up your face with a nice red lipstick before you look down and see hickeys all over your neck.

You grab some foundation to attempt to hide the bruises all around your neck and using color corrector over each one. Why they are still not healed you have no idea. Though they will be gone by dinner, so you can’t really complain. You remember a time when you had to cover them for days.

“Why do you hide them?” He walked to wear you were sitting, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I don’t want to give Fury another thing to scold us over.” You feel his hand on your neck, the gesture becoming natural feeling, and he tilts your chin back and kisses your forehead. The kiss sends tingles down to your neck, a cool buzz resting there.

“There, now only my eyes can see them.” You look down to see that he’s right, you can see in the mirror that there is nothing marring your skin.

“Whoa, okay.” You shove your brush into your makeup bag, feeling a little sick to your stomach. Taking one last look in the mirror, you’re wearing a black blazer with a white tank underneath and black fitted slacks and black stilettos. Not there same ones as last night though, you can’t seem to find them and you can only hope that they weren’t left anywhere obvious.

You two go to leave your room but you stop him. “Wait,” you hold his arm before he is able to turn the doorknob. “What if we can’t be together? It’s not going to be the same when we leave this room.”

“We’ll find a way darling.” He interlaced his fingers with yours and he placed a kiss on your cheek. Turning the knob you two begin to make your way to the main floor of the Avengers workplace.

**********

You got to his office when he was out, it was a bit of a relief and somehow made it a little worse. His assistant telling you to just wait in his office, and you’re practically jumping out of your skin. It’s even worse since you can’t even sit next to Loki.

It seems Fury knew somehow and put the seats just barely out of reach of each other. Meanwhile Loki was trying to get you to calm down, telling you a story of him and Thor when they were younger.

“—I do not know how he is able to sense me, even when I am a snake, but it ruined the trick I had for him. Since I haven’t done anything to him in the past 80 years I shall—“ he couldn’t finish his story when the door is swung open in a harsh manner.

“Son of a bitch.” Fury chuckled. “Son of a bitch!” He crossed the room to sit at his desk. An uncomfortable tension falling over the room when he just sits there staring at the two of you.

“You could not keep it in your pants for one day? I expected more from you L/N, maybe not from him, but you?” You look down, feeling as though you’ve gotten in trouble and sent to the principles office.

“With all due respect sir,” you gulped, trying to look him in the eye, “it wasn’t planned. At all.”

“I know it wasn’t planned smart ass, but there are rules. Regulations you have to abide by. You can’t just think that you’re exempt just because you’re a fan favorite,” he gestured to you. “Or a newbie, and by the way, great first day.” Fury smiled sarcastically.

“Why thank you sir,” Loki said in a slightly monotone voice, clearly not bothered at all, “the reason Y/N and I came here today was to tell you of our flout of the afformentioned policy, we realized our mistake, and came straight to you, and I don’t know why you would make such a rule but it is quite ignorant. If you are going to get mad at anyone it should be me, I am the one who pursued Y/N. Not the other way around. I would like to also tell you that I am going to continue pursuing Miss L/N, whether you give me permission or not.”

You had no idea what to say, Loki had said it all, and a little extra. You would never have spoken to Fury that way. You look from Loki back to him and he looks pleasantly surprised.

“Okay.” Fury touched his fingers together and leans back in his chair, a faint smirk resting on his face.

“Okay?” Now you were the one who is surprised. You look to Loki who is also looking slightly confused.

“Okay,” he confirmed, “anybody who is willing to talk to me like that has some balls, and with that you have gained some of my respect. Now leave before I change my mind.”

“Thank you sir.” You quickly made your way out the door, dragging Loki behind you. You’re relieved he isn’t mad, and that there isn’t really any punishment, but the uneasy feeling in your stomach is still there.

Upon arriving in the elevator you press the floor for the tower common area, which had all the rooms on it. As soon as the doors closed Loki was wrapping his arms around you and picked you up twirling you. A small gasp and a squeak escaping your lips.

“See my dear? There was no reason to fret over Fury.” He’s smiling up at you before slowly letting you slide down to let your feet touch the ground. “So now that we have the blessing of Fury, will you be mine?”

The unease is washed away, and another haze comes over you, like a veil. “...Y-yes, of course.”

He grabs your face and brings your lips together in a loving, sweet kiss. Not as intense as his earlier kisses, but you still feel that electricity. Your hands move from his shoulders the left one coming down to rest on his chest, the right going up to the nape of his neck. The kiss slowly becoming more heated, and you want to keep pulling him closer. Too preoccupied with each other you two don’t notice when the elevator door opens and—

“Whoa, what the Fuck?” Sam averted his eyes dramatically, causing you to roll yours.

“Shut it Wilson.” You separates yourself from Loki and walk past him. Loki following close behind.

“Whoa-ho-ho! Y/N and Loki sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Sam laughs as the doors close slowly. Too slow for your taste.

“I imagine the rest of the reactions will be of the same nature.” Loki smirked behind you.

“Ugh, god I hope not, but probably.” You keep walking till you get to the kitchen area. “You want breakfast?” You turn to look at him as you put an apron on.

“Yes that would be wonderful. I haven’t had a Midgardian breakfast.”

“Oh really, what did you guys have on Asgard?” You pull out your ingredients and start the stove.

“Dagveror the day meal, and Nattveror the night meal. Both were filled with copious amounts of meat, wine, and fruits.” As he’s talking you mix everything to make the batter.

“Oh well, we have pancakes!” Holding up your bowl. You bring it to the now heated stove, expertly pouring a perfect circle, and heading to the fridge for the many fruits that are always there. Turning around you bump into Loki’s chest.

“That sounds delightful, but I can think of something else I would rather ravish.” His eyes roaming all over you. You can’t do anything now that you’re in his hold, he places his forehead on yours and you close your eyes.

Your lips finally touch, slowly moving together, his tongue moving over your bottom lip. You allow him entrance, the kiss is slow but no less passionate than your other kisses.

A throat clearing interrupts you two and you pull away to look at who it is. Tony is standing there, hands on his hips in a robe looking disheveled.

“Gross.” The single word statement said a lot more than what was heard. His disgust clearly displayed on his face and in his tone. He went around the two of you quickly to the fridge to grab the carton of orange juice. Leaving the room without another word.

“Hopefully the others take the news a lot better than them.”

**********

#avengers #marvel #avengers fic #powered!reader #marvel fic #loki x reader #loki smut #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #dark!loki x reader #dark!loki #dark #dark fic

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mason-knight-retired · 3 years

Text

continuation of X

The sounds of the party fade in the corridor behind them. Mason half pins, half drags Ethan towards the closest passenger cabin he had passed and noted somewhere on the periphery of his mind earlier. It’s locked but Ethan flips his omni tool and overrides it without his mouth ever leaving Mason’s skin and then they’re sealed inside.

He tugs roughly at Ethan’s jacket, not caring when the material rips and a button pops and rolls away under the strength of his hands. Ethan isn’t much better, curling blunt fingers around Mason’s pants, stripping away whatever he could until all that’s left is the shirt Mason’s fingers bunch in, hot under the hands Ethan covers his with.

For a moment, Mason thinks Ethan is helping him, plucking at the material and tugging it over his head, except that Ethan flicks his wrist in a movement too fast for Mason’s desire dulled senses to follow. The shirt loops around his arms and twists, pinning his wrists at the small of his back.

“The fuck,” he mutters, even heat flares brighter along his skin under the rough drag of Ethan’s teeth along his shoulder.

He barely has a moment to blink before Ethan’s free hand is gripping his jaw, forcing his face upwards and pinning his gaze in the full length mirror that lines the wall at the foot of the bed.

“Look,” Ethan purrs at his ear and Mason shudders with a thrill only Ethan can give him. In the reflection, his arms are pinned back and Ethan’s fingers are on his jaw. “You’re in my web now, Huntsman.”

Mason watches as Ethan noses against his jaw then runs a wide hand across Mason’s torso. He glances up, forcing Mason to meet his gaze in the mirror. Dark hair against light, Ethan’s broader shoulders behind Mason’s olive toned skin and… Fuck, Mason thinks dimly as he watches their reflections in the silvery surface. They look so fucking good together.

He must have muttered it out loud because Ethan’s lips curve upwards. Another drag of his teeth along Mason’s neck has him groaning. He’s straining in his pants but with his arms pinned behind his back and tangled in the shirt, there’s little he can do and he’s suddenly desperate for relief.

“Ethan,” he says roughly. Urgently. “Come on.”

Ethan’s laugh is low and dark and fuck, Mason loves the sound of it. “Not yet.”

“Fuck you,” Mason groans. “Either let me go or fucking do something.”

“No.”

“No?” Mason demands, incredulous.

An instinct somewhere deep makes his skin want to hum and he knows it wouldn’t take much to break of the weak confine of the material around his wrists, but there’s too much of a thrill in him that recognizes what Ethan’s doing. That he wants this.

Ethan’s eyes catch his in the mirror again. The spark of blue comes and goes quickly but it’s enough to make Mason’s body clench.

“You’d better be able to back this up, Sabre,” Mason warns him lowly, trying to inject the threat into his voice that would make other men cower.

But Ethan only laughs roughly against his ear.

“Stand down, Huntsman. My rules tonight.”

It shouldn’t thrill him like it does when Ethan drags his hand down his bare torso. He keeps one hand tangled in the material wrapped around Mason’s wrists, but his other drifts close to the unbuckled spread of Mason’s pants. He tries to shift, to somehow shimmy the material from his body, eager to get any barriers off but Ethan has him pinned too tightly.

“Ethan,” Mason warns, riding that line between aroused and merely pissed off when he can’t find any friction to ease the ache. “I swear to god-“

“My rules, Huntsman.”

“Fuck your rules.”

“No.”

Mason hisses between his teeth at yet another denial but turns his attention to the slow drag of Ethan’s hand over him, inching ever closer to the waistband of his pants. He almost sighs in relief when Ethan suddenly untangles his belt and shoves them down his thighs. Then Ethan’s hand, his wide, smooth palm, is curling around his cock.

“Yes,” Mason sighs at the warm touch. Finally!

“Open your eyes.”

Mason complies, and is greeted by the same faint blue spark in Ethan’s gaze. Ethan stands behind him, shirtless and chiselled, broad chested behind Mason’s leaner frame. He’s released the grip on Mason’s wrists but Mason doesn’t bother to tug his hands away from behind his back. He discovers he likes it. He likes the way it leaves him at Ethan’s mercy, likes the way Ethan’s hand comes up to cover his throat and squeeze gently even as Ethan’s other hand slides and swirls over the precome dribbling at the end of his cock.

It’s enough to make his knees quake.

“Ethan,” he mutters through the press against his windpipe. Ethan’s chest is hot at his back as his mouth trails kisses along his jaw. He feels his head forced to the side, then Ethan’s mouth is hot on his, tongue insistent and demanding and Mason doesn’t know where to focus on first, the delightful pull of Ethan’s strokes on his dick, or the way Ethan holds his jaw as he kisses him so hungrily.

Pleasure sparks along his skin.

After a long moment, Ethan releases his grip, leaving his cock leaking at the loss of his touch. “Shit, don’t stop,” he growls and this time he does tug at the shirt at his wrists. He’s surprised when it doesn’t give as easily as he expected.

Ethan steps out from behind Mason’s back and takes a few steps to divest himself of the rest of his clothes. Mason watches him impatiently, eyeing every line of bare skin, every dip and ridge of his muscles that catch in the low simulated candlelight of the luxury cabin.

And Ethan, knowing he’s been watched, curves his mouth in a knowing smile and moves as slow as molasses.

Mason’s frustration climbs. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like,” Ethan laughs then, that low rumble that makes Mason’s hair stand on end. This fucker. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s revelling in it.

Mason tugs at the material around his wrists and kicks at the pants around his ankles. “Take this off.”

Ethan comes to stand behind him once again, his lips at Mason’s ear. He focuses on Ethan in the mirror, eyes him warily as he leans close. Mason fights the shudder as Ethan’s warmth brushes against him and he breathes him in, the infuriatingly familiar scent of his cologne that made Mason think of too many nights like this one, too many nights at Ethan’s mercy.

He wonders briefly when it had changed. When he had suddenly become greedy and wanted more than they’d ever promised themselves they could have.

His eyes close as Ethan’s hands land on his skin once again, wide palms brushing over his torso, sweeping downwards to brush lightly against the straining flesh there. Mason was getting impatient, too eager to have Ethan’s hands on him, but unwilling to spoil the fantasy so soon.

It takes him a moment to realise Ethan is murmuring something against his skin, until he grasps Mason’s hips with curling fingers and yanks him back against him. Mason gasps and his eyes fly open at the heat grinding against his ass, and arches back greedily wanting more of it.

“So pretty, Mase,” Ethan says at his ear and then Ethan’s hand is curled around him once again. “Look how pretty you are.”

A moan falls out of Mason’s mouth as Ethan palms him, louder when he realises the slick against Ethan’s palm. How, or when, he doesn’t bother to think about, keening softly when Ethan starts to pull on him. “Fuck,” he groans over the soft croon Ethan presses into his shoulder. His legs are starting to quiver and shake and he jerks once again against the material enclosing his wrists.

Ethan laughs softly but takes his meaning and draws him back towards the bed. He shoves Mason down at the end, still in full view of the mirror, and climbs nimbly up behind him.

“You going to take this away?” Mason wriggles his shoulders. It’s not uncomfortable, but the burn against his shoulders is settling into a dull ache.

Ethan’s hand on him soon makes him forget it though.

“Perhaps,” Ethan hums noncommittally. “We’ll see.”

Mason has to bite back a growl of frustration. In the mirror, Ethan is watching him with eyes dark. He slides a hand around and grips the base of Mason’s cock again, causing Mason to gasp slightly at the contact. Fuck but he was burning, already amped up from the fight earlier, already primed with a buzz under his skin he hadn’t discharged, and with Ethan palming him so expertly in the all the ways he knew best, Mason wasn’t sure he had long before he blew.

“I’m close,” he pants before letting loose another moan when Ethan’s fingers loosen and dance up the underside of his cock. The touch is feather light and sensitive, and so not what Mason wants.

He hisses in annoyance. “Ethan, please. I need to-“

Ethan captures his mouth and presses in a long, hungry kiss. “Not yet.”

Mason swears lowly, driven too wild with heat and longing and something else that keeps scratching insistently at the edges of him. “Ethan,” he begs. “Just… I need more.”

For a heartbeat after the words tumble out of his mouth, Mason freezes but Ethan doesn’t seem to have caught the double meaning of his words, or if he has, he chooses to ignore it. Ethan seeks out his mouth again, draws him back against his chest, and then releases him only long enough to nudge his gaze to them in the mirror once again.

“More?” he says softly and his fingers pause in their dance.

“More,” Mason confirms even has his heartrate kicks up in anticipation. There’s a slight smile from Ethan as his hands curl around him and tugs upwards with a slight flick of his wrist, just the way he knows Mason likes it. “Yeah,” Mason mutters, eyelids getting heavy as Ethan’s hand works him over and pumps him faster. He doesn’t want to blink, he doesn’t want to take his eyes off their reflection, held safe with arms pinned back against Ethan’s chest, Ethan’s cheek against his as his lips whisper soft words of encouragement. Mason doesn’t want it to be over too soon but his body strains with the need to release.

“That’s it, Mase,” Ethan’s tone grows softer. “You look so good in my hand. You look so good with your arms behind your back, at my mercy…”

The whispered praise sends something sparking along his spine and Mason shudders in spite of himself. Ethan’s voice hits a tenor that sneaks past his defences and settles in his bones. He shudders weakly, gasps once and then hot, white ropes splash onto the silver surface as tremors of pleasure echo through him, all the while Ethan coaxes him through it.

He doesn’t release Mason until his breathing levels out and when he does, it’s only long enough to release Mason’s arms from behind his back and use the shirt to clean him up.

Mason blinks at him blearily. “What the hell was that?”

Ethan throws the crumpled shirt somewhere in the vicinity of the suite’s bathroom before he comes to comes to kneel before Mason on the floor. He doesn’t think to resist when Ethan pushes his knees apart and slowly runs his hands up the insides of his thighs before pressing a kiss to the centre of Mason’s chest.

Mason tries to not to notice how it’s right above his heart.

“Ethan…”

“Round one,” Ethan tells him and then Mason can’t say anything more at all.

#ethan sinclair #mason knight #mase just really needed some attention from his man ok #its self indulgent hours again #*whispers* im sorry if its corny im so rusty

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goldpilot22 · 3 years

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break your leg become a god simulator going well

#psii.txt #my ocs #not my art it's all rpgmaker default assets #revenance #Adelaide #video

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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

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Coffee, crushes and Complications Prequel

This was prompted by an amazing anon! just a warning, this short got dark real quick. So please, heed the warnings and stay safe! It has a happy ending, but I have said in the other parts Gavin hit rock bottom, so I had to make him hit rock bottom. He does recover in the end and gets back on track that has him being happy as we know from part 1 and 2. It’s just a hard contrast, therefore I wanted to warn you. I hope you still enjoy heavy angst!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Characters: Gavin Reed, Tina Chen (Warnings: depression, description of depressive behaviours, Character thinks about suicide, implied suicide attempt (that doesn’t happen, not even the attempt!), suicidal thoughts) If you want to skip the suicide related part skip from “It was two weeks...” to “Tina! Tina, don’t say anything!”

[Part1] [Part2] [Part3] [Part4]

‚Hey, Boss, what’s up?‘ Gavin marched into Fowlers office with a grin and a spring in his step. He had all his cases solved in record time and had finally endured the cry-babies of machines that had come in lately with stories of assault and attempted murder. What had they expected simply stopping to work to looked like? But he had done nothing wrong, at least nothing Fowler could prove, and that was the most important thing. ‘You are fired, Gavin.’ Gavin blinked. He must have misheard something. ‘The phck?’ ‘You are fired, Detective Reed. Hand in your badge and pistol and pack your things.’ ‘What? Why?’ ‘Why?!’ Fowler stood up and leaned over the table. ‘You really even dare to ask that?’ ‘Errr…. Yes?’ ‘Well, then sit down and get comfortable, because I have a whole fucking list!’, the Captain shouted. ‘And I finally can say what I wanted to tell you for so long, because I will finally get rid of you now!’ Gavin did sit down, but not because he wanted to. His knees had suddenly failed him.

‘First of all: You are a real asshole.’ ‘Yes, I know but-‘ ‘I don’t mean it in a funny way!’, Fowler interrupted. ‘You are a true asshole. A bad person. You treat your co-workers as if they personally attacked you. You are unable to work in a team without sabotaging the whole mission for your benefit. You actively try to make others look worse than you are so you seem like the best one. You are so obsessed with getting promoted you fail to do your work, you are constantly breaking protocol and don’t think I didn’t realise! I did. I just never said anything because, shit, sometimes that was an advantage. But this was the final misstep, Reed! I can’t tolerate your shit any longer!’ Gavin swallowed, then threatened: ‘And what should that be exactly?’ He let his anger speak for himself, but deep inside his guts had twisted into a tight ball.

Fowler leaned back. ‘Your anti-android behaviour. Fucking hell, I thought you would learn with time. I thought you would catch up to the others. But no, you continue calling androids names, calling them “it” instead of he, she or they and treating them like malfunctioning machines. These people come to us for help and you laugh them in the face!’ Gavin huffed amused, then outright laughed in Fowler’s face. ‘Captain, that’s a good joke. You don’t actually believe… They are not human. They will never be. Phck, I wouldn’t even consider them persons. They are some fancy part of machinery, so complexly programmed that maybe they even believe themselves to be persons. But they are not! They are objects, robots. And some fancy revolution and new laws can’t change that simple fact!’ ‘And that’s why I have to fire you. I can’t have you interrogating someone knowing you will personally dismantle them if they don’t talk! They are machines. But they are persons too. And you have to respect that. Fuck, Gavin, what did you think?’ ‘I thought and still think they are not alive. It doesn’t matter what you do to them, it’s just simulated. They don’t feel a thing.’ ‘Are you really sure about that?’, Fowler asked, weirdly calm considering he had been furious just before. ‘Even after Connor?’ ‘Connor is a big reason for me being absolutely certain’, Gavin said.

‘Then hand in your badge and service weapon.’ Gavin stared at the outstretched palm. ‘Oh, come on, Jeffrey, you can’t do this to me. I’m your best man!’ ‘I can, I will and I must. And you haven’t been my best officer for a long time. Hank is back – thanks to that apparently lifeless android Connor – and the RK800 is the best Detective you can wish for. Now, I won’t repeat myself.’ Gavin was sitting there completely numb. He didn’t even have energy left in him to complain and that was saying something. He pulled his pistol out of the holster and handed it over, before unclipping his badge. He looked down on the polished metal with his name on it and thought back to the day he had been handed it. How proud he had been. How much of his pride still was engraved in this piece of metal. He had worked hard for this and by now… Shit, this little piece of leather and metal basically was his whole identity. He pushed his thumb over the letters. G. Reed.

‘The badge, Reed.’ He blinked, took a deep breath, held it and pressed the badge into Fowler’s hand. Then he stood up and pressed out: ‘That’s all?’ ‘That’s all.’ Gavin contemplated saying something. Something witty maybe, or something mean, something that would hurt and gave him that little satisfaction of revenge, even if it didn’t mean much. But he couldn’t think of anything, his head was filled with cotton and everything tingled with numbness. So, he just nodded and left, trying to keep up his composure. It was hard without the added weight on his hip that had made his step a bit broader than it normally was. He stared at the ground not to have to look into their faces. Would they laugh? Would they care? Or worse: would they pity him? Whatever they might feel towards him leaving, he couldn’t face it and so he just took what little possessions he had decorated his table with and left. ‘Hey, Gavin, what’s-‘ That was Tina, but Gavin had already passed the security gates and as soon as he was outside the building he ran to his car, dropping his things on the passenger seat and starting the engine to speed off. He was just moments away from a total breakdown, the fact that others might see him and that he couldn’t drive in that state the only thing keeping his composure up. He parked the car messily in front of his apartment, took his things and stumbled up the stairs in a hurry. He barely managed to unlock the door, dropping his keys once and failing to pick them up first try as his eyes had blurred over.

Then finally he was inside, had closed the door and dropped his things on his sideboard, before leaning on it heavily finally allowing his feelings to spill over. He knelt in front of the small wooden furniture, his hands holding onto the edge to keep him steady somewhere. How could this happen? He was untouchable. He was good at his job. He was damn good at his job. He wasn’t good at anything else. He had only ever been a Detective and… Oh god, he didn’t have a job anymore. He wouldn’t be able to pay his rent. He could make it a few months, but he would have to find something else soon and oh god, what if he had to give his cat away and phck he didn’t have a job anymore and… Did the whole world hate him?

He half kneeled, half sat there, crying, his stomach cramping and heaving and trying to keep his meal down through it all. His shoulders shook and he didn’t trust his hands or his legs for that matter. Standing up was out of question. He crawled over to the wall to prep himself up against it and the sideboard, that was about all he did that day, crying until no more tears would come, his nose was hurting and the muscles of his abdomen aching from overuse. He was thirsty, but at the same time it didn’t matter. He was cold but hell, what did that mean? He needed a shower to get out of his partially wet clothes and maybe feel human again. But he knew he wouldn’t even make it to the living room. So why bother? He didn’t move and tried not to think.

He woke up still in the same position and sat up with his back cracking. Something warm shifted against his legs and stretched. He looked down on his cat, who looked up to him as if asking why her human was so upset. ‘I phcked up, Bready. I’m sorry.’ He scratched her behind the ears. ‘And I haven’t given you anything yet, have I? Sorry. You must be starving. Come on, daddy will get you something.’ With that he finally managed to stand up, but still had to lean against the wall, waiting for his circulation to catch up. He carried himself into the kitchen, gave Bready her food and threw himself a frozen pizza into the oven not wanting any poor delivery guy to see him like this.

He rubbed his forehead that by now hurt like a thousand needles from his dehydration headache. So, he opened the fridge and his eyes fell on his liquor collection. Should he… But it would only make things worse. Could things go worse? To be honest, he just wanted to sleep. He should save the alcohol for tomorrow when he would need it. He ate his pizza, drank his water, forced himself to take a shower and dropped into bed. Maybe this was all just a bad dream.

It wasn’t. He was awoken by his alarm, had sat up and halfway left the bed as he remembered that right, no work to go to. Rubbing his face and scrunching it up as he rested his face in his hand, he thought about what to do. In the end he did stand up to give Bready her food and retreat back to bed. She soon joined him, a welcome weight against his legs. As he woke up hours later, she was still there, and Gavin watched her for a while. Damn, why couldn’t he have been born a fat, carefree housecat? He fetched his phone, tried to switch it on and sighed as it wouldn’t. He struggled to get the charger out without disturbing Bready. When he finally could switch on his phone, he immediately was bombarded with messages and missed calls from Tina. He read over them but deleted the notifications from the calls and left her on read. He didn’t feel like talking. He didn’t feel like anything at all. In the end he flicked through the same apps on his phone, fell asleep and circled them through again once he woke up. He stood up to get his cat some food, then went straight to bed. He didn’t want to eat, so he didn’t.

The next day he managed to eat breakfast, but only because he had switched off his alarm and his cat woke him up with screaming. He threw some water in his face, then returned to bed. Tina had called again. Had messaged too. Gavin put his phone on his nightstand face down.

In the evening he couldn’t lie in bed anymore, never feeling comfortable and always sore. He faced his fridge again and took the next-best bottle. When he fell asleep on the couch hours later it was empty.

The hangover was hard, but Gavin liked the sobering pain. He didn’t like throwing up in the toilet first thing in the morning though. He skipped breakfast and lunch lying in bed. As Tina had called for the millionth time, he finally got the energy to answer the call, shout: ‘Phck off, don’t wanna talk!’ into the mic and drop it back down. Dinner was some instant noodles. With lots of alcohol.

When the weekend came, his reserves had been depleted. He was left to water and stale coke. Maybe that was something good? Gavin didn’t think in these categories anymore. Then the doorbell rang. And it rang again. And again. Gavin would have appreciated it staying this way of it ringing and him not answering, but then the call came from outside: ‘Gavin, you absolute fuck, I know you are home and you know I will kick down this door, now open up before you have to pay for a new door and lock without a job!’ Way to go Tina. Gavin just sighed, but obeyed, opening the door. He had planned to tell her to go, but she somehow already had made it past his sluggish reflexes. ‘Holy fuck it reeks!’ The first thing she did was opening the windows, letting in fresh air. ‘How the fuck did you live like this?’, she asked pointing at the dirty plates on the floor. ‘And fucking hell, you look like death!’ Gavin just shrugged. ‘Feel like death too.’ She took him by the back of his shirt and pushed him towards the bathroom. ‘You will take a shower and if I have to watch you do it!’ Gavin tried to protest, but somehow he was already standing under the stream fully clothed. His hoodie began to weigh him down, but he didn’t care. ‘Gavin, I won’t mother you. You will get out of your clothes on your own. Call me if you need anything, I will cook you something.’ Gavin shook his head violently. ‘Tina!’ She turned around to look him in the eyes sternly. ‘You should go. I need more time.’ ‘You got plenty of time. I won’t let you destroy yourself like this! You got fired. That’s all. No one died. No one is ill. You will find a new job and better days will come.’ ‘Someone died’, Gavin disagreed. ‘I did. I died when I handed in that badge, Tina.’ ‘Oh fuck off you melodramatic asshole. I am speaking to you right now. So you fucking are alive and need to wash yourself. And you need food, so I will cook. And then we will talk.’

She had left, but Gavin still winced as if she had struck him with a knife. Talk. Oh, please, anything but that.

‘Any plans what to do now?’ ‘Any idea what kind of job you would like?’ ‘How about going out to a movie tomorrow?’ ‘Gavin, fucking talk to me!’ Gavin swallowed hard. ‘You should leave, really. Thanks for the food and for kicking my ass, but I’m not ready yet. This job was all I ever wanted and all I ever had.’ ‘Bullshit.’ ‘No! No bullshit! For once I’m completely serious Tina! What do you think I have except for it? Everyone phcking hates me, I can’t do anything else and I don’t have anyone to help me! All I have is this flat and my useless phcking cat! I. Have. Nothing! And I’m sorry if a few nice words from pity-party Tina won’t suddenly make me function again!’ ‘Pity-party?’ ‘That’s what this is, isn’t it?’, Gavin shouted. ‘You secretly enjoy it, don’t you? Oh, look someone that has phcked up! Let’s pretend we actually like the guy and don’t just profit from him! Then we can say: see? See how he got better? That was me!’ ‘Gavin!’ ‘What?’, Gavin spat back. ‘Tell me that’s not what you are trying to do! Tell me you mean it, it will be a real nice joke, I can tell you that!’

Tina stood up and in exactly that moment, Gavin had realised he had made a mistake. Another mistake. He had wanted to be angry, about who and what didn’t matter. But well, it did. ‘You know what, Gavin Reed? I’ve been your friend for a long time. Do you really think I listen to an asshole like you, to talks like this and fake being your friend? What weird twist of logic is that? I wanted to help! I really wanted to. But if this is how you respond to that, I clearly wasted my time! Goodbye.’

And Gavin’s days turned back to lying in bed with his cat and stupid phone games, getting up only when he needed to pee, when Bready needed food or when he couldn’t postpone eating any longer himself. One day he actually went out to get some canned food that was easy to prepare, food for Bready and alcohol. Lots of alcohol.

It was two weeks after he had been fired, that he sat in the corner of the living room, a bottle next to him and the shards of a broken glass in his hand, that he carefully pulled out. He didn’t even feel the pain. Not really. Should he… It was tempting. He had no one, he had no job, no goals… Was it even worth it? He had looked far too long at the blood pooling in his hand and the largest shard in his other. It was just a movement after all. But then Bready’s head suddenly appeared and Gavin cursed. ‘No, bad! Shoo! This is dangerous! Damn cat!’ He let the shard fall to the ground and picked up his cat with his uninjured hand, carrying her over to the kitchen and keeping her busy with some treats. Once he was sure she was occupied, he returned to his corner outfitted with a dustpan to pick up the shards so Bready couldn’t step in them.

Only when he saw the bloody shards, he flinched back. He had seen these pictures far too often. Had filed them away as evidence. Had asked himself how people could do something like this, often leaving family and friends behind. And now… Phck no! Phck no, not him! He wouldn’t… He had always been a fighter, hadn’t he? Then why had he given up just moments ago? No, he wouldn’t… He would. He would finally get his ass up and act! What had Tina done last weekend? What had she done…

Open the windows. He retraced her steps after he had gotten rid of the shards and bandaged his hand. He opened the windows, looked to the ground and fetched the dirty plates. He put them in the dishwasher. He cuddled his phcking lifesaver of a cat extra-long and took a shower – this time without his clothes. Then he took his phone from the shelf he had put it on to ignore it and sat down on the couch. He dialled the number on autopilot and waited until he got an answer. It didn’t take long.

‘Tina! Tina, don’t say anything! I don’t know if I can build up this courage again if you say something. Just listen, please. I was an idiot. I was a total asshole to you, and I understand you completely if you don’t want to talk to me or ever see me again. But I really need your help and I want to make up to the terrible things I said to you. I may not have much left, but I have my fantastic cat, I am still alive, and I hope I still have you. I need someone to kick my ass and I know you are best in that. I need you right now. I want to look for a new job, I want to start again, and I don’t want to lose you as my friend.’ He pressed his eyes closed and waited for an answer. ‘Tina?’ ‘What? You told me to shut up and listen! I’m already on my way over to your place with job offers from a few newspapers, you giant asshole. Should I get takeout? Are you hungry?’ ‘You are not mad?’ ‘Oh, believe me, I am mad. But I am also proud of you, Gavin. And if you think you can get rid of me, you don’t know me!’ Gavin audibly exhaled. ‘Oh, Tina, I don’t know what I would do without you.’ ‘Yeah, sometimes I wonder, too. I’ll hang up now, okay? Gotta go place our order. Just wait for me, okay? We’ll fix this shithole of a situation you are in in no time, believe me!’

Gavin smiled, the first time in two weeks. The call had already ended, but he still whispered: ‘Yes. I believe you.’

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Gavin Reed #Tina Chen #I cried two times while writing this story #bonus points to the person who finds out where XD #Dont worry I'm good I like writing angst but aaaaaaaaaa #might overdid it with this...

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imaginesmai · 4 years

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Chris Evans-Bananas

I’ve see the new interview of Christ talking about how he wants to start a family and all that stuff; and I just find it so cute that I couldn’t help myself!

Plot: your daughter seems to have a strange fixation with bananas.

Chris turned his head for half a second, he swore. He just wanted to finish the dishes from the previous night, that laid forgotten for most of the day. He knew you were busy with your new project, and he just wanted to help. However, little Claire didn’t like that, and as soon as her dad’s attention wasn’t on her, she made the mess.

“Claire” Chris sighed, already picking up the red cloth. “You’re a menace”

Slowly, Chris bent down to pick up the plastic bowl off the floor. He looked towards her daughter, who was fidgeting and mumbling incoherently in her height chair. That, as the rest of the things she used, was themed as Captain America.

“It’s a good thing that I didn’t put any banana in this bowl, yet, hm?” Chris placed the bowl in front of Claire and watched as her little meaty hands swatted the bowl away. “You know? I don’t like the game you’re playing.”

Claire smiled and erupted in a small fit of laughter, making Chris forget about his annoyance. For years, he had tried for a baby with you. He had seen all of his friends form a family, and he dreamed with the day he had one of his one. Then, he met you, beautiful girl who worked with Robert Downey and asked you out. Two years later, the pink stick came and nine months after that Claire was born, with the mission of making her father’s back hurt as much as she could.

While Chris bended once more to pick the bowl, the baby babbled on the chair and let the drool travel down her chin. She rested her small head on the table, and looked at Chris while sucking on most on her fingers. Said man put the bowl on in front of her, only to catch it as the baby threw it to the ground.

Once more, she broke into giggles.

“Morning”

At your voice, both Claire’s and Chris’ head turned towards the door, where you had entered. You were still wearing your pyjamas, and rubbing one of your eyes with a closed fist. Sometimes, Chris wondered how he had gotten that lucky.

The small distraction had your daughter throwing the ball to the ground again, clapping excitedly when it made a loud noise.

“Y/N” Chris said as you walked into the kitchen. “Your daughter is laughing at me”

“So now she’s my daughter?” you joked as you walked over to her, and bent down so you were at the same level. Chris picked up the bowl and placed it on the counter top, away from her grabby hands. “Did daddy say something funny? Uh? Did daddy do something funny? What did daddy do?”

You talked to her in a high pitched voice, making a very giggly Claire turn into a squirming mess. Reaching your hands under the plastic tray in the height chair, you started tickling your daughter’s belly.

“Daddy told her he doesn’t like her bowl throwing game” he sighed as he grabbed a banana. You fake pouted at your baby, stopping your tickling attack.

“Mommy doesn’t like that game either”

Suddenly, Claire stopped laughed and soon her eyes began to fill with tears, and the air was pierced with a high pitched whine, that would probably break into a sob. If there was something that Claire had inherited from her father was his huge range of emotion, from happiness and joy to being too sensible over certain things. As her parents saying that they didn’t like what she was doing.

“No sweetie, don’t cry” you shushed her, cleaning with your thumb the first tear. “We’re not mad, Claire”

Chris moved quickly from where he was preparing the bowl with the bananas, and appeared by the other side of the chair. He showed the banana to his daughter, simulating that it was a happy smile on your face, then doing the same with his. It took a while of Chris’ goofing around with the banana and tickles from you to stop her from crying. Still, she had tears on her cheeks.

He placed the spoon with a small piece of mashed bananas in front of her face. She looked at it curiously before tentatively sticking her tongue to touch it. Once her tongue made contact with the squished fruit, it quickly recoiled back into her mouth.

“Baby, you like bananas” you frowned. Claire, stubborn as always, pushed her face away from the spoon.

“Care for a try?” Chris asked you.

With very exaggerated motions, you took the spoon from him and placed it over your mouth, making dramatic noises. You didn’t know where Claire had learned that, but she ate much better if she saw any of you eating what she had. She looked at the food as it disappeared in your mouth, and watched you eat with her mouth open.

“That was delicious!” you scooped a bit more from the bowl and put it on the spoon, offering it to Claire. She pushed her head in the other direction.

Chris had to take two spoons of his own of smashed banana, and you had to exaggerate a little bit more before Claire grew interested in the food. The third time Chris was going to pu the spoon on his mouth, she opened hers.

He chuckled before putting the end of the spoon on her mouth. It took a few minutes, but she finally swallowed the little bit of banana and opened her mouth for more.

And the next morning, Chris spooned Claire some mashed banana at breakfast, while you made coffee.

And the day after that.

And the day after that, and so on and so forth.

Bananas’ then became Claire favourite food. If she wasn’t having it for breakfast, she would cry her lungs out until Chris had tears on his eyes, and would almost push the fruit into her mouth. If she was, by any chance, in the kitchen and next to the counter, she would stretch her little leg and try to reach for the fruit.

One morning, while you were feeding her, Chris walked into the kitchen carrying a Babies R Us bag in his hands.

“I’ve got Claire a little present” he said as he pulled a onesie out of the bag. It had a white background and had a bunch of tiny banana’s decorated all over it.

You chuckled and left the bowl on the table, stepping forward to take the piece of clothe from him. It was, as all the babies’ clothes, too cute for your being, and you smiled. Chris stole a quick kiss before pulling it back on the bag.

“Theirs is more” he searched the bottom of the bag before taking out a push banana doll, with little legs sticking out the bottom of it. On the top of the banana was a sewn-on pair of eyes and a smile. “I think it wants a hug”

“It’s diabolic” you muttered, looking horrified at the little toy. It seems as if it would murder you in your sleep. “Where did you get it?”

“Target. It was on the dog’s section, but it’s worthy! Look how cute-“

Chris was interrupted when Claire opened her mouth and pretty much yelled ‘Ba’na’.

You both looked at each other and then down at Claire, whose hands were stretched ou trying to grab the plushie in Chris’ hands. She had banana all over herself; on her mouth, fingers, cheeks and clothes; and you bet your ass she knew what she was asking for.

Smacking one little hand on the high desk and almost throwing the bowl off, she screamed again, looking at you before stretching her arms.

“Did – did she, that was…?”

“I think she did” you confirmed, giggling a little.

Neither of you moved until Claire started fussing too much over wanting the new toy, her eyes becoming glossy and her ears red. She shirked and screamed for the banana toy, the bowl finally clattering to the ground. That was what made Chris place the doll in Claire’s hands; then, he engulfed you in a hug and pulled you off the ground.

“She talked! She said her first word!” he laughed, and squeezed you tighter. “Oh my god, se need her book of firsts! We have to write this down!”

As fast as he had hoisted you up, he left you with a babbling baby to rush to the bedroom. You got to see Claire repeating over and over the same words while playing with the banana around, not even attempting in taking back the bowl.

“Got it!” he yelled, running back to the kitchen.

For the next thirty minutes, your morning turned into the most special day of your lives. Claire must have picked on the excitement, because she giggled, laughed, and kissed your cheeks the best she could while playing with her new toy. You took photos of her playing, of Chris feeding her, and he filmed her repeating the same word for two minutes.

You watched as your daughter’s eyes lit up every time Chris pretended to hide the toy and pull it back, smashing it against her little face and making her shake with laughter.

Who would have guessed such a simple fruit could bring so much joy to your lives.

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neocity-sarai · 4 years

Text

Simulations [PART 1]

❃ pairing: reader x mark lee (divergent! au)

❃ alerts: making out, suggestive content, language, violence/ injuries, blood, angst

❃ song rec: find you by zedd ft matthew koma

You remember it all. You remember the morning of your choosing ceremony, the way your parents and brother smiled at you when your crimson blood fizzled into the bowl of burnt coal.

Dauntless. You were born and raised in Dauntless, the faction of the brave- the faction of teetering between life and death. You were sure of yourself, you would climb the ranks like rungs of a ladder. And that- you did. You trained as an initiate soldier under the leaders until you rose to the top of your class. When it was time, the faction held a ceremony for inducting you into their ranks- you were one of Dauntless’s fearless leaders now. You’d walk among your mentors as equals instead of their student. Looking back on how you were as an initiate, you were scrawny. You didn’t have much muscle on you, you had no idea how to shoot or how to engage in combat. The amount of times you cried out of frustration, staying up late in the training ring just to improve. Luckily, you had Mark. Mark was the same age as you when you were initiates, his frame only a little bigger than yours. His family lived in the same sector as you. He was always sweet. The familiarity of his doe eyes and carved cheekbones, the way that his bangs flopped flat a little over his eyes. When your instructor assigned you both as combat partners, Mark held your waist firm as he helped you strike the punching bag in front of you.

You remembered the way his warm breath fanned on your neck and how your skin felt aflame to his touch. Many nights, you spent sparing with each other and downing energy drinks until the break of dawn. You felt yourself trusting Mark more than you had expected yourself to, his giggly outbursts made you smile and it felt like you weren’t alone. You endured every struggle together. Even when the other girls picked on you for being weaker or for latching on to Mark, he always defended you no matter what. After a couple years, you realized you watched Mark mature into the man he is today. His build is packed with toned muscle, and his hair curls over his forehead artistically- his hands covered in scars and old bruises. His face has gotten sharper too, his jaw tenses when he’s concentrated on something and his eyes glint with obsidian fire during training. Mark knows when the stand firm, rather than being an innocent, laughing mess- his demeanor morphs into something more powerful. It is no surprise that you two had surged to the top, being chosen as Dauntless’s’ next leadership. Though, Mark still treated you like a longtime friend of his, his cheeks still redden when your brush hands.

[4:00 PM]

Before you could become fully deemed as leaders, you both had to undergo one last test. You and Mark would have to do a partner simulation, a board derived from all the other factions watching you both with hawk eyes. You were lead into a blank room, the walls empty of any words or any decor as you were motioned to sit in a chair next to Mark. The Erudite woman who had pale skin and ocean eyes glared at you before attaching neuro-nodes to your temples- the wires connecting over to Mark. With no emotion, her voice cold, “Lean back.”

You look at Mark beside you, “Are you ready for this?”

He answers you in a soft tone, “If you are.”

Nodding, the woman jabs a syringe of violet liquid into the juncture of your neck, a wave of vertigo taking over your brain. You can’t feel your fingers and your eyelids feel heavy, all you can hear is Mark’s groan in the room.

When you open your eyes, you find yourself in a room of mirrors. The ground feels cold underneath your back- Mark isn’t beside you either.

“Mark? Where are you?”

Looking around, you only see reflections of yourself- multiple views making you dizzy. For a few moments, you hear Mark’s stern voice, “Y/n? Hello?”

“Mark I’m over here!”

“Hello?? Y/n?”

Mark can’t hear you. He can’t even see you. You rise from the ground, your knees shaking as you continue to call for Mark. Your heart sinks when you start to hear a low gear-grinding sound, the mirror walls are starting to enclose in you. That’s right, you were afraid of tight spaces. You heave in and out of your chest in order to try to calm yourself, your legs shaking uncontrollably. The walls are closing incredibly fast. You run across the floor, mirrors chasing you and glaring at you wherever you ran. You scream for Mark.

“Where are you?! Mark?! Help me!!”

Finally, you catch a glimpse of Mark in a corner mirror yet his actual body is nowhere to be seen. You scream for him to not move. All he can do is yell out your name, his brows furrowed with anguish. In a quickened speed, the mirrors start to buckle down towards you- noises screeching into your eardrums. You have to do something. When you turn around, three items lay on three pedestals: a baseball bat, a nail and hammer, and a lighter. Without hesitation, you’re immediately drawn to the baseball bat. Tossing it in your hand, you swing it into the mirror in front of you as hard as you can. The impact makes an ear-deafening sound, the mirror shatters into a thousand shards- some of them flying to nick your face. Through the mirror, Mark stands with a shocked look on his face, “Y/n?”

You practically trip through the mirror, you feel yourself falling before you can even reach out for Mark.

“Y/n! Wait!”

You’re falling- your eyes opening slightly to the ceiling of the white room that you’re sitting in before shutting your eyes again. This time, you’re standing in a field of buckwheat by the faction border, the gate that surrounds the entirety of the city grounds. You feel Mark’s frame bump against your back as he jolts from the contact.

“Y/n- oh god, you scared me.”

You throw your arms around him in response, his words coming out in a flurry of stutters, “That was close, wasn’t it?”

You nuzzle into the crook of his shoulder, “I thought I couldn’t find you and the walls were closing in and I had no-.”

Before he can pull you tighter against his chest, you hear a low grumble come from behind you. In an instant, you detach from Mark, turning to face a bloodthirsty carnivore a few feet away. You’re back to back again, one wolf threatening to leap at you in a few seconds, one other wolf in front of Mark as well. Mark tries coaxing the wolf, saliva dripping from the edges of it’s gleaming teeth. When you look beside you, there’s two pedestals to your right and two pedestals next to Mark as well. Your eyes glaze over the pound of steak that sits on the surface yet you grab the small handgun instead. You assume Mark does the same because you hear him click the safety off.

Your breath turns shaky, your heart is beating out of your chest. You’ve learned to shoot but you’ve never shot an animal before. Mark turns his head to the side to talk to you, “On three okay? I’m right here, don’t be afraid.”

You suck in air into the chamber of your lungs, cocking your gun before the growling wolf, it’s eyes like shiny, yellow orbs.

Like a slow, painful countdown, Mark begins, “1...2...3.”

You shoot together, bullets ringing in the air as you feel the blow all the way down to your bones. It knocks you off your feet in time for Mark to steady you with his arms.

“It’s over now. It’s over.” he says. Mark was tough but he never wanted to kill.

You squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to see the carcasses of the two wolves- the smell of blood wafting below your nostrils. You feel sick. When you don’t open your eyes, you feel warmth disappear from your body as you hear Mark calling your name. Suddenly, you feel yourself becoming submerged in icy water, your lungs screaming for air. Opening your eyes, all you see is the murk of the water, you don’t feel Mark next to you. Swimming to the surface, the weight of your water-logged clothes feels as heavy as gold bars. Coughing, you swivel around for any sign of Mark. You’re in the middle of the ocean, the sky is a stormy sage color as ash gray clouds swirl into a cyclone. It reminds you of the story your mother told you as a child: a pirate who was lost at sea, trying to navigate the high waters in search of treasure.

You scream Mark’s name as loud as you can, struggling to stay afloat. There’s no answer. You decide to dive back into the depths of the ocean, swimming downwards to get a better view. When you catch a shadow sinking to the bottom, you immediately recognize Mark’s body. You waste no time to heave him closer to you, kicking your legs until you reach the surface. Holding Mark’s body is difficult, his eyes are peacefully closed as his hair lays soggy against his forehead. You rub your thumb against Mark’s cheek, “Mark? Wake up! Mark?”

He doesn’t answer you, his head falls limp in your touch. Why wasn’t he conscious? What should you do? You look around, your body freezing from the icy temperature when you don’t see any nearby land. Your limbs go numb. Despite the freezing pain, you grip onto Mark’s jacket, both of your bodies slowly losing traction. You’re both sinking. When you’re down under, you feel your breath hitch. Is this the end? Will the simulation fry your brain? Will you drown and lose everything? Mark’s always had the fear of drowning. He’s mentioned that ever since he had an incident of falling into the river.

Finally, you feel the ocean fall away. Your hair and your clothes are still wet yet you feel yourself sitting on a windy terrace. You’re high up on a skyscraper, the cold wind blowing at your face and it makes you shiver. You feel Mark rest his head on your chest, you’re still cradling him. Sweeping wet hair out of his eyes, you swipe your thumb on his cheek, “Mark? Are you awake?”

He flutters his lashes a bit, his eyes opening to adjust to his surroundings.

“Y/n? Where are we? What happened?”

You turn to look behind you, the terrace dropping down into the city grounds. You were sure you were at least on the 50th story of a tower. You feel petralized in fear, you never liked heights either. This was the simulation test- the test of fears and what you would do to overcome them. Or in a corrected term, manipulate them.

“Hey, look at me.”

You snap up to face Mark, his endearing eyes boring into yours, “We’re in this together. Just like always.”

Nodding at him, you whisper, “Right. Together.”

The tight beam that extends from the terrace you both sat on to the platform by the next building over does not go unnoticed by you. You feel like you want to throw up, “They don’t expect us to cross do they?”

Mark huffs as he runs a hand through his jet-black hair, “I think that’s why they put us right in front of it.”

Mark stands up first, placing his foot onto the concrete beam to check its sturdiness. It doesn’t seem to move. You see Mark turn back to you, the wind rustling his hair and his jacket, “I’ll be with you the whole way. Don’t look down and keep your eyes on me.”

In that moment, you questioned if you ever fit into dauntless. I mean, you had to if you got this far. You always admire Mark for his strength and his bravery, could you be like him? Mark goes first, one foot in front of the other as he attempts to shuffle along the concrete beam. He fastens the balls of his feet to the ground in hopes the gusts won’t send him falling to his death. Your heart pings, a tear threatening to slip out of your eyes. You place one foot onto the beam, your other foot still on the terrace. Mark calls out for you, “Slow and steady. Take your time.”

You feel your knees wobble like jello, you’re afraid that they’ll give out any minute. Placing your hand on your chest, you bite the drawstring of your jacket in order to calm yourself. The drop below you looks extremely menacing, you can even see all the roads that line the ground under you. Immediately, you feel the beam shake from the movement of the wind against it. You try to hold your ground, steadying your feet on the thin beam. You miscalculated. You miss-stepped. You don’t even register when blood-curdling cries escape from your throat as you lose your footing and tumble off the beam. Mark’s figure screaming for you grows smaller and smaller as you fall away. You shut your eyes, is this it? The wind surges through every layer of fabric that covers you, hair whipping against your face painfully.

That’s when you feel a body hug you, arms wrapping around your frame. Mark screams, his chin resting on your shoulder. He says, “I’m not letting you go!”

That’s the tightest you ever have held Mark. You take in his scent, his locks brushing against your eyes- the feeling of his arms encasing your body. You give him a comforting squeeze, “You should’ve gone on without me.”

When you’re sure that you’re about to collide with the ground, you hear an applause. You hear an audience clapping for you and Mark after you gasp up from the chair you sat in, you claw for air. Mark does the same, his chest heaving violently as sweat trails down his face. The erudite woman strips off your neuronodes, clicking her tongue at the both of you.

“Did we fail?” You hear Mark ask her.

With the same emotionless voice, she says, “That you’ll have to find out.”

The woman leads you both to an open auditorium, numerous stands of screens reside in the center of the room. On the jumbotron, it reads: “Congratulations. Welcome to Dauntless Leadership.”

You feel Mark grab your hand out of shock, “We passed?”

The first person to approach you is Taeyong, one of the mentors who oversaw you and Mark during training. A wide smile extends from one ear to the other as he motions you both into his arms, “Congrats you two. You’re officially dauntless leaders now.”

You eye Mark with surprise, your jaw open, “But we didn’t make it across. I fell?”

“That might be true but Dauntless is about courageous sacrifice. It’s about loyalty.” You snap up your eyes to a woman, one taller than Taeyong. Judging by her silver uniform, her tattooed head, and her gorgeous green eyes, she must be one of the higher ups. She shakes your hand first, “You two make a good team, sacrificing life in order to follow your principles for the other person. We need kids like you.”

Mark exhales, “No way.”

Taeyong pulls you both into a group hug, “We’re gonna be celebrating tonight!”

When Taeyong lets go, Mark swings you in his embrace, “We did it!”

You smile at him, “You saved me Mark.”

Mark grins until his cheeks rise, “No, I just did what I needed to in the moment.”

“But you could have crossed without me!”

Shaking his head, Mark stiffens, “Didn’t I say earlier? I wasn’t going to let you go.”

[8:00 PM]

That night, the party went on for hours. The Dauntless Pit is what they called it- the deep cavern where all the excitement happened. Tables were filled with feats of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, leaders and initiates filling their plates with the morsels. Once you claimed your portion of food, you sat next to Mark towards the end of one table. He grinned at you, sipping his metal cup of orange juice. Taeyong made a cheers to the both of you, the dauntless leaders banging their cups to the table like a mantra- a sign of respect and honor. Some of the younger kids you supervised training for congratulated you too, you remember how the girls made puppy eyes at Mark. Of course, he was oblivious to it. Laughing, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You are met with a view of Lucas, one of your other comrades, “Y/n! Mark! I was just looking for you! What do you say to a good ol’ game of capture the flag?”

You raise your eyebrows at Lucas, “I’m fine with it if Mark’s okay with it.”

Mark nods, setting his cup down, “Let’s do it. We can go right now.”

Like that, everything felt like it was falling into place. You adjusted the strap of your dart gun that was slung around your shoulder, advising your team of a plan. Naturally, you were the team captain for one group and Mark the other. You saw him a formidable opponent as he knew your most used attacks and you knew his. Lucas laughed beside you, his gummy smile widening, “Mark’s gonna lose tonight!”

You nod, “Let’s beat him first. We can’t get too ahead ourselves.”

When it was time to go, you and Lucas led your team of initiates to the metal train. One by one, you ran with the train cars as they shook on their wheels that screeched against the tracks. You hoisted yourself into the door with ease, something you had trouble with when you first became an initiate. By the time your team made it on, Mark and his group had already packed themselves into the train. Mark gives you a smirk, “Just because we’re friends, it doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.”

You cackle, socking a punch into his clothed shoulder, “Don’t get too cocky Lee.”

Turning away, you see Lucas and Selene, one of your friends as well. Lucas whispers into her ear, “Are you sure they’re not dating yet?”

Selene giggles, a blush climbing up her cheeks. You make sure to shoot ice daggers from your eyes to Lucas and Serene while you mutter at them.

“Quit it.”

You pray Mark doesn’t hear their teasing. After years of training together and advancing together, you always denied your crush on Mark. You kept trying to find excuses as to why you shouldn’t like the innocent dork turned dauntless leader. You fail at that. It’s impossible when Mark talks to you as if he likes you back or the way he’d help you learn new skills with an endearing look in his eyes. You’d rather not ruin the friendship you have, especially now that you both had a faction to lead.

“That’s our cue y/n.”

Mark pinches you slightly before flying to jump off the moving train. His group of initiates follow him with ease, many of the tumbling out in waves. You think to yourself, you can appreciate the way Mark looks. The way his figure is tight-fitted with black vests, black shirts, and black combat boots, the way his hair curls on his forehead. Why is that you admire Mark in times of urgency? Lucas snaps you out of your thoughts before following him to make your exit- you all leap off the train and onto the gravel. Following suit, you and Mark lead your teams to an abandoned part of the city. As always, buildings tower into the starry night sky, blocks and cones marking safe zones. Piles of rubble provide shelter during the game. You and Mark stop ahead of the group, turning around to face them.

You say, “Rules are easy, the goal is to obtain the other team's flags. Just don’t get shot.”

Mark holds up his gun, “Right, as y/n said, these babies are loaded with dauntless stun darts. You’ll feel stinging pain for about 10 seconds but it won’t kill you. Best of luck to everyone.”

Both of your teams part, your jade green flag in your hands. Mark holds a bright yellow one in his.

Lucas snickers, “So, what’s the plan?”

You advise your team, “We should hide the flag somewhere that’s out of sight. Knowing Mark, he’ll climb to a vantage point that’s high off ground. We should hide ours low to the ground, set up a trap.”

And that’s what you do. You find one of the abandoned buildings that’s on the far side of the area, planting your flag in the center of the circular platform.

“Alright everyone, half of you form a circle around the flag. Make sure you keep formation, Mark’s team will try to break you up. Other half is with me.”

Lucas stays behind to bolster the strength of the guarding ring, the rest of the initiates circling around the flag. Gripping your dart gun tighter, you and Selene lead you team back outside the building as you debrief them of what you predict Mark might do. You instruct them to lay lower to the ground, blending with the shadows of the debris that conceal certain areas.

“The important part is the element of surprise. Mark likes order and having the upper-hand. We have to divide and conquer.”

When you make it to the middle area, you and Selene crouch behind a pile of concrete rubble as you motion your team to follow suit behind you. One of the girls on your team points at the tower that’s in view, the neon yellow flag sitting at the top. Just as you expected, Mark hid it on a high place which meant that only a couple initiates had room to guard it.

Selene whispers at the team, “Most likely, Mark and his team are prowling towards the base of the tower. Everyone should scatter and blend in. Y/n and I will take on Mark and the guards up top.”

Like that, all of you skip across the ground- aiming your scopes to the distance in front of you. In an instant, stun darts fly in storms, causing whines to reach your ears. Some of your initiates get caught in the line of fire, falling as they cradle their legs and arms. You have to keep pushing on. You and Selene make it to a pile of debris that’s closer to the bottom of the tower. Selene puts her blonde hair into a ponytail before nodding at you, “I think Mark’s guarding on top. I’ll cover for you on the staircase.”

You nod back at her, patting his shoulder with your gloved hand, “Let’s go.”

Shooting the guards at the entrance door, you swing it open with ease. Selene takes down the guard who’s on the first platform of the staircase. He yelps in pain, glaring at Selene as she daintily smiles down at him, “Oops, sorry about that!”

Selene follows behind while you take down some more initiates one by one, their pained grunts the only noise in the vicinity. Finally when you reach the top of the staircase, you hear more initiates yelling from where you first entered. Selene grins, “I’ll cover for you! Go take down your boyfriend!”

Before you can scold her for her words, she takes off down the staircase again- firing more shots when she runs. Inhaling, you kick down the door- shooting the first boy that you see in sight. He drops his gun, clutching his knee in pain as he attempts to scoot to the corner of the tower. Then, you’re met with Mark who stands right in your way of the flag. Defensively, you aim your dart gun at him, “I don’t hurt you but you’ll have to move aside.”

He quirks his eyebrows up at you, a smirk gracing his pink lips, “Why haven’t you shot me yet then?”

To his dismay, you shoot him square in the foot as he clatters to the ground with a pained grunt. His gun makes a sound when it crashes to the ground, scattering towards the other boy that lays helpless in his position. Just before you can wrap your fingers around the flag’s stem, you feel Mark wrap his arms around your torso, pulling you down. A shout escapes from your throat when you both go down together, your body on top of Mark. You try to struggle out of his grasp, wiggling as much as you can.

“Give up y/n, I got you now!”

Mark’s face contorts with pain when you use your elbow to jab him in the rib, his grip not relenting even a little.

“This is so unfair! You’re way heavier than me!”

Mark laughs at you, “This is all part of the game, I’m not letting you win.”

That’s when you remember your own words. The element of surprise. You have to catch Mark off guard. With a surge of confidence, you turn your head to face him as his dark eyes are riddled with confusion. He has no idea. You shift forward, kissing a peck to the hollow of his neck. Just like you expect, he releases his grip before scrambling to sit up- his face is utterly flabbergasted. He turns red, the sight of him being so embarrassed makes you burst into laughter, he doesn’t look so tough anymore. Though, you don’t waste time. You advance towards the flag, waving it around in Mark’s shocked face. Even the boy who sits in the corner stares at you wide-eyed.

You jump and down in joy, “We won!!!”

You waste no time to blaze it through the tower window, the small figures of your teammates hooting and cheering on the ground. You hear Mark stutter, “H-hey! That’s not fair! You-”

Turning around, you press a finger on the ball of Mark’s button nose, “Gotcha!”

Mark and his teammate sulk behind you when you walk down the stairs in victory. Selene and Lucas so high that you feel like you can get sucked into the dark sky, silver stars swirling above you. The taste of winning sure is sweet.

[10:30 PM]

“How’s it feel to eat dirt Lee?”

He laughs at you on the way back to the Dauntless base, he leans against the wall of the train, “Whatever- you backed me into a corner.”

“And fair and square!”

Mark rolls his eyes, laughing, “I’ve won other times- this is nothing y/n.”

Lucas chimes in, “Mark’s just butt-hurt we won.”

Mark yells back, “Am not!”’

“Are too!”

You raise your voice, “Alright boys, that’s enough.”

All the three of you erupt into a fit of laughter, pushing each other as the initiates stare at you with bewilderment.

“Do you want to hang out for a bit more? I’m not tired?”

You raise your eyebrows at Mark, “After that? You’re not tired? Not tired from your beating?”

Mark shakes from laughter, “Don’t do that! Agh, you know what you’re doing.”

You let Mark lead you to his suite anyway. In Dauntless, most of the rooms looked like jail cells. They had grey concrete walls, beds that were as hard as nails, and only shared bathrooms. You recall the memories of when you and Mark had to sleep among dozens of initiates, the toilets didn’t even have separators. It felt like torture. When you moved up the ranks, Taeyong placed you in the leader suites- two large studios for each of you. Upon entering Mark’s room, it almost feels homey. The walls are still a drab grey yet there are black panels that line the area above Mark’s headboard, his bed made neatly. Mark goes to open the sliding door by his closet, the door opening up to his balcony. Mark chuckles, “Isn’t this better than the old dauntless rooms?”

Playfully rolling your eyes at him, you reply, “Of course it is. Anything is better than the gross bathrooms.”

He walks over to you, “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No thanks, I think I’m good.”

For a few minutes, Mark perks up, bouncing with a pep in his step, “Do you mind if I change real fast? I feel sweaty.”

You nod, “I won’t be going anywhere.”

Sitting on Mark’s bed, you wait for him to come out of the bathroom. Everything in his room is orderly, from his clothes and his desk, everything's in it’s place. The room feels like Mark. When he comes out, you giggle at his clumsiness as you imagine Mark hastily fumbling with the buttons on his pajama shirt.

“You silly, the buttons aren’t right.”

You don't realize what you’re doing until you slowly unbutton each button on Mark’s black shirt, a red blush creeping over his face. He flicks his eyes to you, biting on his lower lip before looking down at your fingers. You try to ignore the erratic beating in your heart, the heat that travels up your back.

“There, all finished-”

When you look back up, you realize that Mark is only a few centimeters away. You memorize every knick in his skin and every eyelash that lines his eyes. Even in the poor lighting of his room, Mark still shines in front of you. The golden glow travels along Mark’s hair and onto the fabric of his shirt. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, “You’re so close.” That’s all you manage to say.

Mark whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

He searches your eyes for some kind of refusal. When he doesn’t find any, he crashes his lips into yours, his bottom lip folding over your own. You move your hand to Mark’s neck, tugging back on the hairs on his nape. He kisses you even more passionately, embers sparking up in your stomach. It’s no lie you’ve dreamed of kissing Mark for a long time. Mark rests his calloused, scarred hands on your waist as he pulls you into him, your noses bumping together. You feel Mark’s tongue push against your own, you had no idea Mark could kiss anyone like that. Pulling back, you stare at him, ‘You know- I just wanted to say that I’ve always admired you. Not for your looks but about your ability to help others and your selflessness, how brave you are and-”

Mark shuts you up with another heated kiss, pulling you down into his bed. He rests his forehead on yours as he holds your hand in his lap, “There’s something I need to say y/n.”

You listen to him, not wanting to miss a word, “What is it Mark?”

“Y/n, I like you.”

You pause before smiling to yourself, “Are you sure you want me? I’m kind of-”

“You. That’s all, no one else.”

You nod, pulling yourself into Mark’s lap, “Very well then Lee.”

You continue to massage his neck, sipping on his lips while you do so. You detach from him, nimbly undoing the buttons of his shirt. When he shrugs the garment off, you take note of the large dauntless flame tattoo on his chest, running your fingers over it. He stares up at you, placing his hand over yours when you glance down his toned body, his stomach packed with muscle. Mark proceeds to kiss up your neck, a moan eliciting from your throat. After taking off your long-sleeved sweater, you let Mark bloom purple marks on your skin. You hear him kiss against your collar bone, “It feels like I’m dreaming right now.”

You can’t help but laugh, “You’re not dreaming.”

Mark helps you undo your bra, your chest flushed against his. When you flip your hair out of your face, Mark’s eyes are filled with awe, “How are you so beautiful?”

You rest your chin on his shoulder, “I should be asking you that question.”

After revealing yourself to Mark, you have no regrets. He’s seen every part of you, marking you his territory when he kisses down your neck and your chest as you’ve called him yours. The balcony door is still open, a light breeze floating through Mark’s room. Resting your head on his chest, you hear him exhale into the pillows. He still wraps a strong arm around your figure, making sure you’re secured against him. You tap on Mark’s chest, “Are you awake?”

“Yes.”

“What are you thinking about?”

You don’t expect Mark to ask you such a question. He sighs, “Y/n, do you want to run away together?”

You sit up, resting your head on your propped up elbow, “Mark, what do you mean?”

He turns on his side to face you, his cheek sunken into his pillow, “I heard in a meeting that Erudite plans to take over Dauntless. I’ve always thought about it: why be one thing? why be sorted into categories when we can just be people?”

Reaching a hand over, you play with his hair, “Wow, you must’ve thought about this huh? But where would we go?”

Mark’s eyes show a glimmer of determination, a fierceness that you’ve never seen in anyone else, “I hear there’s people outside the wall. Like a resistance. If we join them, couldn’t we be free?”

“Maybe. Who knows. We don’t know what’s out there. Isn’t that story a legend?”

Mark shakes his head, his eyes scanning your features, “No. I heard some Dauntless guards talking about people outside the wall by the border. They’re out there.”

Finally, you resort to laying on your back, sleep threatening to pull you under. You answer, “Mark, it would be so dangerous. What if the resistance doesn’t take us in? At least here, we have protection.”

Mark’s voice turns cold, “But not for long.”

You’re not sure what to say next. Instead, you feel Mark turn away from you as he shuts his eyes. Leaning forward, you press a kiss to his bare shoulder, “I’m sorry. I just- my family’s here and the initiates, I’m scared to leave them behind.”

Mark doesn’t move, his eyes are still screwed shut.

“I know. It’s wrong of me to expect you to drop everything and go. I don’t know myself.”

“Hey, look at me.”

Mark turns to look at you, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon that shines through his window. You press a kiss to his cheek, your lips lingering there, “I’m with you. No matter what happens. Even if it means we have to leave, I’m willing.”

Mark slowly blinks, his lashes accenting his eyes. He leans up to kiss you once more, his thumb tracing the edge of your chin, “I’ll protect you. I love you y/n.”

You freeze from the sudden ease in Mark’s tone. You’re still sure of it. You press a kiss to the corner of his lip, “I love you too.”

[9:00 AM]

When morning comes, you jolt up from the nightmare that causes your body to shake with anxiety. You gasp, sitting up in Mark’s bed. What’s worse is that you don’t find him next to you. Throwing off the covers, you check the bathroom and the balcony. Mark isn’t here. You start to panic, you pray that Mark had woken up early to get breakfast or for some Dauntless meeting. After slipping on your shoes and putting on your clothes, you exit out of the Dauntless Leadership wing and head towards the pit. You feel a ball drop in your stomach when you see hundreds of initiates swarming the pit like a hive, all of them single file in the cavern. Some of the other dauntless leaders are corralling them like cattle. What’s even weirder is that the initiates don’t seem normal.

You spot Lucas and Selene by the corner of the room, their eyes laced with some kind of magnetic trance. Everyone seems to be walking in a robotic manner like something’s controlling them from within. Why weren’t you controlled? That’s when you remembered Mark’s words. Erudite planned to overthrow Dauntless and the other factions. You step back into the shadows, quietly scanning the room for Mark. It’s impossible to see with so many people in one area. Before you can slink away, you feel a hand cover your mouth the instant you try to scream- you fall your eyes close from the loss of consciousness.

When you awake, your vision is blurry and it’s difficult to hear anything. You see blobs of blue moving to talk to a white-haired woman dressed in navy, their lips saying, “Is she divergent?”

“I’m not certain, testing isn’t complete yet.”

You try to shake yourself awake, your limbs are tightly locked into the chair that someone has put you in.

“Ah- she’s awake.”

You blink twice, your eyes still adjusting to your environment. The white-haired woman looks down at you, her features as hard as ice, “Well hello y/n.”

“Who are you?”

“My name’s Jeanine. I lead Erudite. It seems as though our crafted simulation doesn’t work on you.”

Lifting your head, you stare around her. People dressed in blue coats pump syringes into tubes as they tap on glowing screens as well. Jeanine laughs, “I’m here to ask you a few things y/n. What did you get on your aptitude test?”

“Dauntless.”

Jeanine creases her eyebrows, inching closer to you, “I don’t think you’re telling me the truth.”

“What do you want me to say? I’m dauntless born.”

Jeanine lets out a cynical laugh before smoothing down her bobbed hair, “Get rid of her. We’ll find the rest on our own.”

You start to yell at Jeanine, “You won’t get away with this! I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

That’s when you can’t say a word. From behind Jeanine, Mark enters your view. His eyes are emotionless, the soft glow that once sparked up in his irises is now absent. He’s still wearing his black uniform from the night before, a pistol gripped in his hand. You hear an erudite employee ask, “Shouldn’t we do it outside?”

Jeanine shakes her head in refusal, her wicked smile curling on her lips. You scream Mark’s name, “Mark! hey! It’s me!”

He shows no sign of recognition. Like a mechanized soldier, he grips the back of your neck. Your hairs feel like they’re being tugged on too hard, the cold barrel of his gun pointed at your temple. Tears break like a dam as they flow down your cheeks, whimpering at Mark doesn’t do anything, “Mark..please… it’s me!”

Mark only grips your neck harder. His jaw tightens at the sight of you, his fingers on the trigger. If you weren’t restrained, you’d lean over to touch Mark’s face. You’d try to remind him of who you were and what you shared- how you told him you loved him for the first time last night. But you can’t. You just sob, “Mark..please..”

In a second, you hear a pin drop ring in your ears. Mark swivels away from you as hard as he can, firing the gun straight at Jeanine. Jeanine drops to the ground, blood spilling from the back of her thigh as she screams out in pain. It’s so fast that you have trouble registering what’s going on until Mark yanks off the belts that fasten your hands to the armrests of the chair before screaming at you, “Y/n! Get out of here now!”

“I’m not leaving you!”

You spot Jeanine pressing her hand to her spewing wound, the other erudite members worriedly clamoring over her.

Mark looks angry, his expression looks like he’s fighting some unknown force within him. You shake your head, “Let’s just run now! Just like you said!”

Mark grits his teeth in pain, his hands tightening into fists as if he’s resisting the urge to lunge at you again, “You have to leave now! Go where I told you! Follow the tracks!”

As much as you want to drag Mark with you, you know there’s no time. Instead, you close the distance in between you before kissing a messy kiss to his lips as you place your hand on the back of his neck. For a few seconds, you feel him kiss you back, his eyes are screwed painfully shut. Forcefully, Mark pushes you away from him- launching you towards the exit.

Jeanine yells, “Get him under control!”

You realize that you have to leave Mark behind. You grab one of the handguns that sits one of the racks before dashing out the double doors. Tears are streaming down your face, hot and painfully slow. Your legs hurt from the pain of running, you have to keep running. You have to get out of here- all of Dauntless is under simulation. They’re being played like puppets on a string, all for Erudite’s divine control. Remembering Mark’s words, you run as fast as you can. Your chest heaves with a lack of oxygen, you fly along the tracks of the train by the center of the city. Luckily when you hoist yourself into one of the train cars, you don’t see anyone else.

You ride the train as it speeds towards the border wall that encloses the city. Leaning on the train wall, you sob into your knees, remembering Mark’s smile when he had first helped you onto the train car when you were initiates. You miss him. You miss his breathy laugh, the scent of mint and pine needles, the way he would play with your hair to make you grin. You miss your combat partner and you miss your friends: Lucas, Serene, and the others. You begin to realize that you had left your family behind too as you imagine their cowering figures in some hiding spot behind the Dauntless complex. Or maybe, they were put in a simulation too- walking around like mindless zombies as Dauntless soldiers order them around, gun barrels pressed to their backs. You can’t stop the tears that burn your skin, your fingers yanking at the fabric sweater that suffocates you.

When the train stops, you raise your gun at any potential attackers as you carefully tread towards the wall’s entrance. For one last time, you stand in the grassy field. You take note of how there’s no clouds in the sky and the way the sun beats down on your face- the city reaching up to the heavens. When you look back at the city in the distance, all you can see is what you’ve lost. What you’re leaving behind. Still, there’s a small glimmer in your chest when you think of what lies on the other side of this wall. All the potential possibilities that could help you get your family back- Mark back. There’s no definite answer, whether there is a resistance force or nothing but a deserted wasteland. You’re about to find out yourself.

@czennienet @neowritingsnet @nct-writers

[PART 2: Borderlands] [PART 3: Redemption]

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dream-wreck · 4 years

Text

Count On You

Surprise! “Count On Me” has an unintended part 2.

Chapter 2 Title: Count On You Rating: G Word Count: 1,668 Description: When the office door closes, Neil can be alone in his own world. That's not always a good thing.

…..

Of all things, Neil missed spaghetti the most. Jarred red sauce, fifty-cent pasta, pre-grated parmesan (if he was feeling especially bougie). Nothing could beat it. He didn’t miss the reflux, but he’d deck his esophageal halls with ulcers if it meant eating a real meal, a heaping bowl of comfort food that would leave him full and sluggish and knock Insomnia flat on its back.

Neil ran his thumb over a medicine-purple protein bar wrapper, smoothing out the perforated ends between the flesh of his thumb and index finger. The yellow POWER BAR logo rippled and glimmered under his office lights like a cheap trick.

Clearly, the graphic designers had no idea that their chosen font and colors made the meal replacement look like a cartoon villain’s mind-controlling sugar bar. This one was supposed to taste vaguely reminiscent of peanut butter, which he’d discovered was easier to stomach than the artificial vanilla flavor that stuck to his tongue for hours after the fact.

He tore the wrapping down the middle. The sickly brown bar revealed itself, shedding its tacky cape.

He took a vengeful bite out of the bar, feeling as triumphant as he possibly could while chewing something that tasted like cardboard soaked in old peanut oil. Just last week, these weren’t so bad. He could stomach them and they had tasted pretty decent.

I was thinking of you the entire time, he’d eventually say to a heaping bowl of angel hair pasta and marinara.

Eventually. One day, soon. When all this was over, Neil could quit skipping meals and popping pain pills like tic tacs and Mentos.

The single bite of bar began to disintegrate in his mouth the same way a bad piece of gum chewed too long turns into a compound of sand and slime. Neil choked the mixture down and lunged for his water bottle. Empty. He turned to the mini fridge and pulled out an ice cold energy drink that had been sitting on standby, untouched, for months.

“Don’t tell Eva,” Neil said, snapping the tab open in the vacant room. The drink went down cold and sweet, washing the gritty paste from his tongue. He’d regret the caffeine in an hour or two, but for now, the familiar bubbles were worth whatever he had coming later.

A lot of things had become worth it recently. He banished the pitiful excuse for a protein bar to the bottom drawer, sitting down in his desk chair, staring at the paperwork that so desperately needed filing. A fib, of course. He’d never filed paperwork on time in his life. Lying to Eva....Neil had yet to discern if that was worth keeping any secret.

What secret? In the end, what could be worth keeping from her? That Neil Watts was mortal? Extraordinary, but mortal. Extraordinarily mortal.

He thought of Eva sitting outside the men’s room while he retched, stretching to keep pace with him in the hall, reminding him about the simple things. There is so much said in reminding someone to take care of themselves in the little ways, to drink water, to take time. Neil wished he were a better listener, that his pride would crumble for a day or two, long enough for him to set good habits and be honest -- with himself, with Eva, with everyone.

Fluorescent humming grated his ears, burned his eyes. He felt new sickness swelling. He shut his eyes to the room’s blue white.

He’d worry a lot less if Eva would just let it drop. She cared too much, that was her problem. She was usually good at hiding it. At work, of course, surrounded all day by dying people and their repressed traumas, you need to find a way to push through it all without completely breaking down, balancing visible empathy with healthy detachment.

Crying in front of the clients doesn’t get the job done, and it certainly doesn’t look good on evaluations.

Their particular line of work called for expert compartmentalization. Eva had mastered concealing a naturally compassionate disposition behind cold professionalism, efficiency, and control. It was never just another day at the office for her, even if she’d sometimes seem unfeeling when the chips were down.

Neil knew her too well. She always wanted to help. She was a problem solver, always trained on an objective, never one to dwell, to stutter-step, to second guess. She never let things lie. Why should a problem go unsolved?

He used to hold that against her, that she couldn’t let things be, that she could get a little control-crazy when things shifted from their right places into wrong places, drifting away from order like moons out of orbit. But she wasn’t the one who had to cheat on her entrance exams. And between the two of them, she seemed to have her life under control.

Neil Watts had looked to Eva Rosalene for a lifetime of answers. He could count on her for anything. She always came in clutch (he’d been watching a lot of Esports streams lately, picking up on the lingo during his late night nausea fits).

It wasn’t a question of whether or not Eva cared about him. It was a question of, if Neil truly believed in Eva Rosalene, why on God’s green earth had he not told her a lick of truth about what was really going on? He dove down for a good answer, or even a scrap of a convoluted selfish reasoning, but resurfaced empty.

In his coat pocket, a little blue bottle pressed against Neil’s thigh. He crossed his arms, but he only grew more aware of the light pressure resting there. It annoyed him, more than anything, like feeling a strand of hair brush along your skin, but just when you think you’ve swiped it away, there it is again, brushing just light enough to frustrate, to aggravate, to piss you off. Neil bounced his knee, trying to shake the coat off his leg, but the bump beneath the white cloth just moused its way back and forth, prodding.

He should do that paperwork. Listen to music or something to pass the time.

His stomach roiled. Neil slipped a hand into his pocket. He closed his fist around the smooth bottle, ran his thumb over the cap, catching his thumbnail along the ridges there. Comforting, he thought. The action really did calm his nerves.

Eva was across the hall. Fifteen steps away. A knock away. A conversation away.

Neil didn’t bother to set a stopwatch so he never knew how long he sat there, his thumb running back and forth over the ridges in the lid while his mind wandered, imagining the many ways that conversation could go, the look on Eva’s face, the disappointment. Daydream Neil started crying, but Real Neil didn’t think that was very dignified, so he started from the beginning, approaching Dr. Eva Rosalene in her office. Figuring she’d probably be busy, he reset to the cafeteria. A nice talk over lunch. When Eva burst into tears and people from the surrounding tables looked their way, Neil chose the park, even though they weren’t in the habit of going to the park together and never had been. But it was quiet, undisturbed. A gorgeous day in this self-revising simulation. He guided Eva to a bench. They sat down. Eva told him to take his time, that she knew something was wrong, that she was glad Neil could finally talk to her. Yes, he was ready. It would be amazing to finally say it out loud. To someone else. To confide. To confess….

He opened his eyes to the harsh light.

Confess? What was that word doing, flitting about in his stream of consciousness?

An email notification pinged on his desktop. He moved to open it with a click. It read:

If you’re up for it, they’re showing Inception and the Cowboy Bebop movie tonight. It’s the weirdest double feature ever so I have to go, it’s the law.

Popcorn’s light on the stomach, right? Let me know, my treat. --Eva

Perfect. He could talk to her then. Simple, easy as that. All that melodramatic daydreaming over nothing. He could talk to her then. Besides: free food.

Neil’s stomach suddenly felt very, very empty. His usual nausea felt like he was too full and ready to burst.

But it suddenly felt as if something small inside were eating away at everything, the lining and the tissue and the bile, hungrily consuming out of a gluttonous jealousy that which consumes. And when there would be nothing left, that small something would eat the air and the Nothing until an impossible vacuum remained. And Neil would also remain, nothing more than a container to conceal a parasitic anomaly, cursed never to be filled again.

His hand closed around the little blue bottle. The pills inside stirred, knocking against the walls of their plastic prison.

The emptiness in his stomach slowly spread into his hips and ribs, knees and neck, his head and the space behind his eyes, until his whole body felt hollow and the hollow spaces felt sore.

This moment was nearly one of those moments that change everything. Very important, nearly pivotal, but not to be realized, lacking the crucial self-awareness that would have sent things this way and that, particularly along different this-es and better thats. The manner in which a single rock falls prevents or triggers a landslide.

Neil drew the bottle from his pocket, poured two little white pills into his palm, tossed them back. They scraped down the dry walls of his throat, as though clawing for a foothold, before eventually settling in the cavern of his stomach, and almost instantaneously, the pain began to dwindle.

Neil didn’t stop to consider the impossibility of this. If he had, it would have made all the difference. But he didn’t, so it did not, and things seemed to remain relatively the same, the distant sound of tumbling rocks drowned by electric humming.

--------

Chapter 2 end notes: Ended up somewhere unexpected, as writing usually does. My fingers like to run without me sometimes. Pleasant surprises though! Thank you for supporting "Count On Me"! You all are the best :)

Wubnjeft

...

I've been reading a lot of science fiction lately.

#lol it was all supposed to stay a one shot #that never happens #count on me #count on you #rosawatts #to the moon #finding paradise #eva rosalene #neil watts #fanfiction #finding paradise fanfiction #drug use #imposter factory

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shaydeoffical · 4 years

Text

Bright as a Diamond. Hitoshi Shinsou x Fem Reader: Chapter Two

Summary: When (Y/N)’s co-worker decided to send a picture of her making a diamond to the paper, her life was over. Gemstone based quirks weren’t all that rare, but being able to make a diamond put a target on her back. After years of hiding in the city, it’s time to hide in the countryside with her Uncle Shota Aizawa and his more than ‘roommate’ Hizashi Yamada. With the promise of training her to be self-sufficient, she’s ready to learn.

Edit: Deadass left the “chapter one” in the title for like a week when this is chap two, oops. Also, I had a read more and that didn't work. Sorry Family <3 Also I realized my flashbacks are not in ilatics, but I think you can infer as you read. I’ll try to fix that for next time.

Chapter One: https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/190764312269/bright-as-a-diamond-chapter-one-hitoshi-shinsou-x

Chapter Three:

https://ambershaydeoffical.tumblr.com/post/611141904327983104/bright-as-a-diamond-hitoshi-shinsou-x-fem-reader

Chapter Two

Before You Can Walk

Uncle Shota had sent off my furniture choices to the store, and now I was to get ready in the outfit he had provided for me. It was in a black case with an intricate white swirl on the top. To most people, I looked like a confident and polished young woman, on her way to the top. In truth, my mother dressed me every morning, and I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror for longer than a few seconds to check my hair.

My body wasn’t exactly typical, with my weight sitting in the places I hated the most…well, I hated it all. Maybe my thighs were okay, and my ass was great, but my breasts were nearly untamable.

Inside the case was a camo tracksuit, a white tee, and a pair of tight bike shorts that went under the pants or were interchangeable for summer months. The shoes were red sneakers that went up to my ankle. The red contrasted the camo, but I suppose it was a safety thing, so I didn’t pass out and just blended in.

Luckily for me, the outfit was made of a poly-cotton blend, and it was stretchy. The shirt clung tighter to my chest then I wanted, but the short sleeve jacket was loose, and the pants fit just right. I pulled the top part of my hair back and made a ponytail. Half up and half down hair was my daily go too, so it didn’t make sense to change that for training.

When I exited the bathroom, Shota was nowhere to be found. “Hizashi, where is Shota?” I found the blonde pouring over his music player, geeking out.

“Oh, he said you had to make it to the road without being caught.” Hizashi paused his music and chuckled. “I know his methods are weird, but he’ll make you’re a master of self-defense.”

“I’m supposed to run through the forest and get to the road. Without being caught?” I frowned, looking out the door. “How long has he been gone?”

“Not too long. Look at it like capture the flag, and have some fun.” He handed me a water bottle. “You better get going before he gets bored.”

“Okay, um, thanks.” I tuck the water into my pocket and start to walk outside.

I wasn’t really the running type. Even when bad things had come my way, I was more of a hider. Still, Shota knew what he was doing, I had to trust his judgment. Training took two people trusting the other not to go too far.

Slowly jogging, I made it to the tree line and focused on a steady rhythm of breathing. The natural debris from autumn was causing some issues. I kept curling my ankle on walnuts and kicking limbs up and cutting the opposite ankle. Part of getting stronger was getting hurt. I knew that still, it wasn’t pleasant.

Keeping my eyes peeled, I knew I could be jumped at any moment. Anxiety chewed through my muscles as I ran faster with longer strides. Of course, I wanted to pass my first test, but I really didn’t want to be at the business end of Shota’s capture weapon.

A few minutes in, I stumbled forward, landing on my knees. Not taking a moment to rest, I kept going, pushing harder. I just had to get going.

Parched lips. Unable to keep my head up. The constant hum of the motor.

Stopping suddenly, I grasped my water and downed half the bottle. Hiding between two trees, I glanced around and took in my surroundings. Something rustled in the distance, and I put the bottle back in my pocket. I saw Shota running through the trees, and I stayed quiet until he was out of sight.

Now that he was ahead of me, I took a moment and breathed. Closing my eyes, I contently leaned on the tree and steadied my body. The aches were starting to set in, and I contemplated laying down and just taking a short break.

Something grasped my love handles. Yelping, I got out of the grip and turned. No one was there. Again I was clutched; this time, I could see the hands holding my midsection and pulling me down. I broke free and swiveled to catch a glimpse of the person responsible.

“Cut it out!” I demanded, wrapping my hands around my stomach, and spinning around in circles. “Shota, this isn’t cool. I don’t like being-“I screamed again, this time there was a long pull on my jacket, bringing me to the earth. “Stop it.” I shivered.

Shivering. So cold and sterile. My blood was freezing into ice cubes. I try to pass them off as the real deal.

Curling into my knees, I grabbed my hair and took even breaths. Someone hovered over top of me, it wasn’t Shota’s shoes. My heart racing, this wasn’t a game. Grabbing my water bottle. I chucked it at the person and ran. Not like I had before but with real purpose this time.

The chase was on footsteps right behind me. I didn’t have a reason to look back, so I kept going. “Uncle Sho!” I cried for help, reaching a small hill, I skidded down the slope and kept going. “UNCLE SHO HELP!” Even louder then before, I couldn’t breathe and scream at the same time. Pumping my legs faster, I saw the road in the distance. Then a tight rope coiled around my waist. I screamed.

Airborne in an instant, I was dangling from a tree. Kicking my legs to stop the spinning. It was no use. My hands were bound with my hips, and I was useless. Like always.

“I thought you’d be better than that.” A boy a little older than me was holding the other end of the scarf. He didn’t look it, but he must have been keen to hoist me into the air so nonchalantly. Obviously, he was arrogant and a prick. Who could do this to someone and not get the ‘screaming for help’ as a sign to stop?

“Did Shota put you up to this or do you like to toy with girls in the forest,” I spat, seeing stars the faster I twirled around.

“I don’t know.” He let go of the scarf and caught it just before I hit the ground.

“Oh, my God.” I got my feet under me and stood. “That was sadistic. What the hell is wrong with you?” I wobbled but turned to face the ass. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I see you met Hitoshi Shinsouu.” Shota appeared from the road, lazily yawing. “Shinsouu is my protegee; I asked him to help with today’s exercise.”

“Did you instruct him to kill me?” I barked, only to be lifted off my feet and sent spinning. “Stop! What’s wrong with you?”

“You look like a pinata,” Shinsouu stated, keeping me from touching the ground. With each spin, I could see his smirk…what a-ugh.

“That’s enough, Shinsou; she’s learned her lesson.” Shota leaned down to my level, now that I was resting on my knees. “What do you think that was about?”

“Just because someone’s your protégée doesn’t give them the right to scare me.” I offered meekly, sending a glare at the purple-haired boy, who seemed uncaring at this point.

“No. He did as I instructed.” Shota sighed, untangling me from the scarf. “Just because you know there is one villain, doesn’t mean there aren’t more. Never let your guard down, and certainly never just sit there as it’s happening.”

“I thought it was you at first,” I argued, fighting against the ropes.

“Even me. In these simulations, we need to treat it like the real thing.” He plucked a leaf from my hair and helped me up. “Now, let’s get ready for the run back.”

“Wait, we’re going again?” I screeched, rubbing my sore sides.

“You got a three-minute head start. Go.” I didn’t waste a second more, taking off past Shinsouu, sending him a glare.

It went on like that for hours. It mostly ended with Shinsouu hanging me up by my ankles, waist, or once by my knees. He also pinned me in a tackle a few times, going as far as to snicker. After a while, I knew that Shota had stopped chasing me, and just enjoyed the show. Time after time of me trying to make it back to the road or the house and falling just short. My best attempt was when I hid close to the starting point and walked behind them and hid when they turned around. It was foiled when I saw a mouse and screamed.

No longer running, I shuffled my feet towards the house. Dragging my ankles, I reached the small hill that had become the bane of my existence, and I tripped over my own feet. Unable to catch my balance, I fell. My body crashing down the slope, banging with each bump.

Shinsouu crashed his body with mine, slowing the speed but getting himself into my tumble. Not knowing what to do with his stupid strong arms, he wrapped them around me, probably to cop a feel.

“You alright?” He asked when we stopped, pressing my head to his chest. He probably got off to being squished being under me like that.

“Fine, you caught me again. Don’t rub it in.” I sniffled, frustrated with my progress. I couldn’t keep upright, and now everything hurt.

“That’s enough for today,” Shota jumped down from a limb and helped Shinsouu up than me. I stumbled into his arms and cried tears of relief.

“Really?” I rubbed my tears into his black shirt.

“Now, you just need to run back home, we won’t chase you this time.” Shota chuckled, and I pulled away from him in disbelief.

“You’re sadistic too, no wonder you both get along.” I crossed my arms over my bruised chest. My mother’s image flashed through my mind, and I sighed. “Fine, if I’m going to run home, I should get one more chance to outrun you two.” I squared my shoulders and took off.

Instead of heading straight, I zig-zagged through the trees, running at an angle. I had my second and third winds hours earlier, but I managed to keep myself going at a decent speed.

After running this drill so many times, I knew what was more successful. Once they caught sight of me, it was over. So I just needed to stay hidden and keep a low profile. The forest was denser the way I was running now, and I could take more small breaks. A few more meters and I would be in the back garden, safe and sound.

“(y/n),” Hizashi was yelling for me. “You win, come home.” It was off. The voice was in the opposite direction of the house.

I knew that Present Mic had a booming voice, but why was he using it now. The sun was starting to set, and I had skipped lunch, so my tummy was rumbling…maybe he cooked- “It’s a trick, I know it.” I settled it in my mind and kept running.

A few minutes passed, and I wasn’t in the back garden. Hizashi had been calling me for a while, but I could no longer hear him. Maybe I was stupid… perhaps I was lost.

“What to do when lost?” I plopped down and tugged my lower lip. “Sit still. Check. Start a fire?” There wasn’t much sun left, but I gathered a few twigs and focused on my quirk. Making diamonds had got me into trouble, but it was the coals I needed right now.

Making several fiery coals, I sat them in my fire pit and encouraged the flames to grow by fanning them. Now I had a few diamonds floating my pocket and a warm fire to fend off the autumn chill. I would have killed to still have a little water with me, but I had to toss it at Shinsouu earlier. He deserved it.

“There you are,” Shota sighed, pointing a flashing light on my campsite after a few minutes of smoke being in the air. “Great work with the fire. That was smart thinking.” He complimented me, patting my head.

“Where is Shinsouu and Hizashi?” I asked, putting out the fire.

“They’re probably headed home now.” He started walking off, and I followed behind him.

“Sorry, I did so bad today,” I remembered how lackluster my performance was.

He stopped before going again. “You did better then I thought you would. I can tell you relay more on your fight response then flight. We can use that to our advantage; today was useful.”

“Did you have to bring Shinsouu in? He’s so so rude. I hate to be so brash about your friend, but he was also so rough.”

“I thought you two would hit it off.” He held a thorn-covered branch back so I could pass. “He’ll be useful in your training, and vise versa. Can you manage to get along for me?”

“I won’t like it, but I can tolerate anything for you, Uncle Sho.” I sounded like a brat but was too tired to care.

“Let’s get home.”

#shinsou hitoshi #erasermic #shinsou x reader #hitoshi x reader #bright as a diamond #ambershaydeoffical #bnha #mha #my hero #my hero academia #reader #dad aizawa #bnha x reader

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kunrendeotaku · 3 years

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Chapter 15

“Marco! If you don’t open your eyes, how are you going to tell me where we’re going?!” Star’s voice is full of laughter, her voice piercing directly into my ears from only a few inches behind me. As her question implies, I have my eyes squinted tightly shut against the chilly fall wind that blows more powerfully than I would have ever expected. Then again, I don’t often consider what it would feel like to fly.

I weigh my options. On the one hand, my insane magical friend could easily fly us to the next country if I don’t give her directions. On the other hand, maybe if I keep pretending this isn’t happening we’ll magically teleport back to the ground. Crazier things have happened, today. Our winged red wagon finally pausing its acrobatics to glide gently is the deciding factor for me peeling open my eyes to take a look at what I’d been missing.

My sleepy little California town spreads out below me, a view I’d seen perhaps a fraction of every now and then caught from drone cameras or news helicopters. Seeing it for myself for the first time is an experience I will never forget if I live to be a million years old. Without even thinking about it my whole body relaxes my previously hyper-tense muscles and I lean back into the architect of the chaos infecting my life, her body still running hotter than I would have expected. It feels nice in this chilly air.

She begins giggling, still holding me tight with her non-wand hand, and when I look back at her face with awe-struck eyes I see the same expression she always tends to have. Full of a wonder at the amazing sights you can see if you chase after adventure. Is this what I’ve been looking for, more than a chance to test my martial arts, more than an escape from the boredom of the world, and so much more than safe kids or bad boys?

Perhaps I would have found the answer for real in those sparkling blue eyes of hers if not for the whole wagon beginning to shake, “Marco, for real! We need a destination, I have no idea how long these wings will last!”

“Oh! Oh, okay!” I sit up and peer over the side of the wagon, the desperation of the new emergency throwing me out of my thoughtful mood. Now that we’re past the initial fear of climbing so high in the air, my own apprehensive attitude about heights is blasted away to wisps of butterflies in my stomach that I honestly rather like, but I’d still rather not crash and die. My destination is rather difficult to find as I’ve never looked for it from the air, but desperation is a powerful motivator. I point out a certain little house in a cul de sac in the middle of town, yelling out, “There! Land us there!”

Immediately the wagon dips into a nosedive. Star clearly is in the mood to get us to the ground as quickly as possible, which is likely due to the fact that I can now see the glittering purple wings dissolving before my very eyes, “We’re not gonna make it, Staaaaaar!” I yell out, her name transitioning into a high pitched (but definitely still totally manly) scream as I feel gravity take hold of us completely.

Star’s grip on my hoodie tightens as we approach the ground at a horrifyingly fast pace. We’re perhaps fifty feet from the ground when for the umpteenth time today I consider myself definitely dead. “Cotton Candy Cloudy Charm!” The princess screams out behind me, and a pink laser blasts past my head to summon a truly massive clump of what looks like a solid cloud of the same color. It has blue eyes and a smile that opens wide as we approach, munching us right out of the air.

The next few moments are a nearly vomit inducing simulation of what a pinball must feel like, as we bounce around the supernaturally soft and durable material until we finally disperse all of our momentum. Somehow we’ve managed to become entangled in a confusing mix up of limbs and odd positions, and I believe the wagon is actually on top of us as I feel I’m laying on the cotton candy-like being Star had summoned.

I find myself feeling a strange mixture of disappointment and relief that it is quite dark in here, as from the feeling of her legging clad knees and thighs on my head I might actually be looking directly up Star’s skirt. The oddly bittersweet feeling doesn’t last long, Star’s wand lighting up to blast the wagon off of us and poof the giant cloud out of existence in the same flash of pink light. She jumps to her feet, then yanks me up as well to spin me around by my wrists. I can’t help but join her in laughing, exalting in the feeling of simply being alive after our harrowing experience.

We’re thrown out of our revelry when the wagon crash lands on one of the homes in the cul de sac and smashes right through the ceiling. The pair of us blink at the property damage, then nearly dissolve into another giggle fit. Someone could definitely have died from that, “Oh, my God Star. That was the best experience of my life. Let's go see if we actually made it to the right house?” I pull my hands away from Star and hook a thumb at what definitely looks to be Fergusson’s home, the grin on my face impossible to suppress even by focusing on the new collection of bruises and scrapes I’d added to my body with the latest escapade. Am I becoming a masochist?

“Okay!” Star rushes off to the doorway and manages to contain herself to only three doorbell dings in quick succession. She’s learning! I follow the crazy blonde up to the door, a bit slowly. I might not be bothered by the injuries I’m slowly racking up, but they’re definitely slowing me down, especially as the adrenaline stops pumping.

The door is answered by Fergusson’s mother a few moments later. She’s probably one of the prettiest adults I’ve ever seen, a gorgeous petite little pixie of a girl with bright orange hair and slender limbs. She could nearly pass for our age. I swear, the only thing Fergusson got from her is his hair and her friendly personality. Not that he can make use of it very often, considering how basically his only friends are me and Alfonzo. Perhaps when he gets to college or so he’ll come into his own?

“Why, Marco! C’mon in, my Ferggie is with Alfonzo in his room as usual.” She barely even seems to notice Star for the first few minutes as we catch up, her talking about a thousand different little nothings a mile a minute. Star simply follows the pair of us into her home looking a little confused at being ignored. Must be strange for a princess to not even be greeted when meeting someone new, but Francine has always been really attached to me for some reason. I happily chat with her until Fergusson’s father, Olaf enters the room.

“Well now, who’s this with you Marco?” A deep voice booms out of the kitchen as a massive giant of a man squeezes through the doorway into the living room. He’s blonde, probably seven feet tall, and all muscle with a gigantic beard. He’s also carrying a tray of brownie fresh from the oven. I swear to all that is holy, how that giant tub of lard Fergusson managed to come from these two parents is a mystery that could stump our world’s greatest minds.

“I’m Star Butterfly! Basically Marco’s best friend, and new roomie!” Huh. First time she’s gone with that as her introduction. Is she actually getting the fact that the magical princess introduction breaks things more often than not?

“Aha, well, I’m Olaf. This is my wife, Francine. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Butterfly. Marco often introduces his foreign exchange students to this household, and I extend the same invitation to you that I always do give them: You’re welcome here anytime.” The little woman dances up to her husband, gives him a peck on the cheek (she has to jump, which is the most adorable thing), and steals a brownie before tossing us both a wink.

“Have fun, Marco! You’re especially welcome, you know. Even if Fergusson isn’t around.” Francine leaves us with that to disappear into the kitchen, giggling like a teenager. Olaf is all smiles until she leaves the room, but once she’s out of sight bends his massive bulk down towards us to give me specifically a death glare.

“You keep him away from my wife, Butterfly girl. I’ll be watching.” His accent deepens, perhaps scandinavian? I’m not that good with accents, for all that I’ve been around foreign kids for years. He then heads back towards the kitchen as well, prompting Star to give me an absolutely befuddled look.

The best I can offer her in return in a bashful shrug. “They’ve always been like that. I don’t really get it, but they’re definitely nice people!” Crazy, but nice. Kind of like Star herself!

#svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #marco diaz #rating: mature #fanfiction #fanfic

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