#everyone fucked up hard and the fandom's insistence on making everything black and white was so toxic

[the100isracist]

Idk if yall are still active but I just eagerly quit this show around early season two. I was kinda hate watching the whole way, but I started googling spoilers when I saw how fucked they were being to Lincoln and Raven (and more, but they’re my faves). Do you have any show recs that are similar with the shows “building a new civilization after tragedy” (minus the colonization and racism etc)

hey!

i actually binged the entire show recently and i can confidently say it was not as groundbreaking or cool as the showrunner believed. the first 2 seasons were incredible but it just devolved into a mess and the ending was so dark and horrifying. also the fandom was completely unhinged and did not need to act the way they did 😭

onto your question: yes!!!! battlestar galactica is what inspired me to watch the 100 in the first place. it very much shares the themes of mass tragedy, civilizational warfare, living in space, seeking a new home, and humanity fighting for survival without losing its soul. start with the 2003 miniseries (a three hour pilot) tho or it might be confusing. it also has diversity without the weird racist tones of the 100's diversity, although the cast is a lot whiter. the 100 has also obviously borrowed a lot of concepts and terms from it but i don't want to spoil you. all in all, it is one of the best shows i have ever watched and it delivers until its very last second.

lost in space is also quite cool. and i have heard good things about the expanse! another show that shares some themes (without the space element) is the society - very fascinating

#i have also changed my mind on a few things rewatching as a full blown adult without any fandom influences #octavia - not abusive until her annoying blodreina shit but she was traumatized whatever #clarke - yes manipulative but she really believed she was doing it for everyones good and was the first to let herself suffer for others #no one was perfect ever #everyone fucked up hard and the fandom's insistence on making everything black and white was so toxic #it was just more complex than teen stans could stomach #for example. bellamy killing the sleeping army was wrong. but for clexas to extrapolate that grounders = natives and skypeople = colonizers #girls what??? lol #and similarly the insistence that bellamy is a white man so could feel better hating him?? soooo ridiculous #similarly.... bellarkes did set themselves up for disappointment when they chose not to believe the showrunner about it being platonic 24/7 #and lexa was really never bad like even when she left their asses to die i get why... people were just mad about clexa #all this to say everyone would be better off if they watched it with a more rational neutral detached lens and didnt make it about idpol #this includes me lol #the racism was real the homophobia was real and the fans amplified both to insane degrees #the end!

[incarnateirony]

You know, i've never been a celebrity. just a person that helps make celebrities. but this entire thing really just. kinda is an experience in people only reading and focusing on what they care about.

I've never been particularly subtle about who I am--from explaining the violent path surviving domestic violence that threw me both into and out of media; of sunnyside, houston; of new orleans, birmingham, and yes, Atlanta. Of 8ball, of Susan.

I lost my nut more than once about white feminism in this fandom guzzling down CW labels of progress after axing dozens of black entertainment pieces from broadcast primetime, or about internal decisions hurting real friends of mine, even inside Supernatural or other CW shows, most of which also, you know, hit a certain demographic.

I was the one flagging at All American while Supernatural and Walker fandoms crowed at each other's throats and tried to make it all one or the other. The one talking about megastation history.

Fans idolize media to the point that it's all a fictional, perfect, alternate universe within a box. there's the pretty, magical people in the tv and then there's normal people, and the normal people get this idea that the way to access their favorite pretty, magical people in the box come from spending slavish amounts of money screaming to VIP tickets, conventions and concerts but you know that's just. That's just being a customer, which means the industry is working.

Realistically, half of media is a bunch of feral cats adopted by random rich guys that picked out one random tom missing three teeth and half an ear because He Has Spunk. *ESPECIALLY* in the south. LA and the west coast may have its privileged college centers and graduating through life on trust funds into good positions, but the gulf was a self built land of self built people, which is why I keep stressing that ya'll ain't ready for what's going down.

"Former media" was fun when it, too, was a disconnected concept not attached to Favorite People In The Shiny Box, but the second it gets personal and breaks that AU illusion everybody's fucking hair catches on fire.

It's just funny. Now that everything's going down that reality funnel people are trying to scream or cry or deny or... google their way through my own life. People so disconnected they think "survivor of violent texas trauma" somehow discredits you from rolling with the starbreakers, as if that's not where we all fucking came from, you privileged assholes.

We all make each other. Together. Always been the whole point. And now Atlanta is self-owned again under Grays with WB leaning its entire TV future on it. So. Let's go. Let's do it.

"Minerva the Atlanta sleeper agent" is funny and all as a meme but like. Every post I talked about how deep my passionate hatred of CW went far and beyond SPN due to friends and it just whistled overhead and everyone insisted it must be ship warring.

Nah. Atlanta and NOLA's back in primetime where it used to be.

Let's crash this bitch.

Walked into this bitch two years after retiring and yall just now catching up to my ass

i just. you can tell real quick who crawled out of an ivory tower and silver spoon path they consider Rough Life when they can't figure out how the same bitch has worn a hard hat with a demolition hammer, then hopped in a fucking car for night life. lmfao say you've had a very boring life while taking no chances without telling me.

no wonder yall suddenly so salty. yeah. it's about acting and doing. We all got our problems, some people learned they gotta actually pick up their shit and fight for it. And people realizing real quick this twitter screeching aint it.

#behind the 8ball #Youtube #we're going home

[dem-obscure-imagines]

Try

Warren Worthington III x Reader

Fandom: Marvel/X-Men

Summary: Warren has been through hell and then some, but will meeting his soulmate turn that around?

Note: That’s right, it’s ya girl, back on my BS. I watched Apocalypse again and BIG SURPRISE, I’m in love with Warren and Kurt all over again. Still hyperfixating on Pietro also, so…expect more fics for him as well. Anyway, I’m a ho for soulmate aus and I haven’t written one for birb boi in literal years, so here ya go.

Reader is: Gender Neutral

Warnings: swears, mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 2.8k

Warren knew one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: he didn’t deserve a soulmate. He didn’t. There was no question in his mind. Anyone who was destined to end up with his winged, alcoholic ass had been fucked over by the universe. No one deserved to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives. And yet, these thoughts didn’t seem to erase the words written on his forearm:

Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.

Professor. He scoffed. He was never going to college. If his parents had gotten their way, their son “cured” of his wings, he would have ended up at Harvard or Yale or somewhere similar. But it was far too late for that. Sitting in a cage in the back room of an illegal underground mutant fighting club in Berlin…it was far too late for that. He’d probably die before he met his soulmate anyway, rendering the prophecy on his wrist—and theirs, for that matter—useless. A waste of space.

That was all he was anyway.

He spiraled. His dependence on vodka got worse. The fights got harder. He wasn’t making it out unscathed anymore, winding up with burns and scrapes and cuts, depending on what kind of mutant he was up against. One night, one of his cuts had gotten dangerously close to the writing on his wrist. He stared at it for a long time, tears burning his eyeballs until they escaped and dripped down his cheeks, angry and hot.

He hated it, but even after everything, he still had hope. He still had hope that things would get better; that he could be better, even if it seemed impossible.

And then it got…worse.

Apocalypse had come, turned his wings to metal, tuned into his anger, his rage at the world, turned him into a monster, complete with knives for feathers and winding tattoos framing his face. He wished he could blame it on mind control or something, but Apocalypse hadn’t brainwashed him, only used his anger against him. Turned him into a weapon.

And then everything went black.

When he woke up after the battle, he was in an unfamiliar room, large and white and sterile; it smelled like hand sanitizer. He heard the steady beeping of a heart monitor and when he sat up, he noticed how sore he was. His whole body hurt. His head spun. But he was alive. And when he looked down at his tattoo, the words were still there. Wherever his soulmate was, they were fine. His stupidity in joining Apocalypse hadn’t caused anything to happen to them.

For the first time in what felt like years, he breathed.

“You’re awake.” A voice said as a tall man with brown hair entered his room. “I’ll let the Professor know.”

“Where…” his deep voice rasped and the man pointed to a glass of water sitting on the table adjacent to the cot he was situated in. He picked it up and took a few long, greedy sips, not realizing just how thirsty he was until the cool drink hit his tongue. “Where am I? What is this place?”

“This is the infirmary at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.” The man told him, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “You’re safe here.”

Warren nodded hesitantly, but didn’t say anything else. Safe. The word was almost a myth to him at this point. But at least he felt like he could rest for a little while.

***

It had been a few weeks since Apocalypse and his horsemen had almost ended the world. Erik had decided to stick around, and two of the younger horsemen, Storm and “the Angel of Death,” respectively, had been absorbed into the school’s student body. You didn’t know the Angel’s name. No one really talked to him, not even Ororo, Storm, who had been quickly adopted by your friend group.

Supposedly, Peter had tried to talk to the Angel guy, but he didn’t say anything to him. Ororo theorized he probably felt guilty about the whole thing. She did. But you all knew she didn’t know what Apocalypse was really trying to do. He probably hadn’t either, but that didn’t seem to keep the grim expression off of his face.

It was on a nice, sunny day that Xavier called you into his office, and you went down without complaint, knocking on the door a few times before he called you inside. You sat in the chair across from his desk.

“Hi, Professor. What’s going on?” You asked.

“Ah, yes. Just the empath and healer I wanted to see.” He smiled brightly. “(Y/N), if you don’t mind it too terribly, I have a small job for you.”

“Of course! What do you need?”

“I’m sure you’ve seen our newest pupil, Warren, around.”

You thought for a moment. “The, uh, guy with the wings? The big metal ones?”

“Precisely.” He nodded. “Warren…he’s been having quite a hard time adjusting.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“He came to me yesterday discussing…well, quite simply, he was wondering if any of our mutants here would be capable of…reverting him to his previous state. His wings, before Apocalypse, were made of feathers. They’ve been serving as quite a reminder to him and it’s been weighing pretty heavily on him, both literally and emotionally.”

“Yeah, I’ve, uh, caught his vibes from across campus.” You nodded. “It’s like there’s always a rain cloud hanging over his head.”

“Yes,” Xavier agreed. “It doesn’t have to be right away, but at your nearest convenience, if you see him around, would you talk to him? Tell him I sent you?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see what I can do.” You promised him.

As an empath and a healer, your first priority was helping others. And even if he was known to be a bit intimidating, you wanted to help him if you could.

So, you walked out of Xavier’s office, attended your final class of the day, and when it was over, you wandered out into the courtyard where, because of the nice weather, students were everywhere. And luckily for you, just as you suspected he might be, Warren was sitting under a tree, still sporting his leather jacket despite the warm weather.

You shielded your eyes from the sun and walked over towards him, your heart racing as you built up the courage to talk to him. So, you took a breath and said, “Hey, um, you’re Warren, right? The Professor wanted me to talk to you.”

He stared up at you for a long moment, his green eyes wide in shock. He took a breath, blinked a few times, glanced down at his wrist, and then back up at you. You could have sworn you saw tears beginning to form along his waterline, and you didn’t realize why until he said, “You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.”

You froze, your knees going weak. You glanced down at your bare forearm and read over the words he’d just said, exactly the way he’d just said them.

You’re my…No…Oh my God…I’m…I’m so sorry.

“Why are you sorry?” You whispered, lowering yourself onto the grass beside him, not trusting your legs to support your weight for much longer. Now you were the one with tears in your eyes. “Don’t be sorry.”

“You deserve so much more than me.” He insisted, his eyes locked on his boots, unwilling and unable to meet your gaze. “I can’t drag you into…this. Me.”

His emotions were heavy, a bleak blue and gray haze and you felt it radiate off of him in waves. His pain, his everything. And you felt it, deep within his chest. He thought you wouldn’t want him anyway.

“Warren…” You shook your head. “Why…Why would you think I don’t want you?”

He was shocked into silence for a few seconds, thinking over his words carefully, his jaw tense and hands shaking. “You’re a telepath?”

“Empath.” You corrected quietly. “And…a healer. Which is why Xavier sent me.”

“Oh. Right.” He swallowed thickly, nodding. “Did he…tell you why?”

“He did.” You smiled softly. “And I’m willing to try if you are.”

Finally, his eyes met yours and he could tell that you meant more than just the healing when you said it. The weak little voice in the back of his head was screaming for him to push you away like he pushed away everyone else, but looking into your eyes, a genuine and warm smile on your face, he just…couldn’t lose you.

He couldn’t lose anyone else.

***

Today was the day. Warren was sitting on a stool in the infirmary. Hank had run his vitals and the two of them were in the room waiting for you to come down after your class was over.

“(Y/N) is the one who saved you, you know.” Hank told Warren while he jotted down some notes.

“What?” Warren asked, snapping out of whatever daydream he had been caught up in. “What do you mean?”

“(Y/N) found you in the rubble. We didn’t think you would make it, but…they healed you. They insisted we bring you back here. Give you a chance.”

Warren was quiet for a long time, thinking about what that meant. Part of him wondered if (Y/N) had known back then that he was their soulmate, but he decided that would have been impossible with just their tattoos alone. Especially without context. They hadn’t known and yet, they’d still wanted the best for him.

“Didn’t know that.” Warren said, his voice soft and deep. He stared at the words on his wrist for a little longer, a hint of warmth swirling around in his stomach. Was this happiness? Was that what happiness felt like? He barely remembered anymore. But he knew there must have been a reason that when you walked through the door, his heart started beating a little bit faster.

“Sorry I’m so late. Professor Leaf kept us a little later than she was supposed to. Are you ready?” You asked taking off your backpack and setting it against the wall. As soon as you looked up at Warren, you felt the way his heart rate was increased and you didn’t miss the warmth swirled with the anxiousness. The anxiousness, you had expected. Even you didn’t know if you could pull off what you were going to attempt to do, but the warmth…it was a pleasant surprise.

“Don’t worry about it.” He told you, shaking his head. Was he…was he smiling? It was a small smile, sure, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him smile before. It looked good on him. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Alright.” You nodded, walking over towards him. Underneath where he was situated on a stool, Hank had laid out some pads from the training room, you assumed, to catch his metal feathers if they fell out rather than transforming back to his normal…feather feathers. None of you really knew how this would unfold. “Again, I’m not sure this will work. I don’t want to get your hopes up in case it doesn’t.”

“I’m not expecting it to.” Warren assured you, but it wasn’t in a rude way. “If it does, I’ll be pleasantly surprised. Cross my heart.” What he didn’t say was: You could never disappoint me. Not even if you tried.

“Okay.” You nodded, taking a few steps closer until you were standing right in front of him. He looked up at you and for the first time, you didn’t feel any negative emotions from him. Only anticipation and that lingering warmth. “Here goes nothing.”

You focused on the warmth in your own chest, the tingling yellow healing power that constantly swirled around your heart, and you forced it into your palms. You reached forward for his hands and he took the hint, his larger hands wrapping around yours.

Immediately, he gasped at the sensation, warm tingles running up his arms, down his spine. It stopped in the center of his back, right where his wings intersected with his body. At first, he didn’t feel anything. And then, he felt everything. The pleasant warmth flooded his metal wings, and one by one, the knife-like feathers fell out, each one landing with a thud against the mat situated underneath him.

Hank’s pencil jotted against his notebook as he took notes. He knew you were powerful, but he’d had no idea you were capable of something like this.

Neither had you.

Once the metal wings were gone, Warren felt a new sensation: another pair of wings, this one soft and familiar, slowly emerging from him. Part of him expected the process to be painful, like the one Apocalypse had forced upon him was, but it wasn’t. Warren chuckled to himself. Of course you would never hurt him. Not even unintentionally.

After a few minutes, the feathery wings had fully emerged, stretched out to his full former wingspan and he stared up at you in awe. You stopped your flow of power to him, but he held onto your hands, squeezing them to keep them in his grasp.

He looked back at his new wings, flexed them and moved them. They felt familiar, like they had always belonged to him.

“Thank you.” He said, giving your hands another squeeze, the warmth in his chest brighter and bolder than it had been before. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.” You told him, squeezing his hands right back in a way that caused his heart to lurch. “I’m glad I could help.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but do you mind if I keep some of these for research?” Hank asked.

“Keep all of them, if you want. I don’t want them.” Warren told him, standing up from his stool, his hands still in yours. “So, um…do you want to go grab dinner or something?”

“Sure.” You nodded, smiling up at him. “See you later, Hank.”

“Bye, guys, have a nice night.” Hank said as you and Warren walked out of his lab. He couldn’t help but notice the way one of your hands remained in one of his as the two of you left.

***

Later that night, after dinner and after you and Warren had split for the evening, you were walking back to your room from Jean and Jubilee’s and you found Warren, lingering in his doorway, his toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes widened when he spotted you and he held up a finger, indicating you should wait for him, so you did while he went into his bathroom and rinsed out his mouth, returning a few moments later.

“Hey.” He said, the word casual as it fell from his pink lips.

“Hey yourself.” You chuckled, feeling ridiculously underdressed in your pajamas. But then again, he was wearing his pajamas, too, a large black Metallica shirt and a pair of plaid pants.

“How…how are you? Feeling?” He stumbled over his words, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. You felt a wave of nervousness rush through him. “Hank said sometimes you get tired after, uh, bigger healing jobs?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded. “For whatever reason, I never get tired when I’m healing you.” You chuckled, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Well…I think I know why…”

“Heh, yeah.” He nodded, mulling over his next words very carefully. “Did you, um…I don’t know how to ask this. Did you mean what you said about…trying? About us trying…this. Trying us.”

“Of course I did.” You nodded and took a few steps closer to him. “You’re my soulmate.” You reached for his hand and he gave it to you, letting you play with his fingers. You felt the way his heart fluttered when you did. “Of course I want to try.”

“I’m broken.” He told you. “I’ve never done this before. I’m…I’m a lot, and I know that.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m a healer, huh?” You tilted your head. “And if we’re being honest, I’ve never done this before either. So how about we teach each other? Learn together?”

He smiled softly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

You let go of his hand and instead took the last few steps between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his torso. He froze for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. It had been…a long time since anyone had hugged him. But after a few moments, his arms got the hint and wrapped around you, pulling you to his chest. He rested his head atop yours and exhaled a long, long breath. And for the first time since you’d met him, you felt a wave of peace wash over him, encasing him entirely as his wings gently cocooned you in their warmth.

You felt his lips brush against your temple, pressing a soft kiss there. You looked up at him and his eyes met yours before fluttering shut as he leaned in to press his lips to yours.

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington imagine #angel #xmen angel #angel x reader #angel imagine #archangel x reader #archangel imagine #xmen imagine #marvel imagine

[halcyonstorm]

my contest submission for LH drabble week! @levihan-drabbles

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë, Kuchel Ackerman Additional Tags: Sick Levi Ackerman, Leukemia, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Car Accidents, Doctor Hange Zoë, Angst, Slight OOC, sorry Series: Part 9 of Short Fics Summary:

Hange and Levi were separated for several years for reason they couldn't help. They finally found each other.

At just 18 years old, Levi received the worst news of his life. He was sick. Extremely sick. If someone even coughed or breathed on him, he could die. He had leukemia, a disease which attacks the body’s white blood cells. Our white blood cells are our guardians, protecting us from any infection that dares to enter. He had one friend he wanted to tell the most: his best friend Hange. She had been his friend since the beginning of high school. He didn’t like her at first, but she kept showing up, eager to be his friend. He eventually warmed up to her, allowing her to sit with him at lunch, hang out after class; soon, they were inseparable.

Levi’s heart was in his throat as he mentally prepared to present the life-changing news to his best friend. “Hange, I have to tell you something,” he said, his voice trembling. Hange looked at him funny. He never spoke in such a strange manner before. Hange hesitantly sat in front of him at the empty desk, turning around in the chair to face him.

“What is it?” She asked, concerned. She was starting to get nervous.

“I’m sick,” he began, almost inaudibly. “I have leukemia… I am gonna have to leave school to be in the hospital. I get so weak, and my immune system is absolute shit… I can’t even risk getting a cold, otherwise I can die.”

Hange’s heart sunk into her stomach. She took a deep breath and looked into her lap. She had to be strong for Levi, and she knew that. 

“I’ll be here with you. We can text, call, facetime…”

“Yeah, we can,” he replied.

“We will! I’m your friend,” Hange said, grabbing his hand. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you behind.”

-

At first, Levi thought he’d be strong enough to withstand the chemotherapy. That he’d be the rare case to have no side effects. Boy, was Levi wrong. After his first two weeks, his health was tanking. It tanked so bad, in fact, that no one was allowed in the room except the doctors and nurses. Hange was one of the only people to call him daily besides his mom. Hange would Facetime him after class, telling him all about her day. Levi never had much to share from his monotonous days of drug infusions and immobilizing fatigue, but he enjoyed listening to Hange’s voice. Over time, Hange began to notice her friend change: His skin became ghostly pale and his words were mumbled. She would show him the blooming flowers in the spring, the fallen leaves in the autumn, the snow in the winter. She would show him anything to distract him from the excruciating pain he suffered each day. 

After a year of chemotherapy treatments, the toxins started to take a toll on his body. He’d find clumps of black hair on his pillow every morning, until one night he insisted his mother shave it all off. Each clump of hair reminded him of the life he should’ve had. Going to class in-person instead of online for the rest of the semester, graduating through a computer screen. He fucking hated it. His physical and mental state began to worsen each week. He was like a walking corpse, sleeping about 16 hours each day. When he was awake, he was wishing he was asleep. Each day he withered away in the hospital bed. He would miss Hange’s calls frequently due to his concerningly deep slumbers. If he managed to pick up, he would fall asleep on the phone with her. Despite her busy school schedule, she found time to text him every day. That is what kept him going.

Every day turned into once a week, which turned into once a month, and soon not at all. He had officially lost touch with the only friend in his life. He felt it was his fault: he had no energy to ever respond to her texts. He couldn’t blame her. She did try. Alone in his hospital room staring at his old texts from her, his heart ached and tears spilled down his face.

Another year had passed when his doctor came into his shabby hospital room with a look of hope. Levi felt his heart begin to race. 

“Levi, we have some good news and some bad news,” He began, shutting the door behind him. He wore a bright yellow gown with a blue face mask and latex gloves. “The good news is, your white blood cell levels are elevated. This is an improvement compared to last month’s tests. Since they’re higher, you’re well enough to receive a bone marrow transfusion from your mother, who’s a perfect match. The bad news is, there are many risks to having this transfusion. Your body can reject the bone marrow, which may cause massive complications. However, I think it is best for you to get the transplant. It is your best hope for overcoming this disease.”

With no hesitation, Levi agreed. Let’s do this thing.

He tried to reach out to Hange to tell her the news, but after a week with no response, he was disheartened. A part of him hoped she would respond. He had his family, and for that he was forever grateful, but who would he have once he left the hospital? Who would he talk to? Who would he be? He completely lost the miniscule amount of social skills he had. He did make friends with some of the patients on his floor. Unfortunately, he outlived most of them. 

Fortunately for Levi, the transplant was a success. Within the next few months, he began to regain the color in his face, and hair started to sprout on his head again. He was sleeping less frequently, he was finally able to do a lap around the hospital floor without getting too tired. He was still on chemotherapy, but he was regaining his strength, and more importantly, he was getting his life back.

Levi was in (and rarely out of) the hospital almost four years. The day he was discharged for good was a beautiful spring day. The stale air became fresh as he exited the hospital in a wheelchair. He heard the bright green trees rustling and saw some beautiful pink flowers that reminded him of Hange. He took everything for granted until he was cooped up in a hospital room for years. He was grateful to Hange for being his eyes to the outside world. He felt a breeze run through his buzz cut. He took a deep breath, tears helplessly streaming down his face. He was finally free. 

It wasn’t long before Levi started searching for his long lost friend. He hated himself for forgetting how to spell her name. Was it Hanje, Hangi, or Hange? He couldn’t quite remember. He searched her name and was shocked to find out Hange was a medical student practicing at Shinganshina General Hospital. Shinganshina General wasn’t far, so she must still live in the area. He couldn’t, however, find any of her social media accounts. She was off-the-grid. Great… he thought. She was always difficult. He was one to talk, though. He hasn't used social media in years.

Throughout the summer, Levi was able to land a job as a mechanic and he worked endlessly. He had to repay the debt he placed his parents in. His mother especially hated the idea of him working just as he finished his treatments, but Levi was persistent. Eventually, he saved enough money to send monthly deposits to his mom and move out. He couldn’t have his mom taking care of him anymore after all she sacrificed for him. He had made enough money on his own to afford a cheap apartment two blocks away from her house. 

After getting settled, Levi told himself he couldn’t begin college without knowing about Hange’s whereabouts. He decided maybe if he drove to Shinganshina city, he would be able to find her somehow. Someone ought to know her… He got in his car one evening, punched in a diner’s address in Shinganshina, and started to drive. As he drove, he started to realize his plan was stupid. What, am I gonna stalk her at the hospital?

 After finishing a 10-hour shift at the shop, he impulsively drove past his block and hit the highway. The highways were ruthless that Friday night. He had never been to Shinganshina before on his own. He drove, hovering his head over the steering wheel with his elbows tightly tucked to his sides. The speed limit signs read “65 MPH''; however, everyone was quickly steering around him, going way over 75. He was very tempted to turn around in spite of his impetuous road trip; but he couldn’t find an opportunity to do so.

On the other side of the road, the two lines merged into one. One of the drivers did not recognize this, and suddenly swerved onto the other side of the road where Levi was driving. Perhaps if Levi didn’t work so hard that day, there was a slight chance it could’ve been avoidable. The last thing he saw were bright fluorescent headlights before he was knocked unconscious.

-

“We checked his driver’s license. His name is Levi Ackerman, age 22, victim of a head-on vehicle collision. He was wearing his seatbelt and had an airbag. He may have suffered a SCI and concussion. His heart and lung sounds are normal although his sternum and ribs may be broken,” A paramedic announced as they wheeled the unconscious man through the glass doors of the emergency room. 

“Get him up to imaging. We need to do a MRI, CAT scan, and x-ray STAT!” the doctor replied, taking her stethoscope to listen to his chest. She recognized the man right away but allowed her feelings to be suppressed for that crucial moment. Of course she recognized this man. He was her long lost friend, after all.

After finishing the tests, Levi was brought to a hospital room where he was changed into a hospital gown. Dr. Hange Zoe and Dr. Erwin Smith discussed the results: MRI showed signs of a concussion; CAT scan showed no signs of hemorrhaging; x-ray showed a cracked sternum and ribs 4 and 5 were broken. No signs of broken extremities, however he presented with ecchymosis on the bony prominences, such as his hips, knees, and collarbones.

As Levi awoke about two hours later, groaning loudly.

“My chest!” he complained, finding it hard to move. The two doctors turned around to find the patient had regained consciousness.

“Hello, Levi,” Dr. Smith began. “You were in a car accident. You’re at Shinganshina General Hospital. I am Dr. Erwin Smith, and this is my intern, Dr. Hange Zoe.” Levi’s eyes widened when he announced her name. 

“H-Hange…” he whispered, attempting to sit up but failing. Dr. Smith placed his hand gingerly on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to sit up. Just relax. How is your pain? We can give you some medication.”

“It’s fucking horrible. Please,” He whimpered, grimacing. Dr. Smith nodded, leaving the room. Hange immediately grabbed a chair, sitting next to her patient, but more importantly her friend.

“Levi, dammit what happened?” She said softly, looking at him. His face was not scratched, it was just the rest of his body that was injured.

“What happened to you?!” He retorted, looking her in the eyes. She could tell he was hurt, not just physically. “So much for not losing you...” 

“I was texting you as much as I could, Levi,” she explained, feeling guilty. “I had lost my phone and got a new one, but I couldn’t remember your number. I tried to find you online but I couldn’t… I am so sorry.” She hesitantly grabbed his hand. He didn’t flinch or pull away, but he squeezed her hand.

“I was too sick to reply,” he said. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s not-” A knock rang on the door and Hange stood up almost on cue. 

“On a scale of 0-10, 0 being no pain and 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever felt, how would you rate your pain?” She asked, switching the topic.

“A big fat 10,” he groaned. Dr. Smith wheeled in an electronic machine with a wire and handle attached.

“This is a patient-controlled analgesia pump. You can push it as many times as you’d like to help alleviate your pain. You will not overdose since it has a set amount of medication you can receive per hour. Also, we have some acetaminophen for you.” Levi downed the pills as soon as it was handed to him. Dr. Smith hooked the tubing up to his IV and handed him the button.

“Hange, gather your information on your patient and then meet with me in the conference room.” Dr. Smith left the room, Hange hesitantly looking at her friend again.

“Let me just do a quick physical assessment,” she muttered to herself, grabbing her pen light. As she did her assessment, he admired her. Being a doctor really did suit her. She was wearing a white lab coat with her name embroidered into it. As she would move his gown around to assess his heart and lung sounds, his breath hitched when he felt the tips of her fingers touch his bruised chest. He looked at her face as she worked. She simultaneously looked the same and different. Different in how she wore her hair, in the shape of her glasses, and she stood taller, more confidently. Same in her eyes never losing their sparkle, her focused pouty face, as well as her smile. That breathtaking smile never changed.

Once she finished, she cleaned off her materials and tucked them away.

“Levi, you’ll be kept at the hospital overnight to monitor your heart on the EKG. If you are able to walk in the morning, you will be discharged. Do you have anyone you can call?”

He thought of his mother. He thought of the burden he crushed her with. He decided to deal with this on his own.

“I live alone,” he replied, looking towards the foot of the bed.

“I can stay with you,” She offered instantly. Levi’s face flushed as he met her eyes. “I-I mean… if you want! You have a concussion. You can’t drive yourself or be left alone.”

“Isn’t that like… against the rules?”

“...I am not working tomorrow. I can pick you up and we’ll go from there. Since you won’t be in the hospital for long, I don’t think it’ll be an issue.” The corners of Levi’s mouth curled upwards.

“That is fine with me. Let’s do it.”

The next day, Levi was able to do a lap around the hospital floor. He walked around with one of the nurses to make sure he didn’t collapse. He was ready to go home. Correction: He was ready to go home with Hange.

Hange went to his hospital room in her normal clothes. Her style changed. She used to wear baggy t-shirts and jeans. She looked more mature in her white button-up top and black slacks. He had to prevent his mouth from opening when he saw her. She was beautiful, but of course he would never mention it. Hange walked down to the entrance of the hospital with the nurse and Levi. She went to get her car. A few minutes later, she arrived in her dark red Honda.

“Levi, you just have to direct me to your house…” She began, tapping at the car’s GPS. He gave the address and she punched it in.

“Hange? Why are you doing this for me?” He asked, almost by accident. She shifted the car into Drive.

“I… never stopped thinking about you, you know,” She began, driving away from the hospital. “Even though we lost touch, I still hoped to meet you again someday. You are the reason I wanted to be a doctor… and whenever I lost hope, I thought of you. Whether you know it or not, you pushed me to keep going.” He looked at her blushing face.

He was shocked by what she said. He felt the same. “Me too,” he confessed, looking in his lap. “Your calls saved my life. You were the only one who stuck around. I will never forget that.”

He was never one to say what he meant, but knowing he had the courage to speak those words to her, Hange felt a strong urge to kiss his lips. She always had feelings for him. Her feelings never changed, despite their time apart. In fact, it only confirmed her feelings for him even more.

“Even before I was hospitalized, I took everything for granted…” Levi said. “I have been wanting to tell you something ever since my diagnosis…” Hange felt her heart skip a beat as he spoke. 

“Thank you for being there for me.”

At the red light, Hange looked at him and squeezed his hand firmly. She noticed his cheeks were dusted with a red blush. 

“I’ll always be here for you.” 

He met her eyes, those radiant hazel eyes. He took advantage of the long stoplight to kiss the woman’s lips. He couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He swore he’d tell her how much he meant to him one of these days. And God, her lips were soft and velvety and everything he’d imagined they’d be, but ten times better. She was shocked at first, but kissed him back. His lips were a little chapped from his rough night, but they were warm. She dreamt of this moment for years (as did he). It was better than how she thought it’d be too. She was intrigued by the quiet boy in school ever since she met him. Maybe she thought he’d lack passion, but it was the opposite. The kiss was full of passion and relief; after years of being in love with each other from a distance, they melted into each other. Suddenly, there was a beep behind her; the light had turned green. Hange chuckled, starting to drive again.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting to do that.”

#i hope this is not confusing... #also its slightly ooc #sorry #levihan #levihan fic #levihan angst #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi x hanji #aot #snk #aot fic #snk fic

[thisiskatsblog]

Lgbt Larries weren’t driven out Kat, they were driven to Harry. It’s still happening. You asked what’s happened to Larries since GBA. We stopped questioning once solo Harry launched and especially when it became clear Louis was paying the price. He still is but Larries don’t care about anything but Larry which means they can’t afford to back RL Louis. Now you’re afraid to look anything in the eye because it’s going to hurt. That’s what’s happened to Larries. It’s hard remembering the glory days.

- How did that video drive any LGBTQ+ Larry to Harry I wonder... ? I mean, I agree they deliberately allowed some “LBGT” mist to hang over Harry but the Larries? No way. All these fucking Xander anons tell a different story. What they did is try to make us believe they broke up and dangle a rainbow carrot - but anyone who didn’t buy the breakup? “Believe the breakup! Harry was with Xander/Camille/is bi”; “do you love LGBTQ+? what are you fucking doing with Louis he doesn’t support LGBTQ+ he’s a homophobe” - yes I have been subject to all of this, but it’s deliberately NOT accepting Larries. Harry is still closeted, allowed to look bi, nonbinary, but not allowed to look gay, or be seen to be with Louis.  And I have also gotten loads of of “you should hate Harry for what he’s done to Louis”, “you’re not really supporting Louis if you still love Harry”. Again, saying that you are only really supportive of “RL Louis” as you say, if you don’t buy Larry anymore. People are being divided, Larries are being deligitimized, and driven out. Something with the Larry thing is very threatening to someone. It’s try make them believe they were wrong, if that doesn’t work divide, but in any case do everything you can to conquer. And it didn’t work, because, again, as I see it, Louis’ fandom is full of people who are still convinced that Louis and Harry are together. 

- I didn’t ask what happened to Larries since GBA - that’s a projection of your thoughts. I was literally asking “what the fuck happened to us in fall 2014?”. I don’t consider GBA the glory days, I knew it was a plant and it felt like one big mindfuck. Hence the question: “what the fuck was that?”. I am complaining of the mindfucking tactics that were used at that specific time, not of the current state of the fandom - even if I agree that that also leaves things to be desired, and it’s still a mindfuck.  

- I have a feeling when you say “we”, you don’t really mean “we” or to include yourself in that... , which is clear as you quickly move to “you” where you start to make accusations. 

- It’s clear that there are strong dividing forces at work in the fandom, but honestly, anon, you are making yourself part of them by insisting that it’s black or white, Louis or Harry, and when you believe they are still together it’s really Harry and not really Louis, not RL Louis. Your underlying assumption is that Harry is to blame for all the difficulties Louis is facing, and I simply don’t see why that would be true. 

I am very, very strongly convinced they are still together - I simply don’t know when they would have broken up.

I am also very strongly convinced that Louis had made his choices to the best of his knowledge and ability, and I support him in these choices

I am further absolutely adamant that there are plenty of Larries who support Louis from the bottom of their hearts. Who see his challenges, who see what Syco’s hold over 1D has cost him, and who will support him whatever it takes.

They simply don’t blame Harry for any of this. 

I am really not too blind to see that Harry is getting more support, that Harry was lined up as the solo star ever since 1D times, that Harry’s rainbowfriendly marketing rode on the coattails of Rainbow Direction, while Louis was actually the first to support that, and got harshly admonished for doing so in the end. 

Is that fair? Fuck no. 

Is that Harry’s fault? I don’t think so. 

The power is, and always was, with the label, and the management. We do not know the limited choices they had. Harry is and never was in a position to “give” Louis a record contract on the exact same terms as his own. 

I trust that they negotiated the best deal for both of them that they could. And that this deal is shittier for Louis than it is for Harry probably has to do with a large number of things, including marketability, where record execs clearly believe more in Harry, and also - painful to look in the eye but it needs to be said - past choices. When Louis sings “I’m sorry that I gave into the pressure” I believe he means it - he is seriously not the kind to apologize if it’s not sincere. That said, the pressure is the thing that’s wrong about all this, they shouldn’t have put that pressure on them when they were so young,  and I have to say I was very relieved to know he says that too, meaning he knows not to blame himself even if he apologizes - cause none of this is his fault. And so that is what I think Louis’ life and choices are: being given an unfair set of options, with which he is doing the best he can. And, admirably, he is not blaming Harry for being offered better options. 

A story from my personal life anon. I am a smart kid, I studied hard, I did everything I needed to, and I wrote a PhD. My brother is also smart, he also studied hard, he did everything he needed to and wrote a PhD. My brother is a professor. And I am a woman, and I am not. Does that make me hate my brother? No. Do I think my brother should not have taken that position? Fuck no. Because at every step of the way, he recognized that he had privilege that I didn’t have. He knows me. He knows my talents. And he could see it wasn’t fair. If I am mentally healthy today, it’s because he always validated and supported me. His support and his belief in me helped me “let go” of my dream to make it in academia. If we had been in the same field or he could have done anything, he would have. But he was not in such a position. All of his PhD students are women, and he fights for them and their options. He does what he can with the privilege he knows he has.

I am not saying Louis needs to let go of his dreams. The opposite. He was given a shot, and he is not throwing it away, and when I see him taking it, it makes me very very happy. 

I am saying that, yes, I know from experience, it can be incredibly bitter, and painful to see someone you grew up with, who you consider your equal, who considers you their equal, unfairly being given chances while you are being slandered and nullified. Trust me, my experience was horrendous and the person who barred me from academia comparable to the likes of Simon Cowell. If I had two silver bullets... well I wouldn’t waste them on these two irrelevant nobodies, Trump and Putin (or that Chinese guy) are really the bigger problems here, the two others can both go and die as people no one will remember for anything of consequence. 

But back to my point: if you really love that person, it will be a bitter pill to swallow, but you will not hate them for it. If they love you, they will support you, and that in itself will validate you, and you will support them, and you will make them aware, and they will use their position to the best of their ability. I am confident that Harry supports Louis to the best of his ability, and I think that people who see that differently, may, perhaps, be overestimating his power, and/or overestimating their knowledge about what happened behind the scenes. 

All of that said, back to the video: I am also confident that Harry wants to support women and his LGBTQ+ fans in particular-  what he did with that video yesterday was NOT revolutionary, and was really not using his position to the best of his ability to empower any woman here, wlw or other . Everyone has blind spots, and he hit one there - even if, overall, I am still confident he wants to support women, and his LGBTQ+ fans, and that, therefore, we can expect better of him in the future. 

Sometimes things are black & white - but a lot of the time they are grey. You can love two people at the same time, even if they have different and sometimes conflicting interests. Two people who have different and sometimes conflicting interests can still love eachother and work through that and live with that in some way. One person can do things that conflict with other things they do or stand for, and that doesn’t mean they are a bad person. Living with that “greyness”, with that “conflict”, is a great challenge, but it’s a good thing to learn to do, and one of the reasons why I admire Louis so much, is for his ability to be so genuine,  to connect with his audience, to come across as very authentic, despite all the conflict that’s been created between who  he is and his values, and his public image, and despite the conflict between the adversities in his life, and what his career demands. I hope we can all take that as an example. 

#that got very long #but i am very adamant about this #i know #in my bones #they love eachother #and they want us here for them both #I just KNOW that #and i will die on the hill of on the one hand and on the other #and and #yes and #maybe but also #it's not perfect but it's good and i believe it can get better #Anonymous #ask

[ruddcatha]

Guardian Chapter 15

SURPRISE, the next chapter is here!

Things are getting intense, can Kagome handle the pressure?

WARNING, ANXIETY AND DEPRESSION ARE THEMES IN THIS CHAPTER

Thank you again to @heavenin–hell for your inspiration, I hope this story does your work justice.

posted on Ao3: Here / FFN: Here

Guardian has been Nominated for the Feudal Connection  2020 3rd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards!  Thank you to all the supporters of this story!!  Voting is now open and  runs through August 12, 2020, click here to vote.

Nominated for: Best AU/AR

Kagome would never forget how she had felt that day as they were ushered out of the weapons lab, Sango, Kikyo, Miroku and Inuyasha circling her, hiding her from the Ookami who lived in the Compound who had come running at the massive surge of energy.  She was grateful she hadn’t hurt anyone, although it had been a close call.  She could see how tired Miroku and Kikyo were, it took a tremendous amount of energy to place a barrier, and they had needed to form large ones… and FAST.

As soon as they reached the cars Inuyasha had bundled her into one of the back seat with him, holding her as closely as he could.  She hadn’t been able to process anything he said to her, between the massive drain of energy and the shock, her mind had gone into shut down.  One thought kept haunting her.

She had nearly hurt Inuyasha.

The tears she had kept at bay broke through the dam and streamed down her face as she began to shake.

“Shhhh, Kagome, I’ve got you.” Inuyasha’s voice broke as he whispered to her, one hand stroking her hair while the other held her to his chest.  “I’ve got you.” 

Kagome felt his yokai surrounding her, gently pulsing around her in a soothing fashion.  Slowly awareness began to seep back in.  She looked out the window and saw Miroku and Kikyo in a heated conversation, well, it looked heated from the way Miroku was moving his hands, Kikyo had gone into priestess mode, showing no expression and staying still, without any errant movements.  Shippo was talking to Jinenji, he seemed to be the only excited by what had happened, she could almost see the young man quivering with excitement.  Rin stood off to the side with her head tilted, watching Kagome through the glass.

Toga, Sesshomaru and Koga stood near the entrance to the weapons facility, deep in discussion.  She saw Koga hand a wrapped package to Toga with a nod before all three looked in her direction. The sheer anger in Sesshomaru’s eyes frightened Kagome and she turned to hide her face against Inuyasha’s neck. 

Toga watched the pair carefully, the sinking feeling of dread growing at what he saw.  Inuyasha’s yokai had enveloped Kagome, surrounding her frantic and spiking energy. 

He had seen the difference in her energy the moment Inuyasha had reached her in the chaos in the weapons lab.  He had watched as their energies had melded together, the golden colors blending and deepening the longer Inuyasha held her and had seen how quickly Kagome’s energy had begun to calm. 

Spiritual energy and yokai should have been incompatible, and with Kagome’s instability Inuyasha’s unconscious actions should have increased the instability, putting them all at risk.

But… it hadn’t.  Kagome’s energy hadn’t rejected Inuyasha’s. 

The implications of what that meant for his son terrified him.  He only knew of one pairing between a powerful priestess and a yokai, Midoriko and her mate Hoshiyomi.  He was one of only a few that knew they had been mated, that Midoriko had needed Hoshiyomi’s yokai to be able to fully control her abilities.

Inuyasha was strong, but as a hanyou, would he be strong enough to be Kagome’s stability? 

Kagome stayed wrapped in Inuyasha’s arms until they were back at the university, and even then, she refused to leave Inuyasha’s arms.  He picked her up and carried her to her room, and sat down with her on her bed, just holding her in his arms, rocking her back and forth.  Sango had entered the room at one point, but Kagome had tuned everything out but Inuyasha.  Every time he moved to leave, she let out a soft whimper and held him closer. 

He lay down on the bed, cradling her in his arms, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead until she fell into a fitful sleep, once again plagued with dreams.  This time, when she woke in terror and reached out for him, he was there to sooth her back to sleep.  With his yokai surrounding her like a cocoon, she finally fell into a dreamless slumber, knowing that Inuyasha was there to protect her.

After that day, the training sessions had become torture.  If she thought Sesshomaru had been hard on her before, it was nothing compared to his cutting and biting remarks now.  He had made her demonstrate move after move, throw after throw, criticizing her form, her technique, her lack of strength, her lack of control.  After the first day Inuyasha had snarled back, but Kagome’s hand on his chest had him backing down.  She couldn’t fault Sesshomaru for his criticism, he was right, and she knew it.

She had taken to isolating herself during breaks, she couldn’t sit still, she just couldn’t.   She didn’t want to feel their stares, hear the whispers.  They all knew now, and of course the yokai were afraid of her.   She had seen the distance they kept during training, surrounding her with human partners to keep the yokai out of range.  So, she had wandered, she knew the living quarter well but only knew the training room on that level.  Exploring gave her something to do, something to focus on.  One room had caught her attention, it was empty except for one item, a light gray vessel with white and black flowers that looked vaguely familiar.  She saw the sutras around the door, whatever the vessel was, it was well protected.

She felt a tinge of guilt, she had been actively avoiding Sango, but she needed to do this, to train, to get stronger, alone.  She knew that Sango would have joined her training sessions, but… Sango was one of her oldest friends, she couldn’t bear to keep disappointing her too.

Inuyasha had insisted on coming over each night with dinner, watching her until she choked some of it down.  She started running every night round the campus, waiting until Inuyasha left her apartment before taking off.  For the past two nights she had run for hours, she could not get the looks of fear, the anger in her ally’s faces, the sheer terror in Inuyasha’s eyes.  She knew realistically the terror had been for her, not of her, but that hadn’t helped her dreams any.  She would stumble home around two in the morning, and every night she jolted awake around four.  Now, instead of seeing a yokai kill Inuyasha in front of her in her dreams, she was the direct cause of his death.  She had watched as she had purified him, or her shot missed its target to strike Inuyasha, both times watching as he turned to ash in front of her.  

She refused to go back to sleep, refused to face that in her dreams.  She was spending her early mornings trying to meditate by Sanshiro Pond as she listened to the world come back to life, the song of the birds strengthening as it moved to the early dawn hours.  Her concentration waned as the song of a new bird caught her attention.

FUCK.

Every single noise distracted her, pulled her focus.  Tears streamed down her face as she curled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.  She stared at the lake, barely seeing the majesty of the sunrise around her. 

She had never had a problem focusing on a task before in her life, and now, when it mattered more than ever, that concentration was just… gone.  The past few months, finding out about her spiritual powers, realizing the world was more than just what she saw, that yokai, creatures of myths and legends, walked the earth, went to school with her, that she was quickly falling in love with one, the physical exertion… 

In the middle of all this, she had lost Kagome.

Now she was just the sum of everyone’s expectations.  And she kept fucking letting them down.

She tipped her head back and let out a scream before curling back in on herself. 

She wasn’t some superhuman, she wasn’t a superhero, she was Kagome, just Kagome.  But she didn’t know who Kagome was anymore, and that thought terrified her.

The alarm on her phone broke her concentration, and she pulled it out, the screen blurry through her tears.

Shit. She hadn’t realized it was already Wednesday.  It was her seven am wakeup notification, she had Evolutionary Anthropology at eight thirty, and the professor did NOT like when they were late.  Kagome stood and wiped the tears from her eyes.  With effort she pushed her emotions down, forcing them out of her thoughts.   Thankfully, most of her credits were field study with Totosai, but she had this one physical class for the semester. 

She ran back to her apartment, sighing in relief when she did not hear Sango up and about as she snuck into her bedroom.  She hurried to get ready, as she exited the bathroom Sango handed her a cup of coffee and Kagome pulled the mask of the old Kagome over her, going through the motions of their usual morning routine with a smile on her face. 

It wasn’t until she left the apartment that she allowed the mask to fall, the smile to fade.  She had been getting good over the past month at hiding behind the mask.  She was reminded of a saying she had seen on Facebook, faking a smile is the most painful lie, but it’s the most effective way to hide from all the questions. 

She couldn’t let them know, couldn’t let them see.  If you smile broad enough, no one sees the tears.

She was getting exceptionally good at hiding them. 

She made it to class with minutes to spare, sliding into a seat at the back of the room.  Her classmates had noticed that she had started to draw to the back, but none of them knew her well enough to know how unusual that was.  Sitting in the back allowed her to zone out, to keep her attention on other matters… like saving the world. 

She pulled out her notebook and started making lists, a new habit she had picked up over the past month.  Lists of moves to practice, to do lists around the apartment, lists of places she wanted to show Inuyasha… and the new one, lists of where she had messed things up in her dreams.  That was the most important list to her right now, she had become almost obsessive with analyzing her dreams in detail, focusing on where something had gone wrong, she lost a weapon, she didn’t adjust her weight right, and its correlating list of what to practice to keep that from happening.  Her professor’s voice droned on and on in the background, it quickly became white noise until the words finally registered with Kagome.

“… forget, your final term papers are due this Friday by midnight.  The information is in the syllabus, and I hope you have all been working on them as the semester went on.” 

Kagome’s eyes went wide, and she pulled out the syllabus.  There it was… the research project, 30% of the grade.  Twenty pages in length with at least ten citations to peer reviewed articles and studies, due that Friday. 

She stared at the paper in shock.  She had lost track of time, how… how was it early July already?  She saw the rest of the class packing up and felt panic rise again.

“Kagome, could you see me please?”  Kagome’s head snapped up to see the professor gesturing to her.  Kagome hesitated, then walked to the front of the room.

“Kagome, you haven’t submitted your research topic for approval, I do hope you have been working on it.”  Kagome felt the walls of the room closing in around her as her panic rose.  “You have chosen your topic, correct?”

Kagome took a breath.  “Yes sensei.  My paper is focused on the behavioral changes of the Edo Period of rural settlements as they transitioned from worshiping yokai to Buddhism and Shinto beliefs.”  She crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping it would be ok… would maybe Koga and Shippo would be able to help her.

Her professor nodded.  “I look forward to your paper Kagome, that is a fascinating topic.”

‘Now I hope I can do this in the next two days.’ Kagome thought to herself as she rushed to grab her bag and hurry out the door.  She needed to get to the library.

She flew out of the building at a near run, only to come to a stop as she saw Inuyasha leaning against a tree, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. Her eyes lit up at the offering of caffeine.

“My hero.” She cried out, running to him, and taking the offered coffee.

Inuyasha smirked as he watched her down half the cup without stopping. 

“And here I thought you were excited to see me.” He teased.  Kagome shot him a look as she finished the coffee., then leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I am, I’m just more excited for the caffeine.” 

Inuyasha let out a playful growl at her words, and his arms banded around her waist to pull her against him.  That damn smell of decay was growing stronger, and it was driving him crazy trying to identify what was causing it.  After the visit to the Ookami on Sunday, it had gotten more pronounced, cloying, and overpowering her natural scent.  He cautiously tried to sniff out the location of the scent.

Kagome saw his nostrils flare gently and a shiver went through her.  He was the one person, the one being, she needed to protect.  She quickly rose onto her toes, sealing her mouth against his, her bag dropped to the ground as she tangled her hand into his hair.  She felt his rumble of pleasure go through her as she let all the fear, all the anxiety faded away, losing herself in his kiss. 

He made her feel alive, his arms were the only place she did.  She pressed herself even closer to him, elation running through her as she felt, really felt, his interest in her, the growing pressure against her stomach as he deepened the kiss with a growl.   He lifted her off the ground and pulled her even closer, and she stopped thinking at all.

Inuyasha lost himself in her kiss.  Kagome had been quiet and withdrawn for the past few days, and he had missed her fire, her spirit.  He had missed her, even when they were in the same room, he missed her.  The scent of ginger flooded his nose, drowning out all other scents as he picked her up and held her against him.  He could feel his blood rushing to his lower body, felt himself begin to swell against her and heard her soft moan.  The feel of her pressed against his body, her heat seeping through his clothes, Kami he wanted… more.  He released her lips to press kisses down her neck before licking the junction of her neck and shoulder.  He felt more than heard her gasp as he repeated the movement.  

He felt his teeth lengthen, drawn by the feel of her blood.  Her pulse called to him, and he scraped his fangs against her skin, he growled as she tilted her head to give him better access with a broken whimper, her hand holding his face against her neck.  The taste of her skin was addicting, he needed more of it.  He nipped her skin, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to leave a mark.  He pulled his head back and licked his lips, his eyes never leaving that small section of her skin, the need to bite her nearly overpowered him.

With a grunt he forcibly pulled himself away from her neck to quickly lower her to the ground and turn away from her.  He placed his hand on the tree next to him to ground himself.  His claws tore into the bark of the tree, his breathing broken at the effort to bring himself back under control.

 ‘What… what just… what just happened.’ Kagome felt herself shaking as she stared at Inuyasha’s back.  She didn’t understand why he kept pulling away.

‘What… what am I doing wrong?’ Fear ran through her as tears began to spill down her cheeks.  She wiped at her cheeks, trying desperately to keep him from noticing, even though she knew it was a futile effort.  The salty smell of Kagome’s tears broke through Inuyasha’s desperation, and he pulled his claws out of the tree, shaking it to remove splinters before he turned to her.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.  His ears drooped as he faced her.  Kagome pushed the hurt down, forcing herself to push it to the side to deal with later… when she was alone.  She didn’t want him feeling worse than he obviously already did.  She didn’t need that on top of everything else.  She crossed to him to him and raised a hand to his cheek.

“For what Yash?” she said softly with a smile as he nuzzled his cheek into her hand before turning and giving a soft lick to her palm.  He pulled her close, the lingering scent of her tears blending with the soft smell of decay had him on edge.

“I don’t mean to dishonor you.” He said as he rested his head atop hers.  “I just… I lose my head around you.”

Kagome pulled out of his embrace to tilt her head at him. 

“What do you mean dishonor me?” she demanded, her voice sharpening before she could reign in her confusion.

He sighed.  “I want to court you properly.  To respect you.”

She smiled.  “Oh Yash.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek before taking his hand and pulling him down the path.

“Come on, walk me to the library?”

“The library?” Inuyasha was confused.  “We have training today.”

Kagome pulled away to turn to him.  “I can’t Yash.  I have a paper due Friday that’s a big portion of my grade, I won’t be able to train until its done.” 

He captured her hand again, raising it to place a kiss on the back of it.  “Then let me escort you my lady.” 

Kagome listened to Inuyasha as he talked about Sesshomaru’s latest exasperation with Jaken and Shippo, who had been joining them that week, the mask of old Kagome slipping once more into place as she smiled.

----------------------

The next two days were a blur, Kagome existed in a sea of caffeine.  She could not remember a time when she had had so many cups of coffee, energy drinks, or 5-hour energy shots in such a short period of time. She had not slept in more than forty-eight hours, but she was on page fifteen of the twenty-page paper.  Her bedroom looked like a disaster zone, papers and books covered the floor, clothing was tossed on the bed and towards the hamper.  The only breaks she allowed herself had been a thirty-minute run to clear her head and taking twenty minutes to force down the food that Inuyasha had brought her Wednesday and Thursday evening.  She looked, bleary eyed, at the clock. 

It was seven am on Friday… she had seventeen hours to finish the paper, edit it and create the bibliography. 

She walked to the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee.  She downed the cup of coffee in one quick rush and stumbled back to her computer.  Just seventeen more hours….

She could do this.

@willowandfog​  @smmahamazing @clearwillow  @sticky-llama-perfection @alannada @shinidamachu @cstormsinukagblog@superpixie42 @nartista @neutronstarchild​ @i-dream-of-soup​ @hnnwnchstr  @fawn-eyed-girl​ @ all-my-cuffs-have-buttons @liz8080​ @pivora96​

#Guardian AU #inspired by Heavinin--hell #ruddcatha #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag #inukag fanfic #Kagome

[the-odd-job]

Brotherly Love

Rating: Explicit Warnings: None Category: M/M, Other Fandom: Transformers, Guild Wars 2 Characters: Sideswipe, Sunstreaker Relationships: Sideswipe/Sunstreaker Additional Tags: PWP, Twincest, Sylvari (Guild Wars), Nightmare Court (Guild Wars), Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Anal Sex, Oral Sex Words: 1960

Do sylvari have dicks and buttholes? Idk but they sure do now.

Sideswipe just got back and already Sunstreaker can't keep his hands off of him.

Just how he likes it.

“You’re back.”

The words were the first thing Sideswipe heard when he climbed up to the uppermost pool of the natural baths at the back of Brokenhope Village. He couldn’t mistake the decidedly pleased tone of voice.

Sideswipe glanced up as he came to the edge of the highest pool overlooking all the rest, grinning at his brother. “Looks like I am, yeah.”

Sunstreaker waded over and Sideswipe began to take his armor off, piece by piece. The yellow haired twin pulled up to sit on the pool’s edge, watching the process without a word. Sideswipe could feel his gaze scorching on every inch of naked body that was bared, black bark becoming visible from the layers of red, black, and white armor. He set the pieces next to Sunstreaker’s heavier golden hued armor, already neatly piled on the water’s edge.

Then he slipped into the water himself, Sunstreaker following suit only to wrap him straight into his arms. Sideswipe laughed at the strong embrace, wrapping his own arms around his brother and burying his face into his twin’s neck. “Miss me~?” he asked, nipping at the leaf folded along Sunstreaker’s neck.

He earned a deep rumble for his trouble, something halfway between a laugh and a growl. “Always do.”

“You’re the one who told me to bugger off on some ass end mission,” Sideswipe pointed out.

“Only because it was necessary. I needed someone who I could trust to get it done. Everyone else is… Incompetent.” Sideswipe laughed again, twice so when he felt Sunstreaker’s hands beginning to wander. Yeah, speaking of ass.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I can confirm it got done,” he purred back at his twin, leaning back enough to smirk in Sunstreaker’s face. His back arched when Sunstreaker grabbed his aft with both hands, and no sooner than that had Sunstreaker already descended, slotting their mouths together. Sideswipe mewled when his brother demanded entrance with a harsh nip and happily gave everything his twin asked for, opening his mouth for Sunstreaker’s tongue to delve inside.

And holy pits but he would never get used to how well Sunstreaker knew him and all of his likes and dislikes. Rough and demanding alternated with loving little nips that turned Sideswipe into a puddle of goo in no time, hanging onto Sunstreaker for dear life. Sunstreaker merely pulled him tighter against him, their chests scraping together and Sunstreaker’s hands pulling their crotches ever closer.

When Sunstreaker pulled away from his mouth to bite at his neck instead, Sideswipe took the reprieve to slip his hand between them, moving the foliage covering Sunstreaker’s crotch aside enough to wrap his hand around Sunstreaker’s quickly hardening length. Sunstreaker rumbled in return, thrusting once into his hand.

“Why don’t you let me work that up the rest of the way?” Sideswipe suggested with a leer. When Sunstreaker’s head rose from his neck (that probably had more than a few teeth marks now), Sideswipe butted their foreheads together, red eyes meeting yellow ones.

Sunstreaker laughed in the throaty way that was reserved just for Sideswipe before pulling him along, sitting on the next of the pool. “Well, let’s see how you plan to do that,” he said with a challenging raise of just one finely carved eyebrow.

That was all the goading and invitation Sideswipe would’ve ever needed. He dropped to his knees in the water, brushing the leaves off Sunstreaker’s crotch the rest of the way and worked his hand up and down his twin’s length a few times. It stiffened noticeably under his touch, but Sideswipe was far from satisfied with just that.

With a shit eating grin up at Sunstreaker, and without ever breaking eye contact, he leaned in and slipped the tip into his mouth. Sunstreaker did that rumbling noise again, staring down at him with an intense expression.

Sideswipe always did love attention.

He sank down on his brother’s cock the rest of the way, letting the head of it slide into his throat. His long dead gag reflex said nothing.

Then he pulled back until only the tip was in his mouth and repeated the process.

He got into the rhythm of it in no time, humming away as he worked his brother’s cock. He could feel Sunstreaker stiffening under the hands he’d laid on his thighs, but Sunstreaker didn’t look away from him, nor did his expression change.

Unnerving to some, maybe, but Sideswipe loved the searing focus.

He didn’t need to continue long, as much as he would’ve loved to go the rest of the night, before Sunstreaker put a hand under his chin and gently pulled him away from his length. Sideswipe followed the guidance with nothing more than a satisfied smirk that he had gotten Sunstreaker to the point of full readiness and full hardness so quickly and in a way that was more than a little fun for the both of them. Sunstreaker smirked right back at him, rising to stand and pulling him up with him.

Then he was being kissed again, though briefly, this time. Sunstreaker pulled away soon, his cock in full display and shining wet from Sideswipe’s mouth.

Sideswipe was the one to hop onto the edge of the pool this time, spreading his legs and pulling Sunstreaker in between them. Sunstreaker allowed himself to be led easily, crowding in between his thighs, nestling his dick against his crotch, and leaning in to press their lips together again. It was Sideswipe’s turn to have his cock grabbed, Sunstreaker working the length with quick strokes until Sideswipe was moaning, rock hard and rearing to go.

And the kissing never stopped. If they hadn’t been in this exact position so many times before he would’ve thought he was going to lose his mind from the goodness of it all. Maybe one of these days he would, love and lust boiling over and driving him crazy.

On waiting for that day he grabbed at Sunstreaker, insistently pulling him ever closer. “Come on come on come on,” he chanted, panting against Sunstreaker’s mouth. He didn’t need to specify what he wanted.

Sunstreaker chuckled, but obeyed. Sideswipe could feel his hand leaving his cock, only to have the touch return a moment later a bit further down along his groin. He moaned in anticipation, shameless as he tilted his hips up to better the angle.

Not that Sunstreaker would’ve needed the help. With practiced ease he guided himself in, the tip of his cock pressing against the resistance of Sideswipe’s asshole before pushing in.

Pleasure, instant and hot and with just that lovely sting of pain to it, had Sideswipe moaning even louder as Sunstreaker thrust in deep for the first time, pressing their groins flush together. “Oh please yes,” Sideswipe breathed, letting his mouth slip from Sunstreaker’s to instead press his forehead against his brother’s shoulder as Sunstreaker started to move.

A little slow at first, just enough to get them both adjusted, before his pace quickened. In and out, out and in, every hard thrust making his toes curl. Making the whole rest of him curl, for that matter. Sideswipe slipped from Sunstreaker’s shoulder to press his head against his chest instead, wrapping his legs around his twin’s waist and digging his fingernails into his back.

Sunstreaker never made a lot of sound, unlike Sideswipe himself even now, but when he made just one strangled groan, that’s when Sideswipe knew it was good. For both of them. It had already been good for him.

Not that he ever doubted his ass pleased Sunstreaker. It always did.

“Turn over,” came the sudden order from his brother. Sunstreaker pushed him back and away from himself, his thrusts turning shallow, much to Sideswipe’s disappointment. He vocalized that disappointment with a small sound too, the corner of Sunstreaker’s mouth tilting up in return for the pathetic whine.

But he knew just how to get the most out of Sunstreaker again.

Sideswipe leaned back, catching himself on his arms before he tipped over all the way. Sunstreaker’s eyes sharpened like he already knew where this was going, and Sideswipe grinned at him as he drew his legs up, then swung one over the other in front of Sunstreaker.

All without ever letting his twin’s cock slip from his ass. He twisted over the rest of the way once his legs were sorted, letting them fall into the water. As soon as he was on his own two feet again, Sideswipe rocked back, wordlessly begging for more.

Sunstreaker didn’t keep him waiting, and judging by the new oomph behind his quickly returning thrusts, the little show he’d made out of his twin’s order had impressed someone. Sideswipe moaned deliriously as Sunstreaker rocked them both back and forth, then even more deliriously when his brother grabbed him by the back of his neck and shoved him down. His chest came to rest against the cool rock and Sunstreaker rumbled once more as he held him down and really began to lay into him.

This might be the point where he really would lose his mind. He was beyond making sound at this point, just turning his head to the side and resting his cheek against the stone, open mouth panting at the pleasure that radiated up his back and down his legs.

Sunstreaker went fast and hard and gave him no chance to get up, even if he had wanted to. He really didn’t want to, honestly. He rocked his aft back to the best of his ability to encourage Sunstreaker even further and receive even more of his brother’s cock, if that was even possible at this point. Sunstreaker felt like he bottomed with every thrust in, his crotch slamming against Sideswipe’s ass in a fucking maddening way.

Then there was a hand on his cock, the one Sunstreaker wasn’t using to press him against the pool’s edge. Sideswipe regained his voice just in time to scream when pleasure surged to its tipping point and shoved him straight over the edge. He didn’t know whether to rock back to Sunstreaker’s cock or forward against his hand, but it didn’t really matter either because his body moved with a mind of its own, moving back and forth between the two points of white hot pleasure.

Through the haze he could hear Sunstreaker grunt in the vacuum left by his own shriek, the arrhythmic clenching of his ass hole pulling his brother over the edge with him. Sunstreaker doubled over him, pressing his head against his back with a hiss.

And Sideswipe, as always, felt pride and even more satisfaction that he could be the one to draw these reactions from his usually unflappable twin.

They laid there together for a moment, both panting and gathering their bearings in the afterglow of their activities. Sunstreaker had given up on any pretenses of staying upright and laid his full weight on Sideswipe’s back, pressing him down in a way that was all kinds of not helping him climb down from his high.

The softening dick in his ass didn’t help that either. Sideswipe clenched the muscles in the area to the tune of a strangled groan from Sunstreaker and a retaliatory slap on his ass. Sideswipe giggled when Sunstreaker growled at him, “Stop doing that.”

“Wanna go again?” he asked instead of listening, wiggling his behind and peering at Sunstreaker from the corner of his eye. “You’re insatiable.” Was that fondness he heard? “And you’re so hot I can���t help it,” Sideswipe grinned, then laughed when he could feel Sunstreaker’s cock growing hard again in his ass.

“Maybe just one more round.”

Yeah right, as if they could ever stop at doing it just twice.

Sideswipe purred.

#transformers #sylvari #sideswipe #sunstreaker #twins #gw2 #guild wars 2 #nightmare court #fic #2020 #THERE'S NOTHING BROTHERLY ABOUT THIS

[myaekingheart]

kakashi for the ask game! :D

Oh this is gonna be dangerous xD (and also really fucking long I’m so sorry lmfao)

send me a character and i’ll list...

favorite thing about them It’s so hard to pick, but I think his resilience. Kakashi has genuinely been through hell and back and yet he keeps going. His character development in Naruto is one of my absolute favorite things, the way he starts out as this seemingly apathetic but deep down very guarded character who ultimately grows to love his students and make peace with his past and finally find some happiness. He’s the man who lost everything and still keeps going and maybe it’s just because I, too, am a depressed bitch but that’s always bee super comforting to me and felt very reassuring. Like if Kakashi can hit rock bottom but pull himself up out of that pit and find happiness and success, then so can I.

least favorite thing about them I don’t even know if I have a least favorite thing about him. I honestly love everything about him. I guess the closest thing I can get to a least favorite thing would be that I wish we saw more of him goofing off and having tons of fun like when he and Guy raced in Shippuden. Hearing Kakashi laugh and joke around was just so good for my soul.

favorite line Oh no there are so many, I can’t pick just one. My favorite contenders are: “Leaf Village Secret Finger Jutsu: One Thousand Years of Death!” “Behind this mask...is another mask! Pretty cool, huh?” “I’m telling you this because you don’t get it. You think you get it which is not the same as actually getting it, get it?” “Those who break the rules are scum but those who would abandon a comrade are worse than scum” “I won’t allow my comrades to die. I’ll protect you with my life. Trust me.” “It’s like an acorn.” “Sorry I’m late, I’m afraid I got lost on the path of life.” “Sorry I’m late, a black cat crossed my path and I had to take the long way around.” “For those who follow the path of revenge, it never ends well. You’ll only tear yourself apart and even if you succeed and you get your revenge, what will you get then? Nothing. Emptiness.” “So it looks like neither of us have led a charmed life exactly. But still, we’re not all that bad off. At least you and I have found new comrades to help fill the void.” “Calm down, Naruto. Slow your breathing down” (mainly because this scene just gets me every time as someone who has had severe panic attacks for twenty years lmfao) There was also another “sorry I’m late” excuse that I don’t remember exactly and cannot for the life of me find but it was from a picture I saw somewhere, looked like it was maybe from a video game? Where Kakashi said something to genin Naruto and Sakura about the path of love or something? And they’re staring at him flustered pointing insisting “That’s...a lie!” Like I can recall the image clear as day in my head but I cannot for the life of me find it.

brOTP Hands down Guy. I mean, I ship them, too, but I just really love their friendship especially. Guy just really brings out the best in him and provides this really nice foil to Kakashi’s personality. I genuinely think Kakashi would’ve been done for if not for Guy’s loyalty and optimism. Their friendship is so fun and the two of them together never fail to make me smile.

OTP Does my KakashixOC ship count? Because if it does, then that’s my OTP. I have spent way too much time and energy on their relationship for it to not be. That probably sounds super cliche and maybe a little Mary-Sue-ish but I don’t even care, Rei and Kakashi are my magnus opum and I love them. I’m also just really, really proud of the way I’ve written their relationship. So much of their bond is informed by my own relationship with my fiance, and I think my own experiences have really evolved my understanding of what real intimacy in a romantic relationship looks like. It’s not so much about flowers and chocolates and date nights as it is about caring for and comforting the person you love, spending quality time with them, making them laugh and smile, being 110% yourself around them, and providing for them in their times of need. I have never written a relationship so real and specifically raw before, and there’s a lot of intricacies that I’ve worked in as well, that just overall make me incredibly proud of the progress I’ve made on their story, and proud of the story I’ve been creating for them in general. But if an OC ship doesn’t count for OTP, I really like Kakashi with Shizune, Guy, Yamato/Tenzo, and Iruka.

nOTP Oh god I have quite a few. I really don’t enjoy focusing on negatives nor do I want to start ship wars so I’ll keep these explanations brief. I can’t stand Kakashi and Sakura, the mere thought of it makes me *this close* to puking. I take big issue with ships in general between characters that met when one of them was a child and the other an adult, though. It just comes off incredibly pedophilic to me and makes me nauseous. The other big ship I take issue with is Kakashi and Rin but that’s more of a personal issue because their relationship, and Rin’s character in general, hit way too close to home (in a very warped and psychotically symbolic way) to some really traumatic stuff I dealt with in the past that took me years and lots of therapy to deal with, and it still trips me up to this day. It’s not anything that anyone in fandom has done or anyone who ships Kakashi and Rin with each other, it’s just a matter of me noticing parallels between the ship and my own trauma that make it incedibly hard for to tolerate content of it. Just to tack these on, as well, but I also really dislike him with Hanare from the filler episode and with Kahyo from the book Lightning in the Icy Sky. The romance with Hanare just felt really disingenuous to me like I can tolerate it, but it’s not my favorite. And as for Kahyo, I blame bad writing. The fact that the book was referring to her as “the woman who has Kakashi’s heart” literally within like two pages of them meeting really pissed me off. I couldn’t even finish the book so I can’t even speak on the rest of the relationship but I just got so turned off by the entire story in general because the romance was so unbelievable and abrupt. I feel like anyone who has read my fic, though, likely has picked up on my opinions on these, though. Not that I’m writing ship hate or anything because I’m not, but there have been little plot points here and there that have kind of touched on my feelings on these ships.  

random headcanon I have way too many but here’s one of them, I guess, though this is more a musing than a headcanon. I think, when the war is over and Kakashi can finally catch his breath, he goes through a bit of an identity crisis as he comes to terms with the fact that he no longer has his sharingan. After all, he had Obito’s eye for almost twenty years. Learning to function without it is going to be incredibly difficult but not only that, so much of his identity was founded on his secondhand sharingan. Who even is he without it? Does he even recognize himself anymore? And how can he ever live up to the reputation he’s garnered over so many years now that the source of all of his power is gone for good? Yes, he was a prodigy before the sharingan and he is still capable without it, but it’s going to be a big change and take a huge toll on him and his perception of himself.

unpopular opinion I’m glad Kakashi has never been given an explicitly canon love interest. Honestly, I don’t want him to have one. As much as he deserves to find love and start a family with someone, from a fandom perspective I much prefer him being open and available. It creates a much more flexible interpretation of him and his love life so that we, the fans, can write him however we damn well please and I think that’s pretty fantastic. I think it’s safe to say that Kakashi is one of if not the most heavily shipped character in the fandom and everyone has very strong opinions on who he belongs with and even how he idenifies from a sexuality perspective. I can only imagine the uproar that would come from finally giving him a canon love interest because you absolutely cannot please everyone. In a way, I feel like Kakashi is just a character who belongs to all of us. He is something different for every single person in fandom whether that’s someone to look up to and seek guidance from, someone to protect and root for, someone to relate to and find comfort in, someone to love and/or lust after. Or in my case a precious emotional support ninja husbando. I don’t know if he would’ve had quite the same effect on fandom if he had been canonically shipped with someone from the get-go, but I’m grateful that he never was and I hope he never will be so he can continue playing the role in fandom that he has been for so many years. That probably sounds selfish, though, but I just really want him to remain a character that belongs to all of us and is not inhibited by canon in terms of who he loves and how he identifies.

song i associate with them Again, there’s so fucking many so I’m just gonna list some of my favorites. Sign by Flow Friendships by Pascal Letoublon Hospital for Souls by Bring Me the Horizon SCARECROW by My Chemical Romance Disguise by Motionless in White-- this is a big one, especially the line “sick of wearing a mask, sick of hiding my face, sick of every motherfucker that is in my way, sick of digging for answers while you bury the truth, fuck your method to my sadness, I will bury you” like it just reminds me of ANBU Kakashi specifically, but overall his character development in coming to terms with his past and crawling out of his depression, too.

favorite picture of them Again...there’s multiple x_x

#long post is long #i am so sorry lmfao #thank you for asking! <3 #kakashi hatake #naruto #my precious ninja husbando #ask memes #answered asks #kamek #ramblings

[slasherscream]

yo I dunno if this is asked or not but can you write some headcannons of Billy and Stu with a super chill Latina?

A/N: anon i’m actually so happy you sent this because i want to make it super clear that i do not just write for black readers like myself. i want to write imagines for other poc as well. we all deserve to take up fandom space not to be sappy or anything-

     billy loomis x latina!reader x stu macher       ft. that's it .... that's the whole concept 

                                                     ——————– 

What did you ever do .... to deserve this (meeting them). An unanswerable question. But there aren't many people of color in Woodsboro, CA         so they first noticed you at school, the new kid, just keeping to herself. People are already talking about you and how chill you are. You don't seem to notice. 

People tend to like things that are shiny and new in small towns which is exactly what you are. The fact that you're so unflinching about it makes you just seem even cooler. 

Stu is the one that gets caught up in the hubbub as he's one of the most popular guys in school. Billy is also popular but he doesn't        care about it. Or about anyone else who's popular (sans Stu), really. So Stu talks to you first.

Blown away by your personality. You're not sitting in the cafeteria even though you totally could and your table would fill up with people who want to get to know you instantly. Instead you're sitting in the grass under a tree .... straight chilling. Headphones on and eating your lunch in total quiet. 

Don't even get mad when he comes up to you with all his ...loud ass energy. Like he's not even being particularly loud (cause he saw how chill you were being and even he couldn't fuck up vibes like that) his energy is just loud. All you do is take off your headphones and give him a small smile and nod from your place on the ground, "sup?" 

He forgot what he was gonna say for 0.5 seconds. You turned off his extrovert, always talking brain for a solid 0.5 seconds with your cool and pretty, little smile. The talent! His brain rebooted and he'd never sat down so fast in his life. Too close to your personal space for a first meeting tbh ... shoulders... touching. But he's cute and tall so ... you let it slide. 

He talks to you the whole lunch period and Billy is wondering where the fuck he is honestly. Y'all are late to class and you all happen to have the next class together. Billy watches you walk in together. While you're talking to the teacher and making up some excuse for the two of you being like ... ten minutes late (which they're buying?? somehow??) Stu turns and wiggles his eyebrows at Billy. 

You sit down in a free seat that's unfortunately not near Stu and Billy (Stu woulda kicked the guy outta the seat next to him for you but you saw him about to and you shook your head as if to say "nah     i'm solid"  and how can he argue with that?). 

Billy watches Stu make heart-eyes at you the whole rest of class and when it's over he watches Stu pout about the fact that his next class is nowhere near yours but you insist he just head to his instead of walking you. Billy's class is your next class. Determined to see what could have made you so intriguing in what?? A fucking half hour? He offers to walk you. You know your way around by now but you shrug because why not. 

The walk to class is five minutes and yet somehow Billy gets it. Took Stu a half hour and it took Billy five-fucking minutes. Billy gets a text from Stu halfway through class that's just the smuggest ... most unbearable ...  fucking ':)'. He's going to bash Stu's fucking face in later but before that they GOTTA trap you. 

They are going to TRAP YOUR ASS. Oh my gosh you have no idea how hard they're gonna trap your ass. When they are working together to achieve a common goal they're incredible. 

The work begins immediately. Can they drive you home today? Can they carry all your shit for you? Don't talk to that guy. They've been to parties with that guy --- he's a total jack-ass. Wanna go to the mall? They'll bring you. Told Stu you wanted to watch a movie tonight? What a coincidence that Billy wanted to have a movie marathon tonight with him ... you can just tag along and join them! 

Much as they think they're the smartest people in the room you do know what they're doing. You're on one of your many "so not a date-dates" when you just come out and say it, "are we all dating?"

They freeze like deer in headlights. They have been #Caught Red-handed. Billy tries to be cool about it and lean into your space like, "do you want us to be?" and somehow ....you stare down that smolder and just raise your eyebrow with a chuckle because you already asked your fucking question and you're not answering his dumb "answers a question with another question" ass. 

Stu jumps in eagerly like "Hell yeah we are!" ruining whatever tension Billy thinks he's establishing. You laugh and kiss Stu's cheek. Billy is enraged...If you don't...give him his cheek kiss- But too late you already moved to give Billy one too. Well then....back to the movie I guess. 

They are very aggressive against any perceived slight against you because you notice them but don't react to them because you have more important things to spend your time on. Guess what babe? They don't have anything to do but fight people all day long! 

This ...is all of you. You're straight chilling and they'll be flipping their shit over any and everything.

Billy pretends to be the calm level-headed one but he's actually not        you are. In private it makes him worse for awhile because like. He can just lose it with you! But then it makes him calm eventually because oh .... accidentally talked out my feelings. He can just rant in a room with you for twenty minutes and then his blood pressure is normal again. 

Your Stu's rock too. You get him to be just a little less on with you but he can also be on allllll the way and you can handle that??? Just as well. He loves you! Loves that you can love and handle him!  

You mediate between the two of them a lot and there are less fights over-all. So you both have a great relationship with the two of them and made their relationship with each other better. What can they give you for this miracle you've given them? New clothes? A movie night where you don't watch only horror movies? Orgasms? Can they give you some orgasms? An actual human heart? anYTHING, babe! 

Didn't think you spoke Spanish at first until you pick up the phone to answer your Mom one day and there you go ...Spanish. They like the way you sound when you're speaking it. Your calm voice flowing even nicer when you're speaking a language smoother than English. 

Stu wants to learn now! He is determined and it is ...terrible. He cannot sound anything but white. It makes you flinch every time he says a word. Billy actually can speak it much better. His pronunciation is nearly perfect but he can't remember any of the fucking words. Together they're the perfect duo of butchering a foreign language! Please stop

They do not tell you! They do not tell you they kill people! You figure it out because you notice an overlap in times when they are not with you or they're having their separate date nights and the murders. You come right out and say it one day.

They're shocked but mostly waiting for a ...secondary reaction that one might expect when their s/o accuses them of something this wild. It doesn't come. Their silence is an admission but you're not doing anything ...else?? What the fuck .. You walk away and they follow you...You're in the kitchen now?? Going towards the fridge?? You ... pulling out three fucking cokes? You sit down and open them and gesture for them to sit down too. Time to talk like you're always insisting they do for a #happy and healthy relationship.

They're screaming inside they thought your calm nature had to have #A Limit. Everyone has a limit! But you love them and apparently haven't found yours yet. Could they be more in love with you? Congratulations! Two shadows for the rest of your life. 

                                                     ——————–

#billy loomis x reader x stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #latina!reader #billy loomis imagine #stu macher imagine #slasher x reader #i will write for ANYONE and anYTHING i am HERE to support all your gross slasher dreams as a minority adjkl #i hope you liked reading this as much as i liked writing it anon !! smooches #adjkl @ the start of this drabble....it is SO easy to be the cool kid as a minority in a school full of white people i KNOW #i was one of four black girls at my highschool and it was fucking hilarious #a man: is tall #me: well ..... i guess you can do anything you want !

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

No Surrender Part 4

Request: hey i love your writing!! i was wondering if you could write something where the ready and bucky are in the same hydra facility and try to escape together. idk maybe that’s bad but i love your writing!!

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Summary: In the winter of 1945 Hydra captures Sargent James Barnes. After months spent unconscious, he wakes up in a cell with you and a new addition on his left side. Quickly it becomes clear that being locked up together may be the best bout of luck either of you has had in a while… Maybe together the two of you have a chance of making it out of this hell alive. Now, 69 years later the two of you are brought back together, scars and all. War changes everyone it touches but maybe, together, you can both find some kind of peace.

Warnings: Mostly fluff, some sad fluff

A/N: This was supposed to be the last part buuuut rather than serve up a fucking 10k chapter I thought I would split this to the best of my ability. The next, and final, part will be a bit longer than this one. 

As I’ve said a million times by now, thank you all so much for being patient! You’re amazing! 

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @wonderlandmind4 @stevehesaidabadlanguageword @buckysstar @for-the-love-of-the-fandom @siriuslycloudy2  @krugeforeveryone @jewelofwinter @get-loki @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @wildmoonflower @cutie1365

Stark’s kid had put Steve and Natasha up in high-end DC condos while the situation regarding the aftermath of S.H.I.E.L.D. was sorted out. Bucky looks out the window of the guest room, wishing he could appreciate the view.

He’d never admit it to Steve but the trek out of the courtroom had shaken him. The sea of people and reporters shouting, cameras flashing, his lack of control… he hated it. He hated even more so knowing you faced that sea after him. Sharon was with you but still… after what you did for him… he would have rather protected you from that. All of it.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice cuts through the quiet of the room. Bucky jumps noticeably. “Sorry.”

“No… don’t be I just…” His shoulders slump as he sits on the edge of the bed.

“The crowd?”

He gives Steve a studious glance, “Yeah.”

“Not a fan either,” Steve sits next to him, nudging him with a shoulder. “Come on, there’s somethin’ else.”

Bucky huffs out a weak laugh, “That easy to read?”

“You’re my brother Buck. Can’t hide shit from me.”

He stares at his mismatched hands. “It… I just… She didn’t have to do that…”

“Y/N?” Bucky nods. “Buck,” Steve wraps an arm around his shoulder, “she knows that. But she wanted to.”

He just can’t fathom how he’d be worth reliving the hell you went through on top of everything else, in front of a room filled with strangers no less. Of course, he can’t say that to Steve.

“I… I’d like to do something for her.”

“Like what?” Bucky looks over at Steve, his smile soft and bright.

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Flowers seem like they’re not enough and-”

“I bet Y/N would love flowers.” Steve stands, smiling. “Come on,” he holds out a hand, “we’ll head out early and pick somethin’ out.”

They make it to the florist with only a few minutes to spare.

Steve goes right to the roses, predictable. Bucky looks elsewhere though, knowing somehow that you are not a roses kinda gal. When he sees the vibrant red tulips his gut says they’re perfect for you.

At the counter, Bucky doesn’t ask about the six white roses in Steve’s hands. If he wanted to give you flowers too he couldn’t say he was against it, you deserved the whole damn shop. Though he’d be lying if he said that it didn’t cause something to rankle in him just a touch.

It’s just past 7pm as they park on the street just down a ways from your townhome.

“It’s the white one there with the red door,” Steve points it out as if he’s not coming. Bucky turns to him in confusion, unsure if he’s ready to face this night alone.

Steve lets out a laugh, “Don’t worry pal, I’m not abandoning you. Just need to drop these off is all.” He looks down at the roses, a melancholy smile on his lips, “Peggy’s place is just around the corner…”

Oh… “Do you want-”

“Nah. I’m not staying, she’s likely asleep. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Bucky’s heart aches for the sadness in his friend’s expression.

“Ok,” he clasps a reassuring hand on Steve’s shoulder, his mind flashing with the countless times he did the same thing on a much smaller shoulder a lifetime ago.

“Now go get your ass in there. It’s your party after all.” Playfully, Steve pushes him in the direction of your house.

It’s only about 30 feet away but it feels like trudging a mile through quicksand. His right-hand feels damp, his heart playing a timpani beat in his chest, his mouth curiously dry. He tries to reach back into the cloudy past to remember ever feeling so nervous but comes up empty.

When his knuckles rap against the red lacquered door he thinks he may actually puke. What the hell was wrong with him?!

“Coming!” A voice that’s not yours calls. Was it possible he picked the wrong place…

Sharon flings the door open, “Hey!” Her smile is bright and genuine, eyes falling to the flowers, “Nice call, she hates roses.” His heart slows a touch. “Where’s Steve?” She glances behind him.

“He stopped by to see Peggy…”

A sad smile flashes for just a moment. “Come on in guest of honor,” she steps aside for him.

He follows her up the short flight of stairs to the second floor where the crisp white walls and deep brown floors make the space feel grounded but airy. Mixed with the amazing smells pouring from the kitchen and the soft sounds of a brass band playing from somewhere, he feels his anxiety start to wain.

As he follows Sharon back to the large open kitchen you pipe up, “Who is-” Your gaze catches him and you rush forward, “Bucky!”

“Hey,” he huffs out a little laugh as you fling your arms around his neck. Sharon plucks the flowers from his hand and he wraps you up in a hug, breathing in your perfume for just a second.

You release him, dropping to your feet. “Oh! Sorry,” you dust flour from his black tee.

“It’s ok,” he can’t help but smile. “What’re you cooking? Smells amazing.”

“What’re we cooking, you mean,” Sam interjects from the kitchen. He walks up popping a chunk of bread in his mouth. Bucky takes his offered hand, giving it a firm shake.

“Sam insisted I let him help cook.”

Bucky laughs, “Were you actually helping or just eating, Wilson?”

“I’ll have you know,” he swallows, “I’m a great sous chef.”

“I’m the one who’s just here to eat,” Sharon calls from the kitchen.

“As always, mon chaton,” you coo back.

“Where do you want these?” Sharon holds up the tulips in a lovely vase.

You gasp striding over to her, “I didn’t even notice! Bucky, these are lovely! You shouldn’t have.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, “I’m glad you like ‘em.”

A knock echoes from the front door, “Oh, would you boys mind?”

“Nah, come on man,” Sam claps a hand on Bucky’s back and leads him downstairs while you and Sharon head back to the kitchen.

“Hey Tin Man!” Stark bellows in greeting as Sam opens the door. “This is my-”

“Pepper Potts,” the pretty redhead holds out a hand to him.

He takes it gently, “Bucky.”

She smiles, “Good to finally meet you.”

“We also found a geriatric wandering the streets unsupervised,” Tony thumbs back to Steve who rolls his eyes.

“Ha. Ha.” Steve thumps the back of Tony’s head.

Sam laughs, ushering everyone back upstairs.

Within the next half hour, Hill and Natasha arrive. He thought he’d be overwhelmed by being in a group like this but instead, it feels… right somehow. The laughter, the taste of whiskey, the music, it all makes faint memories tickle at the edges of his mind. After a few drinks, you slip your hand in his before informing everyone it was time to eat.

The spread looks amazing, you and Sam truly have outdone yourselves. Mouthwatering platters filled with prime rib, mashed potatoes, fresh bread, and various sides are passed around. Before everyone digs in you stand.

“Thank you all for coming.” Your warm smile lands on everyone, ending on Bucky. “It’s been some time since I’ve had a reason to celebrate like this,” your fingers lightly graze the metal of his left arm. “I wish it had come in an easier manner but, c’est la vie. If I’ve learned anything in my many many years, it’s that endings may be hard but beginnings are often harder.

“We all stand at the beginning of new chapters in our lives, with no way to know where these roads will lead. But looking around this table I know that none here will have to travel these unknown roads alone.” You pick up your wine glass, holding it up, “So— here’s to new beginnings, new challenges, and new friends. Sante!”

“Sante!” The table echos joyfully, glasses clinking together.

“Now,” you sit, “let’s eat!”

After dinner, everyone is stuffed and exhausted from the emotional ride today was. One by one they filter out until it’s just you three near-centenarians hovering in your kitchen.

“Please let us help you clean up, Y/N.” Steve implores once more after Bucky has already struck out a few times.

“Are you two not going to let this go!?” You laugh shaking your head.

“Nope,” Steve crosses his arms and leans against the counter. You make a noise in mock annoyance and glance to Bucky for support.

“I’m on his team,” he flashes you a crooked smile.

“Oh fine! But first,” you disappear into the living room off the kitchen. The music stops and the men exchange a questioning look. After a minute the familiar scratch of a needle on vinyl starts and a song Bucky is certain he knows kicks up.

“It sounds better like this don’t you think?” You call as you head back to the kitchen.

“Definitely,” Steve nods.

Bucky’s eyes fall to the granite countertop of the island, focusing on the grey and black lines snaking through the white, trying to place this music.

He knows this. He wants to know why to place it with a memory. Everything else falls away for a second as he dives deep, trying to grasp at the ghosts of memory flitting through his mind.

“Buck?” Steve’s tone is laced with concern but it’s the feeling of your warm hand resting on his lower back that brings everything to focus.

Other warm hands, warm bodies, dancing, laughing, the brass ringing…

“Glenn Miller,” he says, voice wispy. “I think I used to like this song…”

Steve laughs, “You and everyone else, it was everywhere.”

Bucky meets his old friend’s warm smile, “I liked dancing to this one, right?”

“Yeah, always tried to force me to join in too.”

You haven’t moved your hand from his back, he’s thankful for it. All those decades ago he’d promised to take you dancing…

“Did you not like dancing, Rogers?”

“He hated it,” Bucky answers, knowing it’s true.

“Hate is a strong word,” Steve shoves his hands in his pockets, “but no, I wasn’t much of a dancer.”

“Well, we may have to do something about that.”

“Oh?” Steve laughs a little. “Know of any USO events coming up?”

“Not exactly, but I’m sure we can figure something out. Now,” tenderly you pat his back before stepping away, “if you boys are down for some KP duty, let’s get to it.”

-

With your kitchen clean enough to pass any inspection you head to the living room and collapse on the couch. Steve lounges on the loveseat, and Bucky looks through the records you have. He selects another Glenn Miller album putting it on.

You won’t lie, you hope he’ll take the spot next to you but instead he takes in the few photos you have by the record player. This handful of important life events are the only deeply personal touches in the space. It’s not that the room is cold, simply curated with things you find appealing aesthetically without being reminded of places and people that are no longer with you or the same.

Bucky picks up a frame and brings it over to you. A lump rises in your throat. It’s you, Dummy, Peg, and her husband.

“Was this your wedding?” For a second you’re confused but then you realize you are in a champagne-colored evening gown so it’s not an absurd assumption.

You laugh a little, “No, no. We didn’t have a wedding. Just did the courthouse before heading out of the country on a mission. No this was at one of Howard’s inane gala’s.”

“You all look happy though,” his smile is soft and almost heartbreaking.

“That likely had a bit to do with the open bar, at least for them.”

He laughs. “Makes sense.” Placing the photo back he continues to look over what’s there.

“I think you should show him.” Steve leans toward you, smile bright as the sun.

“Show me what?” Bucky asks, taking a seat next to you.

Your brows knit a little, “It’s been a long day. For all of us. Maybe tomorrow… if you’d like…”

Bucky lightly grazes your fingers, “We can head out so you can rest.”

“Oh! No, I’m not tired actually. It’s just,” you look at Steve and he nods. “Alright. Turn the record player off will you, Rogers.” You grab Bucky’s hand, pulling him up with you as Steve stops the music.

You don’t let go as you lead the way downstairs, grateful your grip stays steady even though your heart isn’t. Hopefully, Steve was right and this would be a comfort and not rip open a wound.

Just behind the staircase on the first floor is a door. Taking a deep breath you punch in the key code and scan your finger against the panel. The lights automatically flip on as the door opens.

Leaded glass lamps cast the space in a warm glow that suits the dark wood paneling of the room. There are only a few narrow windows close to the ceiling. Sometimes it made the room comforting, others it felt like it would close in on you with the weight of decades past.

Silently Bucky steps forward, releasing your hand. His blue eyes wide as he takes the space in. When he turns back you’re more than a little relieved to see the mix of joy and sadness in his sparkling eyes.

“Welcome to my time capsule.”

That’s exactly what it was. The walls lined with photos, framed news clippings, awards, even weapons from a long and sordid life. Tucked in one corner was an old crank-powered record player and yet more records, low shelves circled the space bursting with more photos and documents. In the center of it all was a worn down diplomat sofa from the mid-’70s, moved down here when you couldn’t part with the comfortable piece, and a big overstuffed chair from the 90’s both littered with pillows and blankets.

He steps to stand before a collection of photos of the Howler’s early days, before you. Steve wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulder and you lean into him. Maybe he was right…

You supposed he’d know. When you’d brought him here a few weeks ago after you both spent an afternoon with Peg he couldn’t hold back the tears, happy and mournful. Since then he’d come back just to look through things more than a couple of times. You couldn’t blame him. So many amazing people, all worth missing, lived on in this room.

Something between a laugh and a sob bubbles from Bucky and you both rush to his side, flanking him. Gingerly he plucks a photo from the wall. It’s of him and all the Howlers save for Steve. Always a favorite of yours.

“I remember this,” his voice thick with emotion. “We’d barely made it out of that damn base, the one that had a fucking moat. Thought Morita would die of hypothermia after pulling him from it…”

He sniffs hard. “But we made it, got warm and drunk and you refused to take a picture because you hated pictures.”

Steve laughs softly, tears glistening on his cheeks. “Still do.”

“Dugan gave you shit since you’d no issue being on stage.” Steve laughs seeming to know what’s coming next, “And you said some bull shit about Doing it for America.” You can’t help laugh too, imagining the look on Dummy’s face at this comment.

Without a word, Bucky’s hand falls into your own, strong fingers interlacing holding tight as Steve goes over to the record player to get some music going. You both only move a few steps down. As he looks you lean your head contentedly on his shoulder.

“When was this?” He asks smiling down at you as he points to a photo of you and Peg sitting on the back of a Jeep, dressed in dirty men’s clothing, cigarettes hanging from your lips.

Steve puts on a record, music filling the space. You sway a bit to the music, more to stall than out of enjoyment and swallow hard before responding, coaching yourself to keep it together.

“A couple of months after...” Did the rest need to be said? “We were clearing out the last remaining Hydra bases.” And looking for you. But you can’t bring yourself to form those words.

“I bet you two made one hell of a team.” He gives your hand a steadying squeeze.

“Oui,” your voice cracks, “we really did.” Some part of you screams that she’s not gone yet... yet.

Steve takes up Bucky’s left side, moody blue eyes locked on the photo. For a moment you three remain in tense silence, each wrapped in your own emotions.

Bucky clears his throat, “Do you think I could see her? That is if she’d want-”

“She’d love to see you,” your voice is thick as you try to wrangle the storm brewing in your chest. “If she’s...”

“Having a good day,” Steve puts it in softer terms than you feel you would have.

The next few hours are a blur. Every scrap you have from Dummy’s time in the 107th and with the Howlers pulled out. Bucky practically glows with every remembered moment, even the less than pleasant ones.

It’s almost 3am when Steve lets out a loud yawn, stretching like a cat in his spot on the oversized chair. You and Bucky sit close on the couch as he flips through a book on the Howlers.

“I don’t know about you pal but I’m about ready to call it a night.”

Bucky glances at Steve then you, “Yeah. I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“We’ve almost passed into early,” you muse looking at your phone, “not bad for people pushing 100 I’d say.”

Steve snorts a hollow laugh and stands, “Want us to help you pack this away?”

“Nah,” you groan a bit as you stretch, “I’m sure you two will be back soon, easier to have it out.” Bucky smiles at you. “Any time you want to come by you’re welcome.” You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before standing.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Bucky stands as Steve opens the door to the room. He takes both of your hands in his, looking intently into your eyes. “For everything.”

“Of course,” for a moment you forget everything else. “Oh! Before you leave I have something for you. I’ll be right back.”

Not giving him time to respond you bolt upstairs to your bedroom. Grabbing the bag, you’re back down in only a few minutes. It was nice to be around people who weren’t unnerved by your speed.

“Here,” you hand him the gift bag smiling.

“Y/N,” tentatively he takes it, “you’ve done enough you-”

“Just open it, Barnes.”

Conceding he pulls the paper out and lifts up the thick leather-bound journal and Montblanc pen held together with a simple ribbon. His initials are stamped on the front of the volume. He looks up at you with large eyes.

“To keep your memories.” Your smile is gentle as his fingers lightly trace the letters.

“Y/N… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“Nothing at all of course. Now get out of here, we all need rest.” Steve smiles back at you from his spot near the front door.

Bucky just smiles as he puts the journal and pen back in the bag. “Goodnight, Y/N.” His embrace is solid and lingering, you breathe in his warm smell before letting go.

“Goodnight, both of you.”

Once they’re gone the house feels oppressively empty.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky feels

[theycallmemoosey]

This is Weird

Stiles x Reader 

A/N: Disclaimer! I am not a furry! While writing this, I was so stressed out that I sounded like a complete furry. I’m not. I just felt like it was a cute idea. I have also risen from the dead. I wrote this because a) I wanted to write for another fandom I really love and b) wanted to write something of my own if that makes sense? Sorry that I have been kinda radio silent, but things have been quite hard recently. I’m currently in the middle of writing a few more, so keep an eye on my profile and the usual tags! Hope you guys enjoy this one! Moose :)

------------------------------

“Hey pretty lady, you got any plans tonight?” 

“Yes, Stiles” you chuckled, slamming your locker door shut to come face to face with Stiles who was stood behind the open door, “Funnily enough I’m heading to your house for dinner tonight” 

“Ohhhh yeah” he smiled slyly, leaning down to kiss you quickly, “Any thoughts on what you want?” 

“What do you want?” Scott asked, making you jump as he appeared behind you. 

“Jesus Christ, McCall!”

“You should have heard me coming” 

“There are a lot of heartbeats pounding right now, Scott. What makes you think I would hear yours too?”

“You’re twins” Stiles butted in, “Shouldn’t you two have a stronger connection or something? Like Ethan and Aiden?” 

“Not always true” you replied, looking at said twins who were over on the other side of the hallway before your eyes locked on the clock on the wall above them, “Oh shit, I have to get to training”

“Wait, you didn’t tell me what you want to get for dinner tonight” 

“Chinese” you blurted, worried about missing training and being shouted at by the coach, “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yeah, meet me by Roscoe” he smiled, kissing you as you rushed off. 

“Dude…did you have to?” Scott asked, sounding disgusted as he walked past Stiles to head towards the locker room. 

“She’s my girlfriend” 

“She’s my sister!” Scott fired back, pushing the door open and flinging his gym bag onto the nearest bench, “What are your plans tonight with Y/N anyway?” 

“Dinner and Star Wars which I still can’t believe you haven’t watched, by the way” 

“Creatures in space, big deal” Scott shrugged, “Because we don’t deal with enough weird shit in real life” 

“McCall! Stilinski!” Coach Finstock called out from his office, “You’ll be training the freshmans” 

“What?! Why?!” Stiles cried back, gaining the attention from the rest of the locker room.

“Just do it” Coach shook his head, mumbling ‘Idiots’ under his breath as he walked back into his office.

Scott pulled the whining Stiles out onto the field, grinning at his best friend’s constant grumbling about how unfortunate he was and how nothing ever worked out for him. 

“Seriously, Scott. I can’t catch a break. First, you’re bitten and turned into a wolf, then my girlfriend is bitten, Lydia turns out to be a banshee, we’ve had multiple supernatural things trying to kill us and now I’m stuck training goddamn freshmans!”

“It's only for a couple of hours, Stiles” Scott huffed, lugging the bag of lacrosse balls over his shoulder as he headed towards the pitch.

“Freshmans, Scott! Freshmans!”

———————————————————

“There she is!” Stiles announced, grinning as he watched you hopped down the steps of the school. 

“Hey, you” you smiled, kissing him quickly before handing him your gym bag to put in the backseat. 

“How was training? That bitch Kathleen bother you again?” 

“When doesn’t she?” You scoffed, jumping into the front seat as you waited for Stiles to get in next to you, “How was lacrosse?” 

“Don’t get me started. I swear Coach has it in for me this year. He put me and Scott in with the freshmans today. Freshmans, Y/N! Freshmans!” 

“Oh my god” you cried out, laughing slightly, “Poor baby” 

“Tell me about it” he sighed, pulling out of the school campus, “Today has just been shit. Ms Matheson gave me a D in English and that asshat Joel decided that flicking gum into my hair was more fun than Physics. Not only that but-“ 

“Scott’s calling me” you interrupted, answering the call from your brother, “What?”

“Are you two ok?” 

“Yeah, fine. Why? Everything ok with you?” 

“Ummm…just get home as soon as possible. Pack meeting” 

“Scott!” You called as he hung up the phone, groaning before looking at Stiles sympathetically, “We have to go to mine” 

“But I want Chinese!” 

“Stiles, I’m just as annoyed as you are but you know that when Scott calls a meeting, everyone has to be there”

Stiles looked over at you and frowned, but after seeing the look in your eyes he sighed and turned the steering wheel in a U-Turn to head towards your house. 

When you arrived, you jumped out Roscoe and ran up the stairs, Stiles close behind you. 

“Scott?” 

“In the kitchen!” you heard Scott call out, taking off your shoes and flinging them in any random direction.

“Why did you call off my night with Stiles? And where the hell is everyone?!” You asked angrily, noticing Scott standing alone in the kitchen.

“Look, I’m sorry but I really think that something is wrong” he stated, his eyes flicking sympathetically between you and Stiles. 

“No one else was available? The one night I had with Stiles in weeks?!”

“Y/N…” Stiles warned, not wanting an argument to break out.

“Why couldn’t you ask Lydia?” 

“Date night with Aiden” 

“Fine. Issac?” 

“With Lydia and Aiden” 

“Allison?” 

“With everyone else!” 

You sighed, groaning internally, “It was my date night with Stiles tonight, you idiot”

“I’m sorry, but I know I can count on you two. My best friend and my sister…you’re the only ones I can truly count on to be by my side when I have a feeling that something is wrong” 

Stiles placed his hand on your waist and squeezed lightly, taking a step closer towards you until his chest was against your back, “What do you want us to do?” 

————————————————————

“I’m telling you, it was right there!” Scott insisted, pointing at the floor on the top of the mountain overlooking the town. 

“It might have been, but it’s not there now” you groaned, regretting not bringing your jacket along with you. 

“I swear, I was walking in the woods and I looked over towards the cliff edge, and I swear I saw red eyes stare right back at me. It was like it was expecting me to be there” 

“What were you doing walking in the woods alone?” You questioned, although you weren’t surprised when you were ignored.

“Scott, are you sure it wasn’t just a fox or…or a rabbit or something?” Stiles suggested, feeling just as annoyed with Scott as you were.

“With red eyes? Sure.” He scoffed, kicking a rock off of the cliff.

“Scott, please. I just want to go home and have some dinner. I don’t want to be here, on the top of a fucking cliff in the fucking freezing cold looking out for a fox!” You shouted, gasping loudly when you heard a growl behind you, Stiles standing in front of you as the three of you turned towards the sound.

“Believe me now?” 

“Shut up you loser” you whispered, your ears listening intently for any sound of movements. Turning around, you saw your brother’s eyes glow red, the hairs on his chin and hands grow slowly as he also observed his surroundings. 

“Stiles, get back to the jeep” you whispered, pushing his arm in the direction of Roscoe.

“It’s date night” he replied monotonously. 

“Not funny” you breathed out, jumping at the louder growl from behind you. You growled and sprinted off into the trees, hearing your name being called from behind you. 

Scott and Stiles panted, scared for you and for themselves, although they dared not move as they could hear the growling get closer and closer to them. Growling and breathing heavily, the two boys looked towards the trees, preparing themselves for anything to jump out and attack them. 

“Ready?” Scott asked, Stiles nodding furiously next to him. 

Slowly, the creature began to emerge from the woods, snarling and barking at them. The two of them took a deep breath and pounced towards the animal, stopping in their tracks when a coyote took a step into the moonlight. 

“A fucking coyote?” Stiles asked, relieved that it wasn’t a dangerous, supernatural being. With a simple flash of Scott’s red eyes, the coyote whimpered and took off back into the trees. 

Scott sighed, his teeth and claws reverting back to his normal human self, “I’m sorry, I was convinced it was something more…more…”

“More dangerous than a wild dog?”

“We need to look for Y/N. She’s probably hasn’t shifted back yet, so be careful” Scott instructed, starting to head off before Stiles pulled his wrist back, turning him around to reveal a dark grey wolf approach them slowly, it’s piercing blue eyes staring at them in fear. 

“Y/N?” Scott asked, breathless at the sight of his twin sister fully shifted into a beautiful wolf, with the softest grey fur with pitch black streaks delicately placed in sporadic spots. There was a single white stripe along your nose and small patches of white on your paws. 

“Woah, Y/N…how did you do that?” Stiles admired, bending down to your eye level.

“She can’t answer you, you dimwit” Scott reminded him, smacking his head at his sheer stupidity.

You whined, nuzzling your nose into Stiles’ palms as he stroked your fur gently. 

“Can you shift back, Y/N?” Scott asked, pacing behind Stiles.

“If I could shift back, I wouldn’t be here like this right now” you thought, trying to signal to the boys. 

Scott picked up on this and sighed, “Once for yes, two for no. Bark” 

You barked twice, sitting down on the cold dirt, trying to scowl at the boys but failing as you were a wolf.

“No wonder, you never even fully shifted before. How did this happen?!” 

“You’re asking a dog and her boyfriend, you really expect either of us to know? That’s a sentence I never thought I would say. My girlfriend is a dog…” Stiles trailed off, becoming weirded out by the thought.

Scott sighed, but started to walk towards his bike, “Stiles, would you mind taking Y/N home? I’m going to talk to Deaton, see if he knows what the hell is happening to her” 

“Sure” Stiles replied, keeping an eye on you plodding along behind him before you suddenly started running off, “Y/N?!” 

“She’s probably just getting her clothes…she really liked the ones she was wearing” 

“Yeah well…it was date night” Stiles sighed, relief washing over him when you returned safely and started to walk beside him again, a bundle of clothes in your mouth, “You should probably let your mum know too, Scott. I’m going to take Y/N back to mine and let my dad know about the coyote” 

“Fine. I’ll see you later” Scott replied quickly, revving the engine and taking off. 

Stiles opened the door to Roscoe and took the clothes from your mouth, “You ok jumping in or do you need help?” 

You looked at Stiles for a minute, cursing him in your mind as you easily hopped up into the front seat, curling into a ball on the cold leather whilst snuggling into Stiles’ discarded jacket. 

“Well, that answered that question then” he grunted, slamming the door and hopping in the other side. 

—————————————

“Hey, Stiles” Noah greeted his son as he watched the TV, “What happened to your date night with Y/N?”

“Scott called us. Thought he saw something on the mountain, but turns out it was just a coyote” he sighed, tossing the keys to Roscoe in the bowl by the front door, Noah looking back towards him.

“Where’s Y/N?” 

“About that…” Stiles began, looking down towards you as you padded into the front room, looking at Noah with sad eyes.

“Holy shit!” Noah sprung up, backing away from you, “What the hell are you thinking, Stiles?! Bringing a wild animal into the house? Have you finally gone insane?!” 

“Dad! Dad!” Stiles rushed to stand in front of you, “Not a wild animal”

“Then…then….what?”

“Who, Dad…who”

Noah gasped in disbelief, pointing down towards you, “Y/N?” 

You poked your nose around from the back of Stiles’ leg, Noah still staring at you with his mouth wide open.

“You’re…you’re…how?” 

“We don’t know. Scott went to talk to Deaton about it”

Noah bent down to your level, still trying to process the fact that you had turned into an animal.  You began to whine, half scared to death, and so Noah opened his arms to embrace you. You jumped up, placing your front two paws on his shoulders and nuzzling your nose into his shoulder, feeling his hands stroke your fur gently.

“Is there any way to shift her back?” He asked Stiles, still comforting your whining form.

“The only way we know is for Y/N to do it herself, but she can’t”

You jumped off of Noah and walked out of the front room, rushing towards the bathroom. Stiles followed you protectively and sighed sympathetically when he saw you whine as you approached the toilet. You turned your head and looked back towards Stiles, letting out a long breath. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not helping you go to the toilet. Do you think you can…do it like…like the rest of the wolves in the world do?”

You sighed again, “I am going to kill someone”

You padded back downstairs, Stiles right behind you, passing Noah who was still stood where he was when he first saw you. You began pawing at the back door, indicating to Stiles that you really needed to go. 

“Stiles I swear to god, I haven’t pissed today and the only time I get to do so is when I happen to be a fucking dog. The least you could do is hurry the fuck up” 

“Alright, alright Y/N. Stop scratching the door for christ sake”

Stiles opened the door and watched as you hurried outside, running behind the large tree in the Stilinski back garden. Noah sighed, scaring Stiles slightly. 

“She’s a goddamn dog, Stiles” 

“No way” 

“What if she can’t shift her back? Like…ever?” 

“She will” Stiles stated, trying to convince himself more than his father, “There’s always a way” 

——————————————————————

You jumped up on the sofa, curling into a small ball and laying your head on Stiles’ lap while watching the football game on TV. 

“Hey, princess” Stiles stroked your back, running his fingers through your fur. You snuggled into him further, looking up at him with sad eyes, “How shit do you feel right now” 

“I can’t answer you, Stiles. Think you stupid boy”

“You can’t answer me” he shook his head, still running his fingers through your fur. You lifted your head and looked around the room, trying to silently ask where Noah had gone.

“Where’s my dad?” 

You nodded your head, laying back down onto Stiles’ lap.

“Went to the vets, wanted to help Scott and Deaton. He said he would call me if they found anything”

You sighed loudly, before jumping down off the sofa and padding over towards the table where Stiles’ phone was, grabbing it in your mouth and flinging it on his lap. 

“What?” He asked, gesturing to the phone now shoved down the cushions of the sofa.

“Why else would I bring you your phone? Call them now” you thought to yourself, pushing the phone with your nose closer to Stiles. 

“Want me to call them now?” 

“YES!” You tried to shout, but instead, you began to whine angrily.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?!” 

You continued to whine, almost to a complete howl as you got so angry and frustrated at the fact that you couldn’t talk to anyone. Stiles caught on to your frustration and picked you up, much to your surprise, and hugged you tightly. You stopped whining and began to relax, slowly laying down on top of him.

“Feel better now?” He asked finally when he felt your breathing slow down. You licked his hand and grabbed the phone again, holding it above his palm.

“Fine, ok. I’ll call them. But listen, sweetheart, don’t get your hopes up yet, ok?” He sighed, placing the phone to his ear as he called Scott, “Hey, found anything yet?…..seriously?……she’s…well she’s not coping very well” 

You growled slightly, causing Stiles to chuckle slightly. 

“Just find a way and fast, she’s clearly getting cross with the fact that she’s, well I don’t know, a wolf……yeah, fine….ok we’ll see you later” 

Sighing, Stiles threw his phone onto the sofa and looked back at you, “Sorry” 

You huffed and placed your head on the armrest of the sofa, looking back towards the football game.

“It’s getting late…Scott said they’re going to be there overnight. Dad said that he’s going to stay so we need to lock up. Want to go to bed?”

You quickly jumped off the sofa and padded towards the stairs, making Stiles giggle as he turned off all the lights downstairs. He stood at the foot of the stairs with you, noticing you hadn’t moved in a few minutes.

“You ok?” 

You placed one paw on the first step and tried to begin to climb, but immediately you slipped and lost your footing, falling back to the floor with a big huff. You tried again but failed once more. After the third try, you looked up toward Stiles who had a big grin on his face and growled lowly.

“Hey big guy, please do something other than watching your girlfriend fall to the floor continually as she tries to climb a bloody flight of stairs”

“Want some help?” He asked patronisingly, wrapping his hands around you and lifting you up into his grasp, climbing the stairs as you licked his neck, making him squirm and laugh. 

“Cut that out, unless you want to fall down the entire flight of stairs again”

————————————————————

You sat on the end of Stiles’ bed, watching him sleepily as he changed into a loose jersey and pyjama bottoms.

“Still nothing from Scott. Sometimes hearing back from you McCalls is a challenge in itself”

You smiled and wagged your tail, making Stiles laugh.

“I’m just going to go and brush my teeth, you get comfortable and I’ll be back in a second. We can continue date night?” 

You stopped wagging your tail. 

“Yeah, I regret saying that too” he deadpanned, coughing slightly, “Star Wars?” 

“Not Star Wars again…anything but Star Wars”

“One for yes, two for no” he asked, frowning slightly after you barked twice, “Well, um…why don’t you pick out a DVD on the shelf and I’ll be right out”

As Stiles walked off, you huffed and plopped down onto the bed, closing your eyes. Being a wolf was hard work.

“Honey?” Stiles asked quietly, cautious that you had fallen asleep, “Y/N? You didn’t pick a film” 

You groaned and curled further into a ball, making Stiles laugh and get into bed, grabbing his laptop on the way. He spent 20 minutes searching all the lore and mythology he could find on the internet, his eyes occasionally flickering to you. 

“Y/N?”  He asked, watching you lift your head towards him, “You don’t have to sleep at my feet like my pet dog. As weird as it feels right now, you’re still my girlfriend” 

He lifted his duvet up to reveal the empty space in his double bed where you usually sleep. You stood up and stretched, wagging your tail before lying down next to him, placing your head on his chest. 

“Much better” Stiles said, kissing your wet nose and stroking the fur on your back. He stopped momentarily and looked at you, your eyes opening and meeting his.

“This is so weird. I can’t believe I’m in love with a goddamn animal” he chuckled at your frown, “But, I still love you. So much” 

You stretched your neck up towards him and licked his cheek, “I love you too”

——————————————————————

The sunlight shone through the curtains the next morning and Stiles continued stroking your back, just the way he had done when the two of you fell asleep. He stirred and opened his eyes slowly, smiling as he looked down at your beautiful Y/C/H hair. 

“Hair?”

His eyes snapped open fully, sitting up just enough so as not to jolt you too much as you slept peacefully. He looked over your soft skin, his hand tracing down your arms. He shifted slightly, tensing when he felt you fully exposed. 

“Y/N?” He whispered, shaking your arm slightly. 

“Five more minutes” you mumbled before sighing and snuggling further into his grip.

“I heard that” he smiled, starting to giggle when he saw your beautiful eyes snap open, just how his had moments ago. You moved your head upwards to look towards Stiles, his smile bigger than ever. He leant down and kissed you gently, cupping your face to pull you closer to him.

“I have been waiting so long to do that” he whispered as he pulled away.

“I was a wolf for a night” 

“Yeah, our date night”

“Well,” you smiled, leaning back up to kiss him again, “I guess we better make up for it tonight” 

“Oh yeah, Chinese and Star Wars” 

“Oh god, anything but Star Wars, please!” You laughed, “We should call Scott, let him know I’m human again”

“I’ll do it in a few minutes” he leant down, kissing you again while you wrapped your arm around his torso and pulled him closer. When you pulled away, you only then realised that you were fully naked, “Can I…?” 

“Oh! Yeah sure” he laughed, pulling his t-shirt off to give to you. Just as he pulled it over his head, Noah burst into the room, making the three of you scream, all for different reasons. You pulled the duvet up to cover you completely, Stiles stuttering next to you to try and form some sort of explanation.

Noah coughed and looked anywhere other than at the two of you. 

“Please tell me you used protection”

#stiles #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles one shot #stiles imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf #Scott #Scott McCall #Scott x reader #Scott McCall x reader #teen wolf one shot #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #reader insert

[cami-chats]

Chance Encounter

Fandom: Marvel (616/MCU crossover)

Pairings: Tony Stark/Giuletta Nefaria (Madame Masque)

Warnings: None

"Weird, this doesn't look like Wendy's," she said, looking around at the assembled supers. Most of them looked familiar, but... off. Black Widow looked shorter than she remembered, and her hair was cropped shorter. Captain America was much less broad, Hawkeye wasn't dressed all in purple and that girl (woman? Giuletta didn't really know how old she was) that had taken to hanging around him wasn't at his side, Thor didn't have that ridiculous helmet, on and on the list went. This one guy had an arm like the Winter Soldier, but that's where the similarities between them ended. There was Iron Man of course, in a suit that was a little more bulky and not as bug looking as Tony's most recent designs. 

With a wide grin on his face was a man she didn't recognize, forced to his knees and-- judging how hard he was staring at her-- probably the reason she was here. "I knew you would come and bring an end to the unholy Avengers!" 

Giuletta ignored him because clearly he was on something. If she got too close, the crazy would catch and she did not want to deal with that shit again (for like the fifth time. Seriously, her and Tony had been through enough). "So you're the Avengers?" she asked, looking towards Tony. Captain America was probably the leader here, but he'd always bugged her. Plus, another Iron Man! If it was Rhodes, Cabe, or-- god forbid-- Potts, she was going to get grumpy real fast. 

"We sure are, goldie. And you?" Iron Man asked. Yep, that was Tony alright. 

"Madame Masque," she said, giving him a flourished little bow. Maybe she was lucky and they were together in this universe too. Looking around though, it was clear that none of them recognized the name, or her. "You don't know me," she stated, distaste clear in her tone. She was a goddamn delight to be around, and she should exist in every universe. "Hmph." She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the fact that her hair was getting in the way and she couldn't see much of anything with the wind acting like this. She was used to that though, so it was easy to pretend everything was perfectly visible to her. 

"Why does Zemo think you would kill us?" Captain America asked. 

She shrugged. The Zemo she knew was much more terrifying, not near as uselessly creepy. "Hell if I know." A portal opened right next to her, and a much more familiar Iron Man popped out. "Hey honey." 

"Hey, how's it going?" 

"Alright, I guess." 

Zemo gaped, face turning white with rage. "I summoned you because you tried to kill Tony Stark! You were meant to come here and destroy him no matter the cost!" 

"Psh, that was ages ago," her Tony said, waving it off. 

"I am sorry about that, by the way." 

"Eh, at least you waited until we were on bad terms to try it, that's better than Rodgers." 

"Ugh is she still on that?" 

Tony shrugged. "Who knows? It's been a while since she cropped up." 

"She tried to kill you?" the other Tony asked incredulously, gesturing to Giuletta. "And you're still with her?" 

"There were extenuating circumstances, so shut it. Her villain phase didn't last very long." She hadn't exactly been in her right mind, what with the clones and her father coming back and everything. 

"She's a villain?" 

"What part of 'phase that didn't last very long' went over your head?" Giuletta asked flatly. She shook her head, turning to face Tony more. "These people." 

"Ridiculous," he agreed. 

"Does that mean we can go home?" 

"Uhhhh yeah. About that." 

"You didn't plan a return trip." 

"I didn’t plan a return trip," he confirmed. "You might have been in danger! I didn't have time to come up with a way home before the quantum trace of your journey dissipated." 

"And we can't ride that back?" 

"Already gone." 

"Damn." 

He nodded in agreement. 

"Does that mean you need our help?" someone asked. He had dark skin, a shaved head, and was standing at Captain America's side, some sort of mechanized pack on his back and red goggles on his face. 

Giuletta sighed. "Looks that way." 

"Cheer up," Tony said, elbowing her lightly, "it might not be that bad." 

She glanced over at the group-- plus Zemo, who looked like he was having a breakdown. There were varying expressions of doubt and apprehension throughout, but Captain America said, "We'll help however we can," and it didn't look like anyone was going to challenge that. 

"Thanks Cap, appreciate it." 

"Iron Man, why don't you and Black Widow take them to the Tower and the rest of us will finish up here." 

The other Tony said, "Sure thing Captain Tight-pants." Then he looked at her Tony. "I'll fly my girl if you fly yours?" 

"Careful Stark," Widow said with a glare. In Giuletta's opinion, it was all for show, but then, her opinions regarding Tony were rather skewed. 

"Just a figure of speech." 

"Sounds good to me," Tony said, sounding amused. She stepped up to him at the same moment he lifted his arm to make room for her. He put it tightly around her waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They'd learned the hard way that doing just one or the other didn't work well enough. "Ready when you are." 

The other Tony held out his arms in invitation, and Widow very grumpily got into position. "Follow me." He shot off, and Tony followed easily. 

"Does she really think she's fooling anyone?" Giuletta asked now that only Tony could hear her. Her hair was whipping around her face, hard enough that it was a good thing both of them were wearing masks. 

"What?" 

Apparently she was fooling Tony, if no one else. She snorted. "The Black Widow. She's interested in this universe's Tony." 

"Really?" he said doubtfully. "I think you're way off base." 

"I'm an expert in people that love you." 

Tony made a noise to show how much stock he put in that, but it's not her fault that he still didn't believe that Potts had liked him before she retired. 

"Whatever. If we're here long enough, you'll see." 

"I'm sure." 

"Oh shut up." 

"Yes dear," he said, and she could sense the shit-eating grin he had on. They landed a minute later, and they followed the other maybe-couple inside. Tony let the suit melt away, leaving him in his undersuit as he looked around. "This is your place?" 

"Yeah. What's your suit made out of? We don't have any tech like that here." 

"Classified," Tony said, slanting a smirk in his direction. 

"Seriously?" the other Tony said. His suit opened up and he stepped out. The suit walked itself over to an elevator and went down, presumably to his workshop. "I can't believe any version of me is a kiss ass." 

"I can't believe any version of you is that short," Giuletta said, looking at the other Tony incredulously. 

Tony grinned, walking towards- oh jesus was that a phone? Was that what phones looked like over here? "I was Director of Shield for a while, I couldn't exactly say fuck you to the man so I could try to get a day off." 

"You were Director of Shield?" Black Widow asked, clearly surprised. 

"Yeah during the whole SHRA mess." 

"The what?" 

"You didn't have that here?" Tony asked, stopping his perusal of the phone to look at her. She shook her head. "Damn, I think I like this place better. Hey Giuletta, what do you say to moving homes?" 

"I say that it looks like Potts is still here, so hell no." There was a picture of her and the Tony and Rhodes of this world on one of the side tables. 

Tony rolled his eyes. "You can't still be on that." 

"On what?" other-Tony asked, looking between the two of them. 

"Giuletta thinks that Pepper wants to date me," he said. "Which I've told you over and over, is ridiculous. She's happily married." 

"She was happily married when she kissed you, too." 

"She'd just had another miscarriage! She was all emotional, it's not like she was actually planning on having an affair or leaving Happy. Besides, what does it matter? Even if Pepper were interested in any of that, I'm not." 

She disagreed, but she knew when she was beat. "Hmph." 

"Not that I know anything about you," other-Tony said conversationally, "but if you're married now, shouldn't you be over the jealousy thing?" 

"We're not married," Tony said. He took a seat on the couch, kicking up his feet down the length of it since there wasn't a coffee table he could do it on. 

"Because he won't ask me." 

"Blatant lie," he said, pointing at her as she walked over to join him on the couch. She picked up his feet, sat down, and let them sit in her lap as she put her arms on the back of the couch. "I asked you once and you said no." 

"That's because you were joking," she said, rolling her eyes. 

"I wasn't joking." 

"Wait, seriously?" 

"Uh yeah. You thought I was joking? I've got a fucking engagement ring sitting uselessly in the closet, and you would have said yes?" 

She just stared at him. "Oh my fucking god, this is the most ridiculous thing to happen to us since the thing with Cabe." In her defense, it hadn’t been her idea to switch bodies. 

"Are you really going to bring up all of my past relationships?" 

"I thought we liked her?" Unlike Rodgers and whatever the hell she’d been on. Cabe was stupidly impressive, Giuletta was glad she’d taken another job. She couldn’t handle that type of competition in her life, even if Tony insisted there was no competition to be had. 

"Of course we like Beth, but you called her Cabe." 

"Psh, I call everyone but you by their last name. Or their superhero name, depending. You forget, I'm here for you, not because I believe in the undying good of humanity." 

"You've been coming around," he said, poking her thigh with his toes. 

She snorted. "Barely." It was more like being evil was a lot of work and she wouldn't get Tony, instead of being good where she was working her ass off, not getting paid most of the time, but she got lovin' on the regular. 

"You're dating a supervillain?" other-Tony asked. 

"You're not great at listening, are you," Tony said, lazily rolling his head to look at him. "We established earlier that she's good. Are we ready to work on getting us home or are we waiting for someone else?" 

"Someone like who?" 

"Richards or Strange. Personally I prefer Richards, at least his cloak doesn't have a mind of its own. Of course that's because he doesn't wear a cloak at all, but eh." 

"I don't know anyone named Richards or Strange, so it's just the two of us." 

*

They couldn't get it figured out in the few hours that they had that night, so other-Tony gave them a room and mentioned that yes the door locked and yes, there were condoms in the attached bathroom. They locked the door as soon as they went in, though they didn't doubt that it could be bypassed quite easily. There was no surveillance visible, but there had to be a video feed of some sort-- otherwise these people were too dumb to still be alive. 

"Ugh, I have been in this get-up for far too long," Giuletta groaned, pulling her mask up and off. She’d long since gotten used to being without it around him, which was a relief since she used to keep it on at all times unless the room was too dark for him to see. She set the golden item on the side table next to the bed, massaging her cheeks to get some feeling back; she’d been smiling too much and it pressed into her cheeks when they rounded like that. 

"Yeah, but you look so good in it," he teased. Tony moved up behind her and found the zipper, pulling it down. Sometimes it felt sexy, other times she needed the help in peeling it off because the fabric didn't exactly breathe. It was the same with Tony's suit, only his usually got stuck from blood, not sweat. He helped her get her suit off, rolling it down and down until she could finally step out of it. 

"Turn," she said, and he did. They repeated the process, but it was a little easier this time. He had short sleeves and the undersuit cut off above his knees, whereas hers went all the way down to wrist and ankle. Once it was off, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face to his back. He could feel the long since healed scars against his skin, and she turned to press a kiss against his shoulder. "We're not opposed to having sex in here, right?" 

Tony snorted. "I've done it in far worse." 

"Preaching to the choir there, my love."

#tony stark #madame masque #marvel #fanfic #my writing

[ko-fanatic]

Colours: White

Rating: Teen and up

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Trigger Warnings: Depression, suicide attempt, self harm, hospitalisation

Summary: He wondered, instead of hoped. That was a slight improvement, at least...

Other fanfics in this series: Grey / Blue / Yellow / Green / Purple / Pink / Red / Black

Kaoru didn't know what to think, sitting in the cold, plastic chairs of the waiting room. No one did. He’d cried himself out a few hours ago, Hikaru was just going around in a daze; how do you compute this? How do you act after your friend tries to kill himself, and would've succeeded if his father hadn't walked in. It was a thought that was so… hard to get your head around. Had it not been for chance, Kyoya would be hanging from his closet door - a corpse.

The upperclassmen were asleep, Mori's head tilted so crookedly to the side that his neck looked broken, Hunny tucked into a small lump in his lap. Nothing too unusual, except for how restless the sleep looked, not peaceful at all. Then there was Tamaki, who'd also cried himself out, staring blankly at the wall, and Haruhi had her hand on his back in an attempt to keep him grounded. Still, it all felt like some alternate reality, like beyond this room was a void and nothing had ever existed. But that wasn't right.

Beyond this room was a ward. In that ward, in a private room, the most intriguing and spellbinding boy he'd ever met lay prone and pale, a tube down his throat and machines beeping. He was alive, but he looked so still it was terrifying. He looked like a sickly doll, a beautiful corpse, a painting that mourned over fallen angels and dead beauties. It was so disturbingly perfect.

“I'm fine, Tachibana, leave me alone,” Ootori-san hissed for what had to be the fifth time that hour, glaring at the other man, “I need to be here. What makes you think I can go home now? What if he wakes up? He's my son, not yours.”

Kaoru dragged his gaze over the two men. They were usually so put together, but after hours of waiting the image had crumbled away. Tachibana was only in his shirtsleeves, jacket, waistcoat and tie abandoned on the chair next to Hotta – who had his face in his hands. For men who were just so composed and tough, it was odd to see their eyes bloodshot and the skin around them a tender pink. Well, at first he thought it was; but they’d cared for Kyoya all his life, picked him up when he fell and protected him from any possible threat. They taught him and laughed with him, and they were all honorary fathers in a way.

And the boy they cared so deeply for tried to take his own life.

Ootori-sama’s shirt was untucked from his trousers, creased and looking incredibly sloppy compared to his usual standard. His eyes were also a little pink around the edges, framed with lines and shadows that made him look almost as sick as his son. Tachibana should give up on trying to convince his employer to go eat and sleep, it wasn’t going to work. Yoshio Ootori might not have been a great dad, but he was human. Unfortunately, he was a little messed up and it just clashed with Kyoya’s own issues.

The less said about his mother, the better.

He sighed, leaning back and thinking on all that had transpired in the last few hours. It was mad, how life can just swerve in a new direction at a moment’s notice, taking you off-guard and sending everything spinning like a car hitting a patch of black ice. It left everyone reeling, but now that Kaoru thought on it more… It wasn’t out of the blue. Kyoya was obviously not okay, they just… didn’t help.

The realisation lodged something uncomfortable in his chest, a small rock made of guilt that scraped his lungs when he breathed. He saw Kyoya… three hours before? Maybe four? It was almost sickening to think that he thought the other boy was fine – even if he wasn’t okay – only for something like that to happen.

He didn't blame Kyoya. He'd been suffering for a while, after all; desperate people do desperate things. He blamed himself, he blamed everyone in this fucking room actually, but he was the selfish one. He didn't want to see Kyoya pained, and so he just left him. Well done, asshole. Jesus. He and Hikaru weren't that different, despite others thinking of him as the “less self-centred” twin - a pack of lies if he ever heard them.

“Right, okay, we've got food,” Yuuichi sighed as he, Akito and Fuyumi re-entered the room with their armfuls of soggy sandwiches and packets of crisps. They ended up just dumping them on a nearby coffee table, clearly too tired to do much else, looking ready to just collapse any second.

“Just... Help yourself, I guess,” Akito grunted, gesturing vaguely before slumping down into a chair next to his father.

It was all rather melancholy, as expected. He wouldn't want it to be jovial, it'd be jarring and out of place, not to mention thoroughly heart-breaking. The small victory of this was that Kyoya survived; but that was it. It was both the biggest silver lining and the smallest victory they could achieve. He wasn't okay, they couldn't kid themselves into thinking he was, and so they were finally forced to act like his fucking loved ones - like they should've done all along.

Yoshio's phone rang once more, and he cancelled the call with a murmur of “stupid woman” under his breath. Kaoru didn't understand why Kyoka was still trying; she wasn't going to see him anytime soon. Yoshio was angry, the bodyguards were angry, Kyoya's siblings were angry... He just found it better to not ask, even if that's what helped this shit to fester in the first place.

Hours were ticking by at the same speed as millennia, the room silent once more. It was stifling, the hands of the clock either frozen or winding backwards, all sense of time confused and swallowed under the tangible fear, concern and guilt in the room. But he couldn’t leave. None of them could leave the hospital, because what then? How would they ever hope to convince Kyoya that life could be lived if they didn’t even stick out the time in the sterile room.

Of course, a nurse did come, eventually. He was no longer in danger, but they were worried about the damage done to his larynx. He was still tubed, still sleeping, but he could have visitors now. Just one at a time, possibly two, they shouldn't overwhelm him. After all, there'd be enough to take in when he wakes up - diet plans, medication, the 72-hour watch - without having the room crowded.

Of course, despite Yoshio's insistence that he stay, he assured them all that it would be best for him to not be the one he woke up to. Their relationship was rocky, and he didn't want to strain him, pressure him. He just insisted that it couldn't be him, no matter if Kyoya was his child and the baby of the family. Kaoru saw where Kyoya got it from, Yoshio's thoughts seemingly spiralled behind his eyes, and overthinking was certainly an Ootori trait - both a blessing and a curse.

“If it's okay... Does anyone mind if I go?” Fuyumi piped up, hand raised so delicately, almost nervously, “I know you all want to see your friend, I just... I just…”

Her eyes were glazed, threatening to spill over, everything seeming to hit her at once. Her baby brother tried to die, that was a hard thing to even think about, and Kaoru didn't blame her. In fact, he looked up to her. She just dried her tears and carried on; a strong woman.

“I need to see him.”

Kyoya was so... out of it.

His eyelids felt almost too heavy to even think about lifting, the beeping slowly growing in volume was piercing, and he just wanted to drift away once more. Everything was so muffled, but too vivid. His throat hurt. Everything hurt.

His mind was so slow. It was straining just trying to think of what happened - not to mention what was going on now. It was like wading through thick treacle, the rotted cells of his brain clumping together and turning into a goo that was far too viscous. It was like he was floating a couple of feet above his own body, unable to feel. He was sick of how intangible it all was.

Is this what death is like? Endless darkness for all eternity, nothing to occupy himself with? Maybe his aunt was right, maybe this was hell.

There was singing. It was gentle, sweet, some sort of lullaby that resided in dusty memories he didn't revisit for... whatever reason. He didn't know. The hand in his hair gently combed through the knotted strands, dexterously avoiding sharp pulls that plunked his hair from the follicle. It was so maternal, so caring, and he knew who it was immediately.

He tried to speak, but couldn't. Instead, he choked, his eyes going wide with panic as he found he couldn't move his hands, blinding him with bright white that he really wasn't ready for. Something plastic was in his mouth, down his throat, and he couldn't even move without something forcing his hands to stop.

“Kyo... Hey, Kyo, calm down,” Fuyumi tried to soothe, but he just shook his head vigorously, pulling even harder, “Kyo, you're okay. You're fine. You've got a tube down your throat to help you breathe, okay? You can't take it out.”

The beeping he'd heard in that odd, black place was getting increasingly fast, increasingly shrill. He still couldn't move his hands, and he wanted the tube out. It felt so uncomfortable, so stiff he was gagging and choking on it, and no matter how hard he thrashed he couldn't get out of whatever this was.

Restraints?

Sure enough, the cuffs secured his wrists to the bed railings, soft and mailable so he didn’t hurt himself. After all, what would be the point of tying down your patients if they could just tear their wrists open on the restraints?

“I’ll call the doctor, okay? Just stay calm… Keep breathing…” She murmured, her voice far too close to a croaked sob, “We love you Kyoya. Just… Please, we all need you here. Want you here. You’ll keep breathing, won’t you?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t know, what with the tube down his throat, but he wasn’t thrashing anymore. His chest still rose and fell a little too quickly, his arms were tense and straining against the straps around his wrists, but his eyes were locked onto her. His darling big sister.

He could see the tears freely pouring down her cheeks, smile watery and crumbling into dust by the second. She was trying so hard not to break, and it hurt in his chest. It was keen and sharp, rather than a mellow ache, and God did it hit him hard. Of course, guilt didn’t fix it all. Love couldn’t pull him back from the edge. That would be all too perfect and Hollywood-ready.

Instead, he let his eyes fall closed once more, and wondered if he’d stop breathing in his sleep. But he wondered, rather than hoped, and that was a small step. 

A/N: Can you believe there’s only one chapter left? Me neither! 

#ouran high school host club #ohshc #Kyoya Ootori #Fuyumi Ootori #kaoru hitachiin #Yoshio Ootori #Akito Ootori #Yuuichi Ootori #hikaru hitachiin #takashi morinozuka #mitsukuni haninozuka #tamaki suoh #haruhi fujioka

[littlev1234]

The Young Build Homes - Chapter 3

Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal

Warnings: mentioned past animal abuse (not done by any of the characters)

Words: 2,386

AO3 Version: The Young Build Homes

Other Chapters: [First] [Previous]

                                                       Naruko

Muffled curses floated up to Naruko and Onoda’s ears as they walked on the road beside the river.

They stopped and shared a confused glance. In order to reach the actual riverbank, one would have to use the vertical drop beside the road, and on this side there was no easy slope to climb back up.

“Did an idiot jump down there?” Naruko questioned.

“Maybe there was something down there they needed?” Onoda suggested. “Let’s see if they need help.”

“All right. But if it’s any bullies we know, then I’m leaving ‘em there.”

The bespectacled boy flashed him a small, knowing smile as they walked over to the edge of the drop. “No you wouldn’t.”

Naruko returned the grin. “You’re right. I’m too awesome to leave a damsel in distress.”

Crouching down, they peered over the fifteen foot dirt cliff.

At the bottom a scowling male cursed again and plunged his fingers into the hard soil. However, because he used only one arm, he couldn’t gain enough leverage to climb. His other arm held a bunched up jacket against his torso. His black hair and clothes were plastered to his skin, and he blinked away a stray droplet that fell down his brow. He hadn’t noticed them yet; his attention flicked between the jacket and the wall of soil in front of him.

A junior, Arakita. Naruko knew a little bit about him. Known for his frequent fights and quick fuse, Arakita avoided anyone except those who dared to throw insults or start a brawl.

Onoda inhaled sharply and pointed to a wet plastic bag near the struggling boy. Then Naruko noticed a tiny lump of unmoving drenched fur sticking out of it, and his shock swiftly burned into anger.

“What kind of fucking sicko would drown kittens?” the redhead loudly seethed.

Arakita craned his head up and clenched his jaw. “Goddamn, does everyone think I would do this? Stop blaming me and look!”

He shifted the jacket until they could see damp black fur. Naruko’s ire simmered down as he realized what it was.

“You’re trying to save one!” Relief and acclaim were palpable in Onoda’s voice.

Arakita rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Thank God someone finally noticed.”

Had others passed by and refused to help? Naruko harshly clicked his tongue. Whatever Arakita’s deal was, he was trying to save a kitten now. He couldn’t imagine walking away.

“Hold on, we’ll get you out!” The redhead laid down on his stomach and reached his hand down.

Arakita shot him an unimpressed look. “I appreciate the attempt, but both of you are way too short for me to reach your hands.”

Growling under his breath, Naruko couldn’t deny it. His crimson gaze darted around the slow-moving river, the bank, and the road behind them, but he spotted nothing that could help. They could try using their shirts like ropes, but there was a chance of them ripping—especially since Naruko’s had a few holes in it already.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed three people walking down the road. His mouth opened to call out, but when he recognized the trio, his mouth clamped shut in aggravation.

Midousuji, Mizuta, and Doubashi. No way in hell would those guys help.

Yet Onoda shot up and stepped toward them. Naruko scrambled to his feet and dashed to Onoda’s side.

“W-We really need your help!” Onoda’s voice shook, but his resolute gaze never left the trio.

Mizuta scoffed while Doubashi cast them a bored look. However, they did slow to a stop. Behind them Midousuji peered at the ones who dared to call out to them, and his eyes narrowed into slits.

“As if. Why would we want to help you?” Mizuta sneered.

Onoda’s shoulders hunched inward, and his eyes dropped to the ground.

There was nothing they could offer them that they’d want. Naruko placed a hand on Onoda’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s go back. We’ll figure something else out without these pricks—”

“Please!” Onoda spouted out. Hands clasped tightly together, he met their gazes once more. “Doubashi and Midousuji, you two are tall and strong so maybe—”

Teeth clicking together with far more force than should be possible interrupted him. White teeth bared, Midousuji straightened his spindly torso and tilted his head just a little too much for comfort. The veins in his thin neck stood out amongst his pale skin.

What the fuck. Naruko threw an arm in front of Onoda.

“You heard him.” Midousuji drawled, and as he spoke he dragged slim fingers down his own cheek. “We have no interest in insects…unless you have something to offer.”

Mizuta’s braces gleamed when he grinned. Doubashi crossed his arms with an amused smirk.

Naruko gritted his teeth, and a bead of sweat ran down his temple. Neither he nor Onoda spoke.

Midousuji tugged mercilessly at the skin on his jawline. “As expected. The squashed red bean can’t even afford to eat lunch every day, and the frightened mouse has only a mother who meanders through bills by taking tedious jobs and child support. Your combined status is equivalent to a crippled house fly.”

Rage burned away Naruko’s wariness.

“Shut the hell up,” Naruko growled. “Where do you get off shit-talking us about money?!”

“Not money. Resources,” he hissed.

“Give it up. You’re not going to get anywhere,” Doubashi advised, amused. “What do you want us for anyway?”

“Arakita is stuck by the river,” Onoda tentatively explained.

Doubashi glowered. “Leave the bastard. If you hang around him, you’ll get sucked into more fights.”

“Time?” Midousuji interjected. His head whipped toward Mizuta.

Mizuta jumped at the sudden order, and then he fumbled for his phone. “Uh…5:47.”

Midousuji muttered something before walking away. The other two trailed after him.

“Screw you guys. You could have just said no!” Naruko shouted after them.

Onoda released a shaky sigh. “It could have been worse, I guess.”

“Whatever,” Naruko dismissed, but he swore that next time Midousuji’s gang talked like that he’d punch in someone’s face. They returned to the edge of the drop.

“Was that Doubashi?” Arakita called up.

“Yeah,” the redhead confirmed.

“He’s probably still pissy that I knocked his tooth out last month.” Arakita glanced down at the bundle in his arm, and his sharp features softened with concern.

“Maybe I can go get a rope from somewhere,” Naruko suggested.

Onoda’s eyes lit up. “Wait! Didn’t Imaizumi say he lives in the neighborhood near here?”

“That rich neighborhood? Yeah, I think so.”

“I’ll text him. He’ll know what to do.”

Luckily Imaizumi texted back immediately, and soon he arrived in a sleek black car. Roll of rope in hand, he slid out of the backseat and hurried toward them. The driver drove off to find the nearest parking lot.

“We had some in the garage,” Imaizumi said as they led him to the spot. He let down one end of the rope and instructed Arakita to tie it around his waist.

“Naruko, help me pull him up. Onoda, get ready to take the kitten.”

“I never said I was taking orders from you,” Naruko grumbled, but he wrapped his arms around Imaizumi anyway.

Arakita managed to find a few shallow footholds along the way, and they managed to get him to the top. He handed Onoda the kitten so he could drag himself over the edge.

“Thanks,” Arakita said, and his eyes darted back to the small feline. Blue eyes wide and body shivering, it mewled weakly and tried to move its limbs. The cloth surrounding it prevented it from squirming away.

“We should take it to a vet,” Onoda insisted.

“It’s Saturday. None are open today,” Naruko reminded.

“My house is close. It can stay there, and I’ll ask my driver to pick up some things for it,” Imaizumi decided.

Onoda beamed. “Thank you so much, Imaizumi! I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“He’s right,” Naruko begrudgingly admitted. His and Imaizumi’s attitudes contrasted like oil and water, and due to that they argued often. But Naruko would never deny that Imaizumi was a good guy, as well as a good friend.

Imaizumi glanced away and cleared his throat.

“I’m gonna go back down there and check around some more. I didn’t see any other kittens, but might as well look.” Arakita swept drying bangs off his forehead.

“We can look,” Naruko offered, and he smiled at Onoda’s approving glance. “I bet hotshot doesn’t know the first thing about animals, and you need a change of clothes anyway. Go with him.”

“Hah?”

“We’ll go on the opposite side of the river where there’s a place to get back up,” Onoda added.

“And we’ll figure everything else out from there,” Naruko finished.

Arakita looked between them, stupefied. When Onoda handed the kitten back to him, he snapped out of it, and his expression returned to his usual, if softer, frown.

“Fine. Don’t do anything stupid.”

Imaizumi released a huff of amusement. “Naruko can’t promise that.”

“Hey!” Grinning, Naruko crossed his arms. “Can it and go. I won’t forgive you if your slowness makes the cat worse.”

As Imaizumi and Arakita left, Naruko and Onoda jogged down the road, over a bridge, and found a slight slope on the riverbank. Their gazes roamed the river and grass with each quick step they took.

Finding nothing but empty soda cans and a burger wrapper, they walked far down the river until they reached the fence. The road had veered away from the water for some time, so no sounds other than the quiet gurgle of water and birds was heard. A sign reading “WARNING: Unstable Ground Beyond This Point” hung on the fence.

Naruko rested his hand against the metal wire barrier. “This is as far as we can go. We should head back.”

“Yeah,” Onoda agreed.

Naruko turned, and then he spotted a plastic bag sitting half in the river. Its handle was caught on a smooth rock, and the bag swayed as the current threatened to pull it downstream.

“Was that there before?” Naruko questioned.

“I didn’t notice it either. I guess we missed it?”

On the off chance it held another creature, the redhead went over to it and crouched beside it. He pinched one side of it, lifted it, and peered inside.

The ground collapsed below his feet.

Water engulfed him. It rushed into his nostrils and mouth and burned against his eyes. Panic seized his body, screeching SWIM SWIM SWIM. The surface was right there, he could see it, he could make it—

Something latched onto his ankle. Lungs burning, he blindly kicked below him, and then he realized the water’s dropping temperature. A film of ice crawled across the surface.

Cold, so cold. Unfettered fear exploded in his mind.

Worst ice storm in decades. Dad sick, brothers young. Have to get food.

His fingertips were mere inches away from the surface. But his flailing limbs were losing energy, and the corners of his vision darkened.

Walk and walk and walk. Flurry of blinding snow, end up lost. So, so cold.

He was vaguely aware of his ankle being released. Yellowed fangs suddenly appeared extremely close to his right. The sight paled in comparison to the consuming chill leaking into his bones.

Nothing but blinding white in sight. Fingers won’t move. Face, legs, everything numb. Feet impossibly cumbersome. Please move, body, please please keep moving—

A hand plunged through the paper thin sheet of ice and grasped his wrist.

Warm. The fingers were warm.

As if granted a last spark of strength, Naruko forced his free limbs to move one more time.

Gasping and choking, he was half-dragged onto solid ground. Onoda was talking, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Naruko somehow managed to raise himself slightly on one shaking arm before retching water.

Reassuring heat rested on his back—Onoda’s hand. Never more grateful for it, the drenched boy lay there for several minutes coughing. The humid outside air provided relief to his chilled skin. His frame violently shuddered all the while; residual terror lingered with far more intensity than the freezing water.

Onoda’s hand left. Then soft fabric scrubbed his soaked locks before rubbing down his arms.

“Ono…da?” Naruko panted, voice hoarse.

“Oh thank god you’re talking, y-you need to get warm, I think tha’s what I’m supposed to dowhere did the icecomefrom?” The syllables bunched and slurred together as he feverishly wiped the water off his right arm with a now near-soaked shirt.

“I’m…okay.” He squeezed his eyes shut. God it hurt to talk. …wait, shirt?

When he opened his eyes and looked up at the other, he realized Onoda wasn’t wearing a shirt; he was using it to dry him off.

Despite the tremors shaking him, the corner of his lip tugged upward. “Making you worry…it’s pretty lame of me.”

“No no no, don’t say that. I’m just so happy that you…you…” Tears slid down his cheeks.

After a few moments, Naruko shifted into a sitting position and flashed a toothy grin. “I’m fine! I’d be pretty pathetic if I went down that easy.”

Sniffling, Onoda swiped a hand across his eyes and gave a shaky, relieved smile.

Naruko glanced back at the river. The water moved as calmly as ever. Sunlight gleamed off something miniscule, and at first he wondered if it was ice, but it slipped through the fence and left his sight before he could be sure.

Then he remembered the teeth. The lack of oxygen must have conjured that up; he had heard of people hallucinating right before they’re about to die. For a split second there he’d even relived that awful winter where he almost froze to death.

But then there was also the question of what had grabbed his ankle. Definitely not debris or fish. It felt like a humanoid hand.

He shook his head. His heart was still racing, and working himself up would do no good. He stood and pulled off his dripping shirt.

They headed back to the road and walked to Imaizumi’s house. His shivers lessened by the time they reached the building, and he plastered on a smile to combat the weariness tugging at his mind. Onoda’s eyes were still red.

Imaizumi and Arakita ushered them inside and demanded to know what happened.

#naruko shoukichi #onoda sakamichi #arakita yasutomo #yowamushi pedal #yowapeda #imaizumi shunsuke #midousuji akira #doubashi masakiyo #mizuta nobuyuki #drowning #my fics #fanfic #it au #au

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

Killer Queen

Summary: There’s a new recruit at the Barn, not something very interesting for Mitch. But this time, it’s different. What makes an insolent, impolite and inattentive girl so special? That’s what everyone is wondering. And especially. Why is she always listening to music?

Word Count: 6677

Fandom: American Assassin

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

A/N: This is it! The first part of my entry for @inkstiles​ writing contest with the prompt Teach Me! Yeah, you heard me right, first part! Second part is already in the process of being written! This is also my first story written in the third pov. And I tried changing my writing style a little, maybe you’ll notice it?

A HUGE THANKS to @honeymoonmuke ​. If this fic is awesome, it’s thanks to Hannah who helped me with it. She kindly took more than 3 days to check it all, help me with my mistakes, made suggestions of better sentences’ formulations because everyone knows English isn’t my first language so sometimes it’s really hard. I hope y’all like this chapter, I sure do!

All the songs mentioned are from Queen and the names of the songs are in the fic. I strongly recommend listening to this group. Ah, and this is partially based on the movie Baby Driver. If you saw it, you’ll understand! If no, it’s a movie I recommend!

psa: I don’t think y’all are familiar with Queen. But there’s a song called Killer Queen and the meaning of the title will be revealed in a further chapter!

Nobody knew why the bosses had decided to accept it. Why a person like her could have been sent here. What the CIA could see in her, this girl no higher than three apples and no heavier than a few wet pounds. What a totally immature and disrespectful child who paid no attention to what was happening around her could do well at Orion’s training camp. There must have been something, a very important hidden talent behind her imperturbable and fixed in a mask of mute neutrality face. She must have something special. But the worst thing was that no one seemed to notice a certain detail, because everyone was too absorbed and excited by the new female presence at the camp.

Almost all the recruits had their noses planted against the glass to watch the new girl that had just arrived, Irene Kennedy by her side speaking with Stan, the latter having his back turned to the house. She had her hands in her pockets and swayed from one foot to the other, staring at the veteran who was talking to her without really seeing him, white threads connecting her ears to an electronic device emitting music only she could hear. The new rookie always and constantly listened to music.

Mitch noticed it. While everyone was salivating through the window, he was watching silently from afar.

Everybody was wondering why she was here, why now, who was she and they whispered like unruly kids as soon as they could about the new recruit. A girl, besides, it was a first time at the Barn. The men were starting to get out of control, and even a man like Mitch Rapp could notice it. In the dormitory where all the recruits slept, a smell of testosterone hovered, the obvious and displaced desire of these stupid guys who supposedly also had talent.

Luckily, the new girl didn’t sleep in the men’s room. Irene or Stan must have planned everything. This was what a certain young man was thinking about, lying in the uncomfortable bed that furnished most of the large room. Mitch had an arm behind his head and stared blankly at the ceiling - not seeing it due to the dark that riddled the room. His thoughts always returned to the girl. In spite of himself and even if he promised himself to never be interested in anything other than his revenge, he couldn’t help wondering what had brought her here. Like him and the others, she had to have good reasons - and good skills to have been chosen by the CIA to integrate the secret program of recruiting.

Mitch got into his bed and turned over with a sigh. He was surprised when the usual image of Katrina dying in front of him didn’t materialise as he closed his eyes to sleep. It had become routine for him - every night since her death, he’d pictured her, her dying screams rattling through her ears. He’d grown so accustomed to seeing her last moment that it shocked him when he didn’t see her and instead saw the new recruit.

Mitch made a choice then, with the unfamiliar features of the new recruit floating through his mind. He decided to pay close attention to the girl. She was hiding something - she had to be.

Running several kilometers in the forest very early in the morning wasn’t something new for anyone. Arriving on time at the starting line was an order, a rule that no one could ever break. If a recruit couldn’t get up one morning for any reason, he was fired. No pay, no goodbye, he had to pack up and leave. No one was an exception and Mitch was always the first to be on the line. So obviously today was no exception; he was the first to arrive.

Mitch waited for all the other recruits to join him, like every other morning. However, this morning was different, and everyone felt it. There was a tension hanging in the air, and it was surely leftover from the arrival of the girl. His body was tense and he glanced to each side quite frequently, waiting for her to arrive, but there was no sign of the girl in sight. The commanders made their usual inspection and gave orders to do the usual 50 push-ups before the start of the race.

“You’re late!”

Mitch’s arms contracted and froze in the position he was in, his face so close to the ground that his breath caused some grains of earth that weren’t frozen on that cool morning to scatter, the mist coming out of his mouth with each breath confirming the low temperature. He turned his head slightly to see a new person who arrived and recognized her immediately. She was at the other end of the line but his dark eyes didn’t miss her arrival, nor the shouting she received for her tardiness. Mitch shuddered. He could practically feel all of the recruits’ desperation as they yearned to know if the girl who had just arrived was going to be fired already.

“Oh, that’s right. We didn’t introduce you,” the supervisor said loudly enough and in a tone so dry that everyone could hear his words. “Get up! ”

Under the sudden order, all the recruits stopped their push ups and got up, ready to hear the rest since everyone was curious to see what was going to happen. Now standing, Mitch could have a better view of the girl.

She was wearing large gray joggings that were too big for her, her hands hiding in the pockets. Despite the chilly weather, she wore only a black t-shirt. Her hair was tied in a ponytail that had obviously been made quickly; rebellious locks were falling on her shoulders. And, of course, her headphones were buried in her ears.

“It’s not my job to criticize Hurley’s choice to accept a girl in our ranks,” the supervisor continued, walking in front of everyone with a stiff gait, his burning gaze grazing everyone. “But whatever. It’s like that, so we deal with it.” He spat on the ground in front of Mitch’s feet who didn’t flinch, his eyes continuing to fix the void in front of him until the supervisor passed so he could watch the girl again. “There is no exception for girls. However.”

The supervisor stopped in front of the girl who was staring at him from the beginning, her eyes placed directly in his. And she never looked down.

“The new ones can have a second chance.” He detailed the girl from top to bottom and raised an eyebrow. “You can all thank Y/n…” he insisted on her name echoing in the forest, a name Mitch repeated mentally, “for what will follow. Everyone, 100 push ups more. And the nice lady too.” His attention turned to the girl again, his brows furrowed. “And you didn’t even hear a fucking thing I said huh, with your earphones …” He lazily pointed at the white threads attached to her ears. “I don’t know why they let you wear that and I don’t care. ON THE GROUND!”

All of them went to the ground, some grumbling their discontent towards Y/n, while others, like Mitch, fell silent and began to work. A last glance away from the ground allowed him to see the girl placed in position, going up and down with her little arms that were strong and steady.

Everyone, including Mitch, wondered if there was music in her ears since she could understand the superior’s orders. Perhaps it was the loud and aggressive voice of the man shouting at her that had allowed her to understand, or simply that her music wasn’t playing loudly.

But the truth was different. And no one could know.

Almost all of the recruits had begun running, already done with their push ups. Everyone? No. A rookie was staying behind, running around on the same spot, a white, old-fashioned electronic device in her hand as she looked in her playlist for a song… No, the song that would allow her to run and surpassed everyone who had taken the lead. Her y/e/c eyes scanned the screen quickly as her finger scrolled through the songs, not hearing the screams of her superior shouting about her lack of participation. But she didn’t care more than that because her thumb had stopped moving, having found the perfect song. If she could have had any facial expression, Y/n would have smiled while reading the name of the song when she pressed play, the much loved and expected melody pouring into her ears. As soon as her head was invaded, her closed eyes reopened and she started to mouth the words.

Empty spaces - what are we living for

Abandoned places - I guess we know the score

On and on, does anybody know what we are looking for…

Her arms went up in the air, ignoring the glances of judgment thrown her way. The lyrics lived in her and running just didn’t matter when Freddy Mercury’s voice sounded so sweetly in her ears.

Another hero, another mindless crime

Behind the curtain, in the pantomime

Hold the line, does anybody want to take it anymore

Y/n still hadn’t started running and the supervisors had gathered around her, continuing to threaten that the consequences would be worse than an expulsion on the first day. Disturbed in her song by the shouting, the rookie suddenly turned her head towards the supervisor and stared at him without saying anything, the music continuing to make his words unintelligible. Feeling that the chorus was coming, Y/n raised her hand to the supervisor, her face usually expressionless showed a little mocking smile when she finally raised her middle finger, taking her action as a cue.

The show must go on,

The show must go on

Inside my heart is breaking

My make-up may be flaking

But my smile still stays on.

Transported by the music, her heels planted in the frozen ground and left visible traces of her passage. Her legs went into action, one step after another separated from a great distance, making her catch up. Nothing could stop her when music made her body feel alive, the sound in her head giving her heart a new motivation. Soon, the surroundings became a mere unimportant color around her, her breathing beginning to burn her chest. Heel, foot, bend the knee. Her way of running exceeded the perfection and the aerodynamics of her little body made her catch up in only a few minutes, the song fading out while she passed another rookie with a face just as insignificant. A new song began, not so fast and catchy, but just enough to give her the energy to continue.

Ooh you make me live

Whatever this world can give to me

It’s you you’re all I see

Ooh you make me live now honey

Ooh you make me live

Y/n had almost arrived at the beginning of the race squad when a sudden sadness took her. Her legs that were transported by so much energy suddenly slowed down as a buried memory resurfaced despite the heavy weight she had put on top of it to never remember. Her run slowed down - only a little at first, but then drastically. And then all the recruits impressed by her speed were disappointed to see that it was only fire, impressive but in reality nothing more than a show.

Mitch had the habit of never giving everything he had during the race, keeping his energy to not catch hateful looks at his very strong cardio. This wasn’t obviously the case for everyone and the young man noticed when the girl overtook everyone at a surprising speed, only to catch up to her a few meters away. He took a last look back before returning to his path, only to see Y/n’s gaze sink into the void as a cinematic memory looped through her brain. That’s when Mitch hesitated. Something told him to go his way, that she just had to be exhausted from having run that far in a short time, but something else told him it was more than that.

So he decided in a groan and slowed down to reach her height. Y/n was hardly running, her usually imperturbable face seemed broken by something going on in her head. There was even a moment when she stopped moving completely, stopped in the middle of the race path, the other recruits passing by, some ignoring her and others sending insults. Her chest went up and down quickly with the lack of breath, but it was indeed much more. Y/n should learn to make better playlists because the lyrics of the song - usually beautiful, joyful and full of life - were synonymous of sadness for the girl.

You’re the first one

When things turn out bad

You know I’ll never be lonely

You’re my only one

And I love the things

I really love the things that you do

Ooh you’re my best friend

“I know what you think. But that’s not what you think,” a young girl with a radiant smile and a joyful face laughed softly, holding in her hands a small box that might seem innocuous to many people. But not for the man in front of her. “For you,” she murmured, holding back a small laugh, stretching out the gift with her little arms. The man took it gently as if it was the most beautiful and precious thing in the world, as if what the box contained was worth thousands of dollars. The man opened the box, took out the papers that were there to take in his hands a rectangular object.

“Y/n … you didn’t have to …” His hands found the colorful paper that came with the object, reading the clumsy, misspelled handwriting of the little girl.

“Happy birthday! You are more than my dad, you’re my best friend,” she laughed softly, taking the man in her arms as best as she could.

“And you are my sunshine.”

That day, happiness reigned in the house echoing with a certain song full of joy that played in a loop for hours. Their song. You’re My Best Friend by Queen.

“Hey, you alright? ”

A figure that wasn’t part of her memory was near her, standing at a respectful distance and snapping his fingers in front of her face. Y/n came out of her thoughts; her eyes temporarily inhabited by emotions resumed their dull and uninteresting hue as they landed on her interlocutor. He was taller than her- well, it wasn’t too hard to overtake her anyway, his hair was rather long and in dire need of a cut and he wore an early maltreated beard. His brown eyes were dark and Y/n knew immediately they were once shining with a bright golden hue.

“Leave me alone.”

That was all she said before starting to run, not turning around, the next song of her playlist pounding through her ears. Mitch just couldn’t believe it: he had bothered to stop, turn around to make sure everything was okay and that’s what he got? The young man vowed to stop paying attention to the new recruit, to never do anything to help her again.

Mitch resumed his run, remembering that the last two to arrive would be deprived of dinner and supper. He really didn’t want to get that punishment for trying to help someone, but the rule was clear: never go back for anyone. And he had just done exactly the opposite for a stranger he only knew the name of.

He knew he wouldn’t make it, well, he could start running the faster but it would surely attract too much attention to him, and he didn’t want that. So, Mitch accepted his defeat and resumed his run at the same speed as before.

And indeed, he arrived last, just after Y/n.

The instructors and all the other recruits were waiting for them at the end of the course. Their vulture eyes stared at both of them, satisfied smiles stamped with pettiness on their faces, all glad that they weren’t the last. Mitch didn’t respond to the provocations, didn’t look at anyone in the eye, and simply walked to the Barn wordlessly as he passed by Y/n. Unlike him, she stared at Mitch the entire time, still wondering why the young man had risked a day of meals to help her. But no matter the reason, an emotion she tried to swallow discreetly got caught in her throat.

Guilt.

After sighing silently, the only woman in the group followed the last of the inward race where the training was about to resume. Training, that’s what everyone thought they were doing. Some quick-witted people had understood, however. It was a recruitment camp. And Mitch seemed to be, for the moment, the rookie most likely to be chosen.

Lunch arrived and only two people stared at their empty plates, several meters away from each other on the big table. Y/n distanced herself from everyone because, as Mitch had noticed, half of the recruits were a little too much interested in her. The men circled around Y/n like hungry vultures around their prey, standing around her all the time, asking questions that were all passing in the void. Her head went from left to right, following the music in her ears as she ignored the assaults of the men. Y/n’s fingers drummed on the table like on a piano, following the melody as her foot began to beat to the rhythm of the song I want to break free. In other circumstances, the lyrics would have made the girl laugh because, in the situation she was in, she really would have liked to get free from everyone and have some quiet time alone.

The moment came, something she knew that would eventually happen. Y/n was mentally prepared for the eventuality because man’s impatience is sometimes followed by acts that may be violent. Frustrated at being ignored, one of the rookies tore the earphones from the girl’s ears, pulling brutally on the white wire hanging in front of her and causing the music to disappear immediately. Y/n remained frozen in shock, the shrill sound returned with even more force in her right ear. Her hands grabbed without seeing the empty and untouched plate on the table, and stood up like a robot. The man who had taken off the earphones by force laughed, his disgusting mouth wide open made her feel nauseous. Y/n had no expression when she slammed the plate on the recruit’s head, plate breaking into several pieces under the impact. The blow made a sound of broken crockery that mixed with the cries of pain of the man. The sound of the other recruits’ gasps of surprise was quickly followed by a long and heavy silence. Y/n stared at everyone, her usually expressionless eyes displaying a burning rage challenging anyone to try her. Then, still without saying anything, she leaned over, picked up her earphones that still emitted sound and put them back in her ears. Y/n then left the cafeteria without hearing the insults of the man who was now very angry too.

The scene that had just happened hadn’t failed to attract attention. Almost everyone had witnessed it, and Mitch hadn’t lost a single moment and mentally remembered to never try touching the earphones of the new recruit. The young man got up from his seat and headed for the training section, passing in front of the rookie who had the audacity to try making fun of Y/n. The rookie, whose name Mitch couldn’t remember, had an open cut on his forehead, a little blood dripping from it to the floor. No matter where she was or how many years of training she had, Y/n wasn’t going to be able to escape the revenge of her victim. At least he knew she could run fast.

The next part of the day’s training was languages, nothing very exhausting. The class consisted of sitting in what looked like a classroom in front of a man who taught various languages. Today’s class, like yesterday’s and all the others of the week, was French, a child’s game for Y/n who spoke fluently the language. So instead of listening to the monotonous words of the instructor who also had a strong accent, the young woman searched in her playlist of the day to put on a song that would pass the time faster. After a few seconds she decided and let herself be lulled by the melody of Bohemian Rhaspody.

The next part promised to be more arduous, because it was the moment to show abilities in hand-to-hand combat.

The recruits were out in the forest and formed a line in front of what everyone called the circle. You had to go in there, fight against someone else and get him out of the circle… or knock him out.

During the entire ordeal, Hurley circled around. He made a point of stopping everyone occasionally, helpfully reminding them that none of them were good enough. Yet.

Most of the recruits had already passed. Half were severely injured and very angry at having lost, the others proudly displaying their victory on their faces. Despite looking everywhere around her, Y/n couldn’t see the man she had almost knocked out with her plate that very morning.

She found her attention shifting from that detail, though, when her attention was recaptured by the fighting. Her eyes never looked away from what was happening, quickly memorizing techniques that made moves more powerful. Y/n had many talents, but also too many flaws. And fighting was not her strong suit.

She could hit as hard as she could, dodge as best as possible the blows of her opponent, remove the knife they had in their hand, but she could never succeed and win. The young woman could already feel Hurley’s imposing gaze burn her neck and the words horrible, useless and pathetic bend his lips with disappointment. Nervousness made her hands sweaty as she watched the other recruits fight.

So caught in her anxiousness, time seemed to slip away, and all too soon it was her turn.

“Y/n, Mitch. ”

Y/n didn’t need to hear her name to know it was her turn. Legs still a little stiff from the inevitable stress of being beaten up and receiving a sermon on her incompetence in combat, she went to the middle of the circle and waited to see her opponent. When her gaze fell on him, a spark of recognition spread through her normally expressionless eyes. She had to fight him?

“With all due respect, I don’t fight girls. ”

His lips didn’t move fast when he was speaking so Y/n had no difficulty understanding his words, although he said them very low as if he didn’t want her to hear. Her hands formed fists and she clenched her jaw. There was still music playing in her earphones, which she had run over her back so she wouldn’t get caught in them, but she could barely hear the song. Suddenly, her fear of being beaten up disappeared under the rage of being again pushed aside because she wasn’t born with the right sex between her legs.

“Is it a refusal to fight?” Hurley walked the distance to Mitch to say his words in front of his face, their noses mere inches from each other.

“No, it’s a refusal to fight a girl,” he corrected. His level of sarcasm was hidden under a layer of polished satin to mask his lack of respect.

“Well, I would’ve made you skip your meals for that answer, but it’s already the case.” Hurley stepped back with a grin before looking at the girl who was still waiting, quietly following the conversation of the two men. “Get out of my sight. Tomorrow you will fight, trust me. Until then have good dreams.”

Y/n found herself breathing out a sigh of relief; this time, she managed to get through it. If the putting looks she’d got from Stan were any indication, she’d bet he had her file and knew hand-to-hand combat was her weakness. And even if he didn’t, she was sure the terrified expression she’d worn for the duration of the activity would have given her away. The nervousness could be easily read on her face because even Mitch noticed it immediately. Usually, Y/n never let any emotion betray her face, but she would have to review her techniques because her mask had cracked. And Rapp had seen beneath it more than once.

If it couldn’t be worse, her belly emitted a painful gurgling reminding her of how hungry she was. And she wasn’t the only one suffering from an empty stomach.

After training, it was the evening meal. Similarly to the morning, Mitch and Y/n weren’t eating anything. Y/n found that being in a room full of food, the appetising scent all around her, was very unpleasant. She didn’t last long before she decided to escape the loud, crowded place for the quiet sanctuary of her room. Mitch was quick to do the same and thus enjoy the hot water before all the other recruits decided to use it.

It was the end of the day, finally, and everyone had been sleeping for a few hours already in the big room where all the beds were. Everyone was a general term because among the strong breaths and snores, gurgles of a stomach also resonated. Skipping a day of meals and keeping the same pace of training were two things that didn’t mix.

Mitch turned to the side, back turned to the door, and hoped that he wouldn’t feel the hunger bite him. As he was trying to ignore the sounds his stomach made, he heard something that alerted him. The young man tensed, ready to react to the slightest sudden movement.

A hand squirmed on his mouth suddenly and his eyes fluttered opened, one of his hands gripping his assailant from behind while his other gripped their wrist. It must have been the very unusual circumference of the wrist or the strange sweetness of the skin that caught his attention. Something was wrong, because Mitch stopped struggling to turn his head and see who was there. His eyes, acclimatized to the darkness, recognized Y/n, who, with her free hand, had placed her index finger at the corner of her mouth. More intrigued than surprised, Mitch nodded and the girl pulled her hand off his mouth before taking a few backwards steps. She then pointed the door with her thumb and tiptoed towards the exit without making any noise, not waiting for him, assuming he was going to follow. And that’s what he did.

It didn’t take long for Mitch to understand where the girl was taking him, but the reason why was still a mystery. Usually, Mitch was a person with an ability to understand things out of the ordinary. But since the arrival of Y/n, a single day in her presence had seemed to unbalance his entire emotional stability.

Y/n was really making no sound while walking and it surprised the young man even more. How could she know whether or not she was making noise if she was constantly listening to music? And above all, why did she always listen to music?

The questions had been turning in his head without stopping since she’d arrived, questions that he had forced himself to keep to himself. Despite having heard her speak once, Mitch still suspected that Y/n was unable to talk.

Finally, after a few corridors, they arrived at a closed door that the girl opened. She entered and waited for Mitch to do the same before closing the door behind them, plunging them both into total darkness, which alerted the nervous young man. The latter was ready to defend himself, wondering if he had done well to follow her so far. But the sudden blinding light confirmed that, aside from a plate on his head, Y/n wouldn’t hurt him.

His eyes took several seconds to acclimatize to the sudden light and he winced at the pain that made his retinas hurt. However, when finally he could see where he was, Mitch didn’t regret having followed Y/n.

The two recruits were in a large room. In the middle, against the wall was a double bed that seemed inviting, and comfortable. On the left, a window hidden behind closed shutters. On the right, a closet. And against the wall near him was an office. On the desk were tens of MP3s of different colors and shapes, perfectly aligned next to each other.

Mitch realized that the room he was in was Y/n’s private room, and a twinge of jealousy was smothered as best he could at the thought of her being treated favorably. Then he remembered that it was probably to protect her from recruits who had big arms and their brains between their legs.

The best part, however, was in front of him. Y/n was standing and waiting patiently, her hair licking her shoulders, the traditional white wire of her headphones linking her ears to a device in her hands. As sleep clothes she was wearing a t-shirt too big for her.

She wore nothing as pants. Her long legs were thin but muscular, allowing her to run for many hours without problems. The skin was smooth and he suspected it had to be incredibly soft to caress.

Mitch’s honey-brown eyes went elsewhere when he felt a desire that all men have when seeing a beautiful woman because he couldn’t afford to feel such things. Planted in the middle of her room, he still wondered what he was doing there and why he had agreed to follow her. But he knew it quickly when he saw what she was holding in her hands.

“Here.”

Only one word was spoken and Mitch had trouble pairing the young woman’s voice with her appearance. Broken, hoarse and low, her word was barely audible, but he understood all the same. In her hands, Y/n was holding two packets wrapped in cellophane which he recognized as peanut butter and jam sandwiches. He hesitated between apple and strawberry jam as he could only see the red color soaked the transparent paper. Distrustful, Mitch reached out and took one of the small packets, only to rest his eyes on Y/n, raising an eyebrow.

“Why?”

The new recruit sighed back and sat with her foot under her thighs on her bed, not caring that her gesture revealied more of her legs and… Panties. “It was my fault that you didn’t eat. So here’s some food.” She dropped her powder-blue MP3 on the mattress next to her and began undoing the cellophane of her sandwich.

Mitch had turned his head away when he had seen too much of her anatomy, red tinting his cheeks too quickly for his liking. He would have liked to be able to hide behind his years of training to not show his obvious embarrassment so openly.

His hand squeezed the meager meal and he swallowed before looking back at the girl who was slowly eating her meal in silence. “That’s it?” Mitch asked in a hoarse, low voice, almost a whisper, still not touching his meal.

“I stole it, if that’s what you’re asking yourself,” Y/n answered without looking at him, and Mitch tilted his head to the side, again surprised that she’d heard what he had said despite her earphones.

Intrigued by her unusual personality, Mitch made a decision he wouldn’t usually make. Instead of just taking what she gave him and leaving, he approached Y/n and sat on the bed near her but at a safe distance, and what’s more, on the edge of the mattress. The discomfort was written in capital letters all over him. After a moment in silence, Mitch undid the cellophane and ate too. And it was only when his tongue tasted peanut butter that he remembered how hungry he was. Oh, it was apple jam.

Feeling that he had to say something, Mitch turned to the girl to look at her again and found Y/n very beautiful. She was a mysterious exotic beauty that probably hid many things behind the imperturbable mask. Rapp swallowed another mouthful before opening his mouth to speak.

“Why?”

He had already asked this question, but this time it was rather rhetorical. Just because he had finished last at the race didn’t mean she had to steal food in the cafeteria and risk getting fired only for a lean but delicious meal. And again, Mitch guessed right because Y/n turned her head towards him to answer. Her eyes plunged into his as she got lost in his beautiful eyes for a moment. Y/n felt so deeply absorbed in his eyes that she lost her breath for a moment, drowning in the torment she found there. It was hard to, but she managed to get out of his grip and decided to fix on another part of his face. Her gaze fell to his lips. Uh oh, bad idea. Immediately, a perverse thought invaded her mind as she imagined all the things his mouth could do. Her tongue slipped out and went to lick her lips before she realized what she was doing and shook her head. After sighing, this time loudly, Y/n honestly answered his question. She didn’t know it yet, but at that moment her heart was beating faster than it had been in years. It was beating, alive, intimidated and somehow inhabited an attraction hidden under a heavy layer of denial.

“I hate to feel those emotions… It’s…disgusting. So I fixed the problem.” Y/n punctuated her answer by crumpling the cellophane and tossing it in her trash like a basketball player. The object flew for a few moments in the air before touching its target.

It was an answer once again unsatisfactory, but Mitch understood and read between the lines. Y/n felt bad, hated the feeling so made sure to not feel it anymore. The young man could understand because he often felt the need to remove the uncomfortable emotions that dwelt in his mind. However, for him, it wasn’t guilt he wanted to silence.

“Okay. Excuse accepted, I guess.” Rapp got up and threw the remains of his meal into the trash, ready to leave without adding anything. However, he heard a faint ‘wait’ and didn’t immediately know if it was Y/n or his imagination. So the young man turned around, a hand on the doorknob and a raised eyebrow in anticipation of a sequel.

“I …” Y/n stood up and, like a cat, silently and skillfully walked towards him, her long legs carrying her on tiptoes near him. His body tensed as she approached and he lost again all his ability. “Tomorrow, I’ll have to do it. I can’t avoid fighting all my life.” Once again, Mitch could see an emotion in Y/n’s face, discomfort? Despair? No - ego. "I fucking suck,” she finally admitted, now very close to Mitch. Too close. He could smell her lavender soap and coconut shampoo. “Teach me. ”

“What?” Mitch couldn’t believe it. Had he heard correctly? The new recruit who seemed flawless, who probably had some kind of favoritism from Irene Kennedy to have her own room and bed and who never seemed to show her emotions asked him for help? To teach her how to fight?

"Teach me,” she repeated as if it was what she said that he had misunderstood, not that he was surprised.

“I understood the first time you said it,” Mitch continued, keeping all his control to not back down and look weak. Without his years of training he would probably have just left. “Why me?”

“You are not like the others.” Y/n tilted her head to the side, her hair slipping over her shoulders even more as her big sad eyes watched him with curiosity. "I hate everyone here. Everyone. They are stupid, don’t see with their eyes and all have misplaced brains. I don’t hate you. You are intelligent, you observe, you see. You listen. ”

Mitch didn’t know if he should take her words as a compliment or just a way to get him accepted. Y/n was smart and handling wasn’t a problem for her. However, the more he thought about it and the more he turned the words in his head the less he thought it was the case. He didn’t think she was manipulating him. She wanted to learn, her eyes shone with the desire to know, to fight, to get better.

“What do I get in exchange? ”

It wasn’t a yes, nor a no. Mitch weighed the pros and cons again. He was a lone wolf. He worked best alone and the only reason for his presence here was the obligation of the CIA and the help he could get that would allow him to achieve his goal faster. Helping a rookie he knew for a day was clearly not in his priorities and would deflect him from his original plan.

“I can help you with languages,” she offered, but when she saw Mitch shake his head, she realized that her knowledge of languages ​​didn’t exceed his.

“Je n’ai aucun problème en langue,” he told her, a tiny smile stretching his lips as he pronounced the words in French without any problem.

Y/n put her index to the corner of her mouth, looking for another offer to propose, a gesture Mitch didn’t missed as he stared at her finger without realizing it. “Aiming? ”

“I’m good. ”

A silence fell again between the two recruits, then Y/n found the ideal compromise.

“A question.”

“What?”

Mitch folded his arms, quickly understanding what she meant.

“I know you’re asking yourself a lot of questions about me. So every time you train me, you’ll have the right to ask me one question. Anything.”

It was a very interesting proposition to the young man who was more and more curious. “Who tells me you’ll answer honestly?” He grinned, a little amused.

"I don’t see the purpose of lying.” Y/n was surprised by how much she was speaking. It must have been years since she had had a conversation with another human being who took the time to talk to her as if she were a normal person. And that warmed her heart in a very special way.

"Okay,” Mitch concluded and crossed his arms over his chest as he pondered a question, licking his lips as he used to when he thought. “How do you understand what people say while you’re listening to music? ”

His question wasn’t too personal, or too vague, and he had been wondering since the morning when she arrived late at the race.

Y/n shrugged a shoulder as she walked to her closet, pulled out a pair of training shorts and slipped on it quickly before tying her hair coarsely. Then she passed by Mitch, closed the light and answered in the dark.

“I read lips.”

Without waiting for him, the girl came out of her room and went to the training room. It was clear to understand, she had answered the question and now it was time for training. And Mitch knew she had told the truth.

But why she read lips was another question. And why did she learn to?

But his questions would have to wait because, for the moment, he had to train a rookie without experience before the sunrise.

Mitch allowed a smile to stretch across his dry lips as he followed Y/N, something he hadn’t let himself do in a very long time. He comforted himself with the knowledge that no one could see him in the dark, anyway.

Forever Tag list: @multilovee @5sospoplikerock @rosecoloredshawn @mieczzyslaw @honeymoonmuke @fox-lau @sarcxstic-stilinski @little-nya

If you liked it, please leave a feedback! I put a lot of time into this one! Also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in further parts or be added in my forever tag list! Thanks for reading :)

#imagine #fanfiction #american assassin #american assassin mitch #mitch rapp #mitch rapp american assassin #amas 2017 #mitch rapp x reader #imagine mitch rapp #american assassin mitch rapp #mitch rapp imagines #fanfiction mitch rapp #dylan o'brien american assassin #american assassin fanfiction #mitch x reader imagine #mitch x reader threeshot #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien imagine #inkstiles writing challenge #inkstiles wc #killer queen #crossing fingers #really hope people will like it #like i'm legit nervous #please tell me what you thought of it

[onceuponaprincessworld]

CaptainSwan Soulmate AU Recs

Hello CS Fandom and Happy New Year! I ‘ve decided to start this year with a list of some wonderful Soulmate fics. Hope you enjoy!

If you are intrested you can find my other lists here.

Mutlichapter

Complete

Countdown,  @paranoiaqueen

What if you could have a countdown until you met your soulmate? Emma Swan thinks it's all b.s. and that she doesn't need some guy in a lab coat to tell her who to love but then she meet a dashing Brit in a pub. He has a messed up timer, one with no match. Killian Jones was a man with no countdown until he'd leave her. But can she open herself up to love?

The Music of the Heart Soulmate Finder, @whimsicallyenchantedrose

Emma Swan is skeptical of the newest rage in the dating world--The Music of the Heart Soulmate finder. When Mary Margaret convinces her to get one for herself, will it point her to her own soulmate? Will she have the courage to open her heart to the possibility of True Love?

foxtrot uniform charlie kilo, @swanisms

In order to get into the soulmates exclusive apartments outside of uni and escape their shitty roommates, Killian and Emma pretend to be soulmates.

My Thoughts Are With You,  Shut_up_im_reading

Emma never thought she would need or even want a soulmate. She was happy with what she had… until it was gone. Neal left her, taking all she had and leaving her with nothing so when she meets her soulmate she’s not interested. But when she can hear him in her mind it’s hard to ignore one plan and simple fact. Emma Swan and Killian Jones are meant to be together.

Amaranthine, @caprelloidea

In which soulmates are rare, and those that have them stop aging at adulthood. Rarer still – and dangerously conspicuous – are those that have special abilities. Immortality and powers alike fade when soulmates come in close proximity with their other half. In which Emma’s touch heals, and Killian’s kills.

More Than All the Stars, @cutieodonoghue

In a world full of soulmates, Emma Nolan doesn’t know who hers is. Enter Killian Jones, attempting to stop his brother from proposing to his soulmate, only to be thrown a curveball when he’s sent to spend Christmas on a farm with a bunch of strangers. (soulmate modern au)

Wip

I See The Light (Now That I See You), @bisexual-killian-jones

Emma was twenty-six when she could finally see colors, after she had lost faith in it ever happening to her. She just wasn't quite expecting it to be him. AU where you only see black and white until you meet your soulmate.

One-shots

Soulmarked, @phiralovesloki

Emma Swan just wants to be loved for who she is, and not because someone feels obligated to love her. It's just her luck that she has a soulmate somewhere out there, while she's already in love with someone else.

You’re the Tune that Stuck, @lifeinahole27

A soulmates au where you can have any number of things happen to reveal you have a soulmate. In this one, Emma suddenly hears the songs that her soulmate are either listening to or have stuck in their head.

first day of my life, @piratesails

Killian has never been one to give in. No matter how shitty the hand he’s been dealt. Because, really, Times Square on New Year’s Eve just as the ball’s about to drop? Bloody hell, you’ve got to be kidding him.

Soulmate AU where you get a tattoo telling you the time and place you’ll meet them.

Forget-me-nots on my Skin (Forevermore), @lirapheus

Soulmate!AU in which you see the world in black and white until your soulmate comes into your life, a burst of colour among the dull crowds. And once you touch your soulmate, the whole world comes alive.

Killian Jones is an English tattoo artist who moves to New York after his brother's death. Emma Swan is helping Mary Margaret with her flower shop in The Big City. (She has never been a flower person, but she needs to pay the rent.)

Missed Connections, @captainswanluver

Emma Swan doesn’t think she’ll ever see the handsome stranger she spilled coffee all over again. Killian Jones doesn’t believe he’ll ever see the beautiful blonde who ruined his shirt. So they couldn’t be more surprised when their paths keep crossing, only to find that something keeps standing in the way of them making a lasting connection. But when you keep meeting the same person over and over again in a city of 8 million people, is it mere coincidence or fate?

Zemblanity, @lenfaz

William Boyd coined the term zemblanity to mean somewhat the opposite of serendipity: "making unhappy, unlucky and expected discoveries occurring by design". A zemblanity is, effectively, an "unpleasant unsurprise". It derives from Novaya Zemlya (or Nova Zembla), a cold, barren land with many features opposite to the lush Sri Lanka (Serendip).

The Time Tattoo, @onceuponabadass

What would you do if you knew when the most important moment in your life was going to happen? For Emma Swan that moment was 23 years 22 days 8 minutes and 15 seconds away... and it was only getting closer.

Dumbledore Guy, @seeknot2alterme

When Emma was born she was marked with, in her opinion, the worst soulmate mark anyone could ever have. People are born marked with the first words their true love would ever say to them, and Emma's happened to spoil one of the greatest plot twists of all time.

Scar of the Heart, @curiousthingdarkness

Emma Swan hunts alone. Except on nights when Killian Jones, fellow demon hunter and pain in her ass, insists on joining her. When dealing with a particularly troublesome beast, they discover that perhaps there is more to each other than meets the eye.

Like Rum On The Fire, @nightships

Emma Swan grows up learning to never expect the spark of true love on her skin and lives in Boston as a bail bondsperson. Killian Jones never expects to feel love again after he loses Milah, but finds his revenge may lie in the hands of the Savior. Both of them are surprised when he breaks into her home on the night of her birthday.

how close is close enough, @swanisms

There’s something to be said for the way a soulmate fucks.

The movies, the novels, the articles, the “Soulmates Are Great, Get Yours Now!” sales pitch is that love-making isn’t truly love-making until it’s your One True Love. Too optimistic, “Once Upon a Time” to consider that making love to your soulmate could be the last thing you want.

Fucking them, however, has its perks.

Skin Deep, @captainodonewithyou

There is a soulmate tattoo headcanon popping around on tumblr about soulmates having tattoos of the last words their love will say to them. My friend told me to write it, and I did. Captain Swan angst ahead. (pirate)

Spoilers, @thejacketandthehook

Emma Swan has a soulmate tattoo on her ribcage that gives her pretty big spoilers for the Harry Potter universe.

and you’re mine, @belovedcreation

soulmate au where instead of your soulmates first words to you written on your skin it’s their last words you ever hear them say so you don’t know who your soulmate is until you lose them.

Is There Anyone Out There ('Cause it's Getting Harder and Harder to Breathe)?,  LovingCSFanfiction

Not everyone finds a soul mate, but those lucky enough can see color. It’s not a terrible life if you never find a soul mate. You can still fall in love and live a happy and healthy life. You can still have a family and want nothing more than to have them be the last person you see at night and the first person in the morning. You can still have an unexplainable bond with them. Having a soul mate is just the little extra oomph to the relationship, and you don’t know the oomph if you’ve never had it. So, you’ll find someone you love and not know what’s missing, and everything will be okay. That is exactly what Emma Swan did when she married Neal Cassidy at 18, and exactly why it became a problem when she met her real soul mate, Killian Jones, 10 years later. CS Soul Mates AU.

like the sun, kathleenfergie

“What gave me away this time?” he asked.

“Well, you’re always English and your eyes never change. It gets easier every century,” she explained.

True Love Leaves a Mark, @sotheylived

Emma learns that the tattoo she’s had written directly above her heart for more than ten years may have come from something other than a long night of drinking.

danced in the dark (under september stars), @thejollypirate

For a person to have a soulmate, their compass needs to point toward them. That sounds simple enough, right? Yeah, well it's not so simple when it comes to Emma Swan's life. Between feeling she doesn't deserve a soulmate to perhaps finding a man who could fill in that gap of missing love, there's just one little thing that's a problem. Her compass only points north - broken.

(the one for you and me), @swanisms

And, most importantly, she’s praying to whatever gods there are that might hear her plea - even though they’ve never listened before, not when she needed them most - that this is not the time of the year that her soul mate decides to come out as a closeted Christmas nut and start blasting it in her head, where she won’t be able to find any escape. (Holiday Soulmates AU).

Stardust in Your Skin, midwestwind

Emma Swan may believe in magic and curses and fairy tales but she absolutely does not believe in soulmates.

marked,  lantanapetals

captain swan; soulmate tattoo au.

give me a shot at the night, birdbox (Bella_Barbaric)

Emma stares at her wrist in her lap, her breathing getting shallow; she even tries, stupidly, to scrub the letters off but like David's and Mary Margaret's they're stuck fast. Forever. She has a soulmate. Somewhere in London, her soulmate is walking around—and probably just found her own initials tattooed onto their wrist. She might be within days of meeting them.

Only One Way This Could Go, @wingedlioness

I need a fic where Emma and Killian are soul mates and everyone knows (because their soul mate identifying symbols are like super visual), but they act like rivals and say they “don’t want to be forced together”, but are actually secretly dating after a drunk hook up.

Written in the Stars, @herfairy

Emma Swan wasn't an expert on love – mainly because she didn't believe in it and no soulmate was going to change her mind.

Two-Shots

I Will Learn to Let You Go, @lifeinahole27

Killian Jones, having lost his own soulmate years before, spends his free time finding the soulmates of other people. It’s what he’s good at, and he gets paid well to do it. Finding the soulmate of his latest client may prove to be the worst job he’s ever taken on, though. It’s not because Emma Swan is hard to find, but because he finds himself falling in love with her.

#cs ff #cs rec fic #cs rec ff #CS fic rec #cs ff rec #CS fanfics #cs fanfiction #cs au #cs rec list #my rec list #Captain Swan #captain swan fic rec #captain swan fanfiction #cs soulmate