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#like i have no clue what to expect and i dunno if its good but it doesnt matter if its good!! i wanna see it!!
seb-reads31 · 5 months
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Hey, so was wondering if you write some headcannons about Keyleth and a Warforged Fighter, and have it be kind of like a mother/child relationship. If you need something to go off of, basically she and the rest of Vox Machina found it busted up while traveling, and she helped it using druid magic. I dunno, sounded kinda cool
Tw's - Mentions of alcohol, basically an abandoned child 😭, possible abuse??, Scanlan being Scanlan, overprotective mama Keyleth because of Scanlan if you so please, me not knowing Warforged anatomy because there wasn't anything helpful online 😭
Genre - Fluff
Type - Head canons
Comments - AWWWWW 😭💖💖 Now, I have no clue what a Warforged fighter is so I'll be doing a lot of research on it. If anything is wrong PLEASE tell me and I'll correct it as quickly as possible 🤧
Don't worry, mama's here
- It all started when Vox Machina were travelling together to the next town over when Vex had heard sparks, and what sounded like metal grinding against metal.
- They were confused, and decided to send Vex, Percy, and Keyleth to investigate the sounds.
- It didn't take too long before they found a small, humanish shaped clump of metal, sparks flying out of it's side. The metal grinding against metal was it trying to move it's legs which were covered in rust, as well as other parts of its body.
- It was sad.. the poor thing couldn't even see, its eyelids being rusted shut.
- Keyleth accidentally stepped on a twig when trying to get closer to the small, child-like, Warforged startling herself, Vex, Percy, and the aforementioned Warforged.
- It attempted to speak, their voice coming out in squeaks and scrapes, "W-who's t-t-there...?"
- The voice was quiet, but the forest was quiet enough for the small group to hear the poor thing try to speak.
- Keyleth kneeled down Infront of the small automaton with a kind smile on her face, even though they couldn't see it.
- "My name is Keyleth, but you can call me Kiki for short. What's your name?" She asked in a sweet voice.
- The small automaton answered in kind, but with a small scratchy voice. It sounded like its voice box was either damaged or rusted as well, and no one knew why it was rusted, possibly beaten, then just left here to face the elements.
- Keyleth felt bad for it, and looked towards Percy, silently asking if he could help them. Percy was a bit hesitant, but with the help some puppy eyes from Keyleth the white haired artificer relented and offered his help to the small Warforged.
- They were hesitant, skeptical, but accepted the help. The 3 called Grog over so he could carry the automaton to the next closest town.
- During the next few hours of travel, Keyleth started talking to the Warforged about their adventures, telling them many stories, some adventurous, while some are funny and light hearted.
- Scanlan attempted to tell one of his.. "adventures" in the bedroom before Keyleth gave him a dark glare, silently warning him to not even dare in front of the child-like machine.
- He immediately shut up and quickly walked away from Keyleth, slightly afraid to anger her again.
- After some odd hours, they reached the town as the sun started to set in search of an inn to rest. Unfortunately, they didn't get to drink much, if anything at all while Percy did his best to fix the dents, scraps, gashes, and try to remove any rust that was left over, mostly focusing on the eyes so they could see where they were and wouldn't panic too much about any loud noises such as yelling or banging.
- It took a little bit of elbow grease (as well as some help from a passerby who gave some advice) and voila! The small Warforged could see again!
- They were happy, yes, but also a little startled at the sudden light and faces. The first person they took a good look at was Keyleth, almost as if they knew that she was the first person who spoke to them.
- There was adoration, wonder, and a warmth in their robotic eyes you would never expect from a Warforged.
- They didn't say anything to Keyleth, instead allowing Percy to take a look at their voice box (I'm guessing here, correct me if I'm wrong at any point-) so he could fix the scratching sound in their voice when they talk.
- As Percy worked, you would occasionally look at Keyleth, but would quickly look away if she looked at you.
- After about 15-20 minutes, Percy was finally done. He did what he could to make your voice less scratchy, but just enough for you to speak without feeling like you were eating heavily rusted nails.
- Percy had you say a few things to test your voice and see if he needed to make any adjustments, but everything went well! You could speak just fine, and the first thing you said was directed at Keyleth, "You're really nice, and pretty."
- Everyone at the table just looked at you like you grew a second head! Well, everyone but Keyleth.. she was on the verge of happy tears. . . probably because she was in the middle of a drinking contest with Grog when you said that, and she's a pretty emotional drunk.
- She quickly placed down her very large mug of beer and hugged you tightly. She basically adopted you from that moment on, and the small Warforged joined her and Vox Machina in their adventures to come!
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withacapitalp · 1 year
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Hehehe sappy New Years post today bc yesterday did not go the way I expected. It’s still the new year day!!!
But God I do not know how to explain 2022. 
My favorite word is dichotomy. For a lot of reasons, but also because I feel like it describes my life a lot. Because 2022 was the best and worst year of my life so far. I got to teach the most amazing group of children I have ever met, and did well enough that they’re personally asking me to come back and teach there, I wrote my thesis, worked three jobs, managed to graduate on time with a double major no one had ever attempted at my college, all the while interning and volunteering on the side and going to conferences to speak about my research. 
And the entire time- as I genuinely, honestly, loved every minute- I was spiraling inside. 
It was so bizarre to me, all of the bad stuff was over, everything should have been good. Only the most amazing things were coming my way, things most people dream about getting in their lives, and I was so upset I couldn’t breathe some days. In my criminally logical brain I couldn’t understand why I was fine through everything bad, but now that things were good I really wasn’t okay. 
That’s the thing. When you’ve lived in survival mode for fifteen of the twenty one years of your life, you don’t realize the crash that comes from finally escaping the thing that was trying to kill you. I’d spent so long just getting by, that I had no idea how to live now that I had the chance. I was trying, and doing pretty well, but it just felt so…broken for lack of a better term. 
But I kept with it. I loved when I could, and I healed whatever was possible to heal.
Which brings me to August, which brings me to Stranger Things, which brings me to one of the most amazing groups of people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Friends, Confidants, Creators, Inventors…Everything. Not only did I get a reinvigorated love for my writing, but I also got just the most lovely people in the whole world. At the risk of being too sappy, something that is more valuable to me than even my writing. People who slid into my life like they had always meant to be there, who understood me in ways I never expected to be understood. 
I don’t know how to explain the absolute insanity for me of jumping into a server, having them all be on talking so fast my head was spinning, mildly considering just running for the hills bc how was I going to fit into a group that was already working so well together??, then saying fuck it and just giving them me exactly as I was, only to find they actually really liked that person, and I found that I did too. 
Love is a weird concept for a lot of people, they think it has to be something deep and sacred. I just think it’s a gut instinct kind of pull, if it's deep, it's deep, if it isn't, it's still valid and true, and I haven’t met a person in this fandom who hasn’t had that same kind of pull for me. 
From the people I’ve talked to once, to the ones I talk to every day, to the ones I don’t talk to at all who just hang out in my notes and sometimes leave tags on their reblogs (Yes I see you! I know you all by name and I get excited when I see its you in my notifications). From the people who comment on all my stories, to the ones who I see every day on my daily drabbles….I dunno it’s just really interesting to feel valued and not immediately want to shy away from that. 
My New Years resolution as always is to be more in connection with people so! If you’ve ever had the urge to talk to me pls don’t hesitate to reach out. I generally dont bite, and I tend to be an okay person haha! 
Anyway my sappy post has gotten as sappy and indulgent as I should let it be. Suffice to say that messed up kid I was in January, the one who had no clue what was coming and was afraid to hope for better, well he was finally able to let down his guard a little, and look what the universe had planned! I hate to say it, because it feels like a jinx, but I think ’23 is gonna be our year :D I'm knocking on wood aggressively as I type this, so hopefully that's enough
Tagging my mutuals/people who always make me so happy to see bc hey we all are and if y’all are being mushy I will also get to be mushy. I am sorry if I didn’t tag you it is not a ‘I don’t care’ and more a ‘I got five hours of sleep after being at the hospital for literally the entire night’ Love you guys!!!! 
 @stevethehairington @henderdads @thefreakandthehair @strawberryspence @gothbat99 @steddieassheg0es @riality-check @hexmionegranger @reindeerrobin @rougenancy @eddieunbanished @bonitabreezy @horsegirleddiemunson @maxinemaxmayfield @ruthofrhythm @willowworkswithwords @h0n3y-dw @marshmellowpaint @silverysnake @lizisodd @thelastwalkingsoul @aringofsalt @babyboyargyle @flowercrowngods @manda-panda-monium 
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celestiall0tus · 8 months
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Miraculous Salvation - Chapter 6 - Game Plan
Beginning || Previous || Next
            Nathalie leaned back in her seat. She held a book in one hand while she petted cat Plagg with the other. A sensation burned within them and shocked their systems. She gasped and dropped her book as her body convulsed at the shock. Plagg’s body trembled, but he shook it off. She shook her head as the sensation passed.
            “She didn’t waste any time, did she?” Nathalie remarked.
            Plagg shook his head.
            Nathalie took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair. Plagg meowed and curled back up on her lap. She reached for her book when her computer dinged, then rang. She looked and saw an incoming call from Colt. She rolled her eyes ant accepted the call.
            “Keeping your late hours, I see,” Colt mused.
            “What do you want?”
            “Has the Tsurugi girl accepted the black cat?”
            “Yes.”
            “Good. How has the propaganda been spreading?”
            “Slowly, though we haven’t actively spread it for certain reasons. However, Paris’s upper class is beginning its whispers.”
            “Good. Apply more pressure and spread it further. It’s finally time.”
            “When should we expect your arrival?”
            “Tomorrow. Hopefully by noon.”
            “Very well. I’ll ensure that you and Felix have rooms prepared along with the others.”
            “I have a few requests for my living arrangements,” Colt cooed.
            “You get the same arrangements as everyone else. The only requests we accept are your menu preferences, which you can send that to Gabriel’s business email. Any other business will wait until you arrive. Now, have yourself a good night and safe trip.”
            Nathalie ended the call before Colt could get another word in. She sighed and rubbed her head. Plagg looked at her and meowed.
            “I’m not going anywhere, liege. Get comfy. I’ll be here all night.”
            Plagg smiled. He stood and kneaded Nathalie’s lap, then curled back up. She placed a hand on his body and begun her work.
~~
            Marinette peered into the room. Luka stood with Juleka, his outfit altered. His usual white Jagged Stone shirt was a black shirt with a red ladybug symbol in the middle. His black jeans and boots remained, but the blue dyed tips of his hair had turned red.
            “I don’t like the red,” Bridgette remarked.
            “I dunno. I think it looks nice,” Marinette whispered.
            “I suppose, just a bit jarring though. Anyway, what do we do?”
            “Wake the others. We have to discuss things moving forward.”
            “Should we wait for Alya?”
            “I’ve no idea where she ran off to or what she’s doing. We could wait, but there’s no telling when she’ll be back.”
            “Fair enough. Alright, I’ll get the others up. You speak to the twins.”
            Bridgette headed to the living room. Marinette sighed and stepped into the room.
            “Bridge went to wake the others. Perhaps it would be best if you two discussed things with the other holders,” Marinette said.
            “Aren’t you one of them? Tikki said all of Jule’s friends,” Luka pointed out.
            “Not all of us. Just those that Juleka spends the most time with. I do spend a fair amount of time with her, but nothing like the others,” Marinette explained.
            “I see. Shall we then?” Luka asked.
            Marinette led them to the living room. The girls were all roused from their sleep as Bridgette sat on the couch. Marinette sat beside Bridgette while Juleka and Luka sat across from them.
            “Woah, Luka. Did you do something different with your… everything?” Alix asked.
            “He’s the holder of the ladybug,” Juleka said.
            Rose, Mylene, and Alix shot up. “What?”
            “I mean, he has a giant ladybug symbol on his shirt. Was that not clue enough?” Bridgette remarked.
            “Does this mean that the games have begun?” Mylene asked.
            “The ladybug is active. Surely, they have,” Alix retorted.
            “What about the black cat?” Rose asked.
            “The black cat is active,” Alya’s voice said.
            Everyone looked around as the area distorted. Their eyes fell on Alya with Zoe Bourgeois and Adrien Agreste beside her.
            Marinette’s eyes widened. “Adrien Agreste?”
            Adrien’s jaw dropped. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”
            Luka tilted his head. “You two know each other?”
            “No. At least, not personally, just reputation. He’s the model for his father’s brand,” Marinette explained.
            “And she’s an internet sensation. Everyone knows her name and face,” Adrien said in awe.
            “And she’s my friend,” Zoe added.
            “What? She’s your friend and you didn’t tell me?” Adrien asked.
            “You never asked. If you asked, I would have told you,” Zoe remarked.
            Marinette looked at Zoe. “What are you doing here? Where is Chloe? Is everything alright?”
            Tears welled in Zoe’s eyes. “Something is happening. I don’t know what, but it has to do with our mother and her friends. They said something about it finally beginning after Kagami found a black cat.”
            “Who’s Kagami?” Marinette asked.
            “The Tsurugi heiress. You know, Tsurugi Industries. The leads in cutting edge technology,” Adrien explained.
            “Do you know what’s going on?” Marinette asked.
            Zoe and Adrien shook their heads.
            “Whispers from a familiar voice as of late and a new voice. They move forward with their plans with Destruction,” Alya whispered.
            “Did they say what plans?”
            “No.”
            Marinette pursed her lips and tapped her fingers.
            “How are you able to hear this, Alya?” Luka asked.
            The girls all exchanged glances. Alya blinked and moved over to Luka.
            “Spots off.”
            “What?”
            “Say, spots off. Take her off.”
            “Oh. Uh, Tikki, spots off?”
            Luka’s outfit reverted and Tikki emerged from the gauges.
            Zoe gasped while Adrien grimaced.
            “What is that thing?” Adrien asked.
            “A kwami,” Mylene answered.
            “What’s a kwami?” Zoe asked.
            “We’re powerful beings that can grant mortals powers. And I’m not the only one. Come on out everyone!” Tikki commanded.
            The air shifted. A teal snake appeared wrapped around Juleka’s shoulders. A white rabbit was laid out on Rose’s pillow. A dragon kwami sat atop Mylene’s head. A purple tiger materialized beside Alix. A white cat appeared on Adrien’s shoulders.
            “What the-? You… you were a kwami thing?” Adrien asked the cat.
            The cat meowed and nodded. It purred and rubbed its chin on Adrien.
            Luka raised a brow as he looked at the kwamis, then at Alya. Nothing appeared around her.
            “Where’s your kwami?” Luka asked.
            “Creation, may I have permission to tell him?” Alya asked.
            Tikki hummed. “You may tell him what you are, but nothing more.”
            “May I show him?”
            “You may.”
            Alya nodded. She turned around as her flannel overshirt vanished. She ruffled her mane of hair, then lifted it up. A large golden mouse tattoo was on the back of her neck.
            “I’m not a holder anymore. I’m an avatar,” Alya said.
            “What’s an avatar?” Luka asked.
            Alya turned to face him and pressed a finger to her lips.
            “Just know that avatars are nothing like holders,” Bridgette remarked.
            “How do you know?” Luka asked.
            Bridgette snorted and stood. Her green sleeveless top morphed into a black crop top. On her stomach was a white turtle tattoo with brown markings on its shell and waves around it. She leaned on Alya and smiled.
            “Ten guesses.”
            Luka blinked. His eyes darted to Marinette, then back to Bridgette and Alya. He wondered if Marinette was an avatar, but he wasn’t going to press the matter.
            “You ask how I hear these things. It is because I’m an avatar. That of perception. Each kwami has their own concept and mine was perception. The voices that cut through the noise are those belonging to other avatars,” Alya explained.
            “How do you know?” Luka asked.
            “Because she can hear avatars. She can hear me just fine, but not Cousin. It’s because we’re… unique,” Bridgette added.
            Luka scrunched up his face in confusion.
            “It’s very confusing, Brother. Try not to dive too deep into it tonight. It’s something that needs to be taken in small bites at a time,” Juleka reassured.
            Luka hummed.
            “So, this is nice and all, but what are you guys going to do?” Adrien asked.
            “What can we do right now?” Mylene asked.
            Everyone exchanged glances, then looked to Luka. Luka blinked and held up his hands.
            “Don’t look to me. I have no idea.”
            Tikki opened her mouth but was cut off by Marinette.
            “We wait. We go about our days until our enemy makes a move. If Alya can hear them, we will have information about their movements, but it would be unwise to go after them since they are avatars. At least until we know which concepts they are.”
            “And those two?” Alix asked, pointing to Adrien and Zoe.
            Marinette looked to Alya.
            “Well, I was hoping I could pawn them off on one of you guys. Maybe let Adrien stay here and Zoe go with one of the girls. They will be disguised, kinda. I’ll be keeping up constant alterations, so the public doesn’t see them as they are. So, there’s that,” Alya explained.
            “Marinette! I want to go with Marinette!” Zoe yelled as she tackled Marinette.
            “That should be fine. Mom and Dad like her. I’m sure they won’t mind,” Marinette said.
            “Mom should be fine with that,” Juleka said.
            “Shouldn’t we ask her?” Luka asked.
            Juleka snickered. “When has she ever had a problem with anything, Brother?”
            “Good point, but still.”
            “Fine. You can ask when she gets home, but he can stay here with the others for the night. It is a sleepover after all,” Juleka mused.
            “So, you’re saying we have two new additions to the group?” Alix asked.
            “Hell yeah! I mean, if you’ll have me,” Zoe cheered.
            Alix grinned. “You all know what that means.”
            Mylene groaned. “Please, no. I just want to-.”
            “Already done! I messaged everyone. They’ll be swinging by to welcome Adrien and Zoe,” Rose cheered.
            Mylene groaned and covered her head with her pillow. Alix jumped up and cheered. Bridgette joined Alix in celebrating. Rose, Marinette, and Alya moved to the kitchen to prepare snacks. Zoe trotted after Marinette while Adrien sat on a barstool near them.
            “I’m going to retire for the night,” Luka said.
            “Sleep well, if you can,” Juleka remarked.
            Luka gave a weak laugh, then headed to his room.
            Tikki blinked and faded into the world between worlds, the unseen realm. The other kwamis followed suit save for Sass, who remained around Juleka’s shoulders.
            “Fluff, it’s time. Send a message to the kwamis on this rock. Tomorrow, the games will begin. Oh, and if you have any requests or ideas for this game, please do let me know. You know I’ll do my best to pull some strings.”
            The kwamis nodded and went about their own ways except the rabbit kwami, Fluff.
            Fluff closed her eyes and sent a message to all kwamis:
            Brothers and sisters, it is time to play a new game. Those who found their way to Earth, find a holder within the city of Paris. With the dawn, our game begins anew.
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protokirby · 9 months
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I was playing pokemon shining pearl and I wanted to use a steelix but realized I couldn't use one because I needed to be able to trade. I have sisters who also play pokemon, but
My twin sister doesn't like playing her switch this time of year because her room gets invaded by ants if she turns it on these months. No clue why. Heck, my room has been getting ant infestations like crazy lately and I've been playing my switch a lot so maybe ants like the way the switch smells when it's on???
My older sister has been becoming more and more like those "nobody hates pokemon more than pokemon fans" memes over the years like she'll buy the games and then complain to me nonstop for some reason about every little thing she hates about the game/spew insults about the pokemon games. The whole 9 yards. and I'm 99.9% sure she doesn't even have brilliant diamond or shining pearl. Also even if she does, I don't want her jealous rant about how I'm able to replay a game as many times as I want without getting bored while she gets bored before one complete playthrough like okay?? It sounds like a living hell to be that uneasily entertained but I don't need to hear about it every few weeks. So she's not an option to trade pokemon with.
As for my younger sister, she'd probably be the best choice but idk. Some days she's nice to be around, other days she'll be carrying around a butcher knife and a bad attitude so I'm scared to approach her to begin with.
But I found something cool while curiously and optimistically going into pokemon home.
I was messing around and discovered I was able to move a growlithe that I caught in pokemon scarlet into previous games. I put it into pokemon shield and looked at its stats and things and when I curiously checked for where it was caught, it said caught in a far away place. I guess it would be obvious it wouldn't say caught in paldea. Dunno what I was expecting XD
Anyhoo
This is really good because if I can do that, I can do other things.
I moved the onix from pokemon shining pearl into legends arceus because there, I can easily just slap a metal coat onto an onix to evolve it without trading and then I was able to move the new steelix back into shining pearl.
I didn't expect this to work at first because of how it was in the 3ds era when if i moved pokemon from x and y or whatever into sun and moon, they could never return to where they came from. Similar to moving mons from gen 3 to gen 4. They would never return to the games they were from. So I'm used to that kind of thing.
Anyway, this is mindblowing to me and extremely good for when I can't trade pokemon with my sisters. Unfortunately can't use this if I want to evolve a trade evolution mon that isn't in legends arceus such as a swirlix but this is still an amazing discovery.
What I hate about pokemon home though is that you need a paid subscription if you want to get mons from the 3ds. I can't afford that all the time so I need to make sure I'm absolutely ready and absolutely ready means I want to catch an entire box worth or more of xurkitree in s/m/us/um before I think it's worth it. Unlike in all the switch games though, I wouldn't be able to move the xurkitrees back but like- I keep wanting to camp with a full team of xurkitrees and have plenty more xurkitrees to have around :D
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chillisreal · 2 years
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(to your stanley parable au) stanley, do you know who this third entity is? The almost ghostly character that tends to follow you around. Not the narrator, I'm sure you have your thoughts on him. The other character that you can see but the narrator never aknowleges. do you even like them? Or tollerate to any capacity? what is thier name or what do you call them?
Oh man I was not expecting an ask that's best suited to answer in character? Meh I can answer it anyways, love me some dialogue making, and some rambling! Hey, fair warning real quick, this post is gonna have quite a few images and be pretty long! O
No, Stanley hasn't the faintest idea of what this thing is, but they've got a level of physical that the Narrator (usually) doesn't, so that's something! (At least..)
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It is a bit confusing at first that the Narrator doesn't seem to know of their presence, or somehow manages to ignore the fact that they're there entirely, though Stanley finds this hard to believe
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He begins to catch a drift on clues as to who this thing might be in certain endings where the Narrator appears to talk directly to the Player? ( To him these endings are changed with the new acknowledgement of the 'player', the real person ending scarred him a good bit too, gotta love having existential crisis! )
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On my view of this au, Stanley is happy with the company and finds their silly antics to be kind of amusing, a newfound curiousity in objects he wouldn't even look twice at. He doesn't really call the player anything though, as he can't talk! Yknow, cuz he's not really able to.
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Though others can put their own little spin on this! This is a very self indulgent, I dunno y/n goes here thing I think? Others can view their in their own perspectives, view the little entity as themselves even if they'd like to!
(This doodle is a joke I'm not trying to make a joke out of the zending (( its made me cry more than once okay I've learned )) )
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Or for those who don't just tag along with me I'll probably be bringing in some doodles as well, I've made a couple comics on paper that I may put on here that add a bit of spice to it? I dunno I hope people like it though!
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(if I get the motivation I'll probably gettin some posts in on some of the more changed things, this is not just a self insert au! There will be changes!! Also, hacker inclusions, the serious table might exist yes but hacks still exist too and are completely different. ((i think)))
(also I know it's you bread >:] )
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missingnoge · 9 months
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Kangidir and Beyond
What good is a demon without a home? Well, it does depend on who you ask as a matter of fact, but whether or not you are a legal home owner, there is still at least one place that you can call home, right?
(Brace yourselves, this is going to be a long one!)
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For Pain and Dave (and a large majority of the characters by extension), that home is Kangidir. A town that is a little east in its region, Molagar (More on it later).
Kangidir is a relatively new settlement compared to the other ones in its region, being the first to develop itself using the Mortal "suburbs" as a baseline, whereas other settlements before it were more like villages, or in Nekropolis's case, a whole dang city.
It was founded in the 20th eon (For reference, PnD currently takes place in the 27th eon, or in Mortal years, 202X) by a group of demons and a Mortal who was a landowner during their life. It was that Mortal who bestowed upon those demons the knowledge of "suburbia". One of those demons, Pauline Doed, would be elected by the group to be Kangidir's first leader; its mayor.
Eons after, Kangidir is still a sprawling town, growing bigger since its initial founding. To its north lay the various suburban homes. Down south, the impoverished gather en masse within Kangdir's less-developed areas. A large concentration of crime, organized or otherwise, pollutes this area but it's also where a majority of its cheaper housing options lie in the form of apartments, a familiar housing type to those hailing from Nekropolis far west. Sandwiched between these housing districts are where a lot of businesses operate.
Kangidir is also known for its massive magma lake up north and its lush green park in its south-west sector, being one of the few rare instances of genuine Mortal grass in Hell. There is also its Library, the Kangidir chapter of the Great Archive, run by no less than Bethany Harbinger. Kangidir is also host to many companies such as Yaku's Convenience, Do'Not Donuts, Pain Trade 'n Co., Traxis R&D, etc..
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The current leader of Kangidir is none other than Mayor Matthew Gremory, a close friend of Pauline Doed. Assisted by his secretary, Ms. Annie Maccus, Gremory does his best to keep order in his town, although he loathes Ms. Doed's decision to name him her successor in the first place when he never truly saw himself as a leader though him and Maccus are another story for another day.
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Molagar: Typical Hell
By extension you have the region of Molagar. Molagar is pretty much the stereotypical "Fire and Brimstone" Hell that we all know and love. However it isn't all rocks and crevices. Towards the north-east is more of what one would expect from Hell with rocky ground, occasional magma pools, and plenty of stone spires, but going south-west in Molagar reveals a more-desert-y subregion. The ground and air become dusty and more yellow, compared to the north-east's clearer maroon.
The most important aspect of Molagar is the Citadel, the great capitol of Hell, proudly standing in the center of Molagar, having been there for countless eons - maybe even since the very beginning of civilization in Hell. It is so tall and massive that it is visible to some degree in every other region in Hell.
I think that's pretty much it when it comes to Kangidir and Molagar. All in all, Kangidir is the town a lot of characters in Pain 'n Dave call home. It's just one of many settlements in Molagar if not Hell as a whole. A lot of characters' opinions of Kangidir can be summed up as "It's nice but there's a lot of room for improvement around here."
Fun Fact: Kangidir came from me misremembering "Kadingir Sanctum," a level from Doom 2016. For a good amount of time, Kangidir was known as "Kangidir Sanctum" before I just dropped it to make it sound more like a generic town name and to distance it from the Doom level. I have no clue where "Molagar" came from. I guess "molar" as in the tooth and "magma"? I dunno...
Alright! That's it for today from me! Happy 4th of July and I'll see you all later for Part 1 of our next Character Showcase!
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bmpmp3 · 3 years
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new favourite genre: media from other countries where one specific middle entry or adaptation was localized in english but with like no context about the rest of the franchise (bonus points if its heavily reliant on prior knowledge of pervious entries)
can’t stop thinking about what it would have been like in 2009 if you were a person who knew nothing about the kill the past series or even suda51 stuff in general and you just like. picked up flower sun and rain from your local gamestop on like. a whim. can you imagine
#luckily killer7 was already out for a few years so at least theres that for...some context#sorta#but fsr...even as a person who still hasnt played the silver case (sorry) it is so very much a direct spin off sequel for the silver case#like its not even just references that flew over my head that entire bit on the boat is incomprehensible#and i mean this is a kill the past game so i mean. i imagine with context its not THAT much more comprehensible#but still i imagine you at least get the vibes if you had played the silver case before lol#but the thing is...it would be like another like 8 years until the silver case would be localized#and thats NUTS to me kjdsjfskdsdfds#imagine having to wait that long to play the prequel to fsr....imagine#(although at the rate im going it might take me that long to start playing it hsjdkkfsvkjdmdsmjfs)#(sorry!!! i got distracted and started playing the jake hunter games)#in other news. i want to watch the otogirisou movie so bad. when will it come to me. when will i hold it in my hands#like i have no clue what to expect and i dunno if its good but it doesnt matter if its good!! i wanna see it!!#i wanna see it and imagine being in 2004 watching a weird movie by the director of ringu having no idea its based off a famicom game#i wonder if it'll be like the channel zero adaptation of candle cove#like weirdly reliant on prior knowledge of the story while also not really having much for fans of the original story hjkfdskdmsafnhvjdks#(thats my favourite season of channel zero. maybe for the wrong reasons)#i remember seeing a lot of reviews of the otogirisou movie seem very...confused. maybe the fact that i know the story of the game#and also that i know its a game at all might help me understand it more lol#i dunno it could be fun!! if only the dvd would ship to me sooner!!! give it to me!!!!!!!!!!!!!#foaming at the mouth waiting for a dvd of an early 2000s japanese horror movie based off a famicom sound novel
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albertasunrise · 2 years
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The Unexpected Gift - Part 4
Masterlist
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Summary: When a baby girl is dropped on Javier Peña's doorstep with a note claiming she's his, he's suddenly thrust into fatherhood. With no clue what to do, he will need all the help he can get if he's not to stumble at the first hurdle.
Relationships: Javier Peña x Reader, Steve Murphy x Connie Murphy
Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to list any warnings. This will be 18+ as chapters progress. If you are triggered by anything to do with babies then read at your own risk. (Bit of a slower chapter but its building to something big I promise)
Series Masterlist- Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
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He wasn't sure why he'd agreed to this dinner. He supposed it was because he'd been told you were going and he wanted a chance to see you but if he'd known Jason would be there, he'd have never agreed.
The two of you were sickly sweet together. He doted over you and you over him, sharing chaste kisses and glances as Steve and Connie beamed about all the latest shenanigans of Olivia and María. You paid special attention to his daughter which at first, he had loved, but as Jason got involved he loved it less so.
Connie could see how uncomfortable Javier was with the situation and she knew right then and there that the agent was smitten with you and you... were completely and utterly oblivious to it. She wondered if she should tell you.
Would you want to know? Would it make a difference if you did?
As she watched you and Jason together, she could see that you were happy, content but she also saw the glances you threw at Javier when he wasn't looking. She could see how you both pined over each other but neither one of you knew how the other felt. You would be good for him, good for María but she worried if Javier would be able to commit to you.
He wasn't known for that.
She decided that if the two of you were meant to be, you'd end up coming together on your own. It wasn't down to her to play matchmaker.
"She's really beautiful Peña." Gushed Jason as he looked up from María to the agent across from him.
"Thank you." Javi replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you with her.
You were bouncing the infant on your knee as he giggled and danced, delighted by the faces you pulled at her. You were a natural with her. Your mothering instinct came out every time you were with her and he yearned to see you with her more but alas, that wasn't to be. You'd been with Jason around three months now and had only seen him and María in passing. You'd missed so much. She was crawling all over the place and now, she was pulling herself up and standing whenever she could.
At ten months old now, she was staring down the barrel of turning one. It was something that Javier had not been prepared for at first but, as it edged ever closer, he found he was looking forward to it a little more.
"So have you decided if you're going to have a party for María?" Connie asked as she cleaned up Olivia, who'd managed to paint herself with tomato sauce.
"I don't know." Javier shrugged "Not like she'll remember it."
"We threw a party for Liv." Steve argued and Javier nodded "Yeah... true. I dunno. I'll think about it."
"You could throw it here. At least she'd have Olivia to play with and we can all enjoy a drink. Celebrate Javier keeping a baby alive." Connie teased, winking at him as he gave her the finger.
"You should do something." You piped up, your voice a little small as you looked over at the older agent "I know I would've if I'd had the chance."
The statement you made stung Javier more than he'd expected. With how little he'd seen of you lately, it had slipped his mind that you'd never gotten the chance to celebrate that milestone with your family.
"Okay." He answered simply after a few moments "We'll throw her a little party."
"Here that, Preciosa?" You whispered against her ear "Papi's going to throw you a party."
María started to clap and screech and the five of you chuckled at that. A comfortable silence fell over you all as you focused on the little ones around the table for a while but when María started to rub her eyes, Javier knew it was time to leave.
'I should get this one home." He said as he picked her up from your lap and held her close as her head dropped to his shoulder "Thanks for having us Con." He said to the blonde as she stood from her chair and hugged him lightly.
"Always a pleasure." She replied, giving him a friendly kiss on the cheek before placing a soft one on the crown of María's head and walking them out.
"We should probably make a move too." You said after a few moments of silence and Jason smiled sweetly at you.
"Sure honey." He replied, giving you a small nod before getting up and putting his hand out to shake Steve's "Thanks for having us." He said firmly.
"Was a pleasure." Steve replied, shaking his hand back and giving him a quick nod "Will have to do this again sometime."
"Definitely." You replied as you gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before turning to Connie "Still on for tomorrow?"
"Definitely." She beamed and "See you at 12."
"Perfect!"
The two of you made your way down the stairs and into your apartment, Jason grabbing two glasses of water for you both like he always did before joining you in the bedroom where you'd stripped down to your underwear. You smiled at him as he entered, feeling bold as you walked over to him and kissed him before he pulled away to hand you your glass.
You placed it down on your side table and got onto the bed, admiring him from where you lay as he stripped down to his boxers before sliding in next to you. You scooted closer to him, pulling him into a kiss that no matter how hard you tried, didn't get any more heated.
"What's gotten into you?" He asked as he pushed you off of him.
"I want you." You moaned, "Got this new set, just for you." You continued as you lay down in the hope he'd admire it a little "Don't you like it?"
"It's okay." He replied with a shrug and all that confidence you'd had disappeared in a puff of smoke "I'm just not in the mood babe."
"Oh." You replied, unable to hide the sadness in your voice as your throat tightened.
You suddenly felt so very exposed and you practically leapt out of the bed, grabbing some clothes to sleep in and choosing to change in the bathroom. You felt so stupid as you pulled off the lacy garments and threw them in the laundry bin before pulling on your sleep shorts and one of your husband's old T-shirts.
Jason was asleep by the time you returned to the bedroom and you climbed back in beside him, laying with your back facing away from him and as far from him as you could. Silently crying yourself to sleep.
...
"So how did Jason like that cheeky little set you got?" Asked Connie as she sipped on her Coffee, a small smirk gracing her lips.
"He didn't" You replied simply and her brows pulled together as your posture changed.
"What do you mean?"
"I dunno... he just..." You paused a moment, trying to keep your composure as you tried to find the words "He wasn't in the mood or whatever." You said after a few moments of contemplation "Tried coming on to him and he full-on rejected me."
"Aw, hun-"
"I'm just not sexy." You interrupted with a shrug "I tried something... It didn't work out. I don't have a beautiful figure like you. Wasn't made to pull off lingerie like that."
"That's bullshit." She argued and you scoffed "Seriously. You're more gorgeous than you give yourself credit for."
"Con... I'm happy enough as I am. I'm just never going to have that passion you and Steve share." You sighed, resigning yourself to the fact you'd never get the things Javier had told you about all those months ago "I just... I wish Jason would look at me the way Steve looks at you."
"What way?" She asked and you sighed.
"Like you're every fruit of his desire." You started "Like the ground, you walk on his sacred."
"You mean the way Javi looks at you?" She said before her eyes widened when she realised what she'd voiced.
"What?" You squeaked "Javier doesn't look at me that way." You argued, scoffing at her as you took a sip of your coffee.
"Hun, he looks at you like you hung the stars." She stated, deciding it was too late to turn back now "And I see the way you look at him."
"I don't look at him," You fended "I'm with Jason! Why would I look at Javier when I'm with a man that actually likes me?"
"He does like you." Connie protested you you snapped.
"I am not his type Connie." You warned "Javier doesn't like me and I don't like him... We're friends." You continued, pausing a moment "Nothing more."
"Okay." Connie conceded, holding her hands up in surrender "Just don't settle for Jason because you feel like you can't do any better... You deserve the best life has to offer."
"Con-"
"You're beautiful... inside and out." She said softly as a kind smile filled her features "Never forget that."
~
2 months later - The day before the party...
Steve and Javier leaned against the wall, flanking the entrance to the house as a few of the search bloc men filtered inside. Peña was practically vibrating as he and Steve followed them in. The music in the lab blared, masking their arrival but it didn't take long for shots to be fired and for the building to erupt into chaos.
Steve and Javier shot anyone that dared to aim at them, moving through the house with practised ease as they checked each room for the man they knew, ran this operation. The two men split up, hoping to clear the rooms faster as Javier took one side of the hall and Steve the other.
"Clear." Steve shouted as he stepped out of the final room on his side of the building, only to jump at the sound of a gunshot "Javi?" He yelled as he sprinted in the direction the sound had come from and gasped as he stepped inside.
Javier was laying on the ground, clutching at his thigh but the man who shot him was nowhere to be seen. Steve wasted no time dropping to his partner's side and shoving his hands out the way so he could assess the damage.
It wasn't good.
"Fuck." He growled as he desperately tried to staunch the bleeding, looking up as Trujillo stepped into the room "We need medical evac now." Steve ordered "Javiers been shot. Think it's knicked an artery."
The other man nodded and sprinted from the room, leaving Steve and his partner alone again. Javier was no longer fighting Steve's hold, he was just laying there as his eyelids started to droop and his breathing became more strained.
"Stay with me brother." Steve pleaded "We're gonna get you out of here soon." He promised.
Javier didn't answer though. He didn't have the strength to. All he could think about was how shit it was that he was going to die the day before his daughter turned one. That he was going to miss her party.
His thoughts drifted to you. To how he'd never get the chance to tell you how he felt. To say goodbye. It pained him more than anything to know that he was leaving María and you without telling you both how much he loved you. That his final moments would be spent with Steve as he tried, in vain, to keep his blood from escaping him.
Then everything went black.
...
"What are you wrapping?" Asked Jason as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.
"María's birthday present for her party tomorrow." You gushed "She's going to love it."
"Of course." He replied, "Forgot, her parties tomorrow isn't it?"
"Yup." You replied with a grin, popping the P "Said to Connie that I'd pop over tomorrow to help her decorate. Just hope Javi likes it."
"I'm sure he will." Jason said sweetly as pecked you on the tip of your nose.
A lot had changed since that dinner. Jason has moved in and you had somewhat moved on from the incident that night. You decided to keep things as they were. He clearly wasn't a man that was interested in spicing things up and you were fine with that.
You'd never really been spicy, to begin with.
Connie and Steve had made the dinner at theirs a monthly thing which had meant you'd seen a little more of María and Javier. You'd tried to see what Connie had meant by saying the way Javier looked at you a particular way but you never caught him staring. So you brushed it off and focused on the real world.
"Did they want us to bring anything?" He asked, pulling you from your thoughts.
"No." You answered plainly "But I got Javi a bottle of his favourite whiskey and a bottle of wine for Connie."
"How do you know what his favourite whiskey is?" Jason asked his tone a little accusing.
"He's my friend." You argued, "We used to hang out a lot before you and I got together." You confessed, "He was struggling a little with María and I helped him out a bit."
"Right," Jason answered and you internally scoffed, not interested in his sudden change of attitude towards your relationship with the agent.
"How come you don't 'hang out with him' now? Surely he still struggles with her." Jason pushed and you groaned.
"Well, I started dating you." You snapped "That's why." You growled "I chose you over-"
You stopped in your tracks as it suddenly dawned on you that you'd basically given up on him and María because Jason had asked you out. You'd ditched your friendship for a guy and you suddenly felt intensely guilty.
"Anyway... I thought I should get him something. It's been a tough time for him."
"Very thoughtful of you babe." Said Jason, changing his tone to one that was more friendly "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."
You hoped so too.
As you finished wrapping the present and placed it in the bag along with the liquor, you hoped it might be an olive branch. A chance to start anew and to be a better friend to him from now on.
The following afternoon, you awkwardly knocked on the Murphy's door as you desperately tried to keep hold of all the decorations you had in your hands. You were confused, however, when the door opened to reveal Claire, the babysitter you'd recommended to Javier all those months ago.
"Where's Connie?" You asked, brows drawing together in confusion.
"She's at the hospital with Steve." She answered and your heart started to race
"Are they okay?" You asked, noting the sombre expression on Clair's face "What happened."
"Steve and Javier we involved in a raid yesterday and... Well, Javi got shot."
Everything in your hands fell to the floor.
"What?" You choked, your voice barely above a whisper "Is he?"
"He's stable but critical." She answered "I guess Connie didn't get a chance to call you yet. She grabbed me from Javi's and asked me to take care of Olivia too and then she was gone."
"I need to get to the hospital." You sobbed, eyes locked on the bottle of whiskey that had slipped from the bag "Can you put all this in there? I need to go." You said a few moments later, sprinting down the hall and to the parking level below.
You drove as if your life depended on it, screaming as fast as you could to the hospital before haphazardly throwing your truck into a spot and sprinting inside. You were directed on where to go and then jogged through the halls, desperately searching out his room number before stumbling on it at last.
You barged in, gasping at the sight of Javier laying there, white as a sheet and hooked up to a multitude of machines. Connie and Steve looked up in shock before Connie practically ran into your arms and sobbed into the crook of your neck.
"Sorry I forgot to call." She choked "It all happened so fast and I-"
"It's okay Con." You hushed as you held her tight "I'm here now."
You held her a while before the blonde finally pulled herself from your grasp and made her way back to where she was sitting when you arrived, her tired eyes fixed on Javier.
"What happened?" You sobbed and Steve sighed.
"Got taken by surprise." Steve started, resting a friendly hand on Javi's shin "Fucker shot him in the groin. Knicked the artery. He coded as we arrived and almost didn't make it through the surgery. He's lost a lot of blood, the bullet did a lot of damage but he's strong." Steve said with a surety "He's too stubborn to go out like this."
"He'll be off his feet a while." Connie stated, "The surgery was tricky so he'll need to keep off his feet in order for it all to heal properly."
"I can stay with him." You suggested, "When he gets out."
"What about Jason?" Connie asked and you shrugged.
"He'll understand." You replied, "I think I need to do this."
"What makes you say that?" Steve asked and you sighed.
"I ditched him." You answered plainly "I ditched him as soon as a guy paid me any sort of attention. I missed out on all this stuff with him and María and I feel terrible. What kind of friend does that make me?"
"We all make mistakes hun." Connie said as she tried to reassure you "He never held it against you."
"Well, he should have." You sobbed "I was a terrible friend and I aim to make it up to him." You stated as you took his hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of his hand.
Your eyes softened as you took him in. He looked so frail underneath all the hospital garb and your heart broke to see him this way.
"I'm so sorry Javi." You choked as you brought his hand to your cheek "Please forgive me." You paused a moment to push some of his unruly hair back, feeling your tears building past the point of no return
"I'm going to make it up to you and María... I promise."
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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years
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A Genuine Mess - Atsumu x f!reader
Pairing: Atsumu x f!reader
Summary: Atsumu insults you, the quietest girl in his class. But as he gets to know you, your few words often leave him blushing.
Genre, etc.: Tooth rotting fluff, Atsumu is a dork in love but still consistent with his canon character, reader is quiet but not timid
Warnings: none
Author's Notes: I wanted to try a different personality for the reader as well as taking one of Atsumu's negative character traits and flipping it on its head :) This was fun to write. Hehehe.
Words: 1.9k
*****
"What? She's here for me?" said Atsumu. He pressed his lips together to hide the smile forming on his lips. As he attempted to walk to the gym doors as normally as possible, Aran tilted his head while Osamu wore an amusing smirk.
Atsumu leaned on the frame of the gym doors. "What'd ya want?" he asked you, trying to be as smooth as possible. His voice didn't reveal his usual arrogance and was unexpectedly gentle.
"Could I see your hand?" you asked him with a quiet but direct tone.
When he held his hand out in front of you, you delicately turned it over, palm faced down, and positioned his fingers one by one. You didn't notice him gripping the side of his jersey in his other hand, trying to keep it together every time your fingers grazed his skin. You let go of his hand to pull out your phone and angled it to get a good shot of his hand.
Click.
"Thank you Atsumu-san," you told him, putting your phone away and leaving the gym.
Atsumu returned to the court, not even able to hide the childish grin from his teammates anymore. Some widened their eyes and others dropped their jaws as they witnessed the entire scene.
"So when did you start liking her?" Suna asked him.
"I don't like her," Atsumu adamantly responded.
A laugh escaped Osamu's lips and Atsumu told him to shut up. He hated that his twin knew exactly why he was acting like this.
*****
"Well that looks ugly."
Seated at your desk, you looked up from your sketch to see Atsumu's scrunched up nose. It didn't take long for it to disappear. Osamu whacked him on the head for insulting the quietest girl in class two and quite possibly their whole year.
"Sorry about this jerk," Osamu told you. "He doesn't have a filter."
But when he started to drag Atsumu away from you, they heard the rare sound of your voice.
"Miya-san," you said.
They both turned around but after looking at each other, they assumed you were referring to your classmate Atsumu.
"Why does it look ugly?"
"Ha?" Atsumu gawked at you. He scratched the back of his head. "I dunno. The shoulders just looked gross"–he got whacked on the head again–"Hey!" He glared at Osamu.
After they bickered for a bit, they turned their attention back to you, but you were already facing your desk, immersed in your sketch. Osamu raised an eyebrow at Atsumu, expecting him to know what that was all about, but he only shrugged his shoulders, not having a clue either.
The next time Atsumu heard your voice was when you came to see him at his desk.
"Ha? What's this?" he asked.
In front of him, you had placed another sketch. You didn't say a word but looked at him as if you were expecting some sort of comment.
Atsumu raised an eyebrow but looked at the sketch anyway.
"What's wrong with this dude's hand?" he asked as he squinted at the drawing, holding your sketchbook up to his eyes. "It looks like it's dislocated or something."
The classmate beside him shot his eyes open. He then looked up at you to see your reaction.
"Thank you," you told Atsumu with a little nod before returning to your desk. Those were the only words you had for Atsumu and they had left him and his classmate speechless.
Atsumu's eyes lit up the third time you came to his desk.
"Which one looks the worst?" you asked him, showing him three different sketches.
"This one," he said, pointing to the one in the middle. "There's no way a person could have hair like that."
You ignored his comment and asked him again which one looked worse. He still chose the middle one, saying the expression reminded him too much of his brother.
You gave him a nod as thanks and as he watched you return to your desk, there was a small uptick at the corner of his mouth, gazing at you gathering your pencils together and continuing your progress.
Over the next couple of weeks, he watched you from afar as you drew doodles during class when you should've been paying attention. He wondered if he should actually write notes from the lesson in case you needed them. Maybe he'd pass them to you the next time you showed him your artwork.
But you hadn't made a trip to his desk during the next two weeks. Why did you stop coming? So when you left the classroom, he quickly opened the sketchbook that was left on your desk and went through it page by page, curious to see what you'd been drawing this whole time. As he flipped through the pages, he saw how your drawings had gradually improved. He couldn't help but smile at your growth as an artist.
"Miya-san."
He jumped at your voice and snapped the book shut. He fumbled over his words. "I wasn't looking! It just fell and I picked it up from the ground!" he told you. "When I put it back on yer desk it just happened t' be like that!"
He then saw an expression he had never seen on your face. Your brows were furrowed and your lips turned into a frown. You let out a deep breath. "Miya-san, you're free to look through my sketchbook, but please don't lie to me."
His eyes widened before he lowered them to stare at the classroom floor. Shoulders sagging, he told you in a hushed voice, "I'm sorry." He sighed and dragged his feet back towards his desk. But just when he was about to pull out his chair, he heard your soft voice.
"Miya-san," you said, looking directly at him when he turned to you. "Like I said, you can come and look at it whenever you want."
Atsumu pressed his lips together, trying to hold back a stupid grin on his face. But his eyes betrayed his attempt as they crinkled and turned into crescents, elated at your offer.
*****
Over the next several weeks, Atsumu used any excuse he could to chat with you at your desk before he finally settled on talking to you about anything and everything. He tried to get to know you, asking you questions, but your answers were short and simple, not knowing how else to respond.
However, Atsumu shamelessly continued to talk about himself, his brother, the team, and whatever else was on his mind that day. You always nodded and listened with a smile.
"I think she's just being nice to you," commented Osamu.
"She's never stopped me," Atsumu replied with a huff, crossing his arms, which only resulted in Osamu shaking his head.
Without looking up from your sketch, you told him, "I like hearing him talk."
Osamu's eyes grew at your response but when he glanced over at his twin, Atsumu's ears and cheeks had turned red.
"Oh?" the silver haired twin said with a sly grin. "You're blushing 'Tsumu."
"No I'm not!" Atsumu said after clearing his throat and turning his head away. Osamu was about to tease him when instead, you said something that deepened his blush.
"It's cute."
Osamu's jaw dropped. Atsumu froze at your comment before deciding to put his face down on your desk, burying it into his arms.
As you and Atsumu got to know each other, he learned that you were still close with your friends from middle school. They were there for you, always supporting you and your passion for art. But when you asked them what they thought about your drawings, they had always said they looked good. You were grateful for them but you couldn't tell if they were just being nice.
"So is that why you asked me about yer drawings?" Atsumu noted. You confirmed it with a nod and he looked at you with longing eyes and a soft smile.
You caught him off-guard when you took a photo of him. "Your expression was interesting just now," you told him. "I want to use it as reference."
Atsumu blushed and covered the lower half of his face. He muttered something through his hands that you didn't quite catch.
"Hm?" you asked.
"Y-you can use me as reference any time."
You took him up on his offer. You'd often snap pictures of him, casually pulling out your phone when you'd find an interesting expression on his face. You even came to see him at practice when you wanted to practice drawing some hands. He often wondered what you noticed about him when you used him as reference, what expressions you saw in him.
One day after classes had ended and volleyball practice was cancelled, he sat at the other side of your desk as you switched to a different drawing pencil from your set. What did you see when you looked at him? His eyes? His nose? His lips?
His hand rose next to your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. When you looked up at him from your drawing, he pulled his hand back, suddenly realizing what he was doing.
He bit his lip, scolding himself for doing that to you. You called his name and his attention was back on you.
"Why did you stop?" you asked.
Butterflies were fluttering in his stomach, not at all expecting those words. Looking at you through his eyelashes, he saw you directly looking back at him. Were you serious?
Somehow getting the courage to make a move, he drew his hand toward you and gently cupped your cheek. He bent over your desk and brought his lips near yours, stopping midway as if waiting for permission to follow through. You leaned in a little closer and he closed the gap, feeling your soft lips against his.
Pulling back, his eyes studied your face for some sort of reaction. He bit his lip, doubting if that was what you wanted. Perhaps he didn't do a good job or you had changed your mind after the kiss.
What if you were just doing this for reference?
He searched your eyes for an answer, not knowing that you saw the insecurity in his.
"I liked it, Atsumu."
His eyes grew. He was both delighted and flustered, not believing that he got to kiss you, that you'd accept a kiss from someone like him. He hugged you and placed a kiss on your forehead, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close.
*****
"Guys! I have a girlfriend!" Atsumu declared, storming into the gym the next day. They all raised their brows when they saw who was holding his hand.
"Are you serious?" asked Aran.
"It's probably fake," Suna commented.
"He must have bribed her or something," Osamu added.
"All of ya just shut up!" Atsumu yelled at them as they all gave him a skeptical look. He sighed and dropped his shoulders as he held your hand.
They snickered and teased him, but when there was a silent pause in the air, they heard your voice for the first time.
"I like him," you told his team. Your voice was quiet but they heard every word. They freaked out, gawking at the two of you, an unlikely pair.
Atsumu turned his face away because his cheeks went red again. Your words, more often than not, caused him to be up in a fluster.
*****
I hope you enjoyed it.
I couldn't help but have Suna say it was fake for all my "A Glimpse of Yellow" readers. lolll.
If you liked this one, you might like one of these:
1) my Tendou one-shot (timid!reader)
2) my Sakusa one-shot (where he gets a crush on exchange student!reader)
3) my Kyoutani one-shot (another unexpected pairing)
And I want to shamelessly throw in my Suna chaptered fic (fake dating) just because it's my current series. lol.
I also have a Google form for my taglist if any of you are interested in it.
702 notes · View notes
babybluebex · 3 years
Text
buggy code [bucky barnes x reader]
➽ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.1k ➽ summary: everyone on the team has nicknames, and you wonder why bucky doesn’t like the one you gave him.   ➽ warnings: mentions of injuries, insecure bucky ➽ a/n: enjoy!​
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Everybody had a special name for the Winter Soldier. For mostly everyone, he was Bucky. It fit him; short and curt, the hard K sound in the middle demanding attention. Bucky didn’t quite care for any other name. He had lived his entire life being called Bucky and, even after waking up in a different world than the one he left, he didn’t think a name change was in order. Nobody did. 
And then I came along. The nicknames started as a joke between me and Thor when I couldn’t pronounce his hammer’s name right (in my defense, the name starts with M-J-O and only gets worse from there). Jokingly, one day, I called it Mojo, and Thor laughed. I don’t think that Y/N is a particularly hard name, but Thor found a way to butcher it every single time he spoke to me. The joke bled out from Thor and me and into me and Tony, which then led to the whole team having their own name for me. Wanda called me “ducky”; Steve called me “little one”; Thor used every nickname for Y/N that he could find (which was different every day, but the theme was consistent); and Tony called me “kiddo”. 
However, once the nickname precedent was set, nobody bothered to tell me about the Bucky situation. He was nice, albeit cold at times, and I had only seen him truly angry once. I had called him James. He got quiet and I saw a muscle in his jaw jump as he clenched his teeth, and he said, “Don’t ever call me that again. You hear me? Ever.” He absconded from the room quickly, leaving me and Steve alone, and my heart sank. I felt like an absolute shitbag for upsetting Bucky like that. Steve sat down next to me quietly. Steve was one of those quiet and understanding types, and he cast a glance at the door that Bucky had stormed out of. 
“That was… Odd,” Steve said. 
“You mean you don’t know what that was about?” I asked. 
“No,” Steve said. His brow furrowed, and he mumbled, “No clue.”
“Should I apologize?” I asked. 
“For what?” Steve asked, turning back to me. “You did nothing wrong.” 
“I still upset him, even if I didn’t mean to,” I shrugged. “I… I dunno. I feel like I should.” 
“If you want to,” Steve said. “He’ll probably get mad at you for trying to apologize.”
I scoffed. “What’s new? Bucky’s mad at everyone, all the time. I just… He never snapped at me like that before.” 
“Don’t take it to heart,” Steve told me, and his icy blue eyes helped convince me. 
The door to Bucky’s room was closed like always, but even the energy that came from it made me uneasy. It was quiet-- again, not abnormal-- but it frightened me. I hated saying sorry; according to some, it was one of my major character flaws. I felt sick to my stomach as I knocked on the door. Would he even answer? I felt the burning of tears in my eyes, and I pawed them away with the sleeve of my sweater just in time for the door to swing open. My breath caught in my throat once confronted by the White Wolf, and I could barely stutter out, “I… F-Fuck, I’m so sorry, Bucky.” 
His jaw was tight, his eyes unwavering. I couldn’t stand when he did that. I understand where the whole “no emotion” thing came from, but it was infuriating sometimes. This wasn’t Russia. I wasn’t Hydra. Finally, Bucky took a deep breath, and his demeanor loosened up. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t be… S’not your fault.” 
“I still feel like an asshole,” I mumbled. “I was just joking around--”
“The way you do with Thor and Stark and all of them, I know,” Bucky interjected. “But you didn’t…” He paused to sigh, and he brushed his hair behind his ear. “You did nothing wrong, sweetheart.”  
Sweetheart was new. Bucky didn’t play the nickname game like the rest of us did, as evident earlier. He called Steve brother every so often, usually whilst roughhousing after a mission, but sweetheart was something that he had never called me before. He must have seen how I bristled slightly, because he said, “Oh, so Wilson can call you sweetheart just fine, but I can’t?” 
“That’s different,” I replied quickly. 
“How?” Bucky countered instantly. He looked like he was only in his thirties, but he had the arguing skills of someone his own age. Fuck, he annoyed me. “How is Wilson any different from me?” 
“That’s not--” I began. “Wilson always calls me that. You don’t call me… Anything.”
Bucky hummed quietly. “So, you’re telling me that, as long as I don’t call you what Wilson calls you, you’ll tolerate the nicknames?” 
“That’s not what I meant, Bucky,” I said. “I meant that you never, ever had a nickname for me.” 
“Maybe we should change that,” Bucky said, and his lips quirked into a smile. “We have a long night ahead of us. You should go try to get some rest… Baby.” With a cheeky wink and a smile, Bucky closed the door in my face. 
Bastard. 
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Bucky was right. The night was long and ended with more of us limping back to the Compound than walking normally. Bucky and Steve took care of each other when they got banged up in a fight, and, as the youngest (really, second youngest to Peter, but he never normally came on smaller missions like this), Steve usually took it upon himself to take care of me too. My shoulder was killing me in a way that it never had before, and I wasn’t sure that it wasn’t dislocated in some fashion. I sat on the couch in the common area, nursing my arm and trying to ignore the pain enough to gauge if I was tired enough to attempt sleep, and I expected the sudden presence behind me to be that of the super soldier. “Hey, big guy,” I chuckled. “Can you check out my shoulder?” 
A cold hand landed on my bare skin, and I jumped in shock. Vibranium was less than fun to experience when unprepared. I had identified a super soldier, yes, but the wrong one. “Looks swollen,” Bucky observed. 
“No shit,” I mumbled. “You scared me; thought you were Steve.” 
“Sorry,” Bucky said easily. “Yeah… I’m no medical expert, but, based on how swollen and red it is, I’d say you fucked your shoulder up pretty good.”
“Gee, really?” I said and rolled my neck to pop it. “Thanks for your input, Dr. Barnes. Can I get a second opinion?” 
“Woah, hostile,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m sure Strange can fix that up for you, baby.” 
I nodded in agreement, choosing to ignore the nickname. If I ignored it, it would go away… Right? Bucky noticed, though, and he said, “What? Not into that name? Okay, I’ll come up with something else.” 
“Or don’t,” I shrugged absentmindedly, and I hissed in a breath as my shoulder exploded with pain. Definitely dislocated. “Fuck.” 
“Oh, jeez,” Bucky mumbled, and he moved around in front of me. He lowered himself to my height where I sat, settling himself on one knee, and his warm hand landed gently on my arm. “I learned about this a long time ago… I think I remember how to put it back into the socket.” 
 “I’m sorry, but fuck that,” I laughed. “I’ll get Strange to do it.” 
“If I mess you up even more, I give you permission to yell at me,” Bucky said. “Let me try. Yeah?” 
I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Fine,” I acquiesced. 
Bucky shuffled himself closer to me, putting gentle but firm hands on my upper arm. He sat there for a moment, something happening in his brain, before saying, “C’mere, you.” His hands fell down to my waist, and he carefully tugged me further to the edge of the couch to allow himself closer to me. Something bloomed in my stomach when he grabbed my waist like that, but I pushed it aside. This was neither the time nor place to get horny. He replaced his hands on my arm, and the tip of his tongue poked out of his lips as he carefully maneuvered my arm, testing its mobility. He noticed my winces of my pain, and he finally mumbled, “Alright. On three, I’m gonna tug your arm this way. There’ll be a pop and it’ll hurt, but it should be back in place. Alright?” 
“Yeah,” I said. I felt like I would pass out from the pain. “Hurry it up.” 
Bucky nodded, and his vibranium hand carefully squeezed my thigh. “Grab my hand if you need to,” he said. “Alright… One--” 
He tugged my arm sharply away from my body, and there was a sickening pop. I cried out in a mixture of shock and pain, and then a tepid anger. “You said three, you shitbag!” I groaned. “What happened to two and three?” 
“Must’ve miscounted,” Bucky said, smiling and chuckling. “Feel any better?” 
I rolled my shoulder hesitantly, but found there to be virtually no pain. There was an ache, sure, and maybe a torn muscle, but the joint seemed to be back where it belonged. “Yeah,” I said. “A lot, actually. Thanks.” 
“No sweat,” Bucky said. He smiled and chuckled, then added, “You said my name when you yelled.” 
I tried to recall only seconds earlier, but the moment was a blur. “Did I?” I ask. That was embarrassing. 
Bucky nodded. “You called out ‘James’,” he told me. 
My eyes widened, and my heart jumped into my throat. “Oh, fuck,” I mumbled. “Oh, shit. Bucky, I’m really sorry.”
“No, no,” Bucky said. “It’s fine. Don’t stress. I actually don’t mind it.” 
“Mind what?” I asked. 
“Being called James,” Bucky said. “It’s been a while since I was called anything but Bucky or the Winter Soldier or… James’s nice. Short and sweet and… Nice.” 
“Why did you…” I began, and I pressed my fingers into my palm. “Why did you get so angry when I called you that earlier?” 
Bucky sighed. It was a heavy sigh, the sigh of 90 years worth of emotions threatening to be released. “I… I don’t know,” he said finally. “I really have no idea. I guess because it was different. It was like my old life. You were trying to be nice and funny, and nobody…” He swallowed thickly, and his gaze dropped from mine. “Everybody still sees me as the Winter Soldier. Like, they think I’ll break at any minute, and Bucky will be gone. Nat and Wilson and Steve can tell you all about dealing with him, if you want to know about it. But you don’t see me like that. You see me as someone kind; even before the war, I was never really the kind type. You see me as someone different than what everybody here-- everybody, period-- sees me as. You don’t see me as Bucky or Sergeant Barnes or whoever. You see me as--”
“James.” I whispered. 
“I’m not used to people like you,” Bucky continued. “I… I think I was confused. And I get mad when I’m confused. I’ve always done that. I didn’t--”
“James,” I repeated, firmer and louder. I wasn’t testing the name. I was addressing him. My hand went to his face, resting gently under his jaw, and I tilted his head up to look at me. “Don’t. I understand.” 
Bucky gave me a small smile, the most he could muster when he wasn’t telling a god-awful joke, but he didn’t try to remove my hand. His eyes, as blue as the sky on a clear day, were watching me. Not watching; I had seen him watch someone. There was something more in his gaze that I couldn’t quite identify, and it scared the shit out of me. It was friendly, I could sense that, and I had a suspicion on what it was, but I didn’t want to know for sure. Eventually, I took a deep breath, and I took my hand off of his face. “You should get some sleep,” I told him. “You need it.” 
“Right,” Bucky nodded. “You do too. Come get me if that shoulder starts bothering you; I’ll see what I can do.” 
“Sure,” I agreed. “‘Night, James.” 
There was a silence before the super soldier responded to me. “‘Night, bug.” 
“Bug?” I scoffed. 
Bucky shrugged. “Just trying something out.”
I nodded and kept my place on the couch as Bucky worked himself to his feet, and he left the room quietly. I watched him leave and I pressed my palms into my knees before I started to stand. However, my endeavor was interrupted by Steve hitting his knuckles against the doorframe. He certainly had heard our conversation. His arms were crossed and he was giving me a strange look, and I huffed in frustration. “What do you want, Rogers?”
“Buck had a girlfriend he left behind when we went to war,” Steve began. “Always talked about wanting to marry her when he got back.” 
“And?”
Steve smiled. “She used to call him James. Never Bucky; James. I’m sure that’s why he got mad.” 
“Oh,” I mumbled lowley. “I had no idea.” 
“I didn’t either, until recently,” Steve said. “But guess what? He called her ‘ladybug’. ‘Bug’ for short.” 
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As much as I hated to admit it, I needed help. I tossed and turned in bed for hours, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in that didn’t aggravate my shoulder too much, but, just as I was always about to drift to sleep, a spasm of pain woke me up. I had taken painkillers hours before and I was tempted to take more-- the kind that brought sleep this time-- but I remembered what Bucky had told me. Come get him if I needed help. I truly didn’t want to take him up on that offer, but I was sure that he was awake. I probably wouldn’t be bothering him. I hoped not. 
I zipped up my hoodie as I carefully maneuvered through the Compound, trying to move quietly. Years of training under Nat’s tutelage had taught me how to be as silent as a ghost, but I was always worried that I would fuck up somehow. We were safe, though, and I had no reason to be on high alert. Finally, I wound up in front of Bucky’s door, and I saw the door cracked open. Bucky was the sort of guy that valued privacy, and he always had his door closed unless he wasn’t in the room. 
“Oh.” A voice rumbled from behind me, and I turned to see Bucky. His hair was rumpled, his eyes tired and hooded. He wore sweatpants and a thin white shirt, the bulge of his dog tags visible under the collar. I heard the soft whirring of his arm in the silence of the hall, and he added, “There you are. You weren’t in your room.” 
“Were you looking for me?” I asked. 
“I was going to see how your shoulder was,” Bucky explained. “It’s been bothering me all night.”
“Been bothering you?” I repeated and stifled a laugh. “It’s been hell for me. I can’t sleep at all.” 
“You took meds?” Bucky asked, and I nodded. He moved closer to me, and he added, “Drank some water? You might be dehydrated.” 
“I’m fine, James,” I mumbled. “I just figured that you would be up too. My head’s still buzzing from tonight. Even without the shoulder, I don’t think I could sleep.” 
I didn’t even realize that I had called him James. It felt natural now. “Well, I am awake,” Bucky chuckled. “I’m not gonna sleep tonight either. We’re about an hour from sunrise anyway; that’s sorta a foregone thing now, huh?” 
I nodded. Bucky’s eyes canvased me, sticking to my shoulder and arm, and he mumbled, “Your one arm’s limp. Is it just your shoulder or your whole arm now?” 
I looked at my arm, hanging at my side as my other was in my pocket. I could feel the shooting pain every time I moved it, but, when it was still, it was a dull throb of sorts. I relayed this to Bucky, and the wrinkles in his forehead grew deeper as he listened. He wordlessly took my uninjured arm in his warm grip and tugged me into his room. A single lamp was on, the curtains drawn and the bed made impeccably, as if he had never even touched it. I’m sure the tidiness was a result of his military training; Steve and Wilson were the same way. “I read something,” Bucky began. “About skin-to-skin contact. How it helps relieve pain and improve heart and lung function.”
I scoffed as I sat on the corner of his bed. “Yeah, for newborn babies,” I told him. 
Bucky sighed jokingly. “Do you want my help or not, bug?” 
Bug. Ladybug. “I didn’t really come for help,” I said. “Just company.” 
“Just company,” Bucky repeated under his breath as he sat down next to me. “I can do that.” 
“Can you?” I asked with a smirk. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not totally inept, Y/N,” Bucky said. “I can make conversation.”
“I know,” I sighed lightly. “Just teasing you.” 
“You tease me so much that one would think that you don’t actually like me,” Bucky said. 
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I like you,” I said. “Sometimes, I don’t think you like me.” 
“Yeah, don’t take it personal,” Bucky said softly. “I sorta turn a lot of people off. The whole murderous, brainwashed soldier thing tends to do that.” 
“That’s a shame,” I said. “You’re actually a pretty cool person.” 
“Even when I’m killing people?” Bucky asked with a chuckle. 
“Especially then,” I said, playfully pushing his shoulder. “Not too many girls are into that, but I’m in the same business, so I like it.” 
“Into it?” Bucky repeated with a smile. “Like… In what way?” 
“I think it’s cool,” I said. I knew what he was pushing for, and I guess that I was giving off that impression, coming into his room in the early morning for “company”. I had meant it in earnest, but, now that I thought about it, it certainly sounded like I had come to fuck him. “Not the whole… Being tortured, but… I admire that you’ve turned this into something that can help people.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Bucky said. “To help people…” 
I saw his humor deflating. There was more he wanted to say, far more. If I knew Bucky, though, he was fit to clam up, and the conversation was about over. “You are helping people, Buck,” I offered. “Keeping them safe, protecting them…” 
“Protection can only get you so far,” Bucky said, standing up and rolling his neck. “Y/N, when you’re like me, you’re never sure if you’re really helping. People tell me that I am, but I’ll never be certain. It’s a fucking curse, one that I haven’t turned it into anything good.” He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. 
“Well,” I began softly, standing up. I joined Bucky at the window and carefully took his hand, and I examined the metallic knuckles and the different slants of vibranium that made up each finger. I thought he would pull his hand away, tell me to stop, but his hand only whirred quietly and closed around mine. “Let me be the one to tell you that you are helping people. Like tonight, not only did you take down all of those goons, but you helped me.” 
“What help did I do?” Bucky scoffed. 
“I mean, it’s not fully healed, but you made my shoulder better,” I said. “Bucky--” I reached up for his face and pressed my hand to his rough cheek, and I forced his head down. His steel-blue eyes met mine, and I took a deep breath. “You are good. You are a good man and I will do whatever you need me to in order for you to believe that.” 
Bucky was quiet for a few long moments, then he finally whispered, “You don’t need to do anything.” 
“So you believe me?” I asked. 
“I didn’t say that,” Bucky whispered. “You don’t want to help me.” 
“Why not?” I huffed, dropping my hand. “Do you think you’re too far gone?”
“I don’t think it,” Bucky said. “I know it.” 
“James,” I said, my emotions biting through my words. My eyes stung and my throat was tight, and I knew that I was seconds away from crying. “You are not too far gone. You know how I know?” I surged closer to him and put my hand flat on his chest to feel his heartbeat, and I said, “You’re alive. As long as you’re alive, you can get better. Stop being stubborn--”
“I’m stubborn?” Bucky laughed. “You’re so convinced that you can fix me that you won’t take no for an answer.” 
“I don’t want to fix you,” I said quickly. “I want you to know that-- Fuck. Look at me, you prick.” Bucky fixed his eyes on my face, and I put my palms on his cheeks. He couldn’t look away. “James Buchanan Barnes, you are a good man. You help people. You are magnificent. I know it, everyone here knows it, and I will not rest until you see yourself the way I see you.”
The air between us was tense, and Bucky lifted a hand up to his face. He enveloped my small hand with his, his warm fingers carefully brushing mine, almost like he couldn’t believe that someone was holding his face so tenderly. He lowered his eyes, then lifted them back up to meet me, and he dropped his hands. 
With that, his entire body language changed. The wrinkles in his forehead disappeared, his shoulders fell, and he let out a heavy breath. His bottom lip fell open as he looked at me, and I whispered, “Do you feel better?” 
He nodded slowly, a lock of dark hair falling into his eyes. “I like the way you say my name,” he told me. I gently pushed the hair from his face to behind his ear, and he swallowed thickly. “Say it again. Please?” 
“James,” I said softly. “Buchanan. Barnes.” I took a deep breath, and I quietly laughed, “Bucky Barnes. You are the greatest man I’ve ever met.” 
Bucky put his hands on my waist and pulled me flush against my body, and he hugged me tightly. His mouth buried into my shoulder, and he held me for what felt like hours. He needed it. My tears finally fell, and I sniffled as I wrapped my arms around his muscled body in order to squeeze him tightly. “Are you crying?” Bucky whispered, his lips hitting my shoulder as he spoke. 
“I just…” I began. “I love you, James.” 
I didn’t know what to expect when I finally confessed to Bucky what I had tried to deny, but he stayed still. He barely had a reaction, unless you count a sigh as a reaction. Finally, just as I thought my anxiety would burn a hole through my stomach, his hands fell down my body, skating just above my hips and down to the backs of my thighs. With the strength of a thousand men, he pulled me up into him, wrapping my legs around his waist, and he pulled his face out of my shoulder to let me see his pink cheeks and radiant eyes. He said nothing as his lips pressed against mine, and I instantly kissed back. My Bucky, my soldier, my love, my James. The world felt right. 
“I love you too,” Bucky whispered. “Y/N.”
“Did you really…” I started. “Do you call me ‘bug’ because… Because of ladybug?” 
Bucky tilted his head as a soft smile came over his pink lips. “Did Steve tell you that?” He asked. I nodded, and he gave a little laugh that rumbled in his broad chest. He carried me to the bed and set me down carefully, and he laid down next to me. My head easily laid on his chest and his strong arm went around my body, holding me close to him. There wasn’t even an inch of space between us, but I loved it. “Yes and no. I got the idea from that, but it means something different. That girl back then, her name was Dot, so ladybug made sense… But you’re a different kind of bug. You’re a bug in the sense that you’re not supposed to be here.” He carefully tapped his forehead, and he closed his eyes as my finger replaced his. “You’re a bug in my code. I didn’t want to fall in love after everything I’ve done, but… Fuck, you managed to get in there.” 
“Glad I did,” I whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead. “My James.” 
“I’m glad you did too,” Bucky whispered. “My little bug.” 
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be11atrixthestrange · 3 years
Text
The Luckiest (19 Years Later)
I wrote this as an epilogue to my multichapter fic, Completely Mental, but it works as a standalone drabble too. So here it is! I just love these boys (men!), and I love their friendship.  #HarryAndRonBrotp
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19 Years Later
The soft autumn sun smiled down on the Burrow’s grounds, its reflection illuminating the windows like a lighthouse. A crisp breeze whistled through the garden, bringing with it a hint of cooler days to come. Inside, the smell of dinner sizzling on the stove, butterbeer bottles clinking, children playing, and adults laughing filled the room, but it was still too quiet for Harry’s liking.
Harry always loved September. Growing up, September marked the transition from 4 Privet Drive to Hogwarts, and it came with a sweeping feeling of relief knowing he’d finally be able to see his friends again. Every year, his anticipation for September would grow stronger and start sooner, until summer eventually became something to endure rather than enjoy.
His love of autumn — and by extension, his distaste for summer — persisted into adulthood, even when life moved on after the war. Although there were no more shopping trips to Diagon Alley, journeys on the Hogwarts Express, or sorting hat ceremonies reinforcing Harry’s eagerness for the fall, his feelings remained. Harry would wake up on September 1st giddy and eager, like a child on Christmas Eve, and then proceed to make breakfast for the kids and floo to the Ministry for an Auror meeting, just like any other day. There was no longer anything particularly exciting about September, but he kept a tight grip on his memories of the scarlet steam engine, trolley snacks, and welcome feasts.
That all changed two years ago when James began his first year at Hogwarts. That year, September 1st brought a change that he wasn’t ready for — watching his son board the Hogwarts Express. James’ eyes sparkled with excitement, but Harry shared none of the enthusiasm. Instead, Harry’s stomach felt heavy with dread as he watched the train roll away, smiling and waving at James’ anxious face in the window while holding back tears and desperately wishing it was still August.
The following year wasn’t any easier, and today was even worse. When Albus joined James on the train, it took all of Harry’s effort to reassure him that everything would be okay because, for Harry, it probably wouldn’t. It was funny how Harry could defeat Voldemort at seventeen, but he was still convinced that saying goodbye to his kids on platform nine and three-quarters was the most difficult thing he’d ever do.
Harry was half-listening to the hustle and bustle of the Burrow and trying not to get too comfy in the extra spaciousness in the living room, made possible only by the absence of the older children when he spotted a flash of red outside in the garden. Ron was sitting alone on a bench, cradling a butterbeer, his hair a stark contrast to the muted green of the overgrown lawn.
Without a second thought, Harry moved toward the Burrow’s exit, following the narrow stone pathway that curved into the garden. It didn’t cross his mind whether or not Ron wanted to be alone, and even if he did, there was an unspoken agreement between them that ‘alone’ didn’t exclude being with each other.
Ron smiled ruefully when he spotted Harry approaching, but it only lasted a second before his shoulders slumped and his smile vanished. “Hey, mate.”
“Hey,” said Harry, plopping down beside Ron on the bench. Ron shifted sideways to make room for him. “You okay?”
“Dunno,” said Ron, before bringing his butterbeer to his lips and taking in a long gulp.
“Thinking about Rosie?” asked Harry.
Ron nodded and coughed, clearing his throat from his oversized sip. “Bloody hate that she’s gone.”
“I know the feeling,” said Harry. “Was even worse this year with Al going too.”
“I bet. Sorry, mate.”
A few comfortable moments of silence passed, as both men knew perfectly well that there was nothing to say to make the other feel better.
Ron gulped down the rest of his butterbeer before speaking again. “I just hope she’s okay.”
Harry smiled, remembering how he said that about James his first year. When James turned out fine, better than fine, Harry had to admit his concern was for his own loneliness rather than James’ safety. “She’s probably fine, but you know that,” he says, earning a moment of confused eye contact from Ron. “It’s us you should worry about.”
“We almost died at Hogwarts. So many times,” said Ron, a wistful smile forming on his lips.
“And thanks to us,” said Harry, “they have it better than we did. Either way, she’s a tough girl. Smart. You raised a good one.”
“Thank Merlin she takes after her mum.”
Harry laughed. Hermione always said that Rose took after Ron, not her. Harry thought it was both. They probably saw the best traits in their daughter and assumed they were from the other parent. “Rosie takes after you a lot more than you think.”
“That’s what Hermione says. But thanks, now I’m even more worried,” laughed Ron. “Think Rosie and Albus’ll be in Gryffindor together?”
“No doubt about Rosie,” said Harry, as the memory of Rosie’s first time on a broomstick resurfaced. Rosie’s face was scarlet-red with excitement as she took a nosedive toward the ground, followed by a frenzied and panicked Ron. The cushioning charm he just barely cast in time turned out to be unnecessary, as she swerved at the last second to avoid a collision, but Harry was pretty sure Ron’s blood pressure had never returned to a normal level.
“Yeah, stupid question,” laughed Ron. He smiled, and Harry wondered if he was recalling the same memory or one of the many other times Rosie demonstrated Gryffindor courage, even if it meant disregarding her own safety. “What about Albus?”
“Honestly, no clue. I could see him being in Gryffindor or Slytherin,” he said, noticing Ron wince at ‘Slytherin.’ Ron’s reaction filled Harry with a parental defensiveness he wasn’t expecting, and he added pointedly, “I’ll be proud of him either way.”
Ron nodded in agreement, maybe a bit too eagerly, but it momentarily settled the passing fear that Albus would be sorted into a different house than his siblings and cousins. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want him to be in Slytherin, he just didn’t want him to be alone.
But maybe Albus wanted to be in a different house than his family, and Harry was just projecting.
“I wonder who they’re sitting with on the train,” said Ron as if reading Harry’s mind. Then he flashed his lopsided grin, still goofy and youthful even at the ripe age of thirty-seven. “You know those unfortunate souls will have to be their friends for the rest of time.”
Unfortunate souls. Harry smiled at the insinuation that becoming Ron’s best friend was determined as soon as they found that empty compartment together on the Hogwarts Express. Maybe Neville was meant to lose his toad, and Hermione’s subsequent intrusion was no accident. As far as Harry was concerned, prophecies had only caused him trouble, but maybe he owed destiny a token of gratitude, too. “Whatever souls they’re sitting next to are extremely lucky.”
“The luckiest,” added Ron with a nostalgic smile.
It was unclear if Ron was still referring to the kids at this point, but it didn’t matter. It was all the same to Harry. They were the luckiest.
--------------------------------------
For more moments like this, read Completely Mental on Ao3 or FFN. Now complete! <3
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k3rm1e · 3 years
Note
Hello, could I request a reader that used he/they pronouns and has a deep Voice but they have a very feminine body. They don't have dysphoria though, Can you do a reaction to that anyone from the dream smp. Thank you hopefully this isn't that confusing.
gender
Hello, could I request a reader that used he/they pronouns and has a deep Voice but they have a very feminine body. They don't have dysphoria though, Can you do a reaction to that anyone from the dream smp. Thank you hopefully this isn't that confusing.
hi! by this i’m pretty sure you mean a trans ftm reader who just doesn’t experience gender dysphoria. i’m pretty sure this is what you meant so if this wasn’t accurate please just send me another ask! i hope you enjoy this <3
also i had no clue for the title thing oabibefhbkf just ‘gender’
he/they pronouns used this also mentions body type, so if that’s something you wanna avoid here’s a little note :)
cw: cursing 
gender:
  being a faceless streamer came with challenges. fans asking what you looked like, accusing you of being a creep because you won’t show your face. but there were the perks. no one judged you for your looks, you wouldn't get recognized, hell, if you wanted to just leave the face of the internet, no one could find you. but, then there also came the time when your friends wanted to see you.
  “hi chat! so today we’re just gonna be running around the smp, uh, no ones doing lore right now right? i did not check and i don’t wanna mess with anyone’s stream, heh.” seeing much of the chat saying ‘no’ or ‘you’re fine’ you continued on.
  “no lore? no lore. pog. we won’t have to try and avoid anything.” you were just running around, talking with chat. eret had joined and you asked if she wanted to join vc.
  “hello ert, what’s up?” you addressed him as ‘ert’ instead of his name, finding it amusing. “i am live right now,  just so you know.”.
  “hi! hi chat, how are you all? and i’m just doing nothing right now, i was gonna see if there’s any materials i could gather for the museum.” you ran over to their chords, crouching in front of him.
  for the rest of the stream you mainly screwed around, having talks with chat. that was how it was for a while until near the end of stream when you were mainly just chatting with music, a dono was read out by tts saying, “deep voice bois. streamer when shall the face reveal be. let us (respectfully, ofc) swoon.”.
  “uh, uh, i dunno, dono. i mean, its never been something i’ve put a lot of thought into. like, even though people have asked its just not really something i’ve ever wanted to do, y’know?” trying to explain yourself like this, it always was slightly panicky, but you just shoved it down.
  “chat, he’s not even lying though. all my months on this server, i still have no clue what he looks like!” you could tell eret was trying to relieve some pressure from you, god bless her soul. you owed her.
  “yeah, i just haven’t ever wanted to. like, i think only like, maybe like bad and them have seen me, like years ago when i first met people on munchymc.” continuing on with questions, you ended the stream within the next 30 or so minutes.
  when you had finally shut everything down with a sigh, you spoke. “thank you eret. i owe you.” you leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling.
  “yeah, yeah, next time i get asked any uncomfortable question you can be a knight in shining armor. but, on that note, i have been meaning to ask you about that though, why haven’t you done any sort of face reveal?” you knew he meant no harm at all, even so you were dying inside.
  “uh, i just haven’t ever wanted to. i mean, if you want to, just to know what i look like, we can, its fine. i don’t mind.” you were scratching the back of your neck, already regretting your life choices.
  “yeah, i would. um, we could just do like a discord call later, tomorrow? when its not like four in the morning?” his voice held humor in it, you knew he was trying to relieve the tension.
  “yeah, yeah, of course. let’s. tomorrow.” you said you’re goodbyes and ran to bed, knowing tomorrow would be stressful.
  you woke up early to an alarm, making sure you were physically and emotionally prepared for this. taking shower, you did your hair and makeup. even with though your voice was super deep, you still had feminine features. it was never a bother, so why get rid of them? plus, it saved you a shit ton of money. top surgery was expensive, bottom surgery even more. hormone therapy was easier, but still cost money, but it was just inconvenient for the position you were in now.
  trans discourse was a small thing, but seemed so big when you looked at the people who created it. if you did show yourself, would you still be accepted even if you didn’t feel dysphoria? even through all your nerves, you kept through it. eret would accept you; they were quite literally one of your best friends. it would be fine. fine.
  sitting at your pc, you answered the call the moment it started ringing. you stared at his face in the camera and watched his face twist in confusion. “somehow i think i expected you to look different. a bit more murdery, i suppose.”
  you tried to smile, or laugh, but couldn’t bring yourself to. god, how you hated human emotions. they were all so complex and unreasonable, making people feel like they would vomit even though nothing had physically ailed them. emotions made no sense, whatsoever.
  “yeah, um, yeah, no this, this is what i look like. um, i just never really- never really felt any sort of, like gender dysphoria, i guess? like, i uh, i cut my hair and kept it like that , but in terms of like, body-wise just- no.” you wished your mouth would stop moving, but you just kept bartering about. “yeah, and i know there’s the whole discourse stuff about whether trans people need gender dysphoria, and i don’t know how you think, but i know who i am. and whatever you think will not change that, at all. i just hope you can, y’know, accept that.” you had finally shut up and were winded. good. at least you sounded somewhat confident. 
  “oh, god no, dude, you are whatever you identify as. in no way should you need to feel gender dysphoria to be trans, that’s bullshit. you’re still you, and if you identify as a boy, you’re a guy. its as simple as that.” eret was smiling nicely at you through the camera.
  you wanted to cry. all that, all that worrying, about nobody accepting you, about them hating you, had all been for nothing. “seriously, you don’t know just how much that means. i- thank you, man. thank you.” you better not cry.
  “its literally just human decency man, don’t thank me. you are so valid, don’t worry about it.”.
i hope this was what you wanted! for anyone reading this, just no you are all so valid. you don’t need gender dysphoria to be trans, you just are. i hope you guys all have a lovely day! <33
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thefanficmonster · 3 years
Text
Never Satisfied [Chapter 6]
Corpse Husband x Original Female Character
Warnings: Language
A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤
“I don’t wanna look like this, fuck”
Previously on Never Satisfied:
Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora
With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.
Corpse: save
Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time. 
Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?
Corpse: thank you
Cora: anytime sugar ;)
Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?
                                                            *  *  *
Corpse sighs as he looks at himself in the mirror. He’s been trying to step up a little with the dressing game since he’ll be having a special guest over - ok, truth be told, he didn’t invite her, she invited herself but he’s glad she did. Lord knows he wants her company and wants her around but he could never bring himself to invite her over or initiate a hangout. Good thing Cora doesn’t expect anything from him, not of that nature at least. It’s oddly amazing having a person like her - someone who basically reads his mind like an open book and then takes action according to what she’s read. It’s not only the fact that she accurately gauges all his wants and needs, but also how she knows exactly what to do to satisfy them. To calm him down, to relieve his anxiety, to make him feel comfortable. He feels strangely selfish for always being on the receiving end of this friendship, although he doesn’t see much he could do for her. He’s decided to let time have full control of the course of their relationship, hoping his giver time would come soon.
As of now, however, it still hasn’t and he can stomach that.
It’s been about a week and a half since their first hangout but he hasn’t missed her once. That may be due to how much they’ve been texting ever since he unlocked that checkpoint she offered him. To be more specific, it probably has something to do with the fact that her texts are always so full of life and light, sounding almost like she’s there with him, talking in her signature upbeat and bubbly way which is such a contrast to his own melancholic approach to any conversation ever. 
She’s also sent him a ton of memes and selfies, plus pictures she took of clients’ pets. In return for her kindness, he’s sent her bad jokes, weird internet articles about ghosts and pictures of the current game he was playing. Needless to say, their chats have been very colorful.
Now that the scene has been set up a little better, a direct timeline of events lading up to this one would be appreciated, wouldn’t it? Ok so, it all started with an “I’m bored” text Corpse received from Cora about two hours ago. Instinctively, and partially because he didn’t have any idea what else he could possibly say in response to that he sent back an apology. An apology Cora apparently deemed a loophole she could use to invite herself over cause that’s exactly what she did, not that Corpse minds it much. In fact, he felt his heartbeat quicken with excitement when her “K then, I’ll be there in a bit :)” text came in. At first he thought it was his anxiety kicking in but when he realized the rest of his typical symptoms remained absent it took him a little while to pinpoint what that emotion could be.
The epiphany came in the form of the word ‘excitement’.
Regardless of the newfound feeling, or maybe exactly because of it, he attempted to protest. A protest she killed easily with a threatening “I know where you live” text which sent Corpse scrambling to get the apartment in some kind of order. Himself too, it’s safe to say he wasn’t looking the most presentable when he received that message. 
His cleaning session consisted mostly of him shoving the strewn about items in his closet and closing it shut like a wild beast dwelled inside, placing a chair in front of the door as a sign for her not to open it and also as a way of preventing the thing from opening on its own because of how overflowing it was. 
Afterwards he scrambled into the shower to scrub himself down. It’d been too much for him to tackle given he wasn’t doing too well mentally, but considering he was now suddenly expecting company he thought it’d be for the best not to subject his new friend to the three-day-unshowered Corpse stank. 
Right now, his main focus is his face, his stomach sinking at the sight of himself in the mirror’s reflection. 
How does she even want to see me? 
His mirror is cracked along the right side, spider web-like cracks reaching towards the center of it from the impact point serving as a reminder of a particularly bad night he’d rather forget.
He sighs as he combs his hair, knowing the dark curls won’t oblige and behave no matter how much he tries. He touches his jaw, deciding to let himself off the hook by deeming that a shave wouldn’t be necessary for at least another day. And then his eyes land on his clothes - an outfit it didn’t take him long to put together since those are the only articles of clothing in his closet he’d consider presentable enough to be shown off in front of a new friend who is yet to find out how much of a slob he really is. That clothing choice consists of a black button-up shirt and jeans. 
This is nice, right? It’s fine. It’s business casual but definitely leaning more towards casual, as some would say. I look...nice, decent. I’ll take it - it’s enough. Far better than my ‘usual’.
A knock at the door startles him, though it’s quickly followed by a voice he’s grown to find very endearing: 
“THIS IS THE COPPAS! OPEN UP YA’ DOOR!” The voice yells out, probably loud enough for the whole complex to hear but it’s not like he gives a shit. And, as context clues show, neither does she.
Corpse exits his bathroom, heading for the front door, pulling the chain off and unlocking the deadbolt before opening it. The object of his newfound affection stands on the other side, grinning and beaming with that usual light she has surrounding her. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun - a hairstyle she seems to love - and she’s wearing a simple red t-shirt covered in little chubby, cartoonish black cats that seem to be struggling to exist. 
He smiles a little, finding it in himself to speak up but when he opens his mouth to do so, she cuts him off.
“Jesus, did you just come back from a funeral?” She asks, pulling at one of the buttons on his chest as she walks past him, letting herself in. 
His eyes, completely on their own accord, wander down as she walks on by, causing him to swallow hard as he finds himself staring at a pair of tanned legs, patterned by the fishnets she’s wearing, leading up to a pair of short black shorts. 
She turns on her heel about halfway down the hall, leading him to take an inevitable notice of how her well-loved boots could use a polish. Anyhow, he snaps his gaze away to hide the fact he’s been gawking, despite not really meaning to.
“No, but for real, why are you wearing that? You seem super confined and uncomfy, bud.”
Corpse blinks before swallowing and glancing down at himself, pulling at the button she touched before looking back up, his gaze traveling up the length of her legs. She has suspenders hanging over her thighs, more of an accessory than a necessary addition to her outfit. “I just...I dunno, I thought it looked nice. Does it not? I mean, I wouldn’t know, really. I don’t usually dress like this.”
“I mean, you look dapper as fuck but if you’re not comfortable then change, get your comfy game on. I’m the last person you need to impress in this world.”
God, she sees right through him. Even so, he considers protesting, trying to convince it’s all fine, that he likes this shirt and the outfit in its entirety. But her stare sets the record straight for him - she’ll know it’s all lies. And with that in mind, he lets his shoulders fall. Not a full second passes before he promptly starts undoing his buttons. 
“Oh, thank fuck.”  She comments as he  goes to retreat into his room, stripping the shirt off as he walks, unaware of her lingering eyes on his back, unaware of her lower lip bitten between her pearly teeth. Unaware of the subtle shift in her stance as she looks him over much like he did her moments earlier.
When he returns a moment later in a simple dark grey t-shirt, she greets him with a grin and pats his chest. “Much better.”
It doesn’t take long for them to decide to crash on his couch, throw on a bad movie and just sit in comfortable silence. Comfortable silence - something that usually eats away at him and is anything but comfortable he now sees as calming, a soothe to his ever-racing mind. 
Disrespecting the movie, Corpse takes to analyzing his guest instead. She has so much confidence, he can’t help but notice, like she’s been here hundreds of times, known him for so long. He hates her a little for it. Well, it’s not quite hate, it leans more toward envy. Jealousy. That human-nature characteristic of wanting what someone else has but you desperately need/wish you had. In his mind, she’s almost selfish: Why couldn’t she share some of that confidence and carefree manner with the rest of the world? It oozes out of her like a drip of honey from a beehive, sweet and warm. And all he wants yet has none of.
He instinctively tenses up as he feels her move closer before, suddenly, her head drops into his lap, legs kicked over the armrest of the couch. He holds his breath almost subconsciously, staring at her as she remains focused on the television. Unsure of what to do with his hands, he puts one across the back of the couch and the other awkwardly bent above his head. He doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea if he touches her. He doesn’t want to come off as a creep nor does he want to overstep any of her boundaries, despite the fact she’s walking a dangerous line of overstepping his. Well, that would’ve been the case if this was done by anyone but her. The way Corpse comes to this realization is when he figures out that he really doesn’t mind this proximity, as long as he doesn’t embarrass himself or creep her out in any way.
What felt like an eternity passes before she finally speaks up, still without looking away from the movie playing on the screen opposite the couch, “You know, I can feel how tense you are.” 
His face flushes with embarrassment, heating up as his mind immediately goes to the worst possible outcome of this situation.
She’ll probably sit up, or leave, he thinks to himself, heart thumping in his ears as he tries to observe her face the best he can from this angle. Nevertheless, he swallows that fear as she rolls her head to look up at him with those large glittering doe eyes, grinning a bit as she seems to always do, “You can just put your hands wherever it’s comfortable for you. I don’t mind.”
He hesitates for a moment but, as always, he doesn’t get much say cause she makes the choice for him, knowing that pesky fear is keeping him immobile. She takes the hand from over his head and pulls it down to rest just next to her skull. She then drags the one resting at the back of the couch, placing it so his hand is resting dead-center on her stomach. Satisfied with how she’s rearranged his posture, she goes back to watching the movie but not before asking: “This okay?” while looking at him through her peripheral vision. 
He’d have to admit it’s far more comfortable like this.
“Yeah, it’s fine. You’re okay?” He asks, feeling relieved when he feels her nod against his leg. 
He moves his hand a little and swallows hard as he contemplates if he really should make the move he’s thinking of at the moment. And then he abruptly decides not to think. So, instead, he acts on it. 
Without thinking of any potential negative consequences, Corpse slides his fingers to lace with hers, resting their conjoined hands on her stomach in the same spot where she left his hand a bit ago. She curls her digits around his tighter as reassurance that it’s ok. Her palm feels warm in his hand, her thumb tracing his cold metal rings. 
Checkpoint...his checkpoint. 
Is this what it feels like to be normal?, he wonders, Is this what it feels like to really connect with someone? He has never felt this before. He’s never met someone who has such an effect on him, understand him like this - Without even having to ask she grounded him; she knew what he needed and didn’t make him feel like an idiot about it. Instead she gave him the comfort he needed.
And suddenly he finds himself afraid - realizing that this isn’t simply a vibe of two buddies hanging out. He has that subtle ache in his chest that’s telling him he wants something…something substantial from this friendship. He wants this to last, or for it to blossom, he’s not sure yet. But for the first time, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming need to figure it out. That’s one of the many effects this girl has on him - she’s the definition of improvisation, unpredictable and alive. He’s slowly learning to let loose himself, all thanks to her. Slowly, he’s learning to trust time. 
He abruptly realizes he’s glancing at her often as the movie is still running, examining her features and slowly running his gaze down the length of her fishnet-clad thighs before quickly looking away, mentally scolding himself. It’s hard, but he manages to turn his gaze elsewhere for his sake and hers. For the sake of keeping things normal, platonic and not in any way awkward for either of them. The last thing he needs is to make things weird by letting his mind wander and activate his libido and then she’d really notice how tense he is. 
Cora remains oblivious to what’s going on in his head, thank God, as she continues running her thumb across his knuckles, eyes half lidded in calm content - something that’d typically seem like the complete opposite of what she is. He likes seeing her like this, tamed almost. He feels like no one else has had the privilege to see this calm side of her. Maybe that’s not the truth - it probably isn’t - but he still feels special, knowing that it’s a tight circle of people who have seen her this way.
And then he realizes the movements of her thumb on his hand have stopped.
He freezes for a moment, his fearful gaze travelling to her face where he’s relieved to find her eyes closed only seconds before he hears a light snore escape her.
She’s fallen asleep.
It’s an odd scene. She’s such a wild and free spirit, seeing her fall asleep like this is like observing an abnormality, a paranormal event. You know, like something one doesn’t usually believe exists or is capable of happening. He’d never before been able to imagine her asleep. It’s ridiculous, he’s aware - she’s human after all, but his mind has never been able to comprehend the thought and image of her captured by the power of sleep. He simply couldn’t see it happening. But now that it’s happened in front of him, he can’t look away from the sight of her relaxed, peaceful features, overcome by sudden slumber.
And then he comes to the realization that he’s now practically held hostage on his own couch, crippled by the danger of waking her up. It’s gonna be a long while, isn’t it, he thinks to himself, yet there’s still a satisfied smile on his face. A smile that’s a result of knowing he’s held hostage by her. That’s more a blessing than a curse, if he’s being honest.
@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen
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therealyaspen · 3 years
Text
Possessed Legend Go Brr
You know I was gonna just post a snippet bc I stopped writing this like five months ago bUT HERE HAVE A MESSY, UNEDITED BUT COMPLETE THING I GUESS?? Any grammatical errors will probably be looked over tomorrow dfnsav
So. The Lost Woods were still creepy as hell. Good to know. A dense fog still covered the area, and crows still screamed their call-and-respond at random seemingly just to startle anyone not expecting it. The same old eerie lantern-light darted between the trees, the same poes laughed at the group as they got up and dusted themselves off.
Some things would never change, Legend supposed, no matter how often you came back.
"Looks like the Lost Woods," Time observed. "Do we know whose era we're in?"
"Mine," Legend said with a glance at the pedestal in the middle of the clearing, "The Sword looks just like I left it."
Sky sighed sadly. "This place is so... different," he said, then turned to Legend and asked, "Are you going to take it?"
Legend shook his head. "Better to leave it here for now, I think." In truth, he didn't want to hold the blade ever again. Too many memories involved his hand clenched tight around the azure hilt of the Master Sword until his knuckles turned white. Without another word on the matter, he started walking. "We should probably get going before that scaly bastard can put anymore distance between himself and us. Follow me and stick close--Hyrule, no wandering off."
And so began the journey through the woos. As the group of heroes left the Sword behind them, however, it became increasingly apparent that something was wrong with the Lost Woods. The further they went from the clearing, the more obvious the signs were. The plants were wilting and turning a sickly purple grey color, the crows got to be fewer and fewer. Wild was caught trying to grab mushrooms that even Legend hadn't seen before three times. Even the poes seemed to notice that something was amiss and were avoiding the rest of the forest as much as they could.
Hyrule was the first to say anything. "Something's not right. There's magic here, but it's... wrong. Like Dark Link's," he announced, reaching up to touch a grayed leaf and recoiling with a yelp when it crumbled to dust in his hand. It almost looked like it had burned the Traveler.
"Then all we can do is stay on our toes and trust Legend to get us out of here," Twilight replied, and Legend noted the way that his pelt almost looked like the fur on the back of an animal's neck, bristling and on high alert. He nodded.
"New rule--don't touch anything. Wild, for Din's sake, put the mushrooms down!"
Wild gave him a kicked puppy look over his armload of slimy, red-capped fungi. "They look like they might be good for cooking!" he protested.
Legend pinched the bridge of his nose. "They also might be poisonous, you--" the Veteran stopped mid-sentence, and not of his own volition. He felt his arms drop to his sides, his face go slack. What the hell...? What in the actual goddess-damned fuck?! He wanted to shout, to rip whatever was doing this to him a new asshole, but he couldn't.
This was... something else. Something other.
"...Legend? You okay?" Wild asked. "It's fine dude, I'll put them down." Gingerly, he set the mushrooms on the ground, then put his hands up when Legend--or rather, the thing that was controlling Legend--didn't look away or change its expression or do anything. Get the fuck out of me! I swear to Hylia, I'll kick your ass! Legend swore at whatever it was, trying to force even just a little twitch of his finger.
Four looked at him warily. "Is he... do you guys think he can even hear us? Legend?" he asked, tentatively walking over to him. Yes! Yes, I can, and I have no goddess-damned clue what the hell's going on! Hyrule's arm shot out to stop Four. His eyes were wide, never leaving Legend.
"Don't," he said, voice cracking a little. "Something... something's really wrong."
Whatever had taken Legend's body finally decided to speak. Its voice was raspy and quiet and most certainly not his own. It sounded almost like fallen leaves scraping against the bare earth in the fall. "Trespassers... leave..."
Then Legend felt himself be thrown forward in a leap towards Hyrule, sword out and ready to attack. Move! He screamed, but again, his mouth didn't so much as twitch. Four grabbed the other hero and pulled him down just barely in time to avoid getting sliced in half, but the sound of steel cutting through flesh was as clear as Hyrule's scream as the blade struck him. The Traveler had a massive gash in his side. legend's arm moved up to deal a death blow, and he was begging now, Please, don't do this! Don't kill him, don't kill any of them, they're all I have--
Clang!
Legend would have cheered at the sound of his sword striking Wild's shield if he could. Wild pushed outwards with a shout, sending Legend stumbling back. Warriors and Time were on him before whatever had him could even think about getting up, though the thing was apparently much stronger than he was and was struggling violently in an attempt to throw both of them off. "What the hell are you doing?!" Warriors bellowed. The fury in his eyes almost physically burned, and Legend didn't really blame him. He'd probably react much the same.
"He's not himself," Time said. His voice was strained, and Legend could see that behind his neutral expression was a barrage of emotions. He couldn't imagine any of them were particularly pleasant. "Someone grab his sword!"
Twilight was just barely able to pry the weapon from his grip, which seemed to just further aggravate the thing inside him. Time and Warriors both ended up being thrown off. "Damn, that was... has he always been this strong?" Warriors muttered, getting up swiftly and moving to aid Sky in trying to grab Legend again.
It's probably whatever's causing him to act like this," Sky guessed. He blocked a punch aimed directly at his head and Legend silent-howled in pain as his fist connected with solid metal, but his body landed a blow to the Skyloftian's gut and a kick to Twilight's left knee.
He was sent downwards when Wind charged him and grabbed ahold of the back of his legs, then swore internally as his newly-retrieved sword tore through the Sailor's calf. "Fuck! I don't want to hurt him, but this asshole's sure not taking it easy on us!" the kid exclaimed.
Twilight was back on his feet quickly, though Legend noticed that he was favoring his injured knee just a little. He hoped to whoever would listen that this thing didn't see it too. Sky was a little slower to recover, but he got back up before Legend shook Wind off of him.
"Hey!"
Legend's head snapped in the direction of the shout to see Warriors. The Captain looked jarringly unsure and a little surprised, as if he hadn't meant to yell. He shook his head and the surprise disappeared, though he was clearly still uncertain. Legend was barreling into him before he could start speaking, and he hardly had time to get his shield up. "Snap our of it, Legend! This isn't--I know you're still in there!"
The thing controlling Legend kicked at Warriors' ankles, sending him toppling down. Warriors went at Legend's own ankles, hard. Fucking ow, asshole. Legend didn't even have time to think before he was on his stomach, Warriors holding his left wrist firmly against the ground and rendering the sword he held useless. The Captain's knee was in his back, and his full weight was holding Legend down. The whatever-it-was struggled, thrashing to get free, but the others were quick to secure his other limbs.
There was a beat of silence, save for ragged breathing and the sounds of a frantic attempt to get free, before Warriors spoke. His weight shifted a bit. "Sorry, Legend. We'll figure this out, I promise."
Then there was a pain in the back of Legend's neck, and he was released into unfeeling darkness.
~~~
When Legend awoke, the first thing he noticed was the rope tying his hands together. The second was the very familiar bed, and the third...
"Oh, Mister Hero! You're awake!"
Legend groaned and gave Ravio the evil eye when he helped him sit up, but was relieved to find that he could move his body on his own now. "What the hell am I doing here, and where are the others."
Ravio gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, you wound me! And here I was, worried you wouldn't wake up yourself!"
"Ravio..."
"Fine, fine--but you did give me quite the scare, you know! Being carried in, unconscious and apparently possessed and all--"
"Ravio!"
The merchant put his hands on his hips. "Hold your horses, Mister Hero, I'm gettin' to it! Your family--" Ah. Yeah. He had called them that, hadn't he? "--didn't have time to say much at first. Mister Cape pulled out his sword--somehow, he had the actual Master Sword, what's up with that?!--and did this thing with it Something about purifying a corrupted forest spirit and getting it out of you? I dunno, that kinda went over my head if I'm being honest,... Anyways, the sword burned up his hands pretty bad, so I pointed him and a bunch of the others towards Kakariko so they could find a healer or something. Mister Scarf, Mister Armor, and Freckles headed to the castle to try and get an audience with Zelda for help, in case the whole sword thing didn't work."
Legend frowned, taking a moment to digest all that. So Sky had tried to use the Master Sword to exorcise him? And apparently it had worked? But he'd hurt himself. Now Fable might get involved, and not only would he get the ass-chewing of the century, but she'd be wasting her time she could be spending not worrying about a brother that was okay, really. Legend sighed. "I guess we're gonna have to wait until they get back, then," he said. "Think you can untie me? I'm guessing these were put here in case I woke up and was... not myself." Come to think of it, how had he stayed out that long? Had Hyrule used sleeping potions? That had to be it, there was no ay he would have been out for the entire trek from the Lost Woods to his house otherwise.
A mischievous light glinted in Ravio's eyes. "Hm... I'm not sure, how do I know you're not just that evil, corrupted spirit impersonating Link? Think you can prove you're not?"
"Fucker-- you know damn well I'm not!"
"Mmm, I dunno~"
Legend seethed. "Fine, when you started your 'rental shop' or whatever, the thing that pissed me off the most was that you moved my goddess-damned bed. That good?"
Ravio clapped his hands together, and Sheerow chirped from somewhere across the room. "It really is you, Mister Hero!" he exclaimed cheerfully, going to work at the knot holding Legend's hands together.
He would still be working at it when Time, Warriors, and Hyrule returned with Fable to the sound of Legend screaming at him to just cut the damn thing.
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angloie · 3 years
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Rivals. Nothing more. (1/2)
> Percy is annoyed on how Annabeth always was. Her passion to win, to suceed, to be better than him. He hates that. It's totally not hot, or whatever.
> Warnings: swearing and kinda (?) suggestive undertones, my writing
> Genre: fluff, mutual pinning, Percy having a huge fat crush on Annabeth.
You can find the second part here!
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Percy wasn't very fond of smartasses who talked back.
I mean, who wouldn't? They were truly insufferable; acting like they knew everything and spat out facts here and there, all high and mighty.
Annabeth fit that description perfectly.
She's such a stuck up nerd; always beating his spot just opened place higher than him. When they spar, Percy can't help but feel a overwhelming urge pushing him to win. Annabeth struck back with the same passion, every strike, slash, push, thrust, holds her need for victory.
And when Percy does win after a long match? It feels amazing. The refreshing mood when you get exactly what you want- for once beating enemy number one. Annabeth shakes hands with him after and it infuriates him all over again. Why can't she feel more embarassed? Devestated? Shame? She walks away from the training arena calmly like she won over him.
Oh, Annabeth does feel embarassed. Devestated, too. But the look in Percy's eyes when she acts all stoic- seated stop her high horse- is simply electrifying. No better feeling than antagonizing your rivals, right?
They first meet at twelve. Both still young and insufferable, being the natural rivals they were. After all, their godly parents were two of the biggest rivals between one another: Athena and Posiedon.
Then they’re thirteen. Rivals, yes, but they can get along better now. Much better, in fact. Annabeth just feels the tiniest bit of attraction. It's just platonic. That's what she likes to tell herself, really.
Fourteen and Percy and her still bickering and arguing like usual. They can respect each other's boundaries still, all while they make crude jokes about the other. People say that they might be best friends, but the two of them shoot their ideas out of their heads. Who would wan't to be friends with that loser, anyways?
The ripe age of fifteen. Same old Percy, and same old Annabeth. They grow stronger together, and even more stronger as they progress. It's such a heartwarming thing to watch. Annabeth becomes more aware of how Percy looks. His apearance. Once a couple inches shorter than her becomes level-height. And then Percy has the audacity to grow taller than her. 
He likes to tease Annabeth about it. Holding books above her head, or anything he can grab that's hers. It's more blood-boiling when you remember the fact that people in ancient Greece associated height with power. Percy? Have more power than her? Unaceptable.
Percy on the flip side becomes more aware of how his endearing his rival becomes. Annabeth puts him in awe sometimes, incredibly witty and smart. But the snobbish attitude from her makes him want to gag. Maybe not as much as it did in the past other years. Annabeth, (as much as he hates to admit it) is someone he can trust. After years of being partners in both battle and else, that was expected. Percy still can't trust Annabeth with his blue cookies though.
Sixteen, finally. A confusing year for Percy. It becomes a growing problem for Percy when his heart beats erratically when Annabeth is near. Her shampoo smells so heavenly from where he's sitting, which is at the end of her bed. Annabeth sits crossed legged from him, flicking the pages of a book. Percy just saw the lights on from her cabin and crawled through the window. That would make her annoyed, right? No other reason; just to annoy her. Totally not because he wants to see her again.
Annabeth doesn't have the slightest clue in her mind about why she let him in. Or why he opted to sit on her bed directly, instead of sitting on one of the very comfortable seats in the large room. Annabeth doesn't complain. The cabin is empty; her other guests singing along at the campfire or elsewhere. 
Percy gets up wordlessly as Annabeth continues to stare at her book. Words are flowing through, forming, but she can't seem to focus to comprehend the book.
She notices his arrival when the bed dips with his weight. Percy has a blob of water in mid-air, floating just above the palm of his hand.
“You better not get that on my bed,” Annabeth chides, “Or I'll make sure to kill you.”
“Really now?” Percy makes the water floating towards her, threatening to soak her face. It stops inches before her- stopping from wetting her clothes along with it. She doesn't flinch.
Annabeth gives a sticky sweet smile, but her eyes say otherwise. Something along the lines of 'You better be digging up your grave now'. Percy flinches back in surprise, hands braced in a defensive position. The water shifts and floats back to him... to only float around the room aimlessly.
It's times like this when he feels truly at peace. The air is tense, sure, but he feels calmer than ever before. It's liberating.
The water leaks a bit from the moving. Annabeth is amazed how it moves so effortlessly. It's Percy moving it, but that didn't matter. Sometimes Annabeth wished she had powers... Her smarts and wits were amazing, but she felt that she could achieve even more if she had them. It's a painful thought.
Percy sits back on her bed, staring at the white celling. Different coloured sticky notes and red strings are hooked together by flimsy thumb tacks. Talk about being a nerd.
Both lost in their thoughts and a good book, the water comes back around the room to splash on-
Just fucking peachy.
On Annabeth.
“Percy!” She screeches, hair damp with liquid and some finding it's way on her white shirt. Due to the thin fabric and cool water, he shirt becomes a little more. How do you put it? transparent. Translucent.
“Oh shit-” Percy jerks upwards, moving his hands around frantically. If he stares any longer, he might become more aware of the now visible uhm- undergarments. He also might notice that they are blue, his favourite colour, and how it looks so fucking good on her. 
Okay, he's noticed all of that in a matter of seconds.
“Quit staring!” Annabeth protests more, as Percy gets up to face the wall and cover his eyes. 
“I didn't mean to!” He says, still facing away from her. “I-it was a accident!” I swear!”
“Quit you're blubbering and get out!”
“Sorry!” Percy says again, and again. “I’m really sorry!” Until he finds his way to the large mahogany door and steps out.
“I- uh-" He tries to reasonate, tries to make up with her. But it's quickly shut off when Annabeth slams the door in his face. Leaving a very stuttering and blushing Percy.
Seventeen. It's a dreadful year for the two of them.
It becomes painfully clear why Percy had been a blushing, embarrassing mess around Annabeth. Clear on why he feels like he's on cloud nine when she pins him down in the sparing arena. And incredibly clear why Percy thinks about her eyes, her smile, her everything. Even the random facts he always thought was annoying and stupid leave marks on his brain. 
The oblivious son of Poseidon denies his feelings. Just some rivalry feelings! Some of which include him wanting to kiss Annabeth so bad sometimes, or even wanting to hold hands while walking along the sand. Maybe he does have the occasional dream of some less than appropriate things. Percy's rather embarassed about that.
It's when Grover, his reliable and trustworthy best friend finally makes him realize his true feelings. Ones hidden layers of sarcasm and sharp jokes.
“You think about her twenty four seven,” Grover starts, leaning back on the thick trunk of the oak tree. Percy had just came to him mid-spar to tell him how Annabeth was absolutely destroying him.
“And you also blab about her nonstop. I dunno dude, that sounds like a crush to me.” Grover sighs heavily. Percy blinks once. Then twice. And then three times.
“Do you get jealous when you see her with someone else?”
“Yeah! It's sickening! I feel all weird and stuff, so I-”
“You have a crush~” Grover teases.
“No? I think it's just-"
“Its a crush, Percy. You're so oblivious that it'll never progress more than that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Percy scowls at him. A bead of sweat trails down his forehead, caused from the hours of training.
“It means you have to confess.” Grover simply states, getting up. His hooves clomp down on the hard-packed earth as he trails away. “You gotta do it sooner or later, before someone else does it!”
That thought makes bile rise in his stomach. Annabeth? Go out with someone's else? Other than him? No way. Negatory.
But what if she declines? Annabeth is completely free to do that; but Percy would probably die of heartbreak. And if she started to date someone? Percy would explode.
It's settled, then.
He's going to confess.
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- a/n:
(re-uploaded to fix some mistakes, lol)
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