#shout out to my four favorite white women

[skyywest]

do y'all fuck with my placements?

#shenpai #demondice #snapcube #dev lemons #shout out to my four favorite white women

[belit0]

Madara and Indra tag-teaming the reader? Indra gets called back from the afterlife and takes offense that Madara is almost as good as he is. I love your writing! I binge read it all this afternoon! I'm so happy you write Indra, he's perfect!

Thank you very much for your words! Indra is absolutely my favorite, there is no one who can get to me like him!

I love that you like my work, and feel free to send as many requests as you want! Welcome to this beautiful corner of Uchiha perdition!

This was actually hard to picture, but bc I can't imagine both of them together lol.

I don't think both their egos would fit in the same room🤣.

Anyhow, sorry for taking so long to reply, but here we go!

Why would anyone call him from death, from eternal rest, to bring him to a present where his name is only a legend? Indra does not know, but such is the scene he encounters when opening his eyes for the first time in millions of years.

In his original body, but in his 24-year-old guise, the Otsutsuki awakens in the midst of a ritual. There is blood on his feet, a strange pattern drawn in peculiar intersections that don't seem to make sense, and four men he doesn't recognize looking at him expectantly.

His world spins as he tries to acknowledge the space, and understand he has been summoned to the world of the living again. "Very good... you did it, Tobirama. Now put him back where he came from." A man with long, black, prominent hair speaks with his arms crossed, looking at him with eyes he identifies as his own.

"Of course not. I just brought the most important piece of history we could get, adding I don't know how to release him either." Another jabbers angrily, with strange white hair and red marks on his skin.

"You brought my fucking grandfather and you have no fucking idea how to let him die again?!" A third man shouts in despair, very similar to the first guy, but smaller.

"He's not our grandfather, Izuna. He's our ancestor."

"We should bring our grandfather too, Tobi! It can be a great family reunion and-"

"Why would anyone rouse me from everlasting slumber without apparent reason... I'll get an immediate explanation right away, or else things will get bad." The Otsutsuki decides to interrupt the interaction impatiently, holding his head between both hands and trying to focus his gaze without his eyes hurting. He has no balance to get up from the ground, sitting up and trying to regain control of his body.

...

4 months have passed since Indra was forcibly brought back to life, and all he wants is to die again. People became progressively more stupid, having as idyllic proof this supposed descendant of his who goes by the name of Izuna. The young man keeps pestering him with uncomfortable questions about a life that no longer is, and the Otsutsuki does not know how to get rid of him.

The man who dared to bring him back, Tobirama, still can't find a way to reverse his jutsu, and works tirelessly every day to give him eternal rest again. Meanwhile, Indra decided to confine himself inside the current leader's house, and learn a bit of the current world through him.

Madara Uchiha, his supposed reincarnation, recounts an era of peace where his clan and his brother's became friends. The sole purpose of creating the Uchiha was an endless war against Ashura's family, and apparently, they had figured it out.

Outraged and dismayed, Indra constantly compares his power to that of the current leader and understands they opted for peace because power levels decreased over time. The only thing he and Madara have in common is the darkness of their thoughts, the shape of their hair, and their taste in women.

The Uchiha has a wife alarmingly similar to his own, both in attitude and appearance, and he ponders whether reincarnations are possible. (Y/N), he learns her name is, is both charming and submissive, perfect to his preference.

When the leader disappears for the day to attend to his work, Indra has convenient access to the woman and enjoys her quiet company. There is nothing like an obedient, non-fighting wife, and after seeing today's world, the Otsutsuki understands there isn't much of that anymore.

(Y/N) treats him like a king, attends to his every need, and genuinely respects him. Nothing gets his dick harder than a woman who knows her place.

Madara seems to notice his attraction to her, and after consulting with his wife, they decide to give him a gift of satisfaction before dying again. A night of passion, discreetly catalyzed and planned to perfection.

...

Indra walks through the corridors of the Uchiha house, trying to find a quiet place to meditate. His mind is a mess, he is tired, and all he wants is perpetual repose again. Overwhelmed by his situation, he wanders aimlessly, seeking release somehow.

He decides to try the first room he finds, and as he slides open the door, he comes across an image both provocative and scandalous. (Y/N) shamelessly touching herself while sucking Madara's cock. The Uchiha smirks, grabbing her roughly by the hair and pressing her against his pelvis, forcing her to swallow him completely as she masturbates.

Kneeling with her ass in the air, he has a perfect view of her wet pussy, and how her fingers slide in and out with need. "She looks like she needs help, doesn't she, Indra-Sama?" Madara asks sardonically, leading her to follow an overwhelming pace with her mouth.

"What is this... what are you implying-"

"A little parting gift. Tobirama figured out the formula, and you'll be going home tonight. One last indulgence is impossible to deny, isn't it?"

The Otsutsuki genuinely considers it, relieved for the torture to end and feeling a bulge growing between his pants. There's no denying the sight is beautiful, and that (Y/N) looks both inviting and predisposed to be fucked by whomever she's commanded.

He's never had a threesome, but as long as the Uchiha leader won't touch him, he'll have no problem abusing that beautiful cunt and claiming it as his own.

In a burst of arousal, he walks over to the bed, and with no words to say, makes quick work of his clothes. If the woman is anything like his wife used to be, she will accept being violently and angrily fucked, used as Indra sees fit and without complaining about it.

Positioning himself behind her, he penetrates her with a dry thrust, burying himself deep inside her and listening to her moan being muffled by the other man's cock. "Shit, (Y/N), no teeth, or there will be consequences."

A dark satisfaction runs through his mind at the thought of getting to punish her, to destroy her as he wishes, and his thrusts become brutal to the point of trying to make her lose control of her mouth. The woman cannot continue to move her head, and Madara grabs her by the hair to direct her to the pace he thinks necessary.

Both of them use her holes as they wish, taking her with abandon and making her scream all the way through. Indra will soon return home, and plans to take a good fucking before then.

#uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra x reader #indra x reader #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #indra otsutsuki #uchiha clan #otsutsuki indra #indra #naruto #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader

[the-badger-mole]

The Godmother of Grunge

If any time in the history of the US something really, truly innovative and cool took off, you will never go broke if you bet on a black person having had a hand (elbow, shoulder and foot) in it.

This is Tina Bell

(I know. Take a moment, drink in the awesome)

Tina Marie Bell was born in Seattle, WA in 1957. Like most black singers, she got her start as part of her church choir, where she honed her talent and her love of music. As she got older, her love of performing found her participating in her school's theater club, cheerleading, and eventually majoring in Drama at Washington State University.

After graduating college, Tina landed a spot with the Langston Hughes Performing Arts Institute, in the late 1970s. As she was preparing for a performance of her rendition of C'est Si Bon (a song which was performed by another black queen, Eartha Kitt). In order to make sure her French was strong enough for the song, she worked with a tutor named Tommy Martin- the man who would later become her bandmate and her husband.

In 1983, the pair would go on to form Bam Bam, with bassist, Scott Ledgerwood and drummer, Matt Cameron (who later went on to perform with Soundgarden and Pearl Jam). Bell was, of course, the lead singer, and her dynamic voice and unparalleled stage presence soon made her a staple in the Seattle music scene in the early 80s. Her ability to mix the smooth sultry sounds of her gospel and R&B background and the jarring sounds of punk garnered Bell and her band a lot of fans, including their roadie, Kurt Cobain. In 1984, one year before the band Green River would be credited with introducing a "new sound" to the Seattle music scene, Bam Bam recorded and released their first and, unfortunately only EP Villains (also wear white). Four years after that, Nirvana would release their debut album Bleach and the new musical genre, grunge, would be introduced to the rest of the world.

Why don't more people know about Tina Bell? C'mon...you know why more people don't know about Tina Bell. As a black woman moving in the largely white space of punk rock, Tina faced racism even as she became a star in the underground punk scene. At one particularly memorable show, bassist Ledgerwood recalls how a couple of skin heads came to harass Tina, shouting racial slurs and other verbal abuse at her. Tina stopped her set, whipped her microphone around and knocked both of them in the head (I WISH I COULD FIND A RECORDING OF THAT!!!!! I WOULD KILL!!!!!) before composing herself and delivering a fiery performance that I'm sure the people lucky enough to be in the audience that night still dream about.

The racism was latent as well as blatant. The industry didn't know what to do with a black woman who wasn't hip hop, r&b or pop. She drew comparisons to acts like Tina Turner (because they're both named Tina? 🤔) The inability of the public at large to accept the wild, otherworldly concept of a black woman singing rock music (even though black women also pioneered rock music) kept the band's star from rising much beyond the Seattle, in spite of their local popularity. Tina Bell quit the band in 1990, just as grunge, the musical genre she helped birth, was taking off. She moved from Seattle to Las Vegas, where in a turn that is all too common among talented artists, she fell into a cycle of alcoholism and depression. She died on October 10, 2012 at the tragically young age of 55, alone and literally written out of the history of the genre she had such a heavy hand in shaping.

Fortunately, that's not where her story ends. Through the efforts of fellow Seattle musician, Om Johari, Tina's son TJ Martin (who himself is an Academy Award winning filmmaker), and ex-bandmate, Scott Ledgerwood, Tina Bell is being restored to her rightful place as in history as the Godmother of Grunge.

Hear her music here, here, and here (my favorite)

#tina bell #bam bam #godmother of grunge #black history month #black history month spotlight friday #black friday #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

[panjakes]

Hello again! Can I please request another Ahn hyo-seop x female Ghanaian reader? Thank you.

(Fun fact(or not) when I was looking for pictures of Hyeoseop, when I scrolled down on the one on the left there were only pictures of black women under them✊🏽✨)

It was culture day at the office. You for an advertisement company. You enjoyed it, really you did, but it kind of operated like a high schools “spirt week”.

Every other month, a flyer was posted and there was something for everyday of the week.

Monday-Pattern day: wear plaid, strips, zigzag, etc

Tuesday-Disney day: wear something Disney inspired

Wednesday-Hat Day: Wear a hat of your choice

Thursday-Collage day: wear and support your favorite collage

Friday:Culture day: wear something from your collage

Today was Friday, and as the proud Ghanaian women you were, you got dressed in your best. Doing your hair and makeup. Just as you slid on your dress(example).

As you were applying your lipgloss Hyeoseop woke up walking into the walk in closet looking for you. He stops in his tracks seeing you at your vanity

He looks you up and down before walking over to you

“Goodmorning baby how’d you sleep?” You asks

“Fine. Where are you going?” He asks making you laugh

“Work” you say chuckling. You stand up from the vanity chair causing his jaw to drop

“Dressed like that!?” He asks making you frown

“What’s wrong with I have on?” He asks

“N-nothing your just…beautiful! How come you don’t dress like this when I take you out?” He asks making you chuckle

“Uh I don’t know” you say shrugging

He walks over to you pulling you in by the waist

“You get off work early today right?” He asks

“Yes, why?” You asks

“Cause we’re going out. You look to amazing to just go to work for four hours” he says making you laugh

“And where are we going?” You asks

“I don’t know yet, but I’m picking you up so you better get going before I make you late” he says smirking

“Oh really?” You say returning the smirk

“Yes really” he says bitting his lip at you

This wasn’t his first time seeing you in your cultural clothes but it had been a while since he had seen you like this

“Which shoes?” You ask holding up a pair of white and black heels

Hyeoseop looks at the two pair of shoes before pointing to the white ones. You look at them then him before nodding

“You dear husband have taste” you say expecting him to pick the black ones

“Thank you my darling wife” he says winking at you. You chuckle before hitting his arm

“I do not have time to play with you, messing around with you I’ll be late for work” Yn says walking past him to get her purse

“Don’t forget! I’m coming to get you!” He shouts

“I won’t!” You shout before walking out the door

“Ms.yn, your husband is in your office”

You look up at the clock. You didn’t clock out until 30 minutes he just couldn’t wait. You nod thanking the girl. You finish your copy’s and head back to your office

“You just couldn’t wait huh?” You ask opening the door

“I could. I just didn’t want to. I’m a very patient” he says making you scoff

“Patient my ass. Your a lot of things but patient isn’t in your pedigree” you say making his laugh

You peek over at his choice of clothing. A suit. He looked good enough to make you drool. But he’d never know that

“A suit? Where are we going?” You ask

“Somewhere fancy! You look to good to go to work and back home” he says getting up from your desk to walk over to you placing a kiss on your lips

“Is that so?” You ask

“Yup! Look so good I want to skip lunch and dinner. I want dessert” he says smirking

“Well very patient man, Dessert can wait” you say smirking

“Ah, but I don’t want to wait. We can get to dessert right now” he says running his hands down your curves

You smirking grabbing his hands putting them on your shoulders

“No touching” you say

“Why no touching?” He asks

“Because you don’t know how to just touch. You always want to do something else” you say raising a brow

“You can’t hold that against me…hold your body against me” he jokes. You chuckle pushing him away from you

“You are something else” you say shaking your head

You walk over to your file cabinet,putting the papers you just copied into them. When you turned around there stood Hyeoseop with a big ass bouquet of red and white roses

You smile from ear to ear at him

“Now how much did this cost?” You asks

“Doesn’t matter, my beautiful wife deserves beautiful roses” he says smiling

“Well aren’t you sweet” you say taking them from him

“Not as sweet as you” he says winking at you

You giggle for what had to be the 45th time today. Grabbing your purse,phone and flowers you head over to your door

“Ready for lunch husband?” You asks offering your arm

“Of course I am wife” he says linking his arm with yours.

With linked arms you two walked through the office and took the car where you tried to open the door.

Hyeoseop bumps you with his hip so he could open the door for you

“I just know you aren’t trying to open the door?” He says with a raised brow

“My bad.” You say shrugging

He opens the door still glaring at you

“My bad my ass…get your beautiful ass in the car” he says taking the bouquet of flowers from you. You chuckle sliding into the passenger seat.

He puts the flowers in the backseat before walking over to the drivers side and getting in

“Off to lunch we go!!” You say

“Yeah, just don’t put a hole in my pocket” he says

“Oh baby that’s exactly what I’m going to do! I’m ordering steak, salmon, shrimp!” You say making him sigh

“Ya know…I could go for some salmon too. Good choice baby” he says nodding

“Thank you” you say smiling

And with that you two were off to your fancy restaurant date.

#ambw fic #black reader #ambw #black girls are beautiful #black reader insert #kpop poc #kpop #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines

[wise-wolfie]

Appalachian 8 (NEW NAME) - Chapter 4:

Luck’s Rodeo

Word count - 1074

Character Count - 6045

Happy reading!

There they were, in the stands of the Elikan Central Arena, watching the chaos go down as the egotistical guys from their school were bucked off by the broncos and stepped on. Quite a funny sight, if I do say so myself. They were almost done with the men’s division. Almost time for Emmy to show up Alyssa Brown, the schools most “popular” group. The four thought they were quite basic, though.

“They’re kind of like the Ashleys in Recess.” Nathaniel rolled his eyes..

Zoie chuckled, “Yep, they don’t all have the same name though. But, they’re all basic white girl names.”

“Ashe, Alyssa, Melissa, Abby, Emily, yap yap yap. They can eat my shorts,” Emmy-Lou declared with confidence, “Personally, I think they’re gonna get a 20.7.”

“Em, I think you’re gonna get a 13.2,” Lillian said, a grin on her face as she high fived Emmy.

“Personally, I think you’re getting a 47.3,” Nash said.

Nash ain’t ever been to a rodeo, so he doesn’t know anything about scoring.

Charlie was about to explain how stupid that was, but Nash just hushed her and said, “Trust me, dude!”

The next guy came out on his bull, one hand in the air and the other on the steer.

“I think I recognize that kid,” Zoie said, squinting her eyes to see if she could see his face clearly.

“That's Buck Holloway,” Emmy said, her eyes watching him intently.

Each time he looked like he was close to falling off she looked away in anxiousness.

“You think he’s fine, don’t you Em?” Natalia giggled, laughing at her obvious crush, “Personally, I think he’s disgusting and vile.”

Emmy gave her a look of annoyance and a quiet “Yes…”

“Say it louder.”

“Alright, Yeah!” Emmy shouted, her aggravation bringing out the accent.

People around them gave the group a strange look. Emmy’s face went red with embarrassment.

“You know Ems,” Natalia whispered, “I’m pretty sure he could hear you too…”

“Alright, Natty, you know what? I hope he did!”

The crowd cheered as Buck stayed on the wild bull, refusing to fall off and lose to Steve Wilson, the “Popular” boy, who always won. Buck wasn’t new to rodeo whatsoever, yet Steve always showed him up. The whole group was watching. It was finally Buck’s turn to win. Steve had just gone before him, scoring a 23. The tension was rising, and then, suddenly, Buck finally fell off, with a solid score of 24.5. He finally beat his rival.

“WOOOOOOO!!!” Emmy yelled, throwing her hands up.

The crowd cheered, and the group clapped and watched how excited Em was. Now, it was finally the women’s division. In Rodeo, Emmylou did breakaway roping and barrel racing. Of course, her rival, Alyssa, was going first, on her jet black horse, Crow.

“That horse musta cost an arm an’ a leg,” Zoie whispered, her eyes wide staring at the beautiful, yet expensive horse.

“More than, probably. Ain’t none of us would ever be able to afford a horse like that,” Emmy replied.

“You know it’s daddy’s money, right Em?” Natalia remarked, laughing as the group joined in.

Alyssa started her run, going around all three barrels in a shocking score of 29.8. Surely there was something wrong with that horse. Or, Alyssa just can’t train any horse, expensive or not. If that was the case, nobody except her “popular” group would be surprised. Anyways, her run was over. It was time for Em’s.

“I don’t got no one to walk my horse out,” she realized, walking into the gates leading her horse, Sodapop, a chestnut horse named after her favorite character from The Outsiders, by S.E. Hinton.

“We gotta stay here, Ems. I’m sorry,” Lillian shook her head, frowning.

“Hey, it's alright, just have someone walk him out,” Charlie comforted, trying to cheer up the glum girl.

Emmy walked on with her horse, and asked everyone she could find, yet everyone declined. Buck had just finished his run and had returned to the gates.

“I can walk him,” Buck interrupted, grabbing on the reins.

“Oh.. Thanks, Buck,” Em said, blushing nervously.

It was obvious Buck noticed this.. But he just let her get on the horse so he could walk them out. He led her through the gates and said,

“You’ll do great,” Buck said, letting go of the reins.

Emmy while preparing to go murmured a simple thanks. It was time for her to go. The gates opened, and she ran. Just before she set off, though, she heard Buck’s voice behind her hollering,

“I heard you, Ems!”

The words sunk into her and she was confused.. But then she realized.

Buck Holloway knows how she feels about him.

She was filled with embarrassment, but couldn’t show it in front of the thousands in the arena. She rode on, circling one barrel flawlessly, then the next, and then the final barrel. She rushed towards the gate and passed through, Buck watching her score a 16.8, the quickest time she’d ever gotten before. Her friends, Zoie, Lillian, Natalia, Nathaniel, Charlie, and Nash, and even Buck, were all cheering in excitement. She got off of her horse, and took it by the reins. “Hey..” Buck said, awkwardly, smiling at her. Em wanted confirmation.

“You heard what I said.. about you? During your run?” She asked, running her fingers through her long, brunette hair. It was clear to him how nervous she was.

“EMS! BE CAREFUL! THEY CAN SMELL FEAR!” Natalia shouted, running up behind her and high fiving her.

“Nice score!” Zoie said, running up behind her and picking her up. Emmy started laughing, smiling at Buck.

“I’ll see you at school, Buck..” She said, taking out a napkin. She wrote her landline phone number on to it with a pen that Charlie tossed her. She handed the napkin to Buck, and said “Here!”

Buck took it from her and smiled.

“Thanks, Em.”

The group walked away, but then Lillian ran back and said,

“We’re studying the Appalachian forests.. Wanna tag along?” She said, smiling.

At first, he was reluctant, but then said, “Sure. Where at?”

“Meet us tomorrow, Elikan Central Library,” she replied.

“Okay!”

Lillian ran back to the group, smiling.

“EMS! I GOT YOU A DATE!”

“WHAT!!!!” She responded, her mouth wide open.

“Just kidding.. But he’s part of the group now,” Lillian said, giggling.

Emmy sighed, but said lightly, “Thank you.”

#appalachian8 #appalachian mountains #buckholloway #emmylouhendrix #nataliahart

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Just Another Night at The Iron Horseman Tavern and Inn; Or... We Told You So, Idiot!

It's a dark stormy night in the Capitol region, and Earthrealm's grumpiest pyromancer ninja wonders just what in the hells he walked into. Lucky for him, he's not the one in danger. Unlucky for a certain Edenian, HE pissed off the wrong Goddess too often.

Trigger warning: implied violence, extreme sarcasm

It's a rare rainy night here, and everybody had the same idea: get totally drunk. I'm having trouble keeping up with food and drinks and making sure everybody is getting along. After a few hurried rounds of honeyed wine, the purple clad nonce dressed like he just got off the pole at Marvelous Marvin's Male Menagerie is looking to get lucky. He's had 5 hard 'NO!'s, two 'Are you serious', and four drinks poured on him, but he's still trying. And, he's turned his sights on the tourists, having been rejected (rightly so, in my opinion) by every local woman here, myself included. But, as much as I should focus on the would be lothario, I have a new customer to tend to, and... I get the feeling I shouldn't leave him waiting. I go tend to our new guest.

Wow... did not expect to see the Grandmaster of the Shirai-Ryu here, but a man must eat, right? I set a place for him toward the corner, nice and relatively quiet. He sits, and I ask for his drink order.

"Tea." O-okay, man of few words.

"Green, black, oolong, chai, white, or something from our herbal tisane menu?"

"Matcha. Just bring me good hot water, no need to trouble yourself. I see you have... other matters that need attention."

"The guy dressed like a male concubine, yet strangely cannot seal the deal if he was the only man in the harem? I have a feeling I need not deal with him myself. Chances are, one of the ladies will deal with him. I'll have a word with him, I need to walk by the fool on the way to the kitchen. Please excuse me." I start to the kitchen, but stop by His Highness. I grab his arm, seeing whom his next target was. Sure enough, Lady Sigyn was at the next table, quietly sipping tea, not bothering anyone, nose in a book.

"Don't. Whatever you have in mind, don't do it. We're not into you. Walk away before you get hurt, because the Norse do not muck about." He looks like he was about to say something, takes a look around, sees the ninja, goes pale. I let go, he backs off, I go put a kettle on for tea.

And... not before I even finish putting the kettle on the stove, I hear a man scream, followed by a loud thump. I rush out to see... Lady Sigyn, book in hand, looking very angry, dragging the offending letch out of the inn, knocked out cold. The women are cheering her, and Grandmaster Hasashi is looking both impressed and wary of my new favorite patron. The horn dog wakes up just as they cross the doorway.

Every woman in the tavern, myself included, shout at the top of our lungs...

"WE TOLD YOU SO, IDIOT!" Idiot is then dragged outside. We can hear the sounds of the poor fool's 'reeducation' from inside as he gets a painful lesson. The kettle whistles, I bring the Grandmaster his tea water, and the night goes on.

Never saw the idiot again after that, but he's still out there. We tavern girls talk shop a lot whenever we meet. Last week, Maggie at the Gilded Lotus said he got slapped by every working girl in the place, twice. In one night. And still dresses like a male exotic dancer.

#mortal kombat fandom #mortal kombat #mortal kombat fanfiction

[letannabethchasesayshit]

Summary: Ripley Curbello's father always told her how she was born of the night sky. As it turns out, he was telling her the truth. She is the Daughter of Nyx, Greek Goddess of the Night. After Ripley's father is killed, she is sent on the run. She is all alone but not for long. She finds Annabeth Chase, Thalia Grace, and Luke Castellan. All four of them lost their families or were rejected. All four were alone, but they found love and family together. It was the four of them against the world and Ripley thought it always would be. Ripley must grapple with finding a family, losing them, and her fear of herself. All rational people are afraid of the dark, and Ripley is not different.

Fandom: Percy Jackson

Read on AO3 here

Part 6/14

Chapter Six: Achievement Acquired: Childhood Trauma

“I thought you said your Mom was dead!” Annabeth shouted.

She and I were having difficulty keeping up with Luke as he sprinted through the town. Perhaps it came from his Hermes lineage, perhaps it was worry for his friend, but I swear Luke flew across those streets. We nearly lost him several times before he shouted for us.

“She is,” Luke took a sharp corner, “The Mom I knew died years ago- she was taken from me when I was just a baby.”

“Then- who are we going to see?”

“Her ghost.”

Annabeth and I didn’t have time to seek answers with each other. One look at Thalia, and I knew our time was getting even shorter. Her skin was steadily losing color as she bounced like a ragdoll against Luke’s chest. The blood seeping through her wound had slowed, it seemed like Luke’s jacket was doing some good afterall, but even that would only do so much. She needed something more permanent.

The house Luke took us to seemed to jump straight out of revolutionary times. The Colonial build was the only thing on an entire acre of land. Trees grew vines and bushes spiraled out of shape. As we got closer, I could see the green curtains covering every window. Most had turned into shreds by then, like bead curtains.

Perhaps the most peculiar thing were the stuffed animals lining the porch. I saw creatures I would never want to see living. Hydras, minotaurs, lions, gorgons, and several other creatures of Greek myth lined the porch. Some had been there longer than others and had sprouted their own forest within their fur. The hydra had another head made out of a daisy.

When we crossed the property line, a voice came from the sky, “You shouldn’t have returned.”

I subconsciously grabbed Annabeth’s arm. The voice was distinctly male and full of power. I knew it had to be the voice of a God despite never hearing one before that moment. It shook me to my very core, rattling my bones like a maraca within my flesh. My fingers became numb and all I wanted to do was turn away. I gripped tightly to Annabeth’s arm as my voice shook, “Luke?”

“It’s alright,” Luke hesitated on his way to the porch, “That’s just- it doesn’t matter, we have to help Thalia.”

He marched right up to the porch without a single care in the world. Annabeth pulled out her knife while I grabbed my spear. Luke looked over his shoulder, shaking his head ever so slightly.

Luke’s last name, Castellan, was written on the door in both English and Ancient Greek. Oddly, I found the Ancient Greek much easier to read. Papa used to tell me my dyslexia made English hard, but that I would one day find something easy.

Luke knocked on the door with his foot. It didn’t take long for the door to swing open and a woman to exclaim, “Luke! I knew you would come back!”

She flung her arms around Luke’s shoulders, completely ignoring Thalia in his arms. She was waking up by then and seemed vaguely annoyed that the women disregarded her entirely. I could see her rubbing her eyes beyond the woman’s cardigan.

This woman reminded me of all the scientists from my favorite books. She had pure white hair that went in every possible direction as if it wanted to get away from her. Every color she wore clashed as if she had chosen them specifically to stand out. I could have sworn her shoes were on the wrong feet.

Despite this, all I wanted to do was run up and hug her. The pure relief in her face when she saw her baby come home was enough to make me want to cry. This was a mother who loved her son with all that she was.

“Mom,” Luke’s voice was deadpan, “My friend needs help, a hellhound ripped up her leg.”

“Oh, of course, come in, my dear. It’s almost lunchtime, I made your favorite!” she stepped aside and let the four of us move through.

The very first thing I noticed were the tupperware containers on the table. There must have been at least a hundred, they barely fit on the table. Some had only just started to go green, others had jelly and peanut butter oozing out in the most unappetizing manner. Empty Kool Aid containers cluttered the cabinets and I could smell burning cookies.

Ms. Castellan ran to the counter and began to make four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. As she made the sandwiches, Luke led all of us into the living room. Thalia had woken up by then, “Luke, where are we?”

“My house,” Luke responded.

“What? Why?”

“Thals, you’re bleeding out.”

“I’m fine, I’ve had worse.”

Thalia was still a bit groggy but that didn’t stop her stubbornness. No amount of exhaustion could stop her need to always be right. Annabeth and I flanked Luke on either side. I grabbed Thalia’s dangling hand, “Thalia, the hellhound almost ripped your leg clean off!”

“Yeah, we saw it!” Annabeth added, “You’re gonna need stitches.”

“I don’t need stitches, I need to leave,” Thalia argued.

Luke took the corner to the living room and froze right in the doorway. Annabeth and I were stuck behind him. The two of us ended up looking right between his legs at the figure standing in the middle of the living room.

The first thing I noticed were his joggers. His entire outfit was bright blue like he had plucked it right out of the summer sky. I half expected him to start quoting the Godfather, instead he broke out into a sly grin. All his features were pointed like an elf, but they complimented him perfectly. I couldn’t imagine this man any way but pointed. His gaze was mischievous but serious too, like he knew when a joke had gone too far.

“Father,” Luke’s voice was completely deadpan.

Thalia, Annabeth, and I all jerked our heads to look at Luke. Hermes bore his gaze into his son, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“This is my house,” Luke slowly moved into the living room to sit Thalia on the couch.

“You don’t belong here.”

Ms. Castellan came barreling into the living room with a laugh. In one hand, she had a plate with four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches ready and waiting to go. In the other, a pitcher of Kool Aid. Several cups were tucked under her arm as well as a First Aid Kit under her other arm. Grinning, she announced, “Lunch time!”

She handed the plate of sandwiches to Thalia before setting the Kool Aid down on the coffee table. Thalia passed the sandwiches to Annabeth and I as Ms. Castellan sat in front of her. She pulled out antiseptic, gauze, band aids, and a sewing kit and quickly got to work.

The whole time, Luke and Hermes did not stop staring at each other. Their glares could have easily burned the entire house down. I pushed myself onto the couch to sit next to Thalia as Hermes said, “Come, my son, we need to talk.”

Luke didn’t argue. He followed his father onto the back porch, allowing the door to slam shut behind them. I could barely see them through the blinds, their shadows seemed to be far away.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” I asked, my mouth full of sandwich.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, dear,” Ms. Castellan tossed the alcohol pad she was using to clean Thalia’s wound in the nearby candle jar, “It’s impolite.”

“Sorry, Ms. Castellan.”

“Whatever it is, they better get done fast,” Thalia winced as Ms. Castellan began to stitch her wound, “We need to get out of here.”

“We can’t leave until your wound is stitched,” Annabeth argued.

She got on her knees to pour each of us a cup of Kool Aid. Thalia took an angry sip of the drink, “My wound isn’t our biggest worry.”

“I dunno, Thals, it’s pretty deep,” I wrinkled my nose as I looked at her thigh.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve had worse.”

“Why do you want to leave so bad?” Annabeth asked.

“We don’t belong here, Annie,” Thalia responded, “We walked into the living room and saw a God, you think that’s normal?”

Annabeth frowned, “No…”

“Exactly. Whatever this is, it can’t be good, and I’d rather get out of the state as soon as we can.”

I glanced at the two shadows that were Luke and Hermes. They were moving rapidly, as if they were arguing or trying not to argue. I could see Luke fling up his hands and hear the slight rumble of his voice. The ground shook slightly and I began to wonder if it was his voice I was hearing.

“There!” Ms. Castellan stood before gasping, “Oh! The cookies! Luke loves cookies.”

She left all of her first aid supplies, including the bloody gauze, on the coffee table as she rushed into the kitchen. All three of us watched her go, some of us more suspicious than others.

“Luke said his Mom died,” Annabeth muttered, “He said we were visiting her ghost.”

Thalia sighed, “In a way, he’s right. He doesn’t like to talk about it, he only told me once.”

“Told you what?”

“His Mom, she could see through the Mist. She thought it made her special.”

“What’s the Mist?” I asked.

“It’s the veil between our world and the mortal world,” Thalia explained, “It’s the magic that keeps them from seeing the monsters. Mortals are easily duped, they always see what they want to see.”

Thalia paused, looking off towards the kitchen, “Luke said she thought she had a destiny. She offered herself up to be the Oracle of Delphi when Luke was just a baby and- well- it didn’t go the way she thought.”

“The Oracle of Delphi? Apollo’s oracle?” Annabeth asked.

I glanced between them, “Wait- the what now?”

“The Oracle can see the future, she’s the one who gives heroes their quests,” Thalia explained, “I don’t know who or what Ms. Castellan wanted to take the oracle from, maybe from nothing, I don’t know. What I do know is it made her go crazy. She’d have episodes, chanting about some crazy fate and spouting all sorts of nonsense at Luke. He just couldn’t take it anymore so- he ran away.”

Annabeth was totally absorbed in Thalia’s story. I furrowed my eyebrows, “What kind of fate?”

“I don’t know, Luke wouldn’t talk about it,” Thalia frowned, “Whatever it is, we won’t be staying long enough to figure it out.”

Part of me wondered if that had anything to do with Hermes telling Luke he shouldn’t have come home. Perhaps it was even the reason the two of them were having a heated conversation on the porch. I turned my gaze to the door just in time to see it fling open.

Luke stormed in and I had to do a double take. For a moment, I didn’t believe that it was really Luke. He seemed like a totally different person carrying a darkness he didn’t have before. I could sense the heavy burden on his heart and the suffering he carried with him.

“Come on,” Luke stepped up to us just as Hermes came into the house, “We’re leaving.”

“Son, please-” Hermes tried.

“No! I don’t want to hear it,” Luke interrupted, “Come on. Thalia, Annabeth, Ripley, we’re leaving.”

Thalia stood, “About time.”

She took a step forward and would have fallen over if it weren’t for Luke. He jammed one of his shoulders under her arm. Wrapping his arm around her back, he began to help her to the front door, “Come on you two.”

Annabeth didn’t hesitate in following them. I was just behind her before I paused at the door. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Hermes staring off where his son had just vanished. I never thought a God could look so sad, it was as if he were attending Luke’s funeral before he even had a chance to prove himself otherwise. Hermes saw me staring and smiled, “Good luck, Ripley Curbello.”

“Ripley!” Luke’s voice echoed from the front door, “Come on!”

I spun on my heel and sprinted after my friends.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo #riordanverse #annabeth chase #thalia grace #luke castellan #oc

[ilsangdo]

WELCOME TO YOUR HOME AWAY FROM HOME!

beyond the sandy shores there’s a storm brewing, and KANG SEOJUN (he/him), a twenty-four year old SOFTWARE DEVELOPER has walked right into it. perhaps they aren’t aware of it now, but the JEON JUNGKOOK ( bts ) look-alike is in for quite the memorable experience. will our beloved TOWNIE be able to enjoy their stay?

be careful where you step KANG SEOJUN, for HUMANS seem to be a little less welcomed here. and remember, here at ilsang, things aren’t always what they seem.

tw: abuse? financial and verbal, toxic relationship

I. BOUND BY BLOOD

In this world, there was no Kang Seojun without his father, Kang Sangjun. The eldest and only son of a multi-millionaire, Seojun was nothing but a shadow in his father’s presence– forever tethered to the man who has ruined his life.

He couldn’t remember a time when he had actually enjoyed being around his father. Since birth, his father made it clear that he only married Seojun’s mom to keep the public quiet about Seojun nearly being born out of wedlock. And, well, Seojun was a carbon copy of his mother, so if there was no love for his mother then there was no love for Seojun.

Sometimes he wished the pictures of his family in the news articles smiling were something more than fanservice. Often times he’d stay over at his friend’s houses just to see what a real family looked like and wondered if someday his family could be like this too. Then, other times, he would press his ear against the cold walls of his bedroom to remind himself that his dreams were far out of his reach.

“He’s just a kid! Why can’t you just be supportive of him? Just this once?”

“He’s going to have to grow up eventually! In the real world, there’s no one there to pat your back when you fail to win first place. No one will be there at the end of the race to hand you a participation trophy–”

“You’re his father! It’s your job to–”

“It’s my job to raise him right. And my son isn’t going to be raised to accept some plastic medal like some fucking loser– god…fuck! Because of you, my son will grow up to be a punk bitch. But as long as he gets a fucking participation trophy, right?”

As a kid, Seojun would listen to his parents fight so much it became white noise for when he fell asleep. And when his birthday rolled around each year, his one wish would be that his family would be a real family the next year.

That never happened.

II. PLAYING THE GAME

His father set the rules, and, in order the keep his family together, Seojun played fairly. If his father wanted straight A’s on a report card, Seojun would return home with not one red mark in sight. If his father wanted Seojun to ‘be more of a man’, Seojun would take all of his emotions and bottle them up deep inside himself. And if Seojun’s father needed Seojun to cover up his drunken mess for him to hide the dark truths of his own actions– well– Seojun would spend the entire night cleaning up the broken wine glass and articles of women’s clothing from the back of his dad’s car. He would do anything to please his dad, only if it meant keeping his own mother happy and safe.

“I’m home!” Seojun’s mother shouted from the hallways, “Do I smell kalguksu? You guys made dinner already?”

Before Seojun’s father could even say anything to make his mother walk out the door again, Seojun interjected.

“Yeah, dad made it all by himself.”

“He did? That doesn’t sound like him…”

“Well, I just wanted to make it up to you, I know we haven’t been seeing eye to eye lately…so…this is your favorite, right? You should eat, I’m sure traveling tired you out.”

All you could hear was the clanking sound of dinnerware as the tension in the room began to suffocate them all.

“Did you guys have fun this weekend without me? You guys got along well?”

“Well, I–”

“Yeah, dad and I went golfing. It was fun.”

“Oh..that’s nice. I’m glad you two were able to bond this week.”

He hated lying to her, but he would be a fool to break the rules of the game. If he wasn’t his father’s perfect puppet, then what was he good for? If he couldn’t protect his mother’s heart, what kind of son would that make him?

III. WE CRY TOGETHER

She wasn’t supposed to come home from her trip to Busan early. In fact, both Seojun and his dad thought she was supposed to return the following week.

“I can’t stand you!” His mom screamed, “How could you? I trusted you! And around our son too? Does Seojun know about your little affairs?”

Seojun wasn’t sure of the exact scenario that was occurring in the living room, but he didn’t need a visual to know that his father’s back was against the wall.

“I-”

“No. No more! I’m packing my things and leaving. You can keep this fucking house– God, I should have never come back to begin with! You’re disgusting and–”

“Well you aren’t so perfect either! Do you think I’m happy to even have you as a wife? You were a fucking mistake to begin with. You and that god awful son of yours–”

“Don’t you dare talk about our son like that!”

“May as well! He looks like you– acts like you too! A bitch–”

“That’s enough! I’m leaving– and..I’m taking him with me!”

“Go ahead! But you’ll see, you need me.”

All Seojun could hear were the breaths of his two parents.

“Yeah, that’s right. You two need me. Go ahead, leave! Run to your mother’s house. I’m sure she’ll send you crawling right back when she realizes how much debt you all will have once Seojun’s college loans roll in. Oh, and I’ll be sending a bill too– for all the shit I bought for the two of you. Let’s see who wants to fucking leave then.”

That night Seojun’s mom came to his room with her eyes full of tears. The pain in Seojun’s chest was too much to bear, but what more could he do than to be brave for her? He had to keep being the light in her life; he had to keep being strong.

“I love you so much, Seojunnie. You know that?” His mother sniffled, resting her head on his shoulder as the two embraced.

“Of course. I love you too.”

“Never leave my side, promise you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise.”

IV. UNTIL I FOUND YOU

Seojun didn’t believe in love until he found Jia.

“...And, you see, Ohms law tells us that the electric current– so I – is directly proportional to the voltage– so V–...”

She wasn’t listening, and part of him didn’t care. He enjoyed watching her hair fall to her cheeks as she tried to pretend to care about what he was saying. Seeing the way her eyes sparkled looking into his, he wanted to suppress his emotions, but this time he couldn’t. With his heart racing uncontrollably, it was hard to even focus on preparing her for her next physics exam. Every fiber of his being wanted her, and so, for the first time in his entire life, he took a chance for his own happiness.

And, before he could even move on to the next step of the equation, he found his lips crashed against hers– his hands gently cupping the soft skin on her cheeks as if his lips weren’t ten steps ahead of them.

V. THE UNTETHERING

“I want to marry her– I want to marry Jia.” Seojun proclaimed at the dinner table, which was unpleasantly met with silence. His mother, although very approving of their relationship, avoided his gaze in order to keep the peace.

“No.” His father answered sternly.

“No?”

“No, she’s not good for you.”

“Not good for me? What does that even mean? What has she ever done to you?”

“Well, I’m not saying she’s ever done anything to me, but, well– you know how the articles would spin it– ‘heir of multi-millionaire, Kang Sangjun, finds love through boring university girl’...is that the kind of image you want? Someone who settles for less?”

“Less?”

“Yeah, less. I mean– what does she really bring to the table?”

“She loves me, that should be enough.”

“What can love buy you?”

Seojun doesn’t remember much more about that night; in fact, he tried his best to forget it all.

All he remembers is one minute he was at the dinner table and, the next, he packed his own bags, getting ready to tell Jia his elaborate plan for their escape from their families.

“Let’s run away.”

“Seojun, it’s 3 AM.”

“No, no. Listen. I love you so much, you know that, right? I love you so much, and I’d be stupid to waste my whole life waiting for the right moment to tell you this. I know I’m a coward, and I’m not one to take many chances, but this time I’m ready. I’m ready to take the leap, Jia, please.”

“What are you talking about–”

“Xu Jiali, will you marry me?”

“What?”

“Let’s get out of here, just you and me. I’m serious, Jia. I love you more than anything. There's not one day that goes by that I'm not grateful that our lives crossed paths. And, truthfully, if one day I woke up and you weren't there, I wouldn't know what I'd do...So what do you say?”

“Yes.”

Her answer liberated him. He no longer cared what if father thought; nothing else mattered as long as he had her. No matter where they ended up, Seojun was just happy that he would be spending the rest of his life with the one person who truly loved all of him, the good and the ugly. And, with their suitcases packed and a flier that read 'ILSANG! YOUR HOME AWAY FROM HOME!' he drove off to start his new life with Jia.

#ilsfollow #ils:sunflower

[the-broken-truth]

A Returning Heart - Alcina Dimitrescu x Male Character

Summary: The Bloodline of House Dimitrescu has been destroyed by Ethan Winters, but will it remain that way? A cloaked figure approached the castle with one thing in mind - Can love transcend death?

Quick Note: The Explosion didn't destroy the Castle or that area of the village. Also, the male will not be given a name.

"Here are your purchases, My Lord." The Duke smiled as he handed 4 horizontal boxes out to the cloaked figure before him who took them in his arms but set the 3 smaller boxes down before opening the longest box. The cloaked man opened the long box - the Duke could see a long smile on the man's face as he gazed into the contents of the box before sealing the lid on it again.

"Perfect. What can you tell me about the other lords? Do you have their remains as well?" The man asked.

"But of course - after Ethan Winters killed the lords, he sold their remains to me for a fair amount of Lei. Would you like theirs as well?" Duke asked with a smile.

"Not at this moment. Once I make sure everything is in order, I shall come back for the remaining lords. And what of Miranda & the mutamycete?" The man asked.

"No longer in existence, My Lord. Ethan Winters and his company completely destroyed them - as well as the other Lords' Domains with the limitation of Lady Dimitrescu Castle and the Central and Northern Villages." Duke said.

"I'll take care of that as well." The man said as he reached down and gathered all of the boxes in his arms and started his way up the path to the grand castle that still stood.

"This is going to be interesting," Duke said as he got his notebook to make note of this. "It's not everything someone like that comes to the village."

[At Castle Dimitrescu]

The figure pushed the metal door of the castle open with one hand while the other held the boxes to his side. He looked around the room he now stood in before cracking a smile.

'Not much has changed.' He chuckled to himself before he made his way through the castle until he reached Castle Dimitresc's Hall of the Four (The Location where the masks go.). He opened the first box and gazed upon its contents before reaching in and pulling out the crystalized remains of The Royal Dragon - Alcina Dimitrescu, herself. He smiled at the crystal remains for a while before he placed them in the center of the room before going back to the other 3 boxes and opened them - showing 3 crystals torso that was small than Lady Dimitrescu's but each one had a gem placed in their chests - the first one he picked up bore a red gem.

'Bela.' the man thought as he placed the red-gemmed torso next to Alcina's. He back to the other two and picked up the second one - which bore a yellow gem.

'Cassandra.' He thought before placing it next to the other two in the center of the hall. He rose to his feet again and gathered the last one - a green gem in the chest of its chest.

'Daniela.' He echoed in his mind before placing it with the others.

Once they were all in place - he lifted his right hand which was engraved with runes of an unknown language. He cleared his throat before he spoke in Romanian.

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." The runes on his arm began to glow a blinding white light when a circle surrounded each of the remains and consumed them in a pillar of blinding light. The man watched and waited until he saw the remains float and take new form - this made him smile widely.

[About 3 Hours Later.]

A feminine groan filled the air of the Castle Main Hall has eyes began to flutter open, revealing a gold hue. The woman allowed her eyes to readjust to see - she was on a familiar floor. She pushed herself off the ground before groaning again and placing her hand on her head.

"My head...What happened? The last thing I remembered was..." Her eyes widened as memories began flooding back in her mind.

The meeting with her family.

Her daughters bringing her that Man-Thing.

The man-thing escaping and killing her eldest.

The pain she felt of loss.

Hunting that man-thing over and over again before he killed her last two daughters.

Tracking him to the chapel but getting stabbed with the dagger.

Then...dying.

"He killed me... I know he did, but then..." She looked at her hands. "How am I alive?" Alcina wondered as she tried to find an answer. Sudden movement at her right made her eyes dart and widen - instant tears filled them.

"My head...What happened?" the young girl asked.

"BELA!" Alcina said as she scurried to her daughter and engulfed in her a hug; surprising the girl who returned the hug.

"M...Mother?" Bela asked as she looked into Alcina's golden eyes.

"I'm here, little one; Momma's here now." Alcina said as she held her daughter more.

Bela looked behind her mother and her eyes widened.

"Mother - Cassandra and Daniela!" Bela said making Alcina look behind her to see her middle child and youngest also wake up. Alcina and Bela gathered the other two in hugs and all of them hugged and cried for at least 30 minutes before rising to their feet.

"I don't get it." Daniela began. "That man-thing killed us. How are we here?" She asked.

"Dani's right - I remember dying." Bela said.

"Then I ended up dying trying to avenge Bela." Cassandra said.

"And I died the library when that man-thing got the Iron Key." Daniela finished.

"That accursed man-thing stabbed me the Dagger of Deaths Flowers and managed to defeat my dragon form. How are we all here? Did Mother Miranda bring us back to life?" Alcina asked.

"I'm afraid Miranda had nothing to do with this - she can't do anything now that she's dead." A male voice called out. The women looked at the top of the stairs leading to the foyer and saw a figure dressed in a cloak with his face covered - only having the lower part of his chin showing.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my castle?!" Alcina demanded as she called forth her dragon's claws.

Broken Truth: That's what I like to call them. The whole 'A Rat can't escape the dragon's claw' was one of my favorite lines in the game; along with 'CASSANDRA!'.

"Calm yourself, Lady Dimitrescu." the male said as he raised his hand to silence her but that only made her angrier.

"You don't tell me what to do in my own castle, you stupid man-thing!" Alcina snarled.

"Geez and here I thought you would be grateful to the one who brought you and your daughters back to life." That made all their eyes widen.

"You brought us back?" Bela asked.

"Wait - why would you do that? Where're the other lords? Where's Mother Miranda?!" Alcina demanded to know.

"As I have said before - Miranda and the other lords are dead, just as the mutamycete no longer exists. Ethan Winters killed you, your daughters, and all the lords before taking out Miranda and destroyed the mutamycete before taking back that which was his." The man said from his place at the top of the stairs.

"That's impossible... All of our hard work - undone by a stupid male?!" Alcina snarled. "That doesn't explain why you brought me and my daughters back to life." Alcina said.

"Let's say - I was bringing back that which was once mine." The man said as he slowly started his way down the stairs. "A long time ago - I took up residence in this place as a loyal servant and became something more but short-minded humans came here to destroy you and those you held dear but I refused to let that happen and to save 4..." the male stopped at the bottom of the stairs and pulled the hood off - revealing his face: short brown hair, with emerald green eyes, and a familiar scar across his face. "I threw myself on the blade to keep my loved ones safe." He smiled at the wide eyes on the daughters' faces, as well as the tears that began to build in the dragon's eyes. He held his arms open in a welcoming manner. "I've returned to you, my family."

"FATHER/PAPA/DADDY!!!" The shouts of the daughters rung out as they ran into the male's arms, who held them as if they were something precious.

"It's okay, girls. I'm here now."

"I don't understand..." Alcina said as she tried to hold back her tears. "I saw you die - you threw yourself on the sword to save me from getting killed." Alcina said as she walked over to the group.

"I've been reborn since the time I lost you - while in this body, I attended a school and learned about dragons; that reminded me of you, awoke the memories of my past life and my bond to you. I was determined to return to you but I knew I had to become more so I trained myself in the arts of magic. It was a good thing too - when I learned about what happened, I had the skills to return that which I lost back to the world of the living." He explained.

Alcina looked into his eyes - those eyes darker than the tree's leaves during summer - the last time she saw them, they were as dull as sandstone but they were before her again.

He was here.

He was with her again.

And he gave back what she lost.

"MY LOVE!" Alcina fell to her knees and hugged the man and her daughters in one hug. She didn't want to let go of him; scared that this was all a dream and she was never going to see him again, that all of this would fade away and she would be back in the nothingness again.

"Shh...It's okay, Alci." He said as he began to wrap his arms around her neck to hug her for the first time in centuries. "I'm here, My Dragoness, and I shall not leave you or our daughters again." And this time - he was intending on keeping that promise.

Translation

"Din amurg până în zori. Din carne, sânge și os. Din aceste fragmente fragile, poruncesc - întoarce-te la care ai fost odată și mergi din nou pe acest pământ." - From dusk until dawn. From flesh, blood, and bone. From these fragile fragments, I command - return to which you once were and walk this earth again.

#alcina x oc #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil 8 #alcina x male #lady dimitrescu x reader

[abbysfrenchbraid]

hi! i love all of your writing, especially your abby fanfics. i know you’re in the middle of your eivor series right now, so pls disregard if you don’t feel like writing this request or don’t want to write for abby, but i was wondering if you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type imagine where abby either comforts the reader when they’re sad or after they have a nightmare. i get really frequent nightmares and love to read fanfics like this but totally understand if you’re not into the idea. all the love and i hope you’re doing well; merry christmas if you celebrate!

so this is half a year late, but I finally have a little more time to go through my requests so here it is! this is also the first time I've actively avoided gendering the reader as I've gotten a few requests for a nonbinary or genderfluid reader. This is not a cop-out on that, I definitely want to write an explicitly nb reader but I figured this would make the reading experience better for quite a few people!

Summary: The reader has recently lost a family member and stranded with the WLF. They struggle with frequent panic attacks and nightmares. Abby notices and tries to take care of them.

CW for loss of a family member (sibling), death and grief, heavy trauma, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, and struggling to breathe. The nightmares are also fairly violent and creepy so please watch out for yourselves and only read this if you're in a good state of mind <3

I've Got You

The truck rattled as Leah drove it up the road to the WLF stadium. It had been a particularly rough day on patrol. You and the other wolf had run into a group of freshly infected that seemed to have been three families once. The children had been the worst. The youngest had probably been about ten years old before she had turned, her eyes bright blue and her blonde curls matted with dried blood. You had taken care of them all, of course you had. But it had been horrible. You folded your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.

You had joined the WLF a few months ago after losing your team and your little sister in a clicker-infested cellar you had set up camp in. It had been so fucking stupid, so careless. But everyone had been tired, you hadn’t seen any infected in days, and so only one of you had kept watch. He barely had time to scream before the clicker had ripped out his throat. It had been chaos, madness, everyone scrambling to escape into the network of damp corridors and storage rooms, more and more clickers being drawn to you by the noise.

Leah raised her hand at the armed guards at the gate and they opened for your truck. The sun was setting behind you and most people were inside the stadium now, eating or spending time with friends. Both of you were quiet. Leah’s legs were covered in slowly darkening blood and the smell was nauseating. The tall wolf pulled the truck into its designated spot and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?” You looked up at her. The circles under her eyes could compete with yours, but her face was still as kind as ever.

“Yeah?”

“You take care of yourself today. Take a long shower, get something to eat. I’ll let Martha know to give you a double portion for dinner.”

You smiled faintly at her. This was how it was here. All the wolves had seen terrible things and probably done even worse. They all chose to let it out in training and then leave it behind them. No sense in holding on. You nodded.

“Thanks, Lee. See you in the gym tomorrow.”

The brunette grinned and patted your thigh.

“6 am sharp!” She jumped out of the car and gave back the keys at the checkpoint, then she vanished inside the stadium.

You stayed in your seat. Your fingers had cramped up and you were scared to unfold them, scared you would never be able to stop them from shaking again.

Sierra had held your hand all the way, not letting go as you dragged her through the darkness, fought off four infected, stumbled up stairs you had not come down on, and found yourself in a ravaged theater. You had run all night and only stopped when you were unable to go a single step further. When you had found a small pawnshop that you could lock up safely, you had made a bed of your jacket and a moth-eaten blanket from the theater. Sierra had started to cry. You would never forget the way dread had started to creep into your limbs, seeping into your skin and stretching dark tendrils toward your throat. You had rolled up Sierra’s sleeve and there it was. A relatively small mark, just the puncture wounds from two teeth turned into mean scratches as Sierra had pulled her arm from the jaws of a clicker and kept on running. But it had already begun to fester, the edges of the wound an angry red contrasting the white blisters forming around the site. It felt like the ground had been pulled from below your feet. You fell and fell, unable to speak, to do anything, just staring at the thing that meant the end of the world. The end of your baby sister.

A shout caught your attention - another car had returned to the stadium and was pulling into a spot a few paces away. It was Manny and Abby, everyone’s favorite duo. The attractive joker and the stoic warrior. They were among Leah’s best friends and she had introduced them to you a while ago, all of them welcoming you warmly. It had been strange, being part of a group again, a team. Your heart was still too sore.

So you had quietly pulled yourself out of most of the group evenings, the film nights and game nights and arm wrestling tournaments and what else there was to do. Manny had tried his luck flirting with you a few times and one time you had even joined him for a dance, but after realizing he wouldn’t land with you he had respectfully backed off and now treated you more like a little sister. Mel and Owen had been nice, too, both very secluded when they turned up together, but Owen was funny and enthusiastic and always yelled your name across the cafeteria or the training course when he saw you. He was one of the few people who could make you laugh no matter how hard you tried not to.

Nora was a whirlwind, the smartest person you had ever known and unfaltering no matter what the universe threw at her feet. She liked poetry and hard rock music, big men and even bigger women. You had often wondered whether she and Abby had ever hooked up. But you weren’t sure of anything concerning Abby. Always the stony face, the impenetrable wall, the arms-length smile and polite nod in the hallway. It could be infuriating at times. Especially because despite it all, against all your better judgment, you could feel yourself growing more and more interested in her, constantly looking for her in a crowd and sneaking side glances to see if she was listening to you or laughing at the same things.

The car doors banged and the sound echoed through the small space. Manny was laughing about something Abby had said and walked with a bounce in his step as he approached the counter to hand back his keys. Abby looked like she always did, khaki cargo pants and a black cutoff, her green backpack slung over one muscular shoulder. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and curled up at the back of her neck, slightly damp from her sweat in the hot summer air. Trying to calm down and distract yourself, you let your gaze wander up her strong build, freckled biceps flexing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. And then she looked straight at you. You didn’t move, stayed frozen as you had for the last few minutes, wishing you were invisible.

Your face felt hot and suddenly there were tears blurring your vision - what was happening?! Your knees started shaking as well, bouncing uncontrollably as your nails dug into the backs of your hands. Your throat was closing up and your bottom lip was quivering. All you saw were specks of grey and green, all you felt was your body resisting every command and rebelling against you, trying to hold you in place and suffocate you silently.

Suddenly the door opened beside you and a soft, deep voice said your name. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision wouldn’t clear up, panic blinding you further. You began shaking your head as your chest convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, okay.” Abby’s voice was determined and suddenly her hands were on your wrists. Her skin was warm and dry, her grip firm. She softly shook your clasped hands and somehow moved so her face was in front of yours, a mess of green and brown and there, soft pink where her lips moved, speaking quietly and telling you to breathe with her. One hand stayed on your wrist and her thumb massaged the cramped up muscle there, digging painfully into your flesh but pulling you back to her slowly. One hand came up closer and a calloused thumb brushed the tears from your cheek before her hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your upper back.

“Hey, look at me, look at me, Y/N, you’re okay, I’m here. Can you try to breathe in with me on three? Just stop fighting for a moment, count with me and then we’ll breathe in together. Okay? One.”

You tried to sit up straighter and stop the erratic twitching of your chest, still choking on your breath as you waited for her commando.

“Two. Three.”

Her hand pressed between your shoulders from behind and suddenly you could breathe again, a loud gasp that turned into quiet sobs as you fought to release the air from your lungs before breathing in again.

“There we go, you’re doing so good,” Abby’s hand was on your cheek again, “so good, Y/N, breathe with me, that’s right.”

Your vision slowly returned to you now, though it was still distorted by  tears. Abby had half-climbed into the truck, one foot between yours and one dangling out of the open door, her weight held up only by her right leg as she pressed her back against the dashboard. A wet laugh escaped you. Abby shot you a confused look, paired with the hint of a relieved smile.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get a cramp as well,” you rasped, “if you keep that up.”

You slid further to the inside of the broad seat, making room for Abby next to you. She grinned and sat down, one hand still on your wrist. Her eyes went down to your trembling hands, your knuckles still white from your iron grip.

“Okay, let’s take care of your hands, hm?”

Her fingers wandered softly over yours, then she rested one hand over your tangled fingers and pushed her other thumb between your palms, gently loosening your hold. She pulled back each finger slowly, starting with your thumbs and stroking each one as they relaxed. Finally, your shaking hands lay freely on your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, don’t worry.” She took one of your hands in her lap and started massaging the inside of your palm. “Wanna tell me what got you there?”

You sighed, breath still shaky with tears.

“Um.. We ran into infected today. Runners. Families, it seemed.”

Abby sucked in a breath and gave you back your hand before taking the other and starting the same gentle procedure.

“Those are the hardest. Kids?”

You nodded and Abby made a soft noise. You took another rattling breath.

“I… I lost my little sister. Back when… before I came to you.”

Her head shot up and she stared at you, shock and sympathy playing over her features.

“Fuck, Y/N, you never said…”

“I know.” You lowered your head.

When you had stumbled out of the woods around the WLF stadium and begged them to let you in, they had stripped you and searched you before bringing you to their leader. After hours of questioning to make sure you weren’t a spy for any other group, he knew about your team and everything you had done in the last three years, but you hadn’t mentioned Sierra once. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. They had brought you to Nora who had patched you up, examined you, and fed you before showing you to your new room. It was a small closet on the base level of the stadium, with only a tiny window letting in some light. You were thankful for a roof over your head and the armed posts surrounding the stadium.

“I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t lie to Isaac or betray you. It wasn't anyone's business.” You gave Abby a fierce look. Nothing would change your mind about this. She just nodded, her eyes wide. You sighed, brushing your hands against each other.

“She was bitten. I see her every time I close my eyes. It wasn’t fair.” You dropped your hands into your lap. “I just don’t… I can’t -”

Abby’s hand was on yours again, her fingers sliding between yours.

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk.”

You scoffed.

“No one ever talks here. You’re all made of stone.”

Abby contemplated this for a few seconds, then she squeezed your hand.

“My dad was murdered a few years ago. Almost all of our families are dead.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. Fuck. You had been so insensitive. “By us, I mean Owen, Nora, Jordan, and me. Owen lost his parents to infected and his brothers to the scars just last year.”

Abby leaned back and stared out of the windshield, the garage now dark except for a few small lamps at the exits.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m in no place to tell you how to deal with it.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, you know. We don’t talk about those things.” She looked at you, her gaze so intense you almost pulled back. “Would you like to?”

You forced yourself to hold her gaze.

“I think I would. Now that it’s all… further away.”

Abby nodded, squeezing your hand again.

“Then we’ll talk. You can tell me all about your sister. And… I haven’t talked about my dad in a long time. I think I’d like to tell you about him, too. He was great.”

A small smile played around her lips and you felt a rush of gratitude for this wonderful woman. You could practically see the memories playing through her head behind those green eyes. She blinked, looking back at you.

“Wanna get something to eat? You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sure.” You shared another smile and exited the car together, fingers still intertwined as you crossed the lot and Abby held the door open for you.

Dinner was already over, but Leah had kept her word and the elder woman at the counter gave you both gigantic bowls of beef stew with thick, coarse bread. You told Abby about your patrol that day and she hummed sympathetically. She knew what it felt like to deal with infected children. After a while, the door to the cafeteria flew open and Manny came in, sleek black hair still wet from a shower. He grinned brightly as he made his way over to you and sat next to you on the metal bench.

“You coming along tonight?” he asked you, drumming his fingers on the table. You raised your eyebrows.

“What’s happening tonight?”

He tutted at Abby and gave her a theatrical frown.

“You didn’t invite Y/N? It’s Mel’s birthday! Owen got his hands on some prime hooch. You celebrating with us?”

You smiled at your plate. The last thing you needed was to get wasted and completely lose any shred of sanity you had left.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll join you. I still haven’t showered and I had a terrible day. I’m just gonna read a bit and pass out, I think.” You gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Read and pass out? It’s a special occasion! You sure?”

“Yeah, but really, thank you for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

He sighed heavily, then he clapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Abby, you need to get moving, girl. We’re meeting in 20 and you stink.”

Abby just raised her eyebrows and shook her head, finishing her stew. Manny's laughter echoed through the empty room as he left.

“Do I really smell that bad?” There was a twinkle in her eye, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“Not at all. He probably smelled me.” You grabbed her empty bowl and placed it in yours. “Go have fun, I’ll clean this up. See you at training.”

Abby cocked her head to the side, seemingly not sure what to do. You gave her another encouraging smile.

“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you. Go celebrate!”

The tall blonde stood up slowly. She still seemed hesitant.

“I’ll come check on you later if that’s okay. And you can always come over and talk to me if something’s wrong, alright?”

Your chest felt tight all of a sudden, but not in the way it had earlier. It was the feeling of reaching for something knowing you’d never have it, of wanting something so bad and only being able to admire it from a distance. It felt like being homesick. You thought of Sierra again and how she had been your home, the only anchor in your life. Fuck, not now.

You shook your head as if to get rid of your thoughts and gave Abby a brave smile.

“Okay. But I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Okay. See you later, then.”

“See you.”

Abby gave you a last look over her shoulder before exiting the cafeteria and you made your way over to the kitchen. The cooks had already left and a lanky red-haired boy was the only one still there, washing dishes and listening to music on an mp3 player. The metallic sound in his headphones echoed through the peacefully quiet kitchen. He almost jumped two feet into the air when you approached from the side, bowls in your hand.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Jesus Christ.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest, the suds leaving a dark print on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how not to scare you, music and all. Sorry.” Both of you had to laugh and he held his dripping hands out for your dirty bowls.

“Don’t worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone this late. You just come back from a mission?”

“Just a patrol run.”

You leaned against the counter and watched him clean the dishes.

“Anything exciting happen?” His eyes were bright and excited. He was even younger than he had looked at first, he couldn’t be older than 15. “My brother is on patrols too. Maybe you know him, his name is Danny.”

You crossed your arms and tried to remember the face that matched that name. Danny had been on patrol with Owen for a while when you had first arrived, but now he was stationed on some outpost and you hadn’t seen him for a long time.

“Yeah, I think I do. He’s not here at the moment, right?”

“He’s at the Serevena Hotel. I may be able to visit him there soon, depending on how my training goes.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Training to be a soldier?”

“Of course.” He stood up straight. “I want to do my part, protect our people. Fight the scars.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that. Even though you were thankful the WLF had taken you in and even though you had also participated in rigorous training from the first day on, soon being cleared for missions, you didn’t really have the same loyalty and faith for the organization. The seraphites were your enemies now, of course, but they were just people. You all were. Sometimes you wondered how it could have come to this - so few people left on this earth and here you were, slaughtering each other.

“I hope you can visit your brother soon.” You let your arms fall to the side and turned to leave. “Thanks for the dishes.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, putting his headphones back in.

You were in no rush to get to your room and so you took a few detours, passing the gym which was filled with quite a lot of people getting their training in after work. You looked into empty classrooms, trying to decipher what was written on the board. Would Sierra have studied here? Sat in the front, eager to learn the things you hadn’t been able to teach her? What if you had come here earlier, before it all happened? Could they have protected her better than you had? She would probably be walking next to you now, telling you about her day.

When you finally arrived at your room, you just quickly grabbed a towel, a clean shirt, and some shorts and headed for the showers. The hot water seemed to help somewhat. You wondered what Abby was up to right now. Probably getting drunk and having fun. Was she the type of person who danced? You had never seen her dance before. Maybe Nora would persuade her. There it was again, that heavy, pulling feeling. You turned the water off, got dressed, and went straight to bed. Enough heartache for one day.

-

You woke up confused, not knowing where you were at first. It was pitch black and there was some kind of noise outside. You reached around you and finally found the flashlight next to your pillow, turning it on and trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. What was going on?

It had to be after midnight. The lights in the stadium were only on from 5.30 am to 10 pm in order to save power. You untangled yourself from your sheets and got on your feet, swaying a little. There it was again, that strange scratching noise accompanied by a quiet mumbling sound. It wasn’t directly at your door but seemed to come from further down the corridor. There were a few other people living down here in storerooms and sectioned hallways.

Yawning, you walked to the door and opened it ever so slightly, pressing the flashlight to your thigh in order to keep the light down at first. You couldn’t see anything, so you waved the flashlight around the corridor. Your stomach dropped.

At the far end of the hallway, a small figure stood in front of one of the doors, trying to open it to no avail. Small hands scratched at the wood, quiet brabbling reached your ears. This was wrong. Very wrong. The figure hadn’t noticed the light yet. It went on to the next door, trying the door handle and whining in frustration when it didn’t open.

Why didn’t the people inside wake up from the noise? You stood frozen as the figure tried the next door. It was a child, dressed in dotted pyjamas. Its blonde hair was shoulder length and tangled in knots. You slowly pushed your door open wider in order to step out into the corridor. Suddenly, the hinges squeaked and the sound echoed through the hallway.

The child slowly turned toward you. Blood was dripping from its mouth, its eyes were cold. It took a step toward you. You looked down and realized you were holding a gun. Oh. Right. Infected. You were supposed to shoot them.

As the kid made another strange brabbling sound, more blood ran down the front of the cotton pyjama shirt. You raised the flashlight with shaky fingers and aimed it right at the child's face.

Your blood froze in your veins. No. This couldn’t be. You had taken care of her, you had made sure she wouldn’t… wouldn’t turn into one of these… No, you had given her a peaceful ending.

“Sierra.” Your voice was raspy, quiet with terror. “Sierra, what are you doing here, baby?”

She growled. A horribly wrong sound, coming from someone so small and so lovely. Only she wasn’t lovely anymore. She was sick. Infected.

“Sierra!” You spoke louder now, your voice pleading. “Baby, please don’t do that. It’s me, see?” You raised the flashlight to light your own face for a moment. When you put it back on her, she had stopped walking. Her face was a mask of ice-cold fury. When she spoke, her voice rattled like nails in a metal box, rough like chalk on board.

“Y/N… Why?

You sank to your knees.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry Siri, I was so helpless. I didn’t know, I didn’t…”

“You… killed… me.”

She was getting dangerously close now and all of a sudden you could smell her, too. Foul, dead, vile. The smell of sickness and decay. You raised the gun, a war raging between your head and your heart.

“Sierra, stop. Stop.” Tears were streaming down your face. “Please stop, Siri. Don’t come any closer. Stop, stop! Please stop!”

Your little baby sister was so close that you could have reached out a hand and brushed through her hair. You stood up and took a step back.

“I’m gonna have to shoot you if you don’t step back. You’re infected, Siri. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can’t, please Sierra. Don’t, please don’t…”

She hissed at you and lurched forward. A shot rang through the air and the girl fell to the floor right before you, her tiny body at your feet, blood slowly pooling around her head. You dropped the gun and it clattered on the concrete floor. You clapped your hands to your mouth and screamed into your palms, crying out again and again, trying to gasp for air. It felt like your heart was being torn in two.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around, but there was only darkness. You let yourself fall to the floor and kept weeping into your hands. Someone gripped your wrists and shook them slightly. You opened your eyes.

Abby was sitting on the side of your bed, her face right above yours and full of worry. You shook your head, frantically looking around your room for any kind of danger. The room was almost dark, light just seeping through the crack under the door. It was still early in the night.

“Y/N? Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Abby slowly let go of your wrists. “You had a nightmare. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

You were still too terrified to speak, so you just scooted further to the side and grabbed Abby’s hand, giving her a pleading look. She understood immediately, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed next to you, holding out her arm for you to crawl into. You pressed yourself to her side and rested your head on her chest, feeling yourself tremble in her arms. She just held you for a while, letting you listen to her heartbeat until your own body began to calm down.

“Hi,” you whispered into the dim room. Abby stroked your hair while she held you tightly.

“Hey there,” she mumbled back. “Feeling better?”

“Not really.” You looked up at her. She smelled faintly of alcohol and something sweet. “How was your party?”

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“It was absolute chaos. I had to escape from there before it could consume me. And I also had someone to check on.” She squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at the thought of her finding you like this, writhing and talking in your sleep, crying out or even fighting her without knowing who was in front of you. You had always had horrible nightmares and Sierra had taken the brunt of them, waking you countless nights and trying to stay brave when you yelled at her or shoved her away in the first moments of consciousness, not yet fully back in the real world. Now that she was gone, they were a hundred times worse. You pressed your forehead to Abby’s shoulder.

“Did I scream?”

“Not really. I just knocked a few times and then I heard you talking, and you sounded so panicked that I thought I should make sure… I’m sorry I just came in like that.”

You shook your head.

“No, don’t. Thank you for waking me. It was… God, I hate this.”

Abby’s fingers combed through your hair, massaging your scalp. It was heavenly.

“Does this happen a lot?”

You snorted involuntarily.

“Every night. Several times. I never sleep through and I never sleep enough.” You wiped a hand over your face. “Sorry, I know I’m not the only one and it could be worse. It’s just… hard.”

“Excuse me?” Abby’s tone made you look up at her. “You’re telling me you have several panic attacks in your sleep every night but it’s fine because others have nightmares, too?”

You frowned. Panic attacks? You’d never thought of it that way.

“Y/N, you’re allowed to complain. To me especially. Remember, we wanted to talk about our problems? Be open about all this?”

She was right. You pressed yourself closer to her.

“I guess, yeah. Thank you for… for being here.”

“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?”

You held onto Abby’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fist as if she might be ripped from you at any moment.

“I don’t know… I mean, why not. Well…” How were you even supposed to explain all this? How would you ever talk about your sister without freaking out again?

Abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you felt the tension in your stomach dissolve. You took a deep breath.

“I can never tell I’m dreaming. This time I thought I heard something in the corridor and I went to see what it was. A little girl was scratching on doors, trying to get in. She looked like the… like one of the infected we ran into today. But I made a noise and when she turned around she was... She was -” You gasped for air, trying to keep your calm. Abby hummed softly, stroking your back and giving you time to think.

“She had the face of my sister. Sierra.” You hadn’t said her name out loud in so long, only in the nightmares. Maybe it was time to rid her name of that terror, that fear, and grant it the love and warmth it deserved. “Sierra was my little sister. We ran with a group the last few years, stayed with them after our mom died. But she was bitten and I had to… I had to let her go.” You swallowed hard. Abby’s thumb drew circles on your back.

“So in the dream… the girl turned around and she was her . And I didn’t know what to do. I begged her to stop, to not come any closer because she was infected, she was bleeding, and -” You drew in another breath and buried your face in Abby’s chest. “She asked me why I’d done it, why I had… and she kept coming and then she attacked me and I - I had to, I had to shoot her.”

Hot tears were burning in your eyes and your throat was impossibly tight again. Abby gently placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face up toward her.

“I’m not gonna tell you it was just a dream because I know it's more complicated than that. I get them, too, sometimes. But what I can tell you is that I’m here, that you’re safe now, that your sister is in a better place and that one day you will be able to speak about her without feeling like you’re falling apart.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. And now you're with me. We can heal together. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You raised your head from her chest and turned a little in order to get face to face with her.

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? Why now? I didn’t even think you liked me. You don’t have to take care of me.”

Abby’s features softened and she huffed out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know. I really… You were right when you said we keep everything to ourselves. But some of us do it more than others. And I guess I’m the worst when it comes to showing what I want.”

The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Abby took a deep breath.

“I like you, I really do. I just thought you needed more time. I know what it’s like to suffer and to feel like you can’t breathe. I wanted to give you space. But then I saw you in the car and I immediately knew what was happening. And I finally realized that I wouldn’t make things better by staying away.”

She held your gaze and you felt something shift between you. Her hand on your back came to a halt. You smiled softly.

“I always thought you didn’t find me interesting enough to talk to me. I was so jealous of the others for being this close to you and for making you laugh. I wanted that, too.”

“You’re the most interesting person that’s ever walked into this stadium,” Abby said softly. “God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel left out.”

You rested your head back on her shoulder.

“You made it up to me already. Really, you saved me today. Twice.”

Abby chuckled.

“Just wait until I have my next breakdown and then you can return the favor. Shouldn’t be long, they get to me every few days.”

You wrapped your arms around her torso.

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay close by.”

She hesitated, holding her breath for a second. You waited.

“Do you want me to stay? Tonight?”

You smiled to yourself.

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

You kept talking for a while. Abby told you about the party and about the cook Nora was currently hooking up with, and you told her about the boy in the kitchen. She recalled training with Danny when she first joined the WLF, laughing about how he had boasted that he wouldn’t lose to a girl and how she had him on the ground in a headlock in about two seconds.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were in the truck again, sitting in the passenger seat as the car flew through Seattle at top speed. You looked over and in the driver's seat there was the red-haired boy from the kitchen. His face was determined, a hard mask of concentration. He was panting hard, driving as fast as he could. Arrows were flying around you, soaring through the broken windows of the car and missing you by mere inches. A horse was whinnying. Scars. You immediately pulled out your gun and started shooting at everything that moved outside, hitting at least three people and a horse.

“Sorry,” you whispered as you reloaded. Animals weren’t fair.

You looked up and suddenly there was someone standing in the middle of the street. A small girl, brown-haired and in a red dress. Her back was to you. You screamed at the driver, but it was too late. The truck hit the child and it was thrown against the windshield, making a horrible noise as it cracked the glass and rolled over the roof to the back of the car where it fell to the ground. The truck came to a shrieking halt and you jumped out, gun drawn. The scars had vanished. You and the redhead ran back to where the girl was laying in a heap on the street, so small and fragile. Blood was running through the cracks in the pavement.

You turned the girl on her back and froze when you saw her face.

“Sierra! No, no, no, oh god no, what have we done - Sierra, Sierra, baby, look at me!”

“Y/N!” You heard your name but Sierra’s lips weren’t moving. “Y/N!” You whipped your head around and woke up.

It was dark and Abby had an arm wrapped around you, the other was holding your cheek. You swallowed and struggled for air.

“I’ve got you, hey, just breathe for me, I’ve got you.” Abby’s voice was sleepy and rough, something you'd have never thought you’d have the privilege of hearing. It calmed you down instantly. You dug your fingers into her arm, strong muscle flexing beneath your touch.

“Shhh, that’s right, just hold on. You’re okay.” You melted into her arms, hands and legs still shaking. She made a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat and pressed another kiss to your scalp. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” you whispered and she hummed again in response. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her breaths as they slowly became more regular, chest steadily moving against you. Her heartbeat thumped softly in your ear. Cocooned in the wolf’s arms and serenaded by the quiet symphony of her sleeping body, you finally drifted off to sleep again.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby anderson fic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst/comfort #angst/fluff #manny tlou #wlf #washington liberation front #abby anderson / reader #abby/reader

[hermannsthumb]

As per our convo, Newt getting set up with Hermann via Hermann’s father’s binder full of pre-approved suitors for his son...

(from @k-sci-janitor 👀) easily one of our funniest concepts yet. I was going to end on newt coming over for dinner scenario but I like the ominous open ending. I'm not actually sure when kaiju attacks fall in the PR timeline so excuse my handwaveyness, LOL

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Hermann’s relationship with his father is what one would call strenuous at best, but—Hermann must admit, to the man’s credit, and in spite of his many flaws—he took the news of Hermann’s sexual orientation as unflinchingly as if Hermann had told him the day’s weather. It was a bit annoying, in fact. Hermann had agonized over the proper way to breach the subject for months, certain it spoke to some sort of personal ruin (whether ostracization from the Gottliebs or being forbade following through on any attraction he may feel whilst still living under the family roof, he wasn't sure), before finally simply announcing it one day at the breakfast table on a whim.

It had been a long-standing tradition that Hermann’s parents compile a binder—effectively of dossiers—on all the most eligible bachelors (for their daughter) and bachelorettes (for their sons) to aid in the choice of the latest Gottlieb mate. It was easiest this way, or so Hermann and his siblings were told. Parental approval was already secured. The histories of each were already secured, which bypassed any nasty shocks that might emerge in the courtship stage. Most of them were children of his father's colleagues or bright minds in their own rights: surgeons, and dentists, and mathematicians. Poets were strictly forbidden.

The occasion of Hermann’s breakfast table announcement had also been the day Hermann’s father presented him with his very first binder of prospective mates—a few days after his eighteenth birthday, and shortly before he was to go off to begin work on his PhD. His father had slid him a hand-written binder of names, no more than a dozen, and all with accompanying photographs. “All are accomplished young women,” he assured Hermann. “We can arrange any meetings of your choice over your winter holidays.”

Hermann glared down at the row of frozen smiles. He stabbed his fork into his cooked tomato wedge. “I don’t want to marry any of these women,” he said, and turned his glare on his father. He still had a rebellious streak in him at that point, something nurtured by a charismatic young man he used to trail after in boarding school, who pierced Hermann’s ear with a sewing needle in the boys’ toilets and listened to songs about setting things on fire. In late this streak had manifested itself in Hermann in nicking packets of cigarettes from his father’s study, one of which was in his pocket now. The weight of it made Hermann feel bolder. “I don’t want to marry any woman,” he continued. “I like men.”

The binder was drawn away in silence, and Hermann was free to eat his toast and tomatoes. The next morning a binder of young men was in its place.

(In a way the acceptance infuriated Hermann. It meant he could not blame his father’s obvious dislike for him on an unfounded, homophobic prejudice; rather, it was a result of Hermann’s own personal failings.)

The binder was placed at Hermann’s breakfast plate every day until he left for his studies. It was placed at his plate when he returned from them five years later. Not even the emergence of the kaiju from the bottom of the ocean shortly after Hermann turned twenty-four dampened his father’s hopes, nor turning all their scientific efforts towards the new jaeger program: some names were removed from the binder (the reasoning Hermann shudders to think at), more still were added, though Hermann is expected only to consider it once a week now on account of his busy schedule. This was one of such days.

“Your brother is very happy with his wife,” Hermann’s father reminds him. “She was one of my first suggestions for him, in fact.”

Hermann is not fond of his sister-in-law. Too rude—too cold. Though perhaps that makes her perfect for Hermann’s brother. “Haven’t we got bigger things to worry about these days than whether or not I’m going to marry?” Hermann says. He adds milk to his tea. “I’m sure they’re all, er, marvelous selections, only—”

“Your sister, too, with her husband,” father says.

Hermann sighs. He hasn’t got much of the rebellious streak he used to in him anymore—too stressed. Not fancying a fight before they’ve even begun today’s coding work, he picks up the binder and begins flipping through it. Sons of engineers working on the jaeger program with them, prominent young chemists, many of whom Hermann has been presented with since he was eighteen. Plenty of them are even handsome. Half of Hermann wonders if he should just pick the least-unappealing one of the bunch and be done with it already. He turns the page over and freezes. “Oh,” he says. “This one is—new.”

“Hm?” father says.

Hermann holds up the binder, tapping at a new entry. “Newton Geiszler.”

“Dr. Geiszler,” father says, nodding. “A child prodigy from Berlin—he’s made tremendous strides in kaiju science in such little time. And,” he adds, “three PhDs. Two of them before he even turned twenty.” The unspoken implication was that Dr. Geiszler far surpassed Hermann in intelligence and Hermann should feel ashamed for not skipping as many grades as Dr. Geiszler.

Hermann feels he ought to resent Dr. Geiszler for it, but he's finding it difficult to summon up any animosity towards him. It's likely because Hermann finds Dr. Geiszler to be strikingly handsome in his photograph: cheeks which haven’t quite lost their baby fat (giving him the appearance of being a scruffy hamster), large, thick glasses, tousled hair, an easy grin. Three PhDs, and German at that. And a child prodigy? “I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned him to me before,” Hermann says. He seems precisely the sort father would. Geiszler’s photograph is black-and-white and a bit grainy, but Hermann swears he could make out the lightest bit of freckles across his cheeks.

“I’d not heard of him until he published an article last week on kaiju biology,” father says. “Besides—he’s moved to America.”

Geiszler has three piercings up the side of his left ear. “I am going to write to him,” Hermann declares.

Father nods, and picks up his newspaper, clearly already disinterested. They speak no more of it that day.

It is not hard to find Dr. Geiszler online (his name is not the most common, and his field of study certainly isn’t), nor is it hard to match his photograph to his faculty page on MIT’s website. From there, Hermann retrieves Dr. Geiszler’s email address. He takes the evening to read over Geiszler’s publications spanning back to 2003 before he gathers up the courage to type out an actual email.

Dear Dr. Geiszler,

You do not know me, but I have recently been made acquaintance with your work and find it—Hermann pauses—scintillating. My father and I are—Hermann backspaces this—I am currently working on the development of the jaeger program…

There’s a response waiting for him the next morning. It’s as enthusiastic as it is brief. Dr. Gottlieb- That’s so awesome!! Believe it or not I’ve been following your work too. I have a million questions for you about the jaegers. If it’s classified info I promise I won’t tell. -Newt

It makes Hermann smile like nothing ever has before.

Hermann’s correspondence with Dr. Geiszler does not transgress beyond the professional until the following January. By that time, Hermann and his father have successfully completed the coding for their first jaeger prototype, and Hermann has been offered his fair share of tenured university positions to pick from as he likes. He finds himself oddly disappointed that none of them are in America with Dr. Geiezler. This, which leads to the realization that he’s grown rather fond of Dr. Geiszler, is perhaps what drives Hermann to uncharacteristic sentimental extremes on January 19th: he orders Dr. Geiszler a birthday present. The first email Dr. Geiszler sends him after that addresses him as Hermann. The first email Hermann sends Dr. Geiszler after that addresses him as Newton. Things move rapidly after that.

“Are you still writing to that young biologist?” Hermann’s father asks him in March. Hermann has spent the last two months devouring every bit of information Newton has seen fit to divulge about his personal life: his dexterity with no less than three different instruments, his favorite loud monster movies, how he’d love to get a kaiju tattooed on him one day. Hermann suspects he might be falling in love with Newton. In hardly five months! These are war times, Hermann supposes, so it would make sense. People are meant to do such extreme things.

“I am,” Hermann says.

“I’ve asked around about him,” Hermann’s father says. His expression is stern—unimpressed. “About his character. I’m not sure it’s wise to continue your correspondence.”

The reasons are this. Dr. Geiszler’s methods are unorthodox. Dr. Geiszler is loud and uncouth, and has little respect for his intellectual superiors. Dr. Geiszler was thrown out of a convention once for storming up on stage and stealing a microphone from an engineer to shout about the destruction coral reefs. Dr. Geiszler was in a distasteful band for several years. Dr. Geiszler was once arrested for egging a politician’s house. Dr. Geiszler has gone on record as describing the kaiju as “kinda cool”. Almost none of this is news to Hermann; in fact, that which is only causes Hermann’s affection for Newton to grow. “I will consider your advice,” Hermann says, knowing he won’t. Besides, it's not as if his father really has Hermann's interests at heart—Hermann knows he merely wishes to preempt any scandal Newton Geiszler could possibly bring upon the Gottlieb name.

In April Newton goes on television and declares that he’s sure the kaiju are extraterrestrial in origin, on account of their great size and his brief examination of a sample from the second kaiju to make landfall. He’s laughed off by his older peers before he can get another word out. The email he writes to Hermann afterwards is furious, capslock-heavy, and expresses that Hermann is the only one who takes him seriously in the whole world. It leaves Hermann certain that he is in love with Newton.

“Dr. Geiszler was interviewed on some American television program,” Hermann’s father says a few days later.

“I know,” Hermann says, proudly. Newton was on television. “I watched it.”

“He made some extraordinary claims,” Hermann’s father says.

But Hermann is thinking only of the outfit Newton wore (skinny jeans and an oversized leather jacket, so out of place compared to the suited other scientists sitting around him), the shade of his eyes (hazel), his short stature (hardly taller than Hermann), and the cadence of his voice (high, but not unappealing). He’d been so confident, and carried himself with a self-assurance that was foreign to Hermann. It was marvelously attractive. “I’m sure they're correct,” Hermann says. "Every single one. Newton is a terribly brilliant scientist." All bold claims are met with derision at first, are they not?

Newton’s theory is proven correct after the next kaiju attack, when experts other than him get their hands on kaiju samples and validate his claims. The general consensus after that is that the kaiju are not of this world. And Newton was the first to propose the theory! Hermann sends Newton an email full of congratulations, and Newton responds with a heart emoticon in his sign-off. Newton isn't just a brilliant scientist. “Newton is a genius,” Hermann tells his father, dreamily.

The binder reappears on Hermann’s work desk a few months later, Newton’s page torn conspicuously from it. Hermann tips the whole thing straight into his trash can. He has more important things to worry about—arranging a meeting with Newton, perhaps. Hermann ought to have him over for dinner.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #the new post editor is weird but I like that I can make things pink

[palukoo]

So! @thxngam and @claudiasjeancregg enabled me to talk about that scene in Dead Irish Writers and oh boy did I run with it! 

So... the scene is super interesting for several reasons... let’s dive in...

It’s a scene that’s just women, and, by West Wing standards, several women, and you realize you’ve never really seen all the main women together without the men before that, I think. I mean, you also really haven’t seen how Donna and Abbey interact, which is why this scene is so good

The four of them actually have two scenes with this sort of thing off the top of my head-- this, and then during Zoey’s kidnapping arc with Amy and CJ trying to stop Abbey from going into the press room (though Donna doesn’t talk in that one)

I probably will bring this up again but on top of this not being a dynamic the audience has seen before, I don’t think it’s a dynamic that they’ve had before in this combination... like... 

Any group of two of them I will accept having spent some time together, though I doubt Donna and Abbey are close (partially due to the power dynamics I’ll get into later) and Donna and Amy don’t know each other well

Any group of the three of them? Not so much

Amy, CJ, and Abbey maybe, because they do say or imply that Amy knows both of them and is friends (?) with both of them before we ever see her, but... I don’t see her as being particularly close with the campaign or administration, so... (but I’m SO glad we get it here and during the kidnapping arc)

Amy, CJ, and Donna is a dynamic I adore and that I think this scene kinda opens the door for it in a lot of ways but again, since I don’t think Amy and Donna are close at all at this point and Amy’s not that close the the administration at this point, I don’t see it

CJ, Donna, and Abbey I will absolutely accept actually but not in any sort of like meaningful or non professional context. The way Donna reacts to being invited in in this scene? This is new for her

Amy, Donna, and Abbey? Nope. Love it as a concept, but nope

So the four of them? Yeah, no

Which is relevant in like. The way women get to interact on screen and like. The way women are isolated in male dominated fields

(Amy, working for the WLC, is certainly in a less male dominated subset of the male dominated field of politics, as is Donna since a bunch of the assistants are women, and I get that Abbey has a very specific and gendered position in the show, but she and CJ are both absolutely in male driven fields)

And it’s relevant because Abbey’s shifting her anger into this like, feminist framing where she doesn’t not have a point (I’ll get there) but it’s also not really the whole story at all, which is why I think it was very smart of them to have it be this group to call her on it, because from any of the guys it would’ve been... easily yikes?

The other absolutely crazy thing here is the power dynamics which I know people have talked about before and CJ even calls attention to but you’ve got like

Abbey is sort of CJ’s boss, and her friend, but the nature of their positions in the administration are weird and they’re both honestly undermined a fair amount but a lot of the admin doesn’t take First Lady/Abbey seriously, so! It’s interesting!

Not in a direct sort of way but CJ clearly has more power than Donna, and they’re also friends

Do the math on Abbey and Donna, plus again we don’t really see them interact before this

Amy sort of exists outside of this, because she’s the only one who doesn’t work in the White House, but that also like. Is a dynamic in it of itself. She also definitely has a more visible and overtly powerful position than Donna and is sort dating Donna’s boss, so?

Also Abbey used to babysit for Amy which just makes this. A lot!

So I’m gonna try to sort of break the scene up into parts and do it like that. If I wanted to make this even longer, I would start before this scene because there’s a lot of relevant context/lead up, but I’ll just mention it

Donna’s just found out she’s not a citizen which is a lot

Amy’s kind of pissed at Josh who’s kind of pissed at her

Abbey’s also kind of pissed at Josh probably, especially if she caught any of what he was saying to Amy

Abbey didn’t want a whole thing and is obviously stressed about her license

CJ’s the one who caught that the guy was recusing himself and had to tell Abbey

“Claudia Jean?” “Yes, ma’am?” “Let’s go get drunk.” “Okay” should be a master class in acting

Also relevant is Abbey choosing CJ and Amy to get drunk with for this. They’re career women in politics who are her friends and who should understand this sort of.

So they get to the residence... “Awasiwi Odinak, far from the things of man...”

Abbey instantly cuts to complaining about Jed bc she’s angry at him and in her defense only some of it is misplaced!

But like... she says “what a jackass” and CJ immediately says “I’m gonna open the wine” in a very “can we not do this” way, and Amy just... is there. Hanging out. Trying to open drawers

As a note on that there is no way Amy’s being like. Genuine there. I love how awkward she is but she’s not about to take notes while getting drunk with them. She’s being awkward and funny and avoidant and I love her (like as a random note Amy is... very rarely still)

When she comes to sit with them and sits on the arm of the couch, it’s a really interesting detail that I see as her sitting as far away from them as she can without it seeming so blatant

And Abbey keeps talking, and neither of them really respond 

CJ with the corkscrew is of course iconic and funny and I think it’s part of the reason the scene works and it makes sense because CJ’s uncomfortable in this scene. Her rambling about the corkscrew prevents her, momentarily, from being in this uncomfortable position that she’s put into so much more later where she’s thrown into the issues of Abbey and Jed’s marriage and she really doesn’t want to be because she has a ton of respect and care for both of them

What I mean by “the reason the scene works” is that it needs to keep being drawn back to funny before it can snap. It’s a very specific kind of bubbling tension, and I really like it

Abbey saying “I’m board certified in thoracic surgery” brings you back to the fact that maybe she won’t be for very long, but it’s said as a joke and moved on from quickly, so you can’t dwell on it

I describe Abbey in this scene as “erratically vulnerable” which I don’t know if that’s quite right, but I think there’s maybe a glimpse of her realizing what she’s saying here, and the specific implications in that moment, and then changing subjects immediately

And of course she asks Amy about Josh...

What I find really interesting about this is Amy’s response of “he’s... you know... he’s adjusting.”

Amy doesn’t pull punches with Josh usually, but she does here (she also seems to earlier when she tells him he’s right, but then she gets Abbey to bug him) and I think it’s because we’re seeing her talk about Josh, not to Josh

Abbey says “well let him adjust faster. Jackass.” which is again, funny, but so so indicative of how frustrated she is and how she’s taking it out because literally earlier in the episode she says to Amy and Josh something like “I still haven’t gotten credit for this (I love them and their responses of “we’ll see” and “jury’s still out” to that)

Enter Donna!

Side note on timing, Donna walking in as Abbey insults Josh vs Abbey walking up as Josh insults Abbey

Donna coming in shifts this scene a lot

For one thing, it sets up this interesting play (that feels like me being really contrived and probably is) on audience proxy, that if I get into will only complicate things so I guess... if you’re curious, ask

(Donna plays audience proxy a lot in The West Wing as they explain political concepts and whatnot, and it’s not a thing you see so much in these really character driven scenes because it becomes unnecessary and sort of clunky

But the thing is that in this scene at this point, Amy feels very audience proxy-y... I will concede that in any given scene it’s easy for me to default, in analysis, to Amy and her perspective, but she feels very much like an observer of CJ’s jokes and Abbey’s anger thus far in the scene-- it definitely shifts back to Donna after the fade out)

I also want to shout out Donna’s body language here! The way she steps in cautiously and plays with her hands as she talks is really good at showing her discomfort, and I think it’s neat to draw a parallel here between her and Amy a minute or two before. Like, seriously though, watch her hands in this scene. It’s so good

But Donna walking in this room shifts things!!

Pulls attention to the... D plot? I don’t know, it’s the B plot of the scene, but there’s a lot going on in this episode, which is funny in the context of watching it if not for Donna, and away from Abbey’s heavy plot here, like a pressure valve in that tension I was talking about. Donna looks nervous here, but everyone else seems to relax

It also makes this more of a... White House thing. Like, because Abbey and Donna specifically probably have not been friends much, it further complicates the lines between personal and professional relationships here

But let’s actually talk about the dialogue a little bit, because I think it’s really funny that she’s there looking for Amy for Josh, when Josh knows she left to get drunk with CJ and Abbey, and there’s not a second in that room where Amy is going to leave. It somehow feels shoehorned/plot device-y but also in character at the same time?

The line is “Josh was looking for Amy” to which Abbey says “She’s right here” and Amy just waves weirdly with half her hand since she’s holding her glass. Yes I know I keep fixating a little on Amy’s physicality, but it’s SO good

And then Abbey says “Where have you been all night?”

One of my FAVORITE exchanges this episode is “It’s a little tough to explain, ma’am.” “Tougher to explain than secretly prescribing Betaseron?”

The way Abbey jokes about it!! It’s very specific because it’s not an “I’m moving past it so I can joke about it” it’s that she’s specifically bitter and it comes out... not hostile, but something

That’s sort of what I mean by erratic vulnerability?

Donna explaining the citizenship issue with CJ’s convenient questions is a nice break, like I said, and Amy’s “you seem pretty calm about it” gives Donna the room to freak out about it a little

And Donna freaking out about it a little gives Abbey room to be the “rational” one? Not exactly?

It’s also just a nice contrast in how they show their anxieties and it works really well for them as characters

Donna goes to leave, and Abbey invites her to stay

Which is also interesting? Since like I said, I don’t think they’re friends

But it’s also super in character because there’s something very grandiose about Abbey and it’s there in this scene. Like she... wants an audience? Even as she’s sort of trying to get away from this room where she’s forced to perform? I don’t know

Donna’s genuine excitement here is so cute

She sits even further from them than Amy had, on a chair instead of the couches

Another great exchange? “I probably shouldn’t drink, though” “I wouldn’t worry about it!”

There’s also something a little awkward and desperate about Amy’s “Canadian, huh?” like she’s trying to fill the silence and keep it from driving straight back to Abbey’s anger and identity crisis, and I just like how they play off each other here

CJ "opens" the bottle, Abbey says they'll decant it, Amy says "Now it's a party" and does the most iconic slide from the arm of the couch onto the cushions with Abbey

And then it cuts back in, and they're all boozier, especially, evidently, CJ!

But there’s something to be said, if we’re tracing body language, for Donna now being on the couch and Amy leaning into Abbey so much

With the later context that they’ve known each other since Amy was a kid, I accept it, but it’s absolutely crazy in the context of Abbey as the First Lady and Amy joining them because “you think I don’t wanna write a book some day?”

I mean, I love it either way, but it makes more sense with the retroactive context

I love love love CJ laughing and rambling about the cork and the wine and then you get another really important shift. Because Abbey seems annoyed in general but more amused than anything by CJ’s tangents before the fade out, and she’s at this point way less endeared.

Which totally makes sense, of course, ‘cause if you’re stressed and frustrated, anything is going to annoy you, including and honestly especially your friend being rambly about something completely irrelevant

I also love Donna looking around at Abbey and Amy while CJ is talking trying to make like conspiratorially amused eye contact, it’s a really subtle, human detail

Anyways, Abbey interrupts CJ to make her stop (This is another body language thing where I love how leaned back she is, how she rubs at her forehead as CJ keeps going on)

And it’s here I’m gonna start being REALLY pedantic probably

“Mrs. Bartlet, I wanted to ask you a question but I’m not sure how” “What?” 

First of all, this feels so... soft? This is actually why I’ll accept the babysitter thing

Amy playing with Abbey’s dress is so! good! Look, Amy’s so fidgety and I adore it!!

Also, I love this because Amy clearly doesn’t really want to ask, but she’s also not good at keeping quiet when something is bothering her

“Well, if the most they can give you is a year's suspension, is it...?” “That big a deal?”

Amy stops herself! Because she doesn’t want to say it! Or doesn’t know how to 

Amy never actually criticizes her in this scene, which is neat, because Amy’s practically introduced to us through criticizing Abbey. One of her first lines in the show is “[Abbey] isn’t doing enough for women” and she has lines like “I’ll keep poking him with a stick. That’s how I show my love” but in Privateers, Josh also tells her “it’s okay to tell her you disagree with her” while Amy’s refusing to go against her. It’s not inconsistent-- I just think Amy has a think about criticizing Abbey to her face, kind of, and here, while Abbey’s this upset, of course she’s hesitant at best

“Yes.” “Yes. I'm a doctor. It's not like changing your major. You of all people should...”

Abbey really says this to Amy “who has had seven jobs in three years” Gardner, Amy “and I’d [stake my job and career on a political issue] again” Gardner... “you of all people should...” Amy’s a career driven feminist lobbyist, but she’s not someone who can tie her identity to a job which is the real issue Abbey’s having, she just wants to frame it like this

I love the way Amy looks down during this, too

(“You of all people should...” makes a lot more sense, actually, after Amy loses her job because of her and Josh’s political fights over marriage incentives in welfare reauthorization)

((Also, how many times did Donna change her major? It’s not relevant, really, it just makes this an even funnier room for Abbey to say this in))

“I mean, women talk about their husbands overshadowing their careers. Mine got eaten”

She’s valid for being angry about this, but also she’s conflating things. She’s not losing her license just because of Jed

Like, it’s fair for her to hate how much of herself and her career and her life she’s had to give up because her husband is the president. I think it’s important, even with Donna’s also valid criticism here in a minute, that Abbey’s not being irrationally upset. It’s a choice she played a part in making, but it was never going to be a good choice for her, and it isn’t really fair to her, and it isn’t really any one person’s fault

And yes, I DO love how Abbey talks with her hands here. It’s that kind of grandiose thing about her

“Your husband got eaten” “My career” “Yeah, well, I’m on dangling modifier patrol” “What is your problem?”

I’m going to lose it a little bit here, because it’s really funny at face value

Like, this is one of my favorite tww comedic moments. The timing is so good. But trying to analyze this scene? Watching this scene multiple times? This is them being snippy with each other. CJ is upset here, with Abbey

(One of the things I really like about Sorkin-style rapid fire dialogue is that there’s a rewatchability where you pick up on different things each time)

CJ’s really subtle about it, which is... CJ is very subtle about her emotions a lot and there’s something similar you can look at throughout the show as a whole and also this episode in particular with the different ways that she, Abbey, and Jed learn to put on facades and deal with being very, very public people. Abbey in particular in this episode has a lot of rapid demeanor shifts, but you get the same thing from CJ going to brief in some of the heavier episodes, or, like, Jed at Leo’s funeral

I mean, really, the “What is your problem” feels way more jarring than anything CJ has said because outwardly she’s just been joking, but there’s... a tension or something? A flatness to her voice? A lack of amusement? It’s a really stark contrast to how she’s been overly amused about the cork or whatever. It’s good, and I like that Abbey picks up on it and doesn’t let it keep going unspoken

I do wanna take a second here because CJ doesn’t fully answer, I don’t think, so I wanna answer for her

A part of it is just her loyalty to Jed, too, and specifically to the president I think, and the awkwardness of being thrown into Abbey being so disparaging about that 

I also think that, as a character who takes on a lot of personal responsibility and, to an extent, guilt (less than some of the others, or at least less overtly), and internalizes a lot, it sort of bothers her that Abbey’s refusing to take responsibility here, like, at all, and that Abbey is externalizing all of her anger

The other thing is that we do unpack all of the team feeling betrayed and upset and angry with Jed and even sort of Leo during the whole MS plot, but we don’t really deal with any of them being angry with Abbey

And none of them would be, particularly, because she’s not their boss, their career, their friend, but she is CJ’s friend

She tells CJ “I wanted to be there when you were told” but she didn’t say “I wanted to tell you” (which. I could write a lot more about this but this is already too long)

And I think CJ hasn’t had any opportunity to address or unpack that

Oh, and here we see CJ refilling her own AND Donna’s glasses, meaning Donna is drinking. I would love to see the full transition between the scenes tbh

“Are you First Lady right now?” I love CJ’s sigh leading up to that, the way she doesn’t want to get into it

“What are you talking about?” “Sometimes you like to talk, and I think that’s great, but sometimes you're Abbey and sometimes you’re my boss, and I respect both very much, but--”

HOW is CJ this eloquent moments after the corkscrew monologue? 

No, but this is really it, and speaking of taking things under the surface and calling them out (wow, I did it, the whole analysis, right there...), CJ is just shining a massive light on the weird power dynamics here, and that everyone in this room other than Abbey has a really, really valid reason to feel uneasy in this conversation because of those power dynamic

“I’m Abbey.” “Yes, I agree with her”

Cutting it off right here because I love how quick they are with this. Like, it’s Sorkin, so duh, but Abbey’s hand up cutting CJ off and as soon as she’s spoken, CJ jumping in to say what she wants to

This is interesting because Amy hasn’t exactly made a point for CJ to agree with, also. Like, it’s supposed to be “is it really a big deal?” but Amy did not say that. I just think it’s neat

Also, because I’m obsessed with CJ and Amy’s implied friendship, I love this moment

“Look, they take this job away from me, I got nothing. I don't have a cat. I could get one, but I don't have one. Frankly, I'm not wild about cats. I don't hate them. I'm just not... I could learn to like them, I guess, if I...”

CJ losing the thread here again gives the scene it’s rhythm... it’s ebb and flow of tension and humor... it’s funny, to watch this, but you also kind of want to get back to the point, too

“CJ?” (with the pointed arm motion, too) “You've got a husband, children, a home and a life. And we're talking about one year of your not having a medical license.”

I think CJ is mostly being like “It’s not all you are” and sort of “stop complaining” but it’s also a step away from a point that Amy also ends up approaching, which is... First Lady is a weird position, and they do something specific with it in the west wing

Essentially, neither Abbey nor Helen wants it and it sort of becomes about sacrifice and loyalty and public and political and private life balance, but the First Lady is a public figure, with responsibilities and powers and careers, and it’s fair to on a professional level be upset with Abbey for being so dismissive about those

It’s also fair for Abbey to resent being thrust into this role she doesn’t want

“Jed got censured, and that came with no tangible penalty, and it was a banner headline, and he's having a slow nervous breakdown.”

The way I interpret this is both that she’s bitter at having to bear the tangible penalty of the two of them, and she’s trying to justify being upset at it, at the perceived injustice

ALSO, Abbey’s voice here makes me want to cry, because she sounds like she’s about to cry, and I realize half of this analysis is me saying “Yeah they were right to call Abbey out” but like. You do feel for Abbey here. You understand why she made the choices she did and why she’s upset at having made them, at being put in a position to make them

CJ looking away and almost rolling her eyes here is also really good, she’s so frustrated at Abbey just willfully missing the point 

“That’s different” “Why?” “‘Cause it is, and you know it.”

The thing that makes it different is actually, I think, basically the point Donna’s about to make. Like CJ’s close to making that same point, because the thing that makes it different is that what Abbey did is directly related to her doing her job poorly, essentially, and what Jed did isn’t, so of course she’s gonna get a more tangible penalty

“Okay, I’m First Lady again” “Okay.”

Abbey saying that is obviously a shield but also feels so vulnerable, like an admission that she can’t take it

CJ’s tone here is so good, too. Like she is backing off but the way she says it like “Okay well if you don’t wanna hear it that’s fine I guess”

Again, god, watch their hands

“You are First Lady, Abbey.” “Yes.” “And it’s not like it’s been a detour from healthcare” “No” “What, you’ve expanded Medicare to...” etc etc

Cutting in after that and keeping talking about it is... pretty bold honestly

The thing here is that Amy’s both arguing CJ’s point, basically, of like, you still have things, a career, and reassuring Abbey and being like it’s not giving you or your priorities or your identity up

It’s very smart, and it reminds me that Amy is, in very specific circumstances, really good at this sort of communication

I also love that she can list all this off. Like, of course she can, but I love it

When CJ says “There’s plenty of stuff left” I really wonder if she’s supposed to mean to list or to do but I like the sort of ambiguity there

Here’s another bit where the tension subsides, and the thing is, this is a weird sort of fake out ‘cause it almost feels like that’s going to be it, but no one has said the thing, the tension hasn’t fully erupted yet

“That’s not the point” “What’s the point?”

The point is that Abbey never wanted this, it’s not her, and god, I want to hug her

“I’m a doctor” could be a really poignant beat because that’s also the thing Abbey hasn’t explicitly said yet, or at least not emphasized, that this is about feeling like her identity is being taken away

But do they let us sit with this line? No. If they gave us a beat here, Donna’s line would feel weird on several levels

“Oh, Mrs. Bartlet, for crying out loud, you were also a doctor when your husband said, ‘Give me the drugs, and don't tell anybody,’ and you said, ‘Okay.’”

Donna has not spoken, I should point out, since before the fade to black. It makes the line really slap you in the face. Everything about this line, from timing (immediately after line before, long pause after it) to who is saying it is designed for impact, surprise

She’s also saying it very nonchalantly, half laughing. There’s a lot about her delivery that is exasperated, genuinely frustrated criticism, but it’s also just... almost playful teasing for a second in there

More on why it’s Donna saying it, though

I think you just don’t expect Donna to be... it’s not quite rude. Antagonistic at all? Beyond like lightly teasing the others? Certainly not to Abbey especially with the lead in of her being surprised and honored by being invited to drink with them

Amy criticizing Abbey doesn’t have the same impact. She’s not a main character, you’re probably gonna take Abbey’s side, really, and Amy criticizing her, like I said, isn’t new

You can’t take the personal elements out of CJ saying it. You can’t. They don’t give us a ton of context on CJ and Abbey’s friendship, but it’s very clearly deep, and CJ has also already explicitly backed off as far as this conversation

Remember what I said about audience proxy? Donna’s kinda their go to every-man, and this also is a window into how the public would feel about it. For the like, hundredth time, Donna and Abbey are not close, and she’s as close as you can get in this show, maybe, to an objective messenger for this while it’s still from a trusted, likeable main character. You have to balance feeling for Abbey with Donna’s valid point here

Also, Donna’s really good at reading people and casually calling them out/breaking things down.

(Aka being a stand in for explaining things (if it’s political, explain it to Donna, if it’s someone’s emotional shit they’re too repressed to say but you want the audience to get anyway, explain it through Donna. This isn’t criticism, I exploit the second often in my fic)

See also: her and CJ in No Exit, her and Amy about Josh in Commencement

(Donna doesn’t actually look at Abbey like at all as she’s saying this. She’s mostly vaguely looking down or looking at Amy. I don’t know what to do with that, exactly)

Abbey’s stare here!! It’s... shellshocked. Because I don’t know that she really has processed like, no, this was your mistake too, you did have agency in this, etc, bc she’s been using the anger as a defense all episode

Amy’s face is comical here, which I think is mostly not expecting that from Donna (which is the point) or from anyone to Abbey. Based on their relationship, there’s probably some base defensiveness on Abbey’s behalf, but I also think, and this is more headcanon, that like this is a position Amy’s been in before

“I used to get you in some jams” “Yes you did” plus her whole vibe, I have to assume Amy’s stepped out of line with Abbey before

CJ doesn’t look surprised, because hey! She knows both Donna and Abbey well, so she can maybe see it coming more, and like I said, I think she was really about to make the same point before Abbey stopped her, kind of. She looks like she’s waiting for it to catch up with Donna

And catch up it does! She looks over, panicked, to CJ, like she’s just remembered the whole layout of power dynamics CJ articulated

“Oh my god. You switched back to First Lady” “That’s alright”

I love that the first thing Donna says isn’t an apology, isn’t saying she was wrong, she shouldn’t have said that, she’s out of line, it’s just panic

And the fact that Abbey quickly just reassures her after! It’s so good

“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Bartlet” “It’s okay”

The camera staying on Abbey here is really smart, the way she shakes her head and you can watch her distracted reassurance, her processing 

Even without the “O Canada” etc stunt, I would insist, from Abbey’s reaction here, that she really isn’t upset with Donna, she’s just upset, but she does know, really, that she needed to hear that, that she’ll be grateful for it

CJ and Amy both make faces that are kind of like... quietly agreeing with Donna. Like a “Well, yeah, and now it’s been said, and that’s... a relief?” It’s good for the release of tension they finally give us

“He took the censure standing up, Abbey. I was very proud to have voted for him that day.” “Me, too.”

This is not the place for me to unpack my feelings on Amy and Jed

Her calling her Abbey here is interesting, personal, considering she’s been calling her “Mrs. Bartlet” all night and they’ve explicitly gone over the “you switched back to first lady” but I think it really works for the line

With this, it’s different, too, because it did come with no tangible penalty for Jed, but it’s still... something about integrity, maybe.

And Abbey saying “Me, too” is so gently hopeful, in a way, and it’s the first positive thing she’s said about Jed this whole time, really, and it gives you a nice feeling, like it’s going to be okay. Abbey and Jed, and Abbey just as a person

Donna looks so sort of regretful here you just want to reassure her that Abbey really, really isn’t upset with her, that she appreciates it, but it’s okay because you get the Canadian flags at the end

“Let’s get back to the party” is sort of one of the switches I’m talking about with Abbey, and you need it to move the episode along, and it wraps it all up

anyways this is an 11 page document and i’m sorry

#tww #my post #The West Wing #abbey bartlet #cj cregg #amy gardner #donna moss #dead irish writers #hmm tumblr is the worst there was more formatting here in post editor with bullet points under each other like section headers #but now yall get an even less comprehensible version :))))

[marvelyhp]

A thousand yous

Synopsis: Adelaide (or Y/n) opens up to Bucky and he tries to settle her fears and finally tells her how he feels.

Word count: 1790

Disclaimer: I don’t own the papasito of James “Bucky” Barnes.

Side note: This is another out of nowhere piece that came up. I thought about making this a series or a story but I’m not sure. I guess I got tired of seeing it in Google docs and put it somewhere else. Oh and Adelaide’s name can be changed for y/n or y/n l/n for the end, I just prefer to use actual names. I’m writing all this as if I expect anyone to read this.

++++++++++++++++++

Bucky found her sitting beside the window, her head propped against the glass pane. Eyes focused on the moving lights of the cars and the city, yearning gleaming in her face.

“I miss wearing my dresses,” Adelaide whispered, her breath leaving a trail in the window.

Bucky’s heart stopped at the sound of her voice. He let her words sink in before answering her, eagerly wishing she was opening up to him and felt more comfortable around him. Hope grew deep inside him.

“You mean the red one, with the white flowers?” Bucky started walking towards her to settle beside her on the windowsill. His knee brushed hers as he sat, looking at her face, not bothering with the twinkling lights in the city but the lack of them in her eyes. He missed that shine, her smile, and her carefree personality. But he was so thankful to have her next to him right then, it didn’t matter if he had to discover her all over again.

“Oh, the red shirtwaist. That was my favorite. I just miss the simplicity of it.” It came as a whisper, and he noticed the wavering of her voice.

Memories of her in that red dress, the one that left him more breathless than usual crossed his mind. He remembered her dancing with him in a fair, surrounded by hundreds of people. He remembered Steve dancing with a pretty brunette to his side. Her smile stood out most for him, the way it would light up her whole face, light up his whole world. The way her beautiful golden skin glowed. He remembered her twirling and giggling as she danced with his finger in her hand, her long onyx hair an umbrella as it rose around her.

The girl in front of him was not the Adelaide he knew. He couldn’t read her as well as he used to but she was rough around the edges, he saw the anger in her eyes every day. He saw the fear hidden behind a mask of indifference. He saw how fidgety she was around men, and untrusting of women. She didn’t let anybody in. He thought about how much she resembled him after he left Hydra, the things he saw in her that he knew he still harbored.

“It feels ridiculous to miss that,” Her voice resonated through the room. The darkness of the room would’ve swallowed them if it weren’t for the rays of moonlight coming through the windows. “To miss something so banal like dresses.”

“Don’t you miss anything else?” He didn’t want this moment to stop, he didn’t want her to stop talking. He wanted her to tell him, to open up to him more. But he wishes for her to mention him, even if once. He wanted her to mention him without that anger she felt towards him.

“I do. I miss the way everything was so simple then, even if it wasn’t. Nothing seems quite as complicated and exhausting as this,” A sigh escaped her lips as she shuffled on the windowsill, turning her body and her eyes towards Bucky. “I miss dancing. I miss Brooklyn and the way it was back then. I miss...” her voice trailed off as her eyes lowered to the ground, leaving Bucky’s blue orbs confused.

“What?”

“Forget it.” Her eyes lingered on his eyes before lowering to his lips. She quickly withdrew them, focusing in the moving bright lights.

“I miss Brooklyn, too. I-I miss Steve, so much. Every day I wake up and wish he was here to tell me what I’m doing wrong, or laugh at the stupid things I say or just call me an idiot. He was the only one who understood me.” Bucky’s voice had taken an edge of sadness. The memories of Steve laughing, dancing with his off-beat moves, being plain stupid and his heroics coming into view in his mind.

“I miss Steve, too.” It was a whisper, but the pain and sadness laced in her voice made him feel as though she was screaming. A pang of jealousy poked at his heart. Steve’s face and words as they talked about Adelaide that afternoon in the apartment in Romania shooting on his mind. He shook his head, Shame settling in his gut at his thoughts. It didn’t even matter now because Steve was no longer with him, he could no longer defend himself or say what he thought.

When Bucky looked at her face, she was still facing the window, her lips slightly pressed together. Her lids closed, a small tear glistening in the moonlight. He waited for something more but nothing came.

“He missed you too,” Bucky’s lips pursed. “He used to talk about you all the time. Anything we would do would remind us of you, but he would be the first one to comment on it. Damn it, sometimes I wanted to shut him up”

“Why did you?”

“Because it was too painful, talking about you.” A sigh escaped his lips as his hands traveled to cradle his face to then push his fingers through the mass on top of his head. “I couldn’t hear about the way you used to dance, or the way you smiled or the way you scolded the both of us. I didn’t want to remember the days we went on dates or think about the nights we spent together.”

Silence engulfed them both, the only sound interrupting were the horns of the cars below. Adelaide’s eyes closed tightly, her arms hugging her elbows. A tremble escaped her lips and Bucky felt afraid he had said too much, that he had pushed her too far. Even then, he decided to continue. He needed to say this, to get this heavy load off his chest.

“I couldn’t talk about you because I didn’t want to remember what I had lost. Of all the things and people I’d lost, you were the one who hurt the most.” His heart thundered against his rib cage, forcing his chest to rise and fall unevenly. He felt his hands shake slightly against the skin of his thighs. His eyes focused on her.

He focused on the way her chest rose and fell erratically. He focused on her body, shaking slightly as she stood up from the windowsill. He focused on the way she paced the living room. He focused on the way she kept muttering ‘no’ under her breath and shaking her head side to side.

“The only thing I thought for 80 years was you, Ady.” She was in denial and that’s when he threw caution to the wind.

“Stop.”

“Your smile was the only thing Hydra couldn’t erase, Ady. It didn’t matter how much of you I forgot, your smile was always there.”

“James, stop.”

“Your face was the first thing I remembered. Please, Ady-“

“Stop calling me that!” She cried out. She had stopped pacing at this point, having turned around to face Bucky. Her head was hung low, her white hair hiding her face.

Bucky just sat there with wide eyes and his mouth in a firm line. Her shout had surprised him having been the first time she had been so vocal. The first time she had expressed so much emotion since he had recognized her coming out of Doctor Raynold’s session.

“I’m not her, James. I am no longer that woman you so clearly loved and treasured. I don’t know who I was, who I am, or who am I supposed to be anymore. You don’t know me anymore, and neither do I.” Her fists were clenched at her sides, her voice shaking with every word spoken.

Seeing her so broken, so fragile, broke something inside him. He felt his heart twisting painfully in his chest. Without thinking, Bucky stood up and crossed the space between them in four powerful strides. His hands found her cheeks, tilting her head up.

Thin almond eyes stared back at him. Tears fell from her eyes, marking a pathway from the pool in her eyes to her chin. His thumbs cleaned her falling tears before he whispered his next words. His heart a thousand miles a minute.

"I don't care if you're not the Adelaide I knew. I would suffer through everything again if it meant finding you, whoever that is at the moment," Multiple tears fell from her bloodshot eyes, tears he washed away like the ocean washes the sand. "I would get to know you a thousand times if it meant having you." Their lips were mere inches away, her small refined nose brushing his. His breath mixing with hers. Both of them breathing heavily, their bodies leaning towards each other involuntarily.

Bucky thought about how close she was. He could feel the warmth of her body melting the coldness around his heart. Her stormy grey eyes looking longingly at him and he forgot the promise he had made to himself. He threw his promise out the window because he couldn't take things slower than they had been.

"Fuck it." That was all he said before he crashed his lips onto hers. He poured every lonely night spent thinking about her into the kiss, every tear he shed about her, every desire he had to see her for eighty years. The kiss was desperate and full of longing.

Adelaide's hand grasped the base of his neck, pulling his head towards her, deepening the kiss. All those emotions she had so desperately tried to hide came floating out of her chest. She had missed him so much. Her right hand caressed the soft brown hair on his head. She had taken a while to get used to the way his hair looked, much shorter than it used to be. His beard tickled her chin and even though she remembered how soft his face used to be, she had started to like the beard and how manly he looked.

They kissed passionately until their lungs no longer held any breath. Until a burning sensation flourished in the chest, lungs screaming for air. Bucky rested his forehead against hers, panting.

"I loved you," he pressed a kiss at the tip of her nose. "I love you, " his lips moved towards her cheek. "and I will always love you, Adelaide Wright." His lips settled on hers once again, this time slow and lovingly.

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel #bucky x oc #bucky x reader #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes angst #the falcon and the winter soldier #romance #love

[maxineswritingcenter]

The Little Mermaid AU! - Sam x fem!reader part 2

Haha, nothing like procrastinating

Here’s part 1 as a refresher to whatever the hell I’m doing. 

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

(Y/N) slowly peaked her head out of the water, searching for treasures left behind. She had found a few things, including her new prized possession. It reminded her or her father's trident but had four of the pointy things instead of three.

To her right, a fish rubbed up against her side.

"Flounder, there you are." She smiled, running her fingers softly over his scales. She produced the fork from her sack she wore, "Look at this? Isn't it cool? I've seen the humans use these to brush their head hair. Or... It looked like that's what they were using. I'm gonna call it a dingle hopper."

Her fish friend look at her, then back toward deeper water, "Uhh, (Y/N)..."

"What is it?" She thought, trying to remember if she had anything to do today, "Oh no. Oh No!" She started swimming back towards her home, Flounder hot on her heels, "The ceremony!"

-

(Y/N) swam through the curtain to the throne room where her father at in his throne, flanked by her sisters.

"Well, look who the catfish dragged in." Pallas spat.

Ignoring her sister, (Y/N) bowed her head, "Father, I'm so sorry. I forgot-"

"Young lady, as a result of your behavior-" Father began.

"Reckless behavior!" The royal advisor crab, Sebastian piped in.

"The whole ceremony-"

"Was a disaster! I was the laughing stock of the reef!" Sebastian clicked.

"Sebastian."

"I had a courtship planned with the prince of the Arabian see but I dropped it all for you!" Triteia shouted.

"No wonder we were mother's favorites!" Pallas sneered.

"Enough!" Triton struck his trident on the ground, silencing the chatter. He moved him thrown to where she was, head still bowed. He lifted it up gently.

"My sweet child, you have such an amazing gift."

"I know," She sighed, meeting his eyes, "I have mother's voice."

"Then please, for her memory's sake."

"Alright, father. I promise." She smiled softly.

"It wasn't her fault really." Flouder bubbled up, "She couldn't have heard the call horns from shore-" He quickly shut his mouth, realizing what he had said.

"The shore?!" Triton bellowed.

"Nothing happened." (Y/N) fiddled with her fingers.

"How many times must I tell you?” Triton boomed, “You could have been seen by those barbaric humans!” 

“Father, they’re not barbaric!” 

“They are dangerous. I will be long gone in the muck before I see my youngest daughter snared by some fisher-eater’s hook.” Triton crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I am not a child!” She called back. 

“Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady. As long as you live in this ocean, you’ll obey my rules.” He turned to go back to the throne. 

“But, if you would just listen-” 

“Not another word - and I am never, NEVER to hear of you going to the surface again. Is that clear?” He didn’t even look at her, just tossing a glance over his shoulder. Tears pooled up in her eyes, she swam out of the throne room. Flounder came up behind her.  They both swam all the way to her secret cave where she had started collecting her human treasures. 

‘Are you okay, (Y/N)?” Flounder asked. 

She shook her head, “If only I could make him understand.” She sniffled, “I just don’t see things the way he does. I don’t see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.” She swam to one of her shelves, motioning to the various items. 

“I mean, look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?” She swept her arms out, “Look at this trove, treasures untold. How many wonders can this cavern hold? Looking around here you’re probably think that I have everything that I would need. I’ve got gadgets, gizmos, whozits, whatzits. And thingamabobs, I must have twenty of those. But, I want more.” She grabbed a flimsy thin thing that had colored art of people near the beach. 

“I wanna be where the people are. I wanna see them dancing. Walking around on those...feet. Feet. Flipping my fins, I won’t get too far.” She motioned to her tail, “Legs are required for jumping, dancing, walking along down the...what was it? Ah, the street. Up where they walk, run, stay all day in the sun. Wandering free, I wish I could be part of that world.”

She sighed, “What I would give if I could live out of these waters. What I would pay to spend a day warm on the sand. And I betcha on land they understand, bet they don’t reprimand their daughters. Bright young women, sick of swimming and ready to stand.” Flounder only watched her rant, following her around the cave. 

“I’m ready to know what the people know. Ask them my questions and get some answers. Like what’s a fire and why does it...does...burn. I just wish I could be part of the human world.” She sighed, resting on a large rock. 

Suddenly a large crashing brought both of their attention to Sebastian who was scuttling around the cave. 

“Sebastian!?” They both shouted. 

“(Y/N), have you gone mad? How-what-what is all this?” He clicked. 

“It’s my collection. Of things.” She said.

“Ah your collection. Hmm.” He thought a moment, “IF YOUR FATHER KNEW ABOUT THIS HE’D-”

“You’re not gonna tell him are you?” Flounder swam up to Sebastian. 

“Oh please, Sebastian. He would never understand.” She pleaded. 

“Your highness. You are under a lot of pressure down here. Come with me, I’ll take you home and get you something to help you feel better.” As he said this, the cave went black, meaning a ship was passing overhead. With an excited giggle, she started her way up towards the surface, Flounder followed while Sebastian called after her. She swam up until she was looking across the floor of the ship. It seemed the humans were having a little party. They were laughing and music was playing. One of these men was the most handsome creature she had ever seen. He was tall, his hair was longer and a brown color. He had the kindest looking smile. 

A short man with shorter came up to the tall man. 

“Congrats, First mate.” He chuckled, patting his back, Here, I wanted to show you this.” 

The tall man took the picture, “The woman and white case. First picture of our first hunt together. Thanks.” 

“No problem. Bitch.” 

“Jerk.” He chuckled. That must be his name. Bitch. It sounded cool.

From up above, the sky grew dark and thunder rumbled in the sky. 

“SEA STORM! STAND FAST! SECURE THE RIGGING!” One of the man shouted. (Y/N) and Flounder swam a ways from the ship, the violent thrashing of the waves was too dangerous to be around.

-

 A large wave crashed into the ship, causing the Dean to loose his footing, falling and sliding across the deck, holding onto the bars of the ship top. 

“Dean! Hang on!” The Sam shouted over the wind. 

“WE’RE GOIN DOWN, LADS! GET TO THE BOATS!” The sailors made their way to the boats. Sam went to follow, but his life line to the mast was tangle around his feet. 

“I’m stuck!” He called, but the rest of the sailors had gotten to the life boats. 

“SAM!” Dean called. He was about to call back his brother’s name but the tallest wave he had ever seen crashed down on the ship, plunging him down into the depths. 

(Y/N) watched the ship go down, “Oh no!” She dived down, Flounder calling to her. 

“It’s too dangerous!” He bubbles fell on deaf ears as she swam down into the wreck, seeing the tall man. His eyes were closed and little bubbles came from his lips. She grabbed the sharp silver stick from his belt cutting the rope, grabbing him under his arms and pulling him towards the surface. When they broke the surface, she pulled him all the way into shore, laying him on the beach. The storm had gone as quickly as it came. 

(Y/N) looked over him, brushing wet hair from his face. He looked so peaceful. He suddenly turned his head to the side, coughing up water loudly, taking deep gulping breathes. She pulled away, then came back when he was back on his back, he eyes still closed. 

“Oh what I would give to live where you are. What would I pay to stay here besides you. What do I do to see you smile? Just you and me and I could be part of your world.” She spoke softly, tracing his face.  

-

Sam slowly opened his eyes a bit, the bright sun making it too hard to see. He could see the outline of someone above him. He could hear a soft, sweet voice humming, the same song that he had heard earlier that day. 

“Sam!” He heard a voice in the distance, the person above him looked in the direction and quickly moving away, followed by a splash in the water. He heard footsteps approaching, Dean kneeling down next to him. 

“Sam! Sam, can you hear me?!” Sam opened his eyes a little more. 

“Yeah, I can hear you. Loud and clear.” 

“You almost gave a heart attack, you know that?” It had been a while since Dean scolded him. 

“There was a girl. She rescued me.” Sam panted, happy to feel the air in his lungs, “She was singing.” 

“Did you drink too much sea water?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, “Come on, up you go big guy.” Dean helped Sam to his feet, helping him back towards the others while medical helped arrived. 

- 

(Y/N) watched them from behind a stone, Flounder and Sebastian at her sides.

“We just gotta forget this whole thing ever happened. The sea king will never know. You won’t tell him, I won’t tell him. I stay in one piece.” He clicked, snapping his claws nervously. 

“I don’t know when, I don’t know how.” She clutched the photo of the two humans to her chest, “But I know something’s starting right now. Watch and you’ll see. Someday I’ll be part of your world.” She said to herself, following after the crustacean. What she didn’t see, however, were the two eels that had been following and watching them. 

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

I definitely didn’t only now just make the sequel for this AU it’s fine. I think I’m afraid that these will never be as good as Beauty and the Beast AU

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated! 

Taglist: 

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@tranzfred

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@tloveswriting

@mikrokosmicjoon

@calaofnoldor

#Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #little mermaid au! #maxineswritingcenter

[ofcowardiceandkings]

I think you mentioned listening to podcasts? Do you have any favorites to reccommend? I've run out of content :(

that i do !

im not entirely sure what kind of podcast you'd be interested in but i'll throw out a few of the goodies in my huge library of stuff , i'll miss out a few of the HUGE podcasts that have been all over tumblr though

a LOT of it is true crime or human interest stuff , or history because im nerd ,, and a few of these dont have nearly enough attention so [shrug] i'll try to keep this short i guess lol this isnt EVERYTHING ive got in my library or listened series' by any measure

i AM gonna pop a shout to both Stuff You Missed in History Class and Stuff You Should Know from iHeartRadio because their HUGE archives have kept me from losing my mind many times over , and they cover a wide range of both important and wacky topics

BomBARDed (ongoing) this is the only fiction podcast i have happening right now really but its DAMN GOOD ONE .... it's an actual-play D&D 5E podcast in the DMs own musically-inspired world, focussed on a group of multiclass bards going to music school !! and all players (+DM) are members of the Texas band Lindby !! and they actually use and play music in the show with one original song an episode !! Kyle's worldbuilding and storycraft are truly incredible, and (Nick) Goodrich, (also Nick) Spurrier, and Ali's characters are in depth and interesting as well as an absolute powerhouse :') i actually made a piece for its first fanzine, Bardic Dreaming, which published earlier this year and is free to view now, all the players and the community are super wholesome its just very good overall 💙

History & Humans;

Fall of Civilisations (ongoing) legit one of my favourite podcast finds, im so glad my youtube autoplayed one of these ... it took me like 2 hours to realise it was 1) not the same as what was playing before and 2) had been on for 2 hours and wasnt near finished lmao. anyway, this is a series by historical fiction writer Paul Cooper, and is honest to all thats good one of the best documentary series ive encountered in years - and ive consumed a LOT of documentaries. it covered the downfall of various civilisations through history, and the episodes run from an hour to FOUR hours depending on the topic. its so chill to listen to and just get done, but over the pandemic all of the episodes have been given full movie-quality video versions too on youtube if youre more of a visual person.

Casting Lots: A Survival Cannibalism Podcast (on series break) yeah that says that lol ... its a SUPER niche topic but its very interesting and treated very well despite being kind of comical at times, the hosts are just naturally funny lol ... it delves around from the history of cannibalism in whole regions to specific incidents as recently as the 1970s, and of course the first episode is about the Donner Party, and it covers things ive never heard of despite being kind of important ?? anyway Alix and Carmella are good eggs

Sawbones (ongoing) i probably dont need to mention much here other than say that Justin and Sydnee saved me from being SO BORED sooo often, the history of medicine is wacky as hell and its what most of my history GCSE was on so [shrugs]

Cautionary Tales (on series break) this was a wild-card find lol ... it's by Tim Harford "the undercover economist" who writes for the Financial Times, and its topics kind of weave modern topics and science with how to learn from historical errors ... its a bit weird but well worth a go, also each series has a few celebrity guest voice actors which is pretty awesome

Ephemeral (ongoing) this is a very strange but thought provoking series about sounds and other things just barely saved. topics include the last castrato, the hello girls, hand-stamped records, the spread of kīkā kila music, and acoustic fossils of wild places.

Neat! The Boozecast (ongoing) history and bartending whats not to like lol ... hosted by Teylor Smirl and now their dad Tommy, they're just digging around in how important booze is to human culture

True Crime (white collar and weirdness);

Swindled (ongoing) this is an amazing show full stop. A Concerned Citizen details some of the most impactful and unruly things to happen in white collar and corporate crime. very factually accurate but given the sheer bullshit of the topics the deadpan snarking is [chefs kiss] absolutely warranted ..

American Scandal (on series break) this one is a series within a series type, and spends a few episodes at a time poking holes in some of America's biggest scandals, from a dramatised but fact-based point of view. such as what the hell was going on with Enron, how big tobacco was forced to own up to covering its own ass, how Iran-Contra happened, etc. it also now has a sister show called British Scandal, which does the same thing for British cases but with a slightly different format.

Missing in Alaska (finished) this was a fascinating series, a deep dive into what happened to two US government officials who disappeared on a small chartered flight in Alaska in 1972. it goes some really strange places, but it actually turned up a lot of previously unknown information through the audience. John Walczak's new series in a new feed is Missing on 9/11 which looks into what happened to Dr Sneha Philip.

Pretend (ongoing) Host Javier Leiva holds interviews with anyone living a lie, or who have been touched by them. con artists, snake oil salesmen, former cult members, catfishing victims, anyone and everyone.

Power: The Maxwells (finished) hosted by journalist Tara Palmeri, the story of media tycoon Robert Maxwell from nothing to empire to mysterious death and the scandals uncovered after he was gone.

Lets Talk About Sects (ongoing) Sarah Steele covering cults from around the world, in particular those in Australia - where she is from. She often has former members on the show to share their stories, and share knowledge of how they left. each story has the relevant content warnings at the start of each episode.

Brainwashed (finished) investigation of the CIA's covert mind control experiments, centred on the experiments performed at a hospital in Montreal, and its cultural impact.

Dr Death (2 series finished) two series investigating huge cases of fraud and medical malpractice, and how they were brought to a stop. series 1 covers Dr Duntsch and his horribly butchered neurosurgery, series 2 covers Dr Fata and his fraudulent cancer clinic

The Immaculate Deception (finished) untangling the weird and disturbing fertility fraud of Dr Jan Karbaat, who fathered children himself through his fertility clinic, and the impact of his deception. later episodes also touch on other similar cases.

True Crime (Violent/General);

The Casual Criminalist (ongoing) Simon Whistler of-the-many-youtube-channels cold reads a script about the case of the day, with some of his daft commentary thrown in.

Southern Fried True Crime (ongoing) Crimes from the American South hosted by Erica Kelley, she puts all the facts out there but refreshingly for true crime she doesnt hesitate to tell you if she thinks someone is human garbage lol

They Walk Among Us (ongoing) probably one of the most popular UK crime podcasts, very measured and well put together, not weird or annoying about it either.

All Crime No Cattle (ongoing, feed slowed down for now) specifically about crimes from Texas, hosted by Erin and Shay, they're very sensitive hosts and a lot of the cases they cover shed light on why the Texas criminal system is how it is or show an impact at a national level

Canadian True Crime (ongoing) Canadian crime from an Aussie who's lived there for a decade, Kristi is again a sensitive and measured host covering some important topics

True Crime (Violent/Deep Dive);

Hitman (finished) journalist Jasmyn Morris digs around in the sticky tangle around a book published by fringe publisher Paladin Press, and its apparent use as a blueprint in the killing of a mother, her friend and her 8 year old boy for financial gain.

Camp Hell: Anneewakee (ongoing) this series is exploring how a wilderness camp "correctional facility" was endorsed by the Georgia care and juvenile reform system, despite widespread abuses and shady practices the whole time. warning for csa and child cruelty throughout.

True Crime Bullshit (on series break) this one is a huge huge rabbithole but a very interesting one where the host Josh Hallmark has spent years digging into the life and potential crimes of Israel Keyes. Keyes is often mentioned as a serial killer with no pattern, but in picking it apart thats not quite true, and has sparked some re-evaluations of missing persons cases and stumbling upon information the FBI has redacted organically. there's also a series in the middle looking into the crimes of Kelly Cochran

Forgotten: Women of Juárez (finished) this series looks into the huge numbers of missing women of Ciudad Juárez, the strange circumstances surrounding them, and the potential cover-ups and corruptions on both sides of the border, trying to give a voice to all of the forgotten women and girls and their families without answers. the series itself is finished, but a spanish language edition is being released every week now.

aaaaaand i'll call it there before i list everything lol, i hope you find something to plug your boredom hole with !!

#audio #rory's ramblings #podcasts #asks #anon #long post

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Withheld {One-Shot}***

Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Some Fluff, NSFW, SMUT, Slight Angst, Lots Of Words

Words: 5.7k

Note: I had a hard time coming up with something that reader, Y/N would be pissed about without bringing some angst. I began writing this at 6am, so this is what my brain came up with. I hope you all enjoy it.

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jesus, I can’t wait to see you. it’s been way too long.”

 You smiled as you stared at him on the FaceTime call. You loved being able to hear how much he missed you. he didn’t need to say the actual words, you could tell.

 “I know, six weeks is a long time.”

 On the screen you watched as Chris stretched like a preening cat across your bed. You couldn’t wait to trail your fingers across his chest and play with his chest hair. It had become an unconscious thing you did whenever cuddled in bed together.

 “Remember that pact we made early on when we got married?”

A smirk spread across your face because you knew just what he was talking about. “And what pact is that husband?”

 “Oh you know out after hours vows. Never go to bed angry, never fight about stupid things even if I’m being really stupid.”

 “Never leave the other without a kiss, never go more than four hours without a call or text,” you continued.

 “Uh-huh, keep going.” Chris was now smiling widely showing off every perfect tooth in his perfect mouth. No wonder this man was a movie star and lusted after by nearly ninety-eight percent of the human population.

 “No, you seem to know what you want to get to. By all means husband.”

 “Never go more than three weeks without making love,” Chris finished.

 You nodded knowing this was the vow he meant. you remembered making it. You were two bleary-eyed love drunk fools standing in a tree light beach cottage in Nantucket that was filled with red roses and white lilies of the valley and candles. You both were so disgustingly happy and enamored with each other that you didn’t care that you’d waited the last six weeks to make love hoping to make your wedding night even more special or the fact that you were both more than ready to end that love drought. All you cared about was holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes to say even more vows, vows that were all unique that held a deeper meaning for the two of you.

 “Did I lose you?”

 You snapped out of your memories and focused back onto Chris. “Sorry, I was back in Nantucket.”

 Chris smiled widely and sighed. “I’m in Nantucket every night and for the better part of my days.”

 “I love you, Evans.” It was the only possible thing you could say. The way he smiled at you made your stomach flutter. After all these years, you were still madly in love with him.

 “I love you more, Evans.”

 The two of you spent the next forty minutes just talking and staring at each other like the two love drunk fools you were the night of your wedding.

  -Four Day Later-

 After working your ass off and rearranging the rest of your obligations you were able to shave off six days of your time away. Unbeknownst to Chris, you were thirty minutes from home and more than ready to show him just how much you’d missed him. Needing a way to contain your anxious energy you finished answering emails and messages to keep yourself busy. When you got home you saw Chris’ car in the roundabout driveway which only increased your excitement.

 After thanking your driver, you quietly climbed the stairs leaving your bags in the foyer. Your only thought was surprising your husband and wrapping your arms and legs around his body. You could almost feel the tightness of his grip around your body. You missed the cocooning warmth and safety you always felt. As you came upon your bedroom door you expected to see him sprawled across the bed with his laptop across his lap. You were disappointed when you found the bedroom empty—he wasn’t there.

 For the next five or so minutes, you searched your seven-bedroom, nine bath home for the love of your life but everywhere you checked you came up empty handed. By the time you thought to check his office, you were already more than a little antsy. The closer you got to the door you could hear sounds from behind it. unable to make it out you stopped in front of it. it was then you heard loud animated moans and cursing. It didn’t take long for those moans to pick up in volume and intensity. You couldn’t believe this.  

 You nearly busted down the door from a mixture of excitement, curiosity, and disbelief. As you opened the door and stood in the doorway you saw just what your husband was up to at three in the afternoon. Chris was in a reclining position at his desk, but he was not directly behind it, he was angled diagonally which gave you a full view of what was happening. The moans intensified in the way a performing porn actress would carry on and there was Chris with his head tilted back, eyes shut, mouth ajar just going at it.

 You stood there and watched with a clenched jaw. This would have been sexy as hell under any other circumstance, but the current circumstances were less than ideal. Chris’ moans and whimpers overcast those of the porn stars he was watching, and you watched on as he bit his bottom lip and sped his hand. He was close, you knew all his tells. 

Sure enough, you watched him shoot stream after stream into the air only for it to come splattering back down onto his fisted hand and navy-blue polo shirt. His grunts were staggered as he arched his back from his chair. Thirty seconds in and he was still coming. Chris released a long groan while squeezing his length as he stroked up. His eyes opened and it was then he jumped and lurched forward in complete and utter shock from the recycling diagonal position he was in.  

 “Y/N,” Chris yelped out as he frantically reached for the iPad that was on the desk.

 It should have been an amusing sight, him, pants mid-thigh, dick poking straight out like a lightsaber, hands covered in white jizz that also decorated his shirt, but it was not amusing. You were pissed. You’d just caught your husband watching porn and jerking off.

 “Baby--,” Chris began with a look on his face that spoke of shame, embarrassment, and regret.

 “Save it, Christopher!”

 You spun on your heels and walked back down the hall you’d just came from.

 “Y/N, wait. Ouch! Fuck!” You heard a loud bang, things falling and rustling as you made your way up the stairs to your bedroom not caring if he’d seriously hurt himself. He could handle it himself.

 When you made it to the room, you stripped and made your way into the shower. The flight was a long one and you needed to release some newly added stress. A few minutes into your shower in came Chris.

 “Baby,” he began. You felt the breeze when he opened the shower door and you glared at him.

 “Get out.”

 “What? Come on, don’t be that way.”

 “Get out Christopher!” For emphasis, you elbowed him in his rib. Chris groaned and staggered back making the shower door bang shut. You ignored him and continued to take your shower.

 “Darlin’—I missed you.”

 “Whatever! Try saying that when you’re not wearing your Scarlet letter all across the front of your shirt,” you speared at him. Chris looked at the front of his shirt to see the speckled spots of half dried come.

 “Shit.” With that, he was out of the bathroom. Rolling your eyes, you practiced your meditation breathing. This man was going to make you go off.

 After barely two minutes he was back in a fresh white tee. “Baby look, I’m sorry. I was missing you something terrible and I kept thinking about you and before I knew it I was hard and wanting you. I don’t even know what happened.”

 “What happened was you decided to search through a porn site and watch porn to jerk off to. That is what happened Christopher. Remember those after hour vows that you brought up a few days ago?”

Chris hung his head. He remembered very well. “Y/N--.”

 “No. It was you who brought it up, you vowed neither of us would turn to porn for anything, that we would turn to each other. Why else did we make those random videos?! You decided to say fuck that and turn to some other woman who is acting. You had our videos!”

 “Fuck! I know, I didn’t think baby. I just—.” He stuttered as if he couldn’t find the right words, or he didn’t know what to say. After a few tries, he sighed out and hung his head again. “I’m sorry.”

 “Get out! You know how I feel about porn. Get out!” The second time you shouted louder. He didn’t protest at all; he simply turned and gave you your wish.

 In all your years married you’d never watched porn. There was a once in a blue moon you watched it together when you were dating as a means for foreplay, but it quickly faded when you began to feel a little weird about it wondering if he was more turned on by the women he saw or if it was you who did the trick. After a heartfelt chat, he agreed without hesitation to cut it out completely while reassuring you that you were the source of all his desire and arousal. Not only had he watched it just now, but you’d watched him find his release from it. Not you. As far as you were concerned you were rightfully and justifiably angry.

 You stayed in the shower longer than you normally would have. By the time you came out, it was a little after six. You were hoping Chris wasn’t in the room when you came out and were relieved when you got your wish. You wanted to just go to sleep but hunger prevented it. As you were about to walk out to find some food, Chris walked in carrying bags from your favorite restaurant. 

“I got dinner. I was planning on cooking for you when you got back but I wasn’t prepared tonight.”

 “Clearly you had a one-track mind.” Chris sighed but didn’t respond to your snide remark.

 Instead, he put the bags down and began piling the containers of food onto the bed. The smells that filled the room were delectable. Your mouth watered from the scent of the garlic and basil. If it wasn’t for that you would have walked off, but you were not a fool to ignore your favorites. You went over to your side of the bed, got comfortable and dug in. Chris knew you were pissed so he didn’t bother making small talk though you knew it killed him. 

You knew he wanted to talk about your trip and fall back into the comfortable groove that you always resided in. When he allowed you to pick show after show, you knew he felt the gravity of his mistake. Still, you didn’t speak, didn’t attempt to console him or even unburden him with the blessing of your forgiveness. You decided you’d let him suffer.

 By the time one rolled around you ignored him some more and turned your back to go to sleep. His sigh was a heavy one and if you were nicer you may have said good night, but you didn’t give a shit about pleasantries.

 “Baby,” Chris began as he shifted his body in the bed. You could tell he now faced you on his side.

 “Leave me alone before I make you sleep in the guest room, Christopher.”

 His response was a mixture of a deflated sigh and a frustrated groan but he didn’t protest. He knew better than to push you closer to the edge.

 The next day was not a normal day in your household. Normally you’d have a loved up breakfast in bed and then a steamy shower before you separated for the day if you both had work to do, or you’d lounge in the house together never being more then a few feet apart. That was not the case. you went about your business in your office while Chris kept clear of you. any attempt he made your response was dullness. You didn’t reciprocate or encourage; it was simple appeasement.

 He brought you your favorite breakfast, you didn’t acknowledge him when he came in. He brought you lunch, again you ignored him. He tried to make small talk you busied yourself. Through it all, he didn’t give up or slink away except to lick his wounds only to return again to continued trying. You were impressed but still not amused. So the day passed with minimal conversation between you unless it was about work or the household.

 “So you’re just going to ignore me now?”

 Something in his voice made you look up to acknowledge him. You didn’t even realize the sun had set or that he wore one of your favorite colors on him. Chris had an expectant look on his face that somehow still showed his timidness.

 “We haven’t seen each other physically in weeks, almost two months and you’re just going to ignore me? I let it go last night and most of today but come on, Y/N. We have to talk. We promised we wouldn’t go to bed angry.”

 Taking a slow deep breath, you leaned back in your chair. “I’m not angry.”

 “The hell you’re not. You walked in on me jerking off to porn. You’re angry.”

 “Glad you’ve entered the admittance stage of your shame, but nope, not angry.”

 Chris rolled his eyes then crossed his arms. It was the truth, you weren’t angry. You were pissed. He stared you down as if he expected you to quake underneath the penetration of his sky blue eyes.

 “I just find it funny how you’re not okay with me breaking a vow but you’re pretty glib when you do it.”

 “I’m sorry, okay. I fucked up. I didn’t plan it and I honestly don’t know how I ended up on the site anyway. I didn’t do it to hurt you or even give it any deep thought. It was a muscle reaction,” Chris explained.

 “So it’s a muscle reaction to go searching for other naked women rather than scroll through your library for pictures and videos of the one you married?”

 He walked inside and perched at the edge of your desk then leaned to you taking your hand in his much larger one. He didn’t speak for a few moments, both of you realizing this was the first time you’d touched in weeks. Everything in you wanted to melt into him and fall back into place and from the look on his face, you could tell he wanted the same thing.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. tell me you believe that, princess.”

 “Of course I know you don’t want to hurt me, Chris. Just because you don’t want to do something doesn’t mean you haven’t hurt me though.”

 He nodded fully understanding and accepting it. “I don’t want any of that I swear to you. None of them do it for me. You know that. I just--.”

 “Needed something different, someone, different?”

 “No. God, no. I like what I have—I love what I have. I don’t need anything different. How can I when we’re always changing things up. I want you and you alone.”

 You studied him and searched his eyes for any hint of a lie. You didn’t find one, but it didn’t make everything okay.

 “I know that doesn’t make everything okay,” Chris spoke as if he read your mind.

 “Let me make it up to you.” He pulled your hand, rolling you to him. “Please.” Chris brought his lips to you and you were powerless to move or stop him, so you allowed him to kiss you, allowed him to tease your lips and your tongue and make your belly do somersaults. You quickly lost yourself and began to give in. when you felt his hand on your thigh you rolled back away from him.

 “I have work to do.” Focusing back onto your laptop and what you were doing before he came in you forced yourself to keep your eyes straight ahead and not on him. After almost a minute he stood and walked out without another word.

Over the next few days, Chris didn’t stop his attempts to get closer or remedy the wrong he’d done. He was ever the attentive husband and the caring partner. He cooked every night if he could, left you sweet notes around the house that spoke of what he loved about you or how much he loved you. he also never stopped trying to get physically closer. 

By the middle of the week, he’d upped his game from sweet kisses on your forehead, cheek, and lips to deep soulful kisses out of the blue. Now he was up to backing you onto any nearby wall, pressing his body against yours and trying to kiss the breath from your lungs. He was doing a damn good job with tempting you but still, you refused every advance he made before it got anywhere close to sex.

 If his hand roamed your body you pulled it away, if you felt his arousal you walked away. At night when you went to sleep every time he cuddled closer you got up and went to the bathroom only to come back with your body pillow. When you realized it was an automatic deterrent you began sleeping with it every night to Chris’ dismay. By Thursday it was amusing the tactics he deployed. He was motivated and determined, and every rejection and refusal only made him even more so.

 You weren’t angry anymore; it had drastically reduced over the week. The more discomfort you saw Chris in the more amusement it brought you. A punishment was not supposed to be enjoyable. You wondered how long he’d go without bringing it up because you knew he’d realized you were refusing him on purpose as a punishment. He still had yet to bring it up even though you knew for a fact he’d taken several cold showers because of his arousal.

 The night you walked in on him in the shower, you saw the extent of his discomfort. He was standing under the stream of cold water with an evident hard-on and his head hung, and shoulders slumped. His junk wasn’t blue per se but it definitely didn’t look normal. Instantly, you felt horrible. When he turned and your eyes met you opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. You walked out of the bathroom instead.

 Almost an hour later Chris came out with a towel wrapped around his waist only to disappear again out of the bedroom door. When he came back he was dressed and walking slower with his legs in a wider stance. As he settled beside you, you fought off the urge to snicker.

 “Are you okay?”

 “Fine.” His answer was terse and a complete lie.

 “I saw you in the shower, Chris.”

 “If you saw me in the shower then you know how I am. You bringing it up now is not an inquiry about my wellbeing it is spite and for your own amusement.”

 He was right. Damn it, you thought. You hated that he knew you so well.

 “A week, Y/N. A week and you’ve been pushing me away every chance you get. No matter what I do or what I say. I’m losing my mind here and you don’t seem to even care.” As he spoke you could see the uneasiness rising up in him, he’d reached his breaking point. You didn’t speak as he continued to rant, you just let him get it all out.

 After almost five minutes he was silent again with a clenched jaw and his hands cupping his junk. He looked so sad like he’d lost his best friend and wanted revenge for it.

 “So—was the porn and nut worth it?” the look he gave you was filled with so much aggression you just had to laugh. It was meant to be a small little giggle, but it came out as a full on obnoxious holler that turned into a cackle with you wiggling your legs in the air. Chris grunted loudly and began rising from the bed. Normally it would have been a quick action but tonight it was a strategic multi- step maneuver that only made you laugh louder. He was not amused. He walked out of the bedroom with your laughter still lingering in the air.

 By Saturday you were ready to end his punishment because though it was one for him it was also one for you. You were struggling too; you were in pain. It had now been eight weeks since you were together, and you were tired of waiting. Chris was gone for morning and most of the afternoon visiting his family and a couple friends. He didn’t ask you if you wanted to go with him, no doubt needing time away from you. You weren’t bothered by it because it gave you time to get yourself ready and make it a night for him to remember.

 After running some errands and picking up ingredients for dinner and come candles and novelty items you returned home to begin prep seduction night. By three he hadn’t returned yet which gave you even more time to get yourself together. Six rolled around and Chris was still not home, it was then you called him, a call he didn’t answer so you texted. Ten minutes went by without a response and your mood was quickly souring.

 When you saw his headlights light up your roundabout driveway you’d finished cooking and prepping had opened a bottle of wine and were on your third glass and had been waiting for almost forty minutes. You were annoyed especially since the only response he’d sent to you via text was “soon.” When you asked when he would be home, his answer was “soon”. When you asked if he was almost home, he sent “soon”. You were ready to throw your phone from frustration.

 You heard the front door open and then heard it slam shut forcefully and that was the last straw. “This is soon, Christopher!”

 As you spun around to confront him, you only saw his face momentarily before he threw you over his shoulder. You squealed but didn’t have enough time to react before he was throwing you across the kitchen island right onto your back.

 “What the hell are you doing!”

 “I realized; I’ve been approaching this all wrong. Normally when you have an attitude and start acting like a brat as you’ve been doing for the last few days I respond differently. I’ve been tiptoeing and being submissive. I am not submissive, Y/N. I’ve been doing the opposite of what I should have been doing.” His voice was deep and completely dominating.

 “Which is what, throwing me across a counter?”

 “No, fucking it out of you.” Your jaw dropped. Holy hell, you thought. He’d truly reached his breaking point; this was it and you were fucked.

 “Chris--.” It was a warning, a warning you hoped would deter him from doing what every fiber of his being was telling him to do. Your warning did absolutely nothing. Using his thighs, he pushed your already parted legs further apart while using his hands to pin yours to the island. You recognized the look in his eyes you hadn’t seen it in a while. He was tired of your games, your teasing, your torture, and your neglect.

 For the first time Chris looked over your body and noticed the silk floral robe you wore that was practically falling off of you already. It was then he realized you were fully naked. “On the drive here, I thought about making this torturous for you, going so slow you’d feel my pain of seven days plus the six weeks before. I thought about new ways to deprive you of the release I know you desperately want. I came up with quite a few things, but I’ve changed my mind. Slow isn’t enough of a punishment. Instead, I think the opposite will do quite well.” His smirk was devious, but it didn’t scare you. You knew he would never physically hurt you or do anything you didn’t want. You were that in tune.

 Chris let your wrists go then took one step back. “On your knees, Y/N and I dare you to talk back.” Despite every instinct telling you to do it and see what he does, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. The ho in you wanted to act out and get crippled, the practical you knew you had to walk tomorrow. You slipped off the counter and dropped to your knees before him. you could see his need urgently pressing against his jeans. After a few moments, you peeked up at him.

 “This isn’t your first time Y/N, don’t act like you don’t know what to do.”

 You bit your bottom lip and slowly began undoing his jeans. You weren’t doing it to tease him, you were honestly nervous right now. It was always a dicey game of punishing your husband, especially in a way by with-holding sex. The outcome could have been a nice roll in the hay afterward or a downright back breaking night. It looked like you were in for the latter. Once he was free his groan was deep and strangled. All along his shaft and balls, there were violent looking purplish veins. You couldn’t stop your grimace.

 “Looks painful, right? Interesting that a married man would get blue balls, especially deliberate blue balls from his wife.”

 You couldn’t stop the retort before it slipped out, “So I guess jerking off to porn wasn’t worth it after all. I’d say said married man deserved everything he got from said wife, blue balls included.” Chris’ lips smiled but his eyes darkened. Before you knew it he was pulling you to your feet before he pushed you into the island bending you over so your ass was poking right out for him.

 “That’s fair. Just remember seven is the lucky number and since you love it so much, blue balls is the magic word,” Chris sneered into your ear. You could feel the weight of him as he hunched over you and used his fingers to circle your opening. He growled then.

 “You’re soaking wet already. Who were you really punishing sweetheart, me or you?” You refused to answer that, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. “It’s okay, I already know.” There was no warning before he slowly sank into you. For the first few inches, it was painfully slow until he slammed into you to the hilt pulling a screech from you.

 “Fuck!” His shout echoed off the walls and shook you making your legs tremble.

 Chris didn’t bother giving you a moment to adjust, you really didn’t need it. You needed more but you were sure you couldn’t take what was coming. Chris set an early pace and it was fast, deep, and hard. Every snap forward of his hips had you grunting and lurching making your head snap back and forth. It didn’t take long before you were panting and moaning enjoying every second of the fuck you’d been dying for.

 Chris grabbed your arms and held them behind you angling your upper half up propelling him even deeper. “Fuck!”

 “Mmm, you feel this dick, Y/N? Do you feel it?” You nodded unable to find your voice. Chris continued delivering his brutal thrusts that made precise connection with your g-spot. You knew you were seconds from coming and you knew when you did your strength would go with it.

 “Shit, shit, shit! Oh god!”

 Chris began rotating his hip drilling his hardness against your walls and every crevice of you. A shiver broke free and brought with it your release that was a deafening scream and weakened limbs. Chris was there to hold you steady though. If you lived closer to people they might have called the police from thinking you were being murdered.

 “Oh my god, yes Chris! Fuck me! Don’t fucking stop!” He lifted one of your legs and plopped it onto the island giving him a new angle and an impossible depth that you were not prepared for. Jerking from him you gasped but he wasn’t having it. Chris held you in place and brought you to him by pulling your arms back.

 “Don’t run from this dick sweetheart. Take every—fucking—inch!” As he spoke he pressed forward even more stealing all your breath. You were left he’d in the air with your mouth hung open without a sound coming out. He groaned in your ear then bit your lobe to suck it in his mouth before it slipped out.

 “Look at me, darlin’.” You looked back to him to see his teeth firmly clenching his bottom lip. the look in his eyes was a conflicting one, one that spoke of gentleness and love but also of revenge and passion. One thing you didn’t see in them was control—he had none now.

 “I love you, princess.”

 Once he got the words out he proceeded to murder your pussy with deliberate, deep, hard thrusts that never slowed, or faded in intensity. From then on out you were a screaming mess. After what felt like an eternity but had turned out to be nothing but short minutes your voice was gone and you’d somehow managed to come three more times. Chris moved as if he weren’t even human at this point. He should have come a long time ago and be passed out, but he was still going, still sending your eyes to the back of your head. You felt him turn your body so you were now on your side with your plopped up leg resting on his shoulder. It was yet another angle that you couldn’t handle. When your hand flew to his belly to push him back his was there to stop you. Your eyes locked with his but the only thing he did was shake his head.

 “Fuck!” 

“Was your little game worth it?” He smirked as he said it and you knew he was mocking you. Instead of giving you a chance to respond he snapped his hips forward and ground into you once again sending your eyes to the back of your head. You held onto his hand for dear life.

 Every time your eyes met it only made the moment that much more powerful. Even through revenge punishment fucking the love you felt for each other was evident, and the connection between you was always so strong. Chris bent to you and kissed you to demonstrate the passion that you prayed would never fade between you. You kissed him back with everything you had holding his head to you. You began to meet him for every thrust he delivered. As you kissed his eyes locked with yours and the vulnerability you saw there with each wave of your body fueled you to take even more. You clenched tightly around him and felt him spear you twice then a third before he broke your kiss and shouted along with you as he poured every drop of himself inside of you to join your release.

 For several long minutes, the two of you just laid there on the counter. He had his head resting on your breast but didn’t dare pull from your body. When you felt him stir you also felt the ache between your legs. “Oh god,” you whispered with hoarseness. Chris slowly pulled back from you and yelped once he pulled out. You instantly felt the emptiness and with it brought the pain of through fucking. You dropped your hands to your crotch.

 “Tell me, was it worth it?” You glared at him then rolled your eyes, there was no need to answer. You honestly didn’t know which one to give.

 “Fuck, I’m still hard,” Chris informed. Your eyes dropped to his still hard cock and it didn’t look any less violent and intimidating. As he moved to slide back into you, you scurried backward locking your legs hoping to deter him.

 “Woah, hold your fucking horses. Jesus Christ Evans, give me a fucking minute.”  Scrunching your face you allowed the pain to show. “Oh my god.”

 “Are you okay?”

 “Are you really asking me that right now? This is what you wanted. You wanted to teach me a lesson by fucking me into submission. Congratulations Sir Fucksalot!” Chris snorted and laughed making you laugh with him. He stepped to you and kissed your cheek and forehead.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off like that. I just—I couldn’t control myself. I lost it.”

 “I know, I saw it. It’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have used sex as a weapon.”

 “I deserved it and no it wasn’t worth it. I’m sorry.” The two of you warmly smiled at each other before pressing your foreheads together for a tender moment. In the sweetness of the moment, the thud of his hard dick brought you both back.

 “Jesus Chris, keep him under control. This pussy is out of service and closed for healing.” You slipped off the island and slowly walked out of the kitchen.

 “Wait, what!? For how long? Y/N, you can’t leave me like this.”

 “For as long as it takes, an hour, a day, a week. Who knows.”

 “Y/N.”

 “Mm-Mn Chris I don’t wanna hear it. you should have thought about that before you went full on super soldier mode.”

 You slowly climbed the stairs and played up the pain. It hurt of course but it wasn’t excruciating. This was not the first time he’d fucked you like the world was ending. You knew you’d be fine in a few hours. Chris came up behind you, scooped you in his arms and planted a kiss on your cheek.

 “You know what they say, the only way to get over the pain is to push through it.” You snorted and laughed with him joining in as he continued to make his way to your bedroom.

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