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rachelombre · 2 years

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Beach Concert

This is an old work I forgot I was writing back in 2016, which takes place in the Love is Strange Visual Novel universe. It's Chasefield because I'm me. I want to post this now, because I'd rather share it than let it languish in my drive.

The sky above the beach is now a deep navy with stripe of dying orange at the horizon, but according to this photo, it’s just black with a red smear.

“Shit, I wasted film.”

Victoria laughs as she crouches and aims her lens at the sea. Her shutter clicks a few times. “There’s an answer to your problem, but I’ve said it so many times I don’t feel like saying it again.” she says.

She’s not wrong - she has told me that many times before. I’m still keeping my Polaroids. I see her grin become a frown as she looks at her camera screen. She mouths the word “fuck” and I tap her shoulder.

“What’s that about digital being superior again?” Even in the darkness her eyes can be piercing. She stands up, a little taller than usual, and walks back to the logs we left our stuff by. The rolled cuffs of her jeans flirt with the sand with every step.

“Photoshoot’s over.”

She packs up her camera and lens carefully into her case. I shut my camera and find a spot big enough to fit it in my bag. Victoria starts walking, case in hand, to her car parked nearby.

“Now it’s time for our date, right?” Her hand is on the handle of the trunk.

“Like I said, the photoshoot is over,” she says as she pops the trunk. A loud sigh escapes her and her weight shifts to one leg. “Really, Max?”

“Hey, what’s a visit to the beach without a guitar?” I briefly catch her eyes as they roll, and she exchanges her case for a blanket. We make our way back to the logs, this time with my guitar and the big blanket. There’s a fire pit in front of the logs, and the sun is officially gone from the sky. If this fire doesn’t get lit this “photoshoot and maybe hangout” is gonna end pretty soon.

“Hey Victoria, can I use your lighter?” She fishes around the pockets of her hoodie and removes a slender metallic rectangle, nothing like the plastic throwaways I’ve seen Chloe with before. It comes to life after a few flicks. “I still can’t believe you’re wearing a hoodie and jeans.”

“Okay, first of all,”, she says, “these jeans cost about as much as your laptop.” I blow on the glowing kindling. “And second,” she continues, “I’m eighteen, Max. I know what jeans are.” The flames take hold and I join Victoria on the log, where she’s draped the blanket. Victoria always looks like she’s giving 110%, so I guess it’s just weird to picture her in anything less. Her hoodie is way nicer than mine, though.

“Well I think they look good on you.” Her face flushes, which has been happening more and more since we won the contest a few weeks ago. Her “Thanks” is soft, and she shifts in her seat. The gap between us shrinks a little, but there's still a few inches left.

I pull my guitar onto my lap and tune it a little. Her eyes are fixed on my fingers as they twist the pegs. The first few strums are just exploratory. When it sounds right I start strumming a simple tune. Victoria is still quiet, but she’s focused on the fire now. I really hope she’s enjoying this.

My cheeks are warm, but I don't know if it's just because of the fire or some other reason....

After strumming an aimless tune, my hands are ready to play something a little more. It fills the air around us, like playing an impromptu concert for the grass and waves. They wave along back and forth in the breeze. I almost don’t notice the sound right next to me.

“Victoria…” The guitar cuts out. “... were you just singing?” She’s back to blushing now, but the fire looks cool in comparison to her cheeks.

“I don’t… Max, you didn't hear anything.” Bullshit. The firelight touches the side of her head now. Silence again. I can't stand to see her like this.

My shoulder meets hers gently. “Let’s try it again from the top this time.” I start strumming the opening chords again, a silent invitation to her. How long will it take her to accept it? Has it been a few minutes already, or only a few seconds?

No more waiting. My fingers shift to the next chord, and the song begins. Clearing my throat, I prepare to—and there she is. Her eyes are on my feet, but her voice is there. It’s a sweet sound, something that up until the week of the photo contest would have been a juxtaposition. But there really is a sweet side to Victoria. A soft side. A weak side, she would say.

Before I can really enjoy her voice, it quivers and she stops. The grass and the waves are bowing, and I can feel myself involuntarily shiver. How did the fire get so low? I toss some more kindling in and wait for it to grow again. Ah, there’s the warmth… on my side?

The fire is reflected in the corner of her dark grey eyes. Her lips are parted and sometimes I think I can see the puffs of air escaping them. Oh–oh my god. The fire burns, the blanket wraps both of us, and yet I’m frozen. How much time is passing? Has it been a few seconds like this or a few minutes or — I seriously wish I could slow down time right now… moments like this never last long enough.

Now her shoulder nudges mine. I look back into her eyes, and she nods her head gently in the direction of the guitar. “I’m guessing that means one more time?” I say.

“Just play the damn song,” she replies. A little laugh escapes my throat, my left fingers weakly press into the strings, and my right hand shakes into place. The song is almost unrecognizable for the first few strums, until something spreads through my body and solidifies it, starting from the hip and ending in my bobbing hands.

When the last note of the last song rings out, the waves and grass are waving and cheering us on again. Now that my attention isn’t on playing the guitar, I can finally feel the soreness in my cheeks from smiling so much. Suddenly, Victoria’s hand slides onto my thigh, and I whip around only to find Victoria’s eyes are locked on my face. This time she’s really close; so close I can feel hints of her breath against my face with every passing moment. “Max…” She says my name, softly, but with a little scratch in her voice from singing so much. Victoria… It’s now or never, Max. She makes a little gasp when our lips meet, but the surprise quickly fades and she leans into me. I put the guitar on the ground and grab the corner of the blanket, bringing it to hers and closing us behind this curtain.

I hope you enjoyed!

#chasefield #love is strange visual novel #lisvn #max caulfield #victoria chase #maximum victory #lis #life is strange #my art #my writing #fanfiction

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farihanishat-zone · 2 years

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Your Love Is My Destiny

Part 2

He pointed his gun at Emma and was about to shoot her.At the very moment, someone attacked on Ulric's hand and the gun fell somewhere in the ground. That person was wearing a black mask covering his nose and mouth. While he was fighting with Ulric, Emma called Alan again. Alan told her that they are nearby. At the meanwhile they heard siren.Ulric tried to run but he was already surrendered by the police.

" Jake? " Emma went beside the mask man.He turned to her. They locked their eyes at each other. She gently removed his mask and touched the corner of his lips where it was bleeding. She pulled him closer to a tight hug.He hugged her back.

While they were finally together, Emma noticed Alan at a little distance. — Jake,we need to get out of here before you are noticed by Alan.

— No Emma, you can't go with me. The entire department will be after you. They will follow you like a nightmare for your whole life.

Emma grabbed his coller,

— I don't care.Can you hear me?I said, I don't care....I just wanna be with you. Even if it’s gonna cost my life,I am willing to give it up. This time, you are not allowed to leave me. She pulled him close. Her eyes were full of tears. Jake took her hand and placed a kiss on it.

— I won't leave you till my last breathe. Let's go Emma. Let me take you somewhere really far.Where no one can separate us.

They jumped into Emma's car. Emma's eyes were at Jake while he was focusing on driving.

— When I got your massage my mind stopped working. I hardly could think of anything else.My whole mind was in you and your safety. I am sorry Emma. I am extremely sorry.

— And why you are feeling sorry?

He stopped the car and turn to her. There was something in his eyes.. "Guilt??"

— It was me who brought you to this.

— You didn’t forced me.I was the on who wanted to help.

He took her phone and typed something.Then gave it back to her.

— Tell me about it.

— It's my number. No wait!! It isn’t mine. The last digit doesn’t match.

— It’s mine.The other day when Hannah got kidnapped I wanted to sent my number to Thomas.But I was so excited that typed the wrong one which lead them to you.When I realised my mistake I immediately removed the massage.But it was too late, they already contacted you. It's all my fault. Will you ever be able to forgive me ?"

Emma was too shocked. But she pulled herself together.

— " I am not angry at you neither you need to apologise to me. Although it shocks me but I am happy that you made that mistake.

Jake gave her questionable looka.

— If you didn’t make the mistake I might never meet these amazing people. More over I might never meet you. Jake? Do you believe in miracle?

— Not exactly.

— I also didn’t. But after meeting you, miracle seems real to me.It’s our destiny Jake,what brought us here.It's all destined Jake . We are destined.

Emma gave his a smile holding his hand. He looked at her eyes. Jake fixed some hair from her face and finally put his hand on Emma's cheek.He leaned close and Emma closed her eyes. They were so close that they could feel each other breathing. They were about to kiss and Emma's phone buzzed with a massage.She opened it. It was from Alan.

The massage : I know that hacker is with you. I don't know if you are aware about the fact that he is wanted by the goverment.You really helped us Emma.So I don't wish any bad for you.Please ask him to surrender or we have to do it other way.We are coming for him.

#duskwood #mc duskwood #fanfic #mobile #mysterious #duskwood jake #jake donfort #everbyte game #everbyte studios

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gameguides · 1 year

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SpellForce: Conquest of Eo Artificer Recipes

SpellForce: Conquest of Eo Artificer Recipes This guide will show you all current Artificing recipes. There are 116 in total with 29 possibilities for each Base Ore (Mountain Copper, Sky Iron, Corrupted Adamantium and Adamantium). You can also access the SpellForce: Conquest of Eo Wiki page hereI will use the abbreviations used in SureYouCan's Alchemy Potions Guide - E = 3 Elemental Essences - D = 3 Death Essences - L = 3 Life Essences - A = 3 Arcane Essences Note: Life and Death Essences consume (overwrite) each other and can not be combined.

List of Artificer Recipes

Here you can find all artificing recipes. Find out what you need for which artificer.Mountain Copper Glyphs - E - Firewielder I - Grants: Exploit Burn (+6 damage on burning enemies) - L - Healthy I - +10 Health - D - Graverobber I - Grants: Undertaker (Loot 1 remain after won battle) - A - Seer I - +1 Willpower - E-E - Bowman I - +2 Missile Damage - E-L - Mountain Goat I - Grants World Skill: Mine Ore - E-D - Cutthroat I - Grants: Serrated Blades (all attacks can inflict Bleeding) - E-A - Despair I - +1 Death Damage, Melee and Missile attacks inflict Death Damage - L-L - Herbalist I - Grants World Skil: Harvest Plant - L-A - Pathfinder I - +3 Speed - D-D - Vampire I - +6 Damage to Bleeding enemies - D-A - Spider I - Grants: Webbing Touch (all attacks can inflict Rooted - target can't move but perform other actions) - A-A - Owl I - +20% XP - E-E-E - Elementalist I - +50% Elemental Resistance - E-D-D - Ashen I - +20% Elemental Resistance, Grants: Tempted Fire (immunity to burning) - E-D-A - Guardians I - Attacks of Opportunity do not consume actions - E-L-L - Shield I - Grants: Shield Wall (20% Damage Reduction, Exerts Zone of Control, Guard every direction / Aura in a radius of 1 - 20% Damage Reduction) - E-A-A - Rhino I - +20% Physical Resistance - L-L-L - Lifegiver I - +9 Magical Daily Regeneration - L-L-A - White Mage I - +20% White Resistance - L-A-A - Swordmaster I - Grants: Guard Break (All attacks remove Guard from target unit) - D-D-D - Deathlord I - +20% Death Damage Resistance - D-D-A - Necromancer I - +30% chance to catch souls from defeated enemies - A-A-A - Arcanist I - +4 Focus Items - E-E-L - Weapon of the Eel - +3 White Damage, Grants: Piercing Attacks (+6 damage against armored) - E-E-D - Blight I - Grants: Nor's Curse (13 Death Damage - Range 4, Radius 1 / Applies Weakend - -1 Speed, -50% Death Resistance) - E-E-A - Cursed Shackles (Enslave a broken or routed Ally or Enemy in a range of 3 / Enslaved unit will be forced in your service after combat) - E-L-A - Weapon of the Leader - +2 Willpower on Stack - D-A-A - Tome of Occultism - Summon minor demon, +3 ability damage Sky Iron Glyphs - E - Firewielder II - Grants: Firewielder (all attacks can inflict Burning) - L - Healthy II - +200% Daily Regeneration - D - Graverobber II - Grants: Holy Warrior (+6 Damage against Undead) - A - Seer II - +2 Focus - E-E - Bowman II - +2 Missile Range - E-L - Mountain Goat II - Grants: Mountain Guide (stack can traverse mountains and cliffs) - E-D - Cutthroat II - +10% more loot - E-A - Despair II - Grants: Fearless (Immunity to fear) - L-L - Herbalist II - Grants: Gathering Boost (Increase Yield from Harvesting Plants) - L-A - Pathfinder II - Grants: Forest Guide (ignores forest movement penalties) - D-D - Vampire II - Grants: Leech Life (Regains Health equal to 50% of Melee damage dealt.) - D-A - Spider II - Grants: Epidemic (Spread Poison, 4 Range, 2 Radius), Grants: Exploit Poison (+6 Damage against Poisoned) - A-A - Owl II - +10 Research after each won battle - E-E-E - Elementalist II - +5 Elemental Damage, Melee and Missile attacks deal Elemental Damage - E-E-L - Eel II - Grants: Call Lightning (Deal 28 White Damage, Radius 4) - E-E-A - Slaver II - Grants: Follower (no upkeep cost) - E-L-A - Leader II - Grants: Commander (+20% XP on unit and all allies in stack) - E-L-L - Shield II - +2 Armor - E-D-D - Ashen II - adds burning to attacks, Grants: Spread Burning Ability (4 range, 2 radius) - E-A-A - Rhino II - Melee attacks can inflict Stunned (target loses all actions) - L-L-A - White Mage II - +5 White Damage, Melee and Missile Attacks deal White Damage - L-A-A - Swordmaster II - +2 Melee Damage - D-D-D - +5 Death Damage, Melee and Missile Attacks deal Death Damage - D-D-A - Necromancer II - Grants: Undead Officer (+1 Speed for Stack) - D-A-A - Occultism III - +6 Damage against fantastic units - A-A-A - Arcanist II - Apply Silence, Range 5 Items - E-E-D - Shield of Blight - +50% Death Resistance, Grants: Shielded (+2 armor on non-flanking attacks) - E-D-A - Armor of the Guardians - +3 Armor - L-L-L - Trinket of the Lifegiver - +10 Health Regeneration every turn No Valid Recipe - E-E-D-A - E-D-D-A Corrupted Adamantium Glyphs - E - Corrupted Glyph: Firewielder - +6 Damage, Unit gains Burning on start of battle - L - Corrupted Glyph: Healthy - +40 Health, -50% Daily Regeneration - D - Corrupted Glyph: Graverobber - -50% Death Damage Resistance, Grants: Raid Tomb (Destroy Tomb or Graveyard and steal treasures and artifacts) - A - Corrupted Glyph: Seer - +2 Focus, -1 Willpower, Grants: Cleanse Ally (remove negative status effects) - E-L - Corrupted Glyph: Mountain Goat - Grants: Mining Boost (Increase yields from mining) - E-A - Corrupted Glyph: Despair - Grants: Intimidate (-2 Willpower) - L-L - Corrupted Glyph: Herbalist - Grants World Skill: Harvest Plants on all units in stack - L-A - Corrupted Glyph: Pathfinder - +3 Speed for every ally in stack (NOT the unit) - D-D - Corrupted Glyph: Vampire - Grants: Defy Death (Revives at end of battle), Grants: No Regeneration - D-A - Corrupted Glyph: Spider - -20% Healing in Battle, Grants: Poisonous Touch (attacks can inflict Poison) - A-A - Corrupted Glyph: Owl - +8 Focus, -3 Willpower - E-E-E - Corrupted Glyph: Elementalist - 50% Elemental Resistance, All attacks can inflict Enkindled - E-E-D - Corrupted Glyph: Blight - -50% White Resistance, +3 Death Damage on every unit in stack - E-E-L - Corrupted Glyph: Eel - Grants: Eel - All attacks reduce target's focus by 2 - E-E-A - Corrupted Glyph: Slaver - Unit gains +1 Damage, +2 Willpower against Missile attacks for each Enslaved Ally in stack - E-L-L - Corrupted Glyph: Shield - Improved Guard with 50% Damage Reduction - E-L-A - Corrupted Glyph: Leader - +1 attack for each follower - E-D-A - Corrupted Glyph: Guardians - -3 Damage, Grants: Guardian Mend (Heal ally for +15 Health, +1 Willpower, +1 Armor, Range 6) - L-L-L - Corrupted Glyph: Lifegiver - Grants: Lifegiver's Mercy (Restore full Health to an unit, Healing this unit is reduced by 100% for the rest of the Battle) - L-L-A - Corrupted Glyph: White Mage - -10 Melee Damage, adds skill with -50% White Resistance, Removes Guard, Range 5 - L-A-A - Corrupted Glyph: Swordmaster - Grants additional free attack, Unit will be silenced at start of battle (can't use focus abilities, does not affect Titans) - D-D-D - Corrupted Glyph: Deathlord - Unit can't use guard, enemies can't retaliate - D-D-A - Corrupted Glyph: Necromancer - Grants: Soul Catcher (Chance to drop a soul after battle) - D-A-A - Corrupted Glyph: Occultism - Grants: Bloody Eruption (Deal 23 Death Damage, Range 5, user gains Bleeding) - A-A-A - Corrupted Glyph: Arcanist - Grants: Thunderstorm (33 White Damage to 5 random allies or enemies in a radius of 2, Range 5) Items - E-E - Armor of the Bowman - -2 Melee Damage, -1 Armor against Melee, +3 Missile Damage, +1 Missile Range - E-D - Weapon of the Cutthroat - +1 Melee Damage, Grants: Backstab (+6 Damage when flanking) - E-D-D - Trinket of the Ashen - +3 Elemental Damage, -50% Elemental Resistance, Grants: Inferno (Target random enemies within radius of 5 for 5 times and deal 16 Elemental Damage on each hit, can apply Burning) - E-A-A - Armor of the Rhino - Armor with +10 Health, +3 Armor, -1 Speed No Valid Recipe - E-E-E-D - E-D-D-A - E-E-D-D-A Adamantium Glyphs - E - Firewielder IV - At the start of a battle this units gains Flame Armor (+100% Elemental Resistance; Melee attacks can inflict Burning) - L - Healthy IV - +30 Health - D - Graverobber IV - 100% chance to catch Souls of defeated enemies. - A - Seer IV - +4 Focus, Grants: True Sight (Unhides garrison units in vision range) - E-E - Bowman IV - No range penalty on Missile attacks - E-L - Mountain Goat IV - +2 World Movement, Stack can traverse mountains and cliffs - E-D - Cutthroat IV - Grants: First Strike - E-A - Despair IV - Grants: Feared (Fear - 100% Willpower Loss) - L-L - Herbalist IV - Grants: Healer (Unit restores 20 Health every day among all units in the stack except undead) - L-A - Pathfinder IV - Stack can traverse all terrain - D-D - Vampire IV - Grants: Greater Life Leech (Regains Health equal to 100% of Melee damage dealt) - E-E-L - Eel IV - Grants: Discharge (Ability - Deal White damage to each enemy unit within 2 Radius around the user), Grants: Wing Cutter (+6 Damage against units with Flying) - E-E-D - Blight IV - Grants: Exploit Poison (+6 Damage against enemies afflicted by Poisoned), Grants: Poisonous Touch (All attacks can inflict Poisoned.) - E-E-A - Slaver IV - Grants: Slaver (All attacks can inflict Enslaved) - E-L-A - Leader IV - Stack gains -100% Willpower Loss on all sources - E-D-D - Ashen IV - +10 Elemental Damage - E-D-A - Guardians IV - Grants: Effortless Defense (Attacks of Opportunity and Retaliate don't consume actions) - E-A-A - Rhino IV - Grants: Steadfast (Immunity to all negative status effects) - L-L-L - Lifegiver IV - This unit and every ally in its stack gains: Heals daily to 100% Health. - L-L-A - White Mage IV - +2 White Damage, Grants: Praise the Light (Deal White damage to each enemy unit in 1 Radius around a position in 6 Range) - D-D-D - Deathlord IV - Grants: Executioner (Melee attacks execute an enemy if its Health falls below 30%) - D-D-A - Necromancer IV - Guarantees Soul, Grants: Raise Undead, Grants: Consume Corpse - D-A-A - Occultism IV - Grants: Meditate Items - D-A - Tome of the Spider - Grants: Cocoon, Grants: Webbing Touch - A-A - Tome of the Owl - +50% XP, +3 Allfire per Day, Grants: Cleanse Ally - E-E-E - Tome of the Elemental - +3 Elemental Damage, Grants: Meteor, Grants: Firewielder (attacks can inflict Burning) - E-L-L - Shield of the Shield - +4 Willpower, Grants: Shielded (+2 Armor on non-flanking attacks) - L-A-A - Weapon of the Swordmaster - +5 Melee Damage, Retaliate does not consume actions - A-A-A - Armor of the Arcanist - +8 Focus, +4 Willpower Read the full article

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ecodweeb · 2 years

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Victor: 2010 Chevy Volt

Sometimes a really good deal comes about and you just can’t pass it up. Such is the case with this 195,000 mile 2010 Chevrolet Volt first generation. Ultimately this vehicle would get refreshed and sold to a good friend of mine to replace a 2006 Kia minivan.

Service Stats

In Service Date: 2/6/2022 In Service Mileage: 195,455 Out of Service Date: 6/19/2022 Out of Service Mileage: 201,200 Service Life: 5 months, 5,745 miles

The History & Story

This car was owned by my friend Tyler in Chattanooga. He replaced it with a 2017 Chevy Bolt EV, and offered it to me for the incredibly low price of $1500. My intention was to fix the car up so it’d pass NC inspection (it had a MIL) and sell it to a friend of mine. Getting this thing fixed up was going to break me of ever touching anything with an internal combustion engine again.

Tyler was up front about the MIL, the non functional parking sensors, the body damage, cracked/leaking tail light, and the crack in the windshield. This car had been pretty much abused its whole life -- Tyler was the 4th or 5th owner, and he said the guy he bought it off of (something like 4 or 5 years ago) had never once plugged it in to charge. Despite that, if driven conservatively without climate control, you could pull 32 miles out of the originally rated 36 mile battery. Even to this day the car is able to make the drive from its new home in Durham to my home in Raleigh on just battery power.

So what all was triggering the MIL? Well, we had the P0CE0 code - which meant one of the coolant pumps was acting up, We also had a P0420 - catalyst below threshold (possible bad catalytic converter), codes for misfires, and a few other things. I called a local shop that specializes in hybrids and they agreed to look at it. Ultimately they said they weren’t comfortable working on the Chevy hybrid system and that if I could resolve the battery-related code (P0CE0) that they could work on the traditional engine-related stuff. Ok, off the Sir Walter Chevrolet we go...

I dropped the car off and had Brad drive me home on his lunch break (he worked for Team PowerSports down the street at the time). They told me it needed a catalytic converter, a battery cooling pump, they recommended spark plugs and a transmission fluid change. I approved replacing the coolant pump and nothing else, because they had a near $3000 repair order and I had a feeling that the catalytic converter wasn’t gone on this car. Sir Walter replaced the pump -- or so we thought -- for over $1000 cost and I then took it back to Torque to have the spark plugs replaced, transmission fluid changed, and to check the exhaust system and tell me if the car really needed a new catalytic converter.

Wouldn’t you know that my hunch paid off? The secondary air injection pump was leaking, if this pump malfunctions the system can’t properly check the catalytic converter’s exhaust to ensure it is meeting the targets. The SAI pump is integrated into the valve cover of the car and wasn’t an expensive part. They had to remove the valve cover anyway to do the spark plugs, so that saved a little labor costs. $900 later, the car is back with a warning. They drove it 30 miles but they can’t get the readiness to set -- the MIL is off, but it won’t pass inspection until the readiness registers are all set.

What are readiness registers, you ask? Your vehicle has 7 checks that must have a passed value in order to pass an OBD inspection. It turns out that the Volt requires a number of different driving cycles in order to set the registers. Driving it for 30 miles on the highway simple won’t set them, unlike most other internal combustion vehicles. I read a post about someone who had over 60,000 miles on their Volt and moved to a new state that required an emission inspection and he had to drive the car with a depleted battery for two days to set the registers. Apparently it needs to see low speed cold driving, highway driving at least 60mph, and a slew of other scenarios -- thankfully this was all well laid out by a forum post.

So over the next few days I drove the car in all the conditions and got the registers to set, except the MIL came back on for P0CE0 -- the HV Battery Cooling Pump. What the hell. So I call Sir Walter and I get the service manager and try to explain the situation, he cuts me off and says that they refuse to service this or any other vehicles that I own and I’m free to take it elsewhere. Apparently being called out for missing a leaking air pump during the 150-point inspection was triggering. I told him if he refused to correct this repair, which carries a year or 12,000 miles of warranty, I would be forced to dispute the charge with my credit card company. He said you’re welcome to do that and hung up on me. Needless to say, I will never patronize nor recommend anyone patronize Sir Walter Chevrolet of Raleigh.

I opened a dispute with Chase and they said they needed a second opinion on the repair. I was advised to take it to another dealership and have them evaluate if the pump in question was replaced. Off to Capital Chevrolet in Wake Forest. These folks were super, super nice and their shop is much cleaner and nicer than Sir Walter’s. I told the service advisor everything that was going on and what I needed, she said no problem we will get the Volt tech to check it out and call you. The next day, or perhaps the day after, I got a call with some fascinating news.

Sir Walter did replace a coolant pump - but they replaced the wrong one. The pump they replaced has two hose connections, the one they should have replaced has three. The best part? The part numbers for these two pumps are one sequential digit apart. Someone likely mistypes 8 instead of 9 and volia...the wrong part is ordered. They confirmed that the pump that circulates the coolant into the cabin heater was the pump replaced, and that the code stored in the ECU was for the battery circulation pump. They quoted me $800 to replace it -- turns out the part is $32 online and it’s mounted right on the passenger side firewall, immediately visible when you open the hood.

I declined the repairs, paid for the diagnostic and requested that they state in the RO that the wrong pump was replaced. They did as I asked, and they had charged the car for me before I picked it up. Super good experience, I will be back if I ever buy a Chevy again. So, now I have the evidence needed to win my dispute with Chase. It took a few weeks, but I did win the dispute and the $1000+ repair charge was refunded. But, we still have a bad pump to contend with...

The other issues this car had were minor. The passenger tail lamp and the reverse lamp needed to be replaced. I managed to score both parts on ebay for cheap, and paid my neighbor to install them for me at his body shop. So long as we could get the MIL to turn off, we could get the car inspected with a new owner (side note: out of state vehicles registered in NC have one year to become inspection compliant upon initial registration). Talking with Tyler, he said that the MIL would go off in the summer but always came back in the winter. He never cared since TN didn’t require an emission inspection.

I tried everything to reprogram the pump, and was about to pull the trigger on a new one when the MIL went out on its own one day. I decided that it was best to sell the car in June/July so that the P0CE0 would self-clear because apparently the pump doesn’t throw the code when it’s warm out (which is weird, but, whatever). So the plan was now to wait and see if the MIL would go out on its own, and if so to get it inspected with the next owner.

Meanwhile, as all this is going on, my tenant’s vehicle died on him. He’d quit his job and was doing DoorDash/Uber Eats/gig work and was in a panic. We lent him the car and he actually drove it past 200,000 miles - he put roughly 3,000 miles on it in less than two months. I didn’t want to hang on to this car forever, so I knew I needed to come up with a plan to enable me to sell it.

I sold the car to my pottery friend Brandon. Brandon already had a MATE ebike, and was fully sold on the idea of an electric car. He had an old, beat up 2006 Kia Sedona minivan that we managed to sell for $800. He agreed to pay the full amount we had in the car (about $2800), and he even had an exterior 120v outlet at his rental house to charge the car with. He got the vehicle titled in his name with a 10-day temporary tag and we took it over to the Volvo dealership by our house for an inspection. There was a moment of panic as the MIL lit up momentarily once it was pulled into the bay, but it went out after a few ignition cycles. Fortunately, it passed inspection and was given a permeant tag.

Brandon is very happy with the car. I think the fuel that was in the car when I sold it to him lasted him almost 4 months before he had to refill the car. He uses it in EV mode almost 100% of the time. The MIL is back on, and if it doesn’t go off when it’s time to renew his plate then we may end up replacing that pump -- I found a radiator shop that seemed open to installing the part after they did some quick research on the car.

So why did this break me from ever owning another internal combustion engine vehicle? I got really dirty just opening the hood on this thing. That valve cover/Air Injection Pump leak sprayed oil all over the place. The catalytic converter situation was annoying. In short, I’d rather not deal with any of that crap ever again. I’ll swap a battery, I’d probably find it entertaining to replace a module in a battery pack... but I don’t want to contend with engine oil ever again.

#pastev #chevrolet #chevy #volt #2022

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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years

Note

WE NEED SILCO W A BREEDING KINK😫😫

Y'all are wildin', there's like four of you breeding-hoes in my damn asks-

[Established] Fem!Reader x young Silco

Warnings: NSFW/MDNI. Porn with feelings, injuries/blood, talk of death, revolutionary-shenannigans, couples-banter/argument, possessive sex, consensual-overstimulation, multiple orgasms, oral (F recieving) P in V sex, breeding kink, aftercare, fluff

Death could come at any time. It's a fact of life in Zaun.

It is a fact known by all the Children of Zaun, from those who'd been buried deep within the Mines until they clawed themselves out. Or forced to scrape, scavenge for just enough mouthfuls to curb them over until the next day among the streets of the Lanes. Or the Alcoves, where the gleaming city of Piltover was just out of reach; an open taunt, as they scramble for recognition along the river that separates the always-doomed from the forever-secured.

Death was inevitable, but it was particularly relentless for those of Zaun. As if hungry for life, it tears and claws into it's Children on the daily for the taste, and today, you were it's attempted meal.

"I'll be fine," You murmured again, watching as Silco's hands flew over your shoulder, dark brows creased. "... and you're gonna get wrinkles."

"Huh." He doesn't sound amused, but you only grunt and squeeze your eyes slightly, feeling the bandage crossing over your chest, connecting to the thick-padded shoulder, tighten.

Silco had cleaned and fashioned the bandage himself, the moment he dragged you from the front lines with a half-inch of bomb-sharpel embedded in your shoulder. He'd all but snarled when the medics tried to take a hold of you, hovered as they worked, and the moment they said you could be taken home for rest and recovery. Nothing else mattered to Silco, but gathering you up in his arms and carrying you out.

You weren't even sure which safehouse this was, if you were still in the Alcoves or returned down beneath the surface. It probably didn't matter, because from the way Silco had speed-cataloged the supplies you had here, it was clear this was your recovery-suite for the time being. Or until he approved of any wishes to leave, and unfortunately, he had doctors orders to back him up.

Annoying, but after his hand smoothed away any sting made by his tense bandaging, you hummed in appreciation at his gentler touch. His body was still thrumming with energy, boiling rage and worry, but his calloused hands were soft as he guided you to lean against him, back to chest, arms wrapping securely under your breasts as he held you in his arms.

Your eyes slipped close as you felt his chin resting on the top of your head. Letting out a small hum as he shifted slightly, stroking your sides with his knuckles while burrowing his angular nose into your hair. You had no doubt the traces of blood, grime and sweat hadn't been completely washed away when the medical volunteers had prepared you for scalpel removal. But regardless, there was a small, pleased sigh from him as he nuzzled closer to you.

Silco could make you feel, even on the worst days, in your most abhorrent condition, like a million gold.

"Lovely?"

"Hm?" His tone sounded off, but your eyes stayed closed. "What is it?"

A beat. And then, "I'm removing you from the Children of Zaun."

Your first, immediate reaction was to burst out laughing.

The fact that he was staying silent as you chortle, almost bending out of his unmovable grip around your waist, should've been a clue. But you truly could only find such a ridiculous sentence the epitome of humor. You moved your non-injured arm up to wipe at the corners of your eyes, releasing another snicker before you started, "You're too much, Sil-"

"Benzo could always use help with the ledgers, Gods know how much gold that drunk costs us a night at the bar," His tone was calm, nose still perched in your hair as he spoke casually against your scalp. "You'll be protected there, day and night, Enforcers rarely go that deep into the city-"

"Hey, wait..."

"-stop by during lunch breaks, I'll work on keeping missions in the city. Vander can take the harbor easy enough without me..."

"Silco, what're you...?"

"Not to mention Vander and I have been talking about the bridge. The Mission could be over before you know it, our vision finally realized and the Undercity freed, and you won't even have to return to the field ever again-"

"Silco!" You finally shouted over him, wiggling and gritting your teeth as the pain shot down your arm from the action, but you manage to turn, glaring sharply at his impassive face. "You can't just bench me-!" "And I'm not. I'm removing you from the attack forces, there's definitely a difference," He said flatly, and seemingly unaffected by your anger.

This just made you angrier.

"You don't even have the power to do that!"

"Seniority and one of the head-founders. Not to mention," His hand reached out, and still weak from treatment, the gentle push he gave your noninjured shoulder sends you falling back and bouncing down onto the mattress. "... I said so. And I can tell the doctors to back me up on it, they would thank me for giving them one-less paitent."

Pushing up onto your elbows, you're almost immediately pulled back down with an arm slung over your waist as he lays down on his side, the other quick to grab your hand when you go to shove at him. "You can't just up and take me off the force," You snap, glaring at him as he only casually brings your hand, with knuckles tight, up for him to kiss quietly and innocently at the tense-white skin. "And I can't have you running off and getting killed. Not like this," He replies, seemingly mild.

There's a shake of his hand, though, and it's making you pause as the tremble travels from his grip up your arm. "So we seem at an impasse."

"Silco-"

Your fury dissipates to moment his hands snap up, cupping the sides of your face with a fierceness in his eyes, finally something showing besides careful, mild-indifference showing in his eyes. "This can't happen again," He hisses, and actually shakes your face slightly. From the trembling in his hands, or trying to still your lips from interrupting him, green eyes dart over your face as he hoarsely continues, "I can't... I refuse to lose you, do you understand?"

Blinking, you try to interrupt; his lips stop you this time, and it's desperate. Desperate, like you're the final breath he'll ever take, and it leaves you gasping as he finally pulls back, leaving your stunned tone half-broken from lack of air, "S-sil?"

"Stop, just..." Forehead to yours, you distantly wonder if he really is working to generate early-wrinkles, the way his eyes are squeezed shut and his face is twisted with distress. "... I can't lose you. I can't, it's... no." You'd joke at the lack of vocabulary, but Silco seems genuinely distraught at the subject of your mortality, though apparently not enough to cease the suffocation of air during his next harsh, desperate round kissing.

It shouldn't be a surprise, and in a way, it's not. Silco is a sub-definition of intensity all on his own, his affections being no different. You suppose the life the two of you lead also contributes to his need of you, perhaps by the unconscious need to cling to those who go through the same experiences and steps of dark, Undercity life.

"Y-..." You huffed a breath, feeling long digits slide into your hair and curl gently, tilting your head back to pepper your jawline. "I-i'm pretty stubborn... death would probably s-spit me back out..."

"Not allowed to. It doesn't get to have you; only me," He murmurs, before his lips find your collarbone. You suck in a breath, hands slipping up to grip in long-dark hair as chipped teeth dig into your sensitive skin. Seemingly determined to leave marks, his fingers are not bruising, but they burn while sliding down your skin, moving to your hips and tugging you closer. Apparently your close-call had left him needy, clinging and... something else.

Any shuddering breath fades into a sound of mirth, and a bit of disbelief as your hips go flush against his. "B-bring a knife into bed?"

Rolling your pelvis slightly to his, you feel his sharp intake complete at your collar with an equally fierce nip of his canines. A whimper actually escapes you from this, and you dig your nails into his hair as he trails even further down, finding a benefit in your shirtless, bandaged self when he closes his mouth over your breast.

Whine pulled from your throat as Silco's teeth trap a nipple, lavishing it with his tongue as his palm came up to cup the other. A soft growl sounded when your arch further against him, and your voice was breathy as you tried to speak, "Sil, baby... you c-can't just shut me away from the world..." A groan slipped from you as he popped his mouth off from your suckled, sensitive flesh. "Shut you away? You misunderstand..."

The Son of Zaun gives you no time to question, as he moved over to give the other his attention, rolling the stiff peak between fingers as you sighed, shuddering slightly at gentle bites at your flesh. "...to keep you safer? Yes, I'd recommend a change in your rank and job-duties... but I eould still want others to see you." There was a press of his lips at your sternum when he released you and, on his elbows to hover over your body, he starts moving further down your body as he spoke.

"O-oh?"

"Yes, I want them to see you. And know," He paid special attention to patch of skin on your abdomen, just above your hip. Your skin is trembling with the mark he makes there with his mouth and teeth as he mumbles against you, "I want them to know, know who you are. Who you belong to. Why no one else is allowed to mark you, touch you, hurt you, scar you..."

Breathlessly, you grit your teeth slightly as you lift yourself onto your elbows, and wordlessly give a nod at the single glance he flicks up to you. Thumbs hook on the pants-hem to yank them off. Faster than you've ever known him to be, Silco has your hips pinned while nestling himself firmly between your legs, the flat of his tongue starts at your mound, and drags up-along your already dripping lips.

"Fuck," You snap in a sudden gasp, struggling to hold yourself up. Failing as he growls against your cunt, the vibrations leaving you panting as you flop back onto the bed, hiss from landing on your shoulder fading into a moan as he tugs your hips closer. The wet muscle firmly lapping up your slit, before lowering back to re-start it's path, eventually works to part your lips from this single repeated movement. He moved impossibly closer to take full-advantage of this development.

You mewl. Partially from pain as your back arches and you press your bandaged-shoulder into the mattress beneath you, and also in bliss as lips wrap around your throbbing clitoris. Silco seems intent to thrash your sensitive nub alone to bring you to climax, tongue swirling and lashing against it as his lips press and firmly mouth the folds of your pussy. His nails dig into your hips, even as they pet you almost comfortingly as your thighs come up, trembling to cradle his head while you scramble for something, anything to secure to.

It's never found, as your orgasm hits hard and fast while you brokenly croak out Silco's name, feeling him groan against you, as if your release brought him his. Perhaps this is true, as the young man is usually extremely clingy after sex and instead of pulling away, he hooks his arms beneath your thighs to tug you closer. Mouth slicking down to your soaked hole, your legs are trembling as you flash a hand down, curling into long dark locks as you sputter out the obvious, "I-i came, fucking... Silco, you a-already fucking-"

You don't pull him off, or say the word that gets him to stop, though. Despite the overwhelming bolts crackling along your spine and words dying in your mouth, your hips did the talking by eagerly racing further into his mouth, before his long hands gripped you in earnest to still your moves.

It's too much, and you love it, twisting your fingers though dark locks to hang on for dear life as your eyes nearly roll back in your skull as you struggle how to breathe.

Your head bangs back onto the bed with an airless scream as his beautiful, evil arch of a nose nuzzles against your swollen clit, while his tongue dives into your cunt in earnest to lap up your spent-juices.

Oh, you could almost hate him for how he totally consumes you in this moment, especially when he seems to wiggle his head closer to your heat, in order to despicably press his tongue as deep into you as possible. But somehow, you feel that wave begin rising deep within you a second time, before it impossibly crashes over.

Sounds are trapped in your chest along with your air, you cannot feel much of anything above your hips as your spine nearly snaps off the bed. When you cum a second time, straight onto his tongue, you're sure you've yanked out a handful of his dark locks from how tightly you grip him. But he only continues to feast off of you as you finally are able to let out a strangled, gasping sob, before he pulls off of you. Vision blurred as you look down, catching his slicked face, hair wild and chin dripping as he is panting from equal exertion before managing out a single word:

"Mine."

Another choked sound escapes your throat as he crawls up your body, knuckle reaching to brush at the corner of your eye, evidence of your overwhelmed state, before he simply stares down at you.

"Do you believe that?" Silco continues softly after a minute, moving around to coax an arm under your non-bandaged shoulder and waist, though fingers stop to trail over hickies as you shudder. "Do you believe it, when I mark you as mine? When I leave marks in places no other sees? When I leave your pussy throbbing, scarlet from my touch alone - do you understand then? That you're mine?"

A blink, and suddenly you are being guided. You'd be falling over if it wasn't for his hands on your hips as you're made to straddle him, his pants already kicked off as he rubs a thumb into your skin. Your hands come down to rest against the planes of his abdomen. Muscles ripple at your touch, but through your sweaty-locks, you gaze fown to see him watched you with hooded eyes. There's need, and also a question that after sucking in another breath, you smirk breathlessly and nod once. You could, and would take more.

"But those are sights for me alone..." Silco continued quietly, savoring your whimper with tongue running over his bottom lip as he smirked, something wild in his eyes beneath the affection, the lust. "Perhaps the world needs more proof of who you are to me."

The position was carefully calculated. For pleasure, obviously, but to minimize any discomfort of your shoulder pressing back into a mattress. Your nails dig into his abdomen as you squeeze around the feel of his cock deep within you as he stills, letting you get used to the familiar-sensation. Your groin truly feels like it's buzzing now, every nerve flaring with pleasure that nearly makes your eyes roll, but it's delicious in a most unbearable way. It seems to skyrocket at his next words, husky and almost hesitant in his dark growls, "What if I fuck a baby into you?... Gods, no one could even think of you without thinking of me, would they...?"

A roll of his hips, and you keen, somehow managing to keep upright even as every single muscle in your body trembles.

"Oh, you'd like that? Don't pretend like you didn't just squeeze around me. You fucking like the thought of my cum filling you up, again and again, until it sticks?" There's something almost taunting in his tone at his next upward movement into you. "How many times would it take, huh? How often should I leave you dripping, leave it stuffed inside you before we get our first...?"

"First?" You manage to wheeze, nails biting into his arms as his hands reach for your hips. Gripping you, probably sensing the shaking in your every muscle, the already growing shakiness in your thighs and arms growing in an effort to hold yourself up, not to mention ride him.

"You think only once would do? Think I'd leave my cum stuck inside you only once?" You toss your head back, hair flinging as you cry out, loud enough to echo as the next round of fucking begins to hit deep inside you. "N-no, sweetheart, I'd do it as many fucking times as I want, as many times as I need," Silco's voice is truly a snarl now, and you almost feel his nails curling into claws as he grips your hips, cock pounding in and out of you in a chasing, vicious pace.

You feel each sharp thrust of him deep inside you as your eyes squeeze-shut while you cry out between each. It feels like every movement is a thrust to enunciate every syllable as he growls out, "Put it right where it fucking belongs -" "Cum inside my cunt, please, Silco," You manage to croak out, and whine brokenly when he literally freezes, cock fully stuffed inside you while you drag your nails on his arms, clawing down as you whine for him to move-

"Fill me up, b-babe, I want you inside me... d-don't you dare fucking pull out, I want you to put it in me, Silco-"

"Oh, f-fucking hell-"

That tremble in his voice, that actual voice crack is the last coherent word you manage to work from him, before he fucks you in earnest. There's no other words to describe it, it's pure, uninterrupted, raw fucking, straight into your cunt.

It's truly savage, and brutal in the most devious sort of way. Words lose meaning to you as another slam deep inside, once, twice, before hot release shoots into you, and you nearly bow down in half over him, surely drawing blood this time on his arms as you keen. Your third, and definitely final climax of the night has you gripping around the shaft deep inside you like a vice.

"Don't... don't you pull out..." You pant agaisnt his chest when air and thought return to your body once more. There's a strangled whimper of your name, clearly floored from above you at your words affirming this new, claiming side of him, and you swear you feel that dick deep inside twitch.

It takes several minutes, before movement even becomes an option, let alone crosses your mind. There's an utterly lewd squelch from your joined bodies when Silco lifts you up and off, and you're utterly boneless as his own, somewhat weak body manages to subtly wipe you both dry, before pulling the thin cover around you and tucking you close to his chest.

Another few minutes, before words become avaliable again. "So... that was a new thing."

Silco's chest jerks slightly with his small burst of laughter, and his arm wounds tighter around you, minding the shoulder. "Y... yeah, I don't... I don't know where it came from, honestly." Silco's hardly a skilled liar. The day's mortal test on you clearly shook him, shook him in a way that reminded him that he could lose something that's his, you.

Apparently, he wants to remind Enforcers, and life alike, that you were his, and they weren't allowed to have at you.

The thought makes your cheeks burn, and you nuzzle against his chest, earning a rumble beneath your cheek as fingers sooth down your wild hair.

"... you're not taking me off the force." "I... think not," Silco says, clearly hesitant about it, but a glance down at your face makes him give a slow, single affirming nod.

You smile, the deadly look in your eyes promising his demise if he was still seriously consitering it fading. You shuffle up, wincing from your shoulder and sensitive lower body before you bump your nose along his chin, nuzzling up along his collarbone. "Now, if you wanted to give me a vacation, we can talk..."

"Hm, yes. I think that's doable," He murmurs in mirth, another soft hum as your hand slips around him, matching his motions in your hair as you cart your fingers through his. "And you have to go on vacation with me too."

"Uh-huh."

"And I expect pampering. Enough that it makes Topside look grubby-"

"You think I don't spoil you?" He asked, and you see a glint of seafoam green looking down at you along with the edge of a smirk. No; you know he does, and as much as he has the tendency to be incredibly intense in regards to his love, you enjoy it. It's rare to feel like you are something to be cherished, something precious within the Undercity.

Silco makes you feel like million goal, and this makes your grin soften into warmth.

"You do," You murmur, pressing your lips to the skin of his neck. A breath breezes over your hair, and arm tightens around you in love, and to hold you tight. Simply holding you.

"I love you," The Son of Zaun murmurs, and closing your eyes as you press yourself close against him, and you say something that has just as much meaning as his quiet, sleepy declaration, "And I am yours."

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#i'll look away for five minutes and there will be three of you asking for a sequel #poppin up like daisies #feral revolutionaries in love #arcane silco #lol silco #silco x reader #my writing #young silco #arcane #silco #mdni #lemon #18+#female reader #askbox #answered

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rcksmith · 3 years

Text

Desire — Kaz Brekker

(Photo not mine)

Requests: “Hello there! I've been around this blog for a bit now and you are an amazing writer! I was wondering if you would be ok with doing something with 21 28 & 29 from the smut prompts and kaz brekker? If you are uncomfortable please just ignore this!”

“Kaz brekker Smut prompts 28 66?? Love you💖!!”

“I can request Kaz smut prompts 29?❤️”

Smut prompts:

21. “Look at you, I’ve only started using my fingers and you’re already shaking.”

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

29. “I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

66. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Couple: Kaz Brekker/ Fem!Reader

Warnings: swearing, mention of shot, mention of desire, desire, mention of smut, explicit smut, NSFW.

Word count: 3k

A/N: All smut requests for Kaz must follow these rules.

I hope you like💕 English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

— — — —

There was something about you. Something impossible to decipher, with a glow hovering around you like a electrical energy. Wrapping your whole body in a cloak of magnetism. There was something about the way you spoke, walked, laugh. Something about what it was like to be you, in your beauty and mysteries like a sphinx.

Something that made Kaz Brekker completely furious.

You couldn't be more distorted from the image, in Kaz's mind, than what was to be a peaceful woman. Calm, controled, with steel emotions and wit in eyes. Someone who, like him, knew how to dance the waltz of negotiation, manipulation, who could blend in with the shadows and know the best time to listen more than speak.

You were not like Inej, you were not like Jesper. Hell, you were like nobody Kaz has known in all of his 28 years.

Nothing reminiscent of calm and control would be used to describe what it meant to be you.

Your soul are stormy, loud, obstinate, too stubborn and too talkative. You needed to speak loudly, laugh, move, expose your opinions to the seven winds and to whoever listened the most. You needed to question, inquire, doubt and test the limits of any situation. A direct order for you would be an affront to your free and independent spirit. A command that would curtail your freedom or tame your strong genius was almost like an invitation for you to do exactly the opposite of what they had ordered you to do.

So, for a man of trained reasoning, subtly balanced world, and who was used to his every command being followed vehemently and promptly in blind obedience, such a personality like you was like introducing a disturbing factor capable of shaking all his judgments. Sand in a watch, or stone in a shoe, would be no more a nuisance than a strong nature like your.

The extraordinary stubbornness and mania to counter his orders - when, in your words, they were unreasonable - had made you different from all the women Brekker had ever met. Kaz liked challenges and responsibilities, a good puzzle, but you were on a level far beyond that.

You were a danger to his peace of mind. And you knew that. All his aversion to your indomitable spirit only served as fuel for your own mission in to piss him off. Few men were like Kaz Brekker, you knew that, with a strength of character too powerful to be ignored. He was not just comfortable in his position of authority as he was obviously unable to act in any other way than as a leader. His stoic figure and always so contained in a wall of indifference made you want to ruffle his hair to see if you could remove any emotion. And being a girl who hasn't always liked leaders, Kaz Brekker was a huge temptation. Few moments had been better than those that you managed to piss him off beyond what he could handle.

However, all the reasons why the two of you were so exasperating for each other, did not explain why the air crackled in ambiguity when your eyes met. The hemisphere was adorned in a thought-provoking, poignant veil, like a warm honey flowing down its throat, and there was something else in the way blood flowed like flames of fire through veins of you two.

Jesper said that the sexual tension between you was so tangible that it could be cut by one of Inej's knives, but you refused to think of Kaz that way. At least until that moment.

Not pure images of what the infamous Brekker could do to you between four walls swept you like the strong Arabian wind. Making you be surprisingly breathless. Kaz was not a man whose private life was exposed, nor was he involved with many women, but you have heard two or three of them when they were drunk saying that Kaz Brekker in the room could be incendiary.

Everyone knew that his touch reserve didn't limit him to anything, but that his job was at the top of the priority list and that sexual encounters were almost never on that list.

"It was not my fault!” Jesper defended himself one night, slightly drunk, sitting at the club's round table next to the other crows “I didn't know he was married to another man! That damn pretty face seduced me!”

"Did he seduce you?" You asked, skeptical and playful.

"I swear to God! And it had been a long time since I had sex with anyone, and I went… ”

“But you did sex last week." Inej laughed, chocked.

"Exactly!" Jesper said, as if he were obvious.

You laughed with your beer glass in your hand, taking another sip.

“Is a week a long time to not sleep with anyone?" Matthias retorted, trying not to laugh.

“Are you going to tell me that is not?” Jesper and Nina spoke at the same time.

“If a man has time for sex more than once a week, he clearly doesn't have much to do. And I'm sure I gave Jesper a lot of tasks that would keep him busy.” Kaz narrowed his eyes at his friend, and Jesper hid his guilt behind the rim of his beer glass, looking to the side.

"So you are saying that you are a very busy man?" You teased, trying not to laugh at the scathing look Kaz sent you.

"I disagree. The values of hard work and discipline cannot match the hot body of a woman in bed.” Matthias said, exchanging a brief conspiratorial look with Nina, who winked at him.

"There are more important things." Said Kaz.

"Like what?" You rested your chin on the back of the hand whose elbow was on the table, the playful look of a rebellious student.

"Progress." Kaz held your gaze.

He wasn't going to take your bait. But you didn't give up easy.

"Tell me, if God gave you a deal: all the hunger in the world would be extinguished in exchange for you never being able to have sex again, what would you choose?" your eyes had a teasing feline glow.

At that moment, Kaz felt a shiver up the back of his neck, like a warm breath of autumn. Something crawled, like a snake, across his rib cage and down to his groin, pumping blood like fire through his veins.

He held your gaze, but the feline glow in your eyes promised to contain the most ardent sins. Suddenly, Kaz's mind was flooded by the wave of obscene images of you, on his bed; moaning, squirming, shouting his name and being very obedient with every order he gave you.

He would make you such a good girl...

"I don't believe in God." He replied succinctly, the predator's eyes still in your eyes audacious feline's.

A big, satisfied smile spread across your face, and you said: "As I thought. Bad luck for hungry people.”

Realizing that he had fallen right into your cunning trap, Kaz got rid of your diabolical magnetism and cursed.

“I didn't say…” he stopped, impatient “It doesn't matter. I have more important things to do than waste time here.”

But the smile you hid behind the glass was noticeable to Kaz.

After that night, the crackling, gasping flame that circled the two of you intensified to alarming levels. Kaz could feel you holding your breath when he was too close, and you could see him squeezing his cane harder when you sweetened your voice for him.

However, regardless of Kaz's wanted to fold you at a table and put an end to your brat girl pose, enjoying the groans he was sure you would let out, the two of you still fought like dog and cat.

Just as it was now.

“What do you mean, I'm not going?!” You looked at Kaz, amazed, when he told you that you would not participate in the robbery that week “I know that security system like the back of my hand!”

It was true, what you had of stubbornness, you had of technological intelligence. There was no computer that you would not hack, a program that you would not hack, and a system that you would not unlock. Your genius with technology made up for all your lack of obedience.

But Kaz ignored. “I've already told you. It's a more dangerous mission than you're used to and we don't have time for the plans you come up with right away.” He needled you.

“Are you referring to Switzerland?” You were never anything short of direct and inquiring. It was logical that you would question every orden. “But I already told you that when the alarm went off your plan didn't work anymore! I was more useful inside to deactivate the alarm than waiting outside.”

And stubborn. Holy God, how stubborn you were!

"And it cost you to get shot."

"But it was just a shot!"

Kaz looked at you, puzzled. “Just?! And wasn't it enough ?! You put the whole team at risk!”

“But if I hadn't deactivated the alarm, we would all be arrested! And only I knew how to do that!”

"My fucking God, isn't there a speck of common sense in you?!"

But you answered boldly: "Not when you impose clueless plans on me."

Mortified would be an understatement to describe how he was now. What an unbearable creature! Kaz felt the anger spread from his neck to his face, igniting his breath and squinting his eyes in annoyance.

Why was it so difficult for you to follow a simple goddamn rule?!

“Besides, your initial plan was flawed and there was no reason for me to be out when it was necessary inside and...” And you kept talking!

If you had noticed Kaz's completely enraged state in front of you, you would have been scared, shut up and ran. But, truth be told, Kaz suspected that even if you knew how to read the murderous humor in his eyes, you wouldn't have left that office. Much less be afraid. You could argue with the demon. And you would probably beat him out of tiredness.

However, regardless of the desire to shake you up, to see if that put any good sense in you, in that second, watching you gesture with your hands, defending your point of view as if it were the england queen's crown, something swept Kaz's body from the top of his head with dark hair to the tips of his illustrated boots.

The sound of the world was drowned out by the flow of blood itself in his veins. His heart hammered hard in his chest and, in that instant, a sharp sting in his groin and the pit of his stomach set him on fire.

His gaze went down to your mouth, which kept moving. And when it came up to your eyes, your stubborn and defiant gaze sent Kaz's rationality into space. He dropped the cane abruptly, which toppled to the floor with a hollow crack, and advanced towards you in firm and determined steps.

Gluing his gloved hands to your face, Kaz silenced all your protests with a strong kiss. Hot, fiery, domineering. The kind of kiss that held years of camouflaged desire, years of irritability, years of an unnerving desire to make you shut up with all the perverse forms that existed.

You weren't afraid of him. But you should. You should if you knew everything he wanted to do with you.

However, as if you have been burning in the same desire for years, you responded to that kiss with the same urgency. The same hunger. Kaz slipped his hands into your hair, closing his fingers there and deepening the kiss with ferocity. He felt beside himself, like a hungry wild animal that had been denied food for years and that only now had its teeth set on its prey. You moaned against his lips, bringing your hands to his lean, strong biceps, squeezing your fingers there.

You both needed air, but neither seemed to give a damn about that. Misted of desire that burned like a fire in their bodies, Kaz pushed the two of you backwards, slamming your back against the wall and swinging a frame beside. You gasped, and the gesture made it possible for Kaz to invade your mouth with his tongue, hunting every piece of hot meat. You two fought the same battle in that kiss: invade, dominate, conquer.

They both wanted to take the waltz, but Kaz would never let you conduct the show.

He pulled your wrists up, pinning them with one hand against the wall, leaving you immobile while sinking his mouth further into yours. Kaz felt you try to get rid of his tight grip, but he was stronger than you. And much more when he have a objective.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He murmured against your mouth, the tip of his tongue playing with your bottom lip. “You know I don’t like to be teased.”

Was impossible for you to control the loud moan that escaped. Your body trembling with desire, your legs wobbly, your wet core vibrating with his words. Kaz Brekker was a fallen angel. With a beauty and charm you've never been immune to.

How can you think you'd win the dominance game with him?

And, like the fallen angel he was, his smug and arrogant smile painted the corner of his lips when he saw what his lines did to you.

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.” Kaz mocked “If I knew it was only necessary to do this for you to shut up...” he brought his lips closer, his voice hitting yours “I would have fucked you like the naughty brat you have been a long time.”

If his caustic and maddening kisses hadn't been enough to break you in half, that statement would have done all the work.

In that second, you hoisted your white flag, biting your lip in a needy moan and closing your eyes for a second by the overwhelming vibration of your core. God, you needed more. Whatever he gave you. Anything he wanted to give you. You just needed more.

"Are you going to be good?" He played with the dough you were in his hands, his devilish mouth going down your neck, leaving a trail of fire and debris wherever he went.

You agreed, desperately. “Yes, Sir."

That title seemed to do things with Kaz. Because in the next second, his mouth was back on your. More urgent, more needy, more dominating. You shifted your hips for more friction with his, and Kaz rewarded your obedience by pulling one of your thighs forward, making your skirt go up, aligning your thigh on his hips and giving access for his member to fit perfectly against your pulsating core.

You moaned louder this time. Fingers clenching, heart pumping frantically. Kaz pulled his lips away from you for a second, taking his hand off your thigh and bringing it to your mouth.

“Pull.” He ordered, referring to the glove.

You murmured a low, excited moan, bringing your mouth to the glove and clenching your teeth on the cloth at the top of his middle finger. Satisfied, Kaz pulled his hand back, watching the alabaster skin peel away from the leather fabric. As soon as he was free, he removed the glove from your mouth, replacing it with his own and stealing all your breath in that fiery kiss.

His free hand wandered over your thigh, touching you for the first time with a touch that promised to show you all the most delicious and secret sins in the world. His tongue wrapped around your again, and the moan you let out was even greater when his long fingers brushed against your wet, throbbing core.

"S-sir!" You sobbed, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for more.

"Look at you." His fire voice beat against your lips, the tightness against your wrists getting stronger, more possessive "I’ ve only started using my fingers and you ’re already shaking"

Your body cried out in unbridled desire, sobs mingling with loud moans and heavy sighs as Kaz tormented you with his fingers. He touched you, slid, opened and sank, increasing the volume of your pleas.

“P-please" You begged, the body in need, the urge too urgent.

Kaz looked you in the eye, a dark, malicious gleam burning in his Egyptian blue irises. "Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" He teased you.

But you no longer cared about his teasing. With your lips swollen and red, your heart racing and the core pulsing in despair on his experienced fingers, you were already surrendered.

"Please. I n-need." You mumbled submissively, rummaging your hips in his hand.

"I bet if I wanted to fuck you against my desk, here and now, you would be very happy to do it, wouldn't you?"

He was foisting all of his dominance on you, bending you to your knees for him. And you knew that. You knew he was taking years of anger out on you. But you couldn't care less. You wanted him. Ardently. Desperately. And if it was a good girl Kaz wanted, damn it, you would be a good girl for him.

You readily agreed, your eyes shining in supplication.

“Good.” Kaz pulled you brutally off the wall, turning you over to the table and pushing your chest against the icy wood, pulling your hips at him. “Because that's exactly what is going to happen.”

Suddenly, desire and hunger roared like a wild beast. Kaz watched you, bent over his desk, obedient, surrendered, offering every inch of your body to him.

His breath was burning in his throat and it was no longer possible to order his thoughts, contain his euphoria. He would fuck you so hard that it would make that memory the only thought when you remembered him. When you dare to rebut his orders.

Kaz pulled you skirt up and your panties down, letting out a groan that sounded more like a growl as he saw your wet core. Pulsing and desperate for him. For anything he wanted to give you. It sparked a fervent desire that Brekker had never felt in his life, devastating any possibility of thinking about anything other than fucking you.

Playing with your fingers in your slick, wet folds, you whimpered again, the core pulsing whenever he teased you inside, pressing his fingertips there but never entering.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" His voice came over the top of your shoulder, hoarse, animalistic, full of profane desires.

"Please." You were quick to beg “I do what you want! But just...please, please… ”

You already felt your eyes watering from over-stimulation, your heart burning so hard it was beating, your core aching from emptiness.

You sealed the end of the game between you. Kaz had won. In a triumphant checkmate.

And you didn't have to beg again. Barely seeing when he unbuttoned his pants, you just reasoned his hard, hot, pulsating member by opening your from the inside. Claiming everything that was yours as his in a strong, desperate, hungry lunge.

"S-sir!" You screamed, your nails scraping the wood from the table, the core pulsing overwhelmingly around his rigid member.

In a more badly lunge, Kaz sank completely into you, moaning loudly as he hit rock bottom. The gloved hand slid over your shoulder, propelled you to him while the bare hand tightened on your waist, hitting you at a steady, raw, animalistic rhythm.

The sounds were pornographic, dirty and loud, echoing off the walls. The air was hot like molten lava, pungent and muffled, driving you two lost breath. Their bodies clashed as if the world was going to end tomorrow, in aggressive, rough thrusts. These were thrusts that made half of his things on the table fall to the floor, mixing in a mess that would serve as a reminder later about the sinful activities you two did.

You screamed when Kaz took on more force, his fingers squeezing you so hard that they would leave you with marks on your shoulder and waist the next day.

"Fucking hell!" Kaz snarled between his teeth, feeling your flesh throb around him, squeezing he with such desperation that he knew you were close.

You sobbed, tears streaming down the corners of your eyes as you pushed your ass towards him, trying to bring him as deep as possible, as deep inside you as possible. But every time his pelvis smashed into your ass, a loud moan and the feeling of being completely full drowned you.

You begged, pleaded, for something you didn't know. But Kaz seemed to know. Taking both hands to your hips, your pace became even more unperturbed, pushing you to the limit until you cum in a scream in his name, your lungs on fire. Kaz came close behind, sinking as deep as possible and pouring all the hot liquid into you. Almost like a brand.

The air was filled with sex, lust and desire, filled only by the sound of their ragged breaths that struggled to stabilize.

You were still panting when Kaz's voice came after you: "Whatever I want, don't I?"

A deal with the devil.

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capevans3000 · 2 years

Text

Taking Care of You

Summary: Chris taking care of you while you were ill.

Warning: Fluff considered?

A/N: Hi loves! This idea came to me a few days ago and it took me a while to plan and bring it into actual words, not just images in my head. [Ahh, if only whatever I conjure in my head is brought to life just like that. How many times would I have married Chris?] Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this short one. As usual, image/gif is not mine and credit to the owner. Leave a comment, like and reblog if you enjoy this. Have a lovely day! <3 —

You woke up with a start when something ice cold came into contact with your bare face. Your eyes flew open but as soon as you did, the pressure on your head felt as if there was an elephant sitting right on top of it. You shut your eyes again and removed the source of the cold from your face. It was a towel, damp with cold water. A wave of nausea and vertigo suddenly came over you and you instinctively reached out to your bedside table to grab a tissue while your eyes were still closed. You reached to your left and was confused when you couldn’t feel the bedside table where it usually and supposed to be.

Thinking that your headache might be playing tricks on you, you tried again, your hands blindly reaching and touching, but nothing came into contact except air. You reached further, and finally your hand came into contact with a cold marble surface. Your table was supposed to be wood, but your headache was so blinding you hardly had any time to make sense of anything. You found the tissue and wiped away the tears that were forming at the corner of your eyelids. You hated vomiting and would avoid it at all cost. Still with your eyes closed, you took slow and deep breaths, willing the vertigo and nausea to go away. Thankfully, it did within a couple of minutes.

When the pressure on your head was feeling lighter, you helped yourself to sit up. You opened your eyes slowly, afraid that the blinding ache would come back. As soon as you tried to sit up though, you immediately felt something different. The bed and pillow felt softer and fluffier, the duvet thicker, and the scent of sandalwood emanated the whole room. You looked around you and panic shot through you like lightning. Just when you realised you were in a totally different room than your own, you noticed the back of the figure lying down next to you.

“What the heck!” You screamed, bolting out of the bed despite the dull ache that still ailed you. You looked down and realised you were not in your own clothes, but bathrobes tied loosely around your waist. Shocked and in tears, you frantically searched for your clothes and found them folded nicely on the chair next to a dresser.

Your scream woke the strange figure on the bed and you saw him stirring. You had never been more afraid in your life, waking up next to a stranger on the bed, and having absolutely no recollection of it. Your mind starting racing while you grabbed your belongings – your phone, which you found on the bedside table, your clothes, your bag hung nicely on the stand, and your shoes placed neatly near the entrance. You had no time to change. Wherever you are, or whichever hotel you were at, you just had to make a run for it.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You heard the sleepy voice of the man and stopped in your tracks, your trembling hands just about to crack the door open.

“It’s me.” The voice sounded again.

This time, you turned around so quickly that your robes flew open at the bottom and cool air rushed in, touching your bare thighs. Embarrassed and shocked, you dropped your belongings on the floor as you tried to close the robes.

“Ch-Chris.” You wanted to shoot yourself when your voice came out sounding so uncool. But more than anything, you were confused and it showed.

“How are you feeling?” Chris asked, his voice sweet and comforting. He had now emerged from under the duvet and was walking towards you, with nothing but only his boxers on. You gulped at the sight and quickly looked away, heat forming on your face. You were afraid that your expression would give you away so you did all you could to avoid eye contact with him.

Chris and you had dated about a year ago and were together for more than two years. Things between you were serious, and the two of you had even danced around the idea of a marriage. But life always had a way of coming into the picture and ruining whatever plans there were. Work, schedule differences and media pressure drove the distance between you two further and further apart the longer you were together. At the end, the two of you decided to call it quits and ended things amicably. The two of you remained friends for a while, but again, nothing was ever as planned. Eventually life took the both of you on different waves, and you had moved States when your work called for it. Chris knew that you moved, but you didn’t share much details with him about your new whereabouts because it was still uncertain then.

That was months ago. Your new workload was crazy, having just took on a new and challenging portfolio. Chris was busier than ever too, with so many projects ongoing and upcoming. Other than a quick text here and there, you two and barely enough time to catch up. Until now, apparently.

“Erm, I am feeling all right.” Even after all those years of being in a relationship together, you felt shy around him all of a sudden. It doesn’t help that all you can see is his rock hard abs, his muscular arms and thighs, and dang it, his obvious bulge. Thoughts brought you back to those nights where you had spent entangled in each other’s arms, skin to skin, unsleeping. You felt your face heating up again at the thought.

“You still feel slightly hot.” Chris said worriedly when he touched your forehead. “Come back into bed.”

Before you could object, Chris led you back to the bed and guided you back into it. He fluffed the pillows for you and covered you up with the duvet. If he had found your flight response earlier weird, he said nothing.

“Chris?” You called out.

“Hmm?”

“Do you mind catching me up? Why… am I here? And where is this place?”

Chris had picked up a fresh face towel from the washroom and placed it inside a bucket next to his side of the bed since you had thrown the old one on the floor when you bolted from the bed.

“You don’t remember? I drugged you last night and brought you here to my hotel room.” Chris chuckled and teased.

“What?!” You asked, perplexed.

“Relax! I was joking.” Chris laughed his signature laugh. You missed his laughter so much and it brought back a smile on your face so naturally. Chris came over and sat next to you. He gently dabbed your forehead with the cold towel. The cooling temperature felt jarring on your skin, but comforting nonetheless Being here in bed with Chris, you felt a sense of domesticity and a pang of wistfulness. You wondered if this would be a fraction of what life would look like if the two of you had gotten married.

“I happened to be around the area and wanted to surprise you. You didn’t leave me with your address but I knew where you worked so that was where I went. I saw you walking out of the building, but before I could call out to you, you had passed out.” Chris’ face was now a shadow of worry. “I tried getting you to the hospital but I knew the Emergency Room would be packed with the situation as it is now. So I made the decision to bring you to my hotel room and called a doctor for you. The doctor gave you a jab for your fever and you were pretty much passed out the whole night.”

You were surprised to hear all that. You remembered feeling unwell suddenly while at work the day before and had decided to leave office early. You hadn’t even realised that Chris was there, and all that happened while you were out cold.

That was when it hit you. “Wait a minute. What about my clothes? Why aren’t I wearing them?”

“I changed you. I remember you don’t like going to bed with your outdoor clothes.” Chris shared matter of factly.

Your face immediately changed as you tried to hide under the covers in utter embarrassment. As if reading your mind, Chris took the covers off you but you immediately pulled them back up, only revealing your eyes.

“It’s not like I’ve never seen you in your underwear before. I have seen you with lesser clothes.” Chris smiled. “You still look really amazing.” He added.

“Chris!” You exclaimed, your face contorted in embarrassment.

“Come here. You got to bring down your temperature. You are still running a slight fever.” Chris cooed, uncovering your face. He walked over to the other side of the bed and brought the bucket of water over.You glanced over and noticed that the bucket still had ice it it and they were not fully melted yet.

“Have you been staying up all night cold toweling me?” You frowned worriedly. Chris must have had stayed up and had only fallen asleep for a while before your morning screams earlier, considering that the ice in the bucket were still new.

“I just wanted to make sure your fever goes down. It worried and pained me so much seeing you pass out like that.” Chris said, worry thick in his voice.

“I’m sorry to worry you.” You whispered, touched by the way Chris had looked after you when you couldn’t. You had missed him ever since the break up, but having him right there in front of you just made you miss him so much more.

“Now be a good girl and get some rest? I’ve already informed your work that you won’t be coming in today, so just rest up, all right? I’ll be here with you, so you don’t have to worry about anything.” Chris said, touching your face gently.

“Thank you, Chris.” You nodded. “How about you? You were up all night because of me, you should rest up too or I’ll feel so bad.”

“Don’t worry, I still have the next few hours free before my next schedule call. I’ll get some rest when I am sure your fever is all gone.” Chris assured you as he changed the cold towel on your forehead again.

You nodded again, feeling yourself drifting off to sleep with Chris’ strong and secure form right next to you. Just before sleep found you again, you felt a light peck on your forehead from Chris’ soft lips.

#Chris evans x reader #chris evans imagines #chris evans fluff #chris evans x y/n #Chris evans fanfic #Chris evans #Chris evans fanfiction

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bored-storyteller · 3 years

Note

Hello! I remember you said you could write for Sally Face even though it's not on your list (if I dreamed of it, excuse me 🙏), since you still look like you're in the fandom... How about the #4 of the prompt list with Sally Face? If you do not write for him I apologize 😭

Hello dear Anon! Yes, Sally Face maybe is the video game I'm most fond of, I can write for him, I just don't always feel like making the requests that come to me about this game. But don't worry! Asking is always fine! Thanks for the request!

P.s. This is more fluff than angst I think, I apologize, is that there is already a lot of angst for him

73- Sally Face, Sal Fisher x Reader

From the prompt list

4- “Do you know what it’s like?”

Gizmo's purr lazily fills the silence in the room, the big cat is taking his ration of free pampering perched in your boyfriend's lap.

His fingers glide absently on the white and tawny fur of the half-asleep feline, while behind his mask you catch nothing but an absent gaze directed at the void between his knees.

By now that beautiful sky-colored eye of his communicates with you without the need for words, and you see how much it seems dull and lost, so much so that it appears almost glass like the one on the right.

Sal is always so sweet and so strong. He has so much weight on his shoulders, yet you always see him accepting everyone else's too. He never complains, he doesn't fidget, and he doesn't scream, not even when he gets angry, and if he does he apologizes as if he's at fault.

You love him, you really love him. You feel it in your guts, especially now, that he is like this.

You don't really know what's troubling him, yet you see how sad he is. His shoulders are bent slightly forward, and his blue hair slips free, covering even more of his usual mask.

Even though you know you are free with him, you are terribly afraid of hurting him. You're afraid of saying something too much, something he doesn't deserve.

As you leave the book you were reading by your side, you try to remember when Sal began to wither.

You noticed it after the last outing you did with the others, but you have no idea if those thoughts that seem to be spinning in his head were already floating around before, and you curse yourself for being so inattentive towards him.

"Give me space Gizmo" you mutter with a playful pout, picking up the lazy cat to move it a little further "I want the cuddles too."

Sal just cooes as his hands remain motionless, letting you nestle your head in his lap.

Once you are comfortable in your new nest, his fingers gently touch your forehead, while you are busy trying to come to terms with the big cat who insists on trying to stay on his master's lap too, at the cost to sit on your face.

“Come on Gizmo. Let me be a little jealous every now and then. " You snort, pushing the royal furry butt away from your nose.

"Are you jealous?" Sal's question is surmounted by the meow of the fake tiger who decides to snuggle in the hollow between your shoulder and your neck.

Your eyes roll up into his gaze and for a moment you don't know how to read that question. You feel him terribly serious, and in a way, you don't know where he is going.

"Yes ... I'm jealous of you ... that is ... is it normal I think?" You know that sincerity is always the best choice with him, but you still bite your tongue, wondering if you are giving the wrong idea.

His caresses have stopped while he silently looks at you, and you don't know what he's thinking, you don't know if you've unknowingly touched a nerve or if you just added a new thought to him.

"Why?" His question comes out as a surrendered sigh "You have no reason ... I say ... it is you who can make others love you, not me."

His words take your breath away for a moment.

"What are you saying…?" You murmur, as you raise a hand to touch his turquoise locks "you know how to make yourself loved even by those who don't even know how to love ..." you whisper softly, yet you don't seem to convince him.

His sigh becomes more impressive in the rumble of his mask, and you look at him patiently, while his hands undo the hooks that block it to his face.

Few people know what lies behind that prosthesis, and it hardly ever happens that he leaves himself so spontaneously in the sight of others. It's because it's you, you know, and it flatters you, yet something so immediate still surprises you.

You believe that his face is something magical, because no matter how grotesque it is, how almost you could say that there is no face, but you love it, you loved it from the first moment you saw it. Maybe because you were already in love with him.

"You were beautiful that night." His words still confuse you, and you force yourself to accept the idea of having entered a minefield. So you were right, was it your last outing that upset him?

"Sal ..." you get up, and now even Gizmo has realized he has to leave space for you, moving to the next pillow.

He doesn't look at you, his eyes are closed, but he continues to keep himself completely exposed to you.

"I really mean it. You are always beautiful to me, but that night ... that night you felt beautiful too, didn't you? You were, you really were, and ... "his shoulders give way a little further forward, as if he were about to collapse under an invisible weight. "And if you hadn't been with me, someone would have come to you. Maybe he would have offered you a drink and then ... "

Your lips part for a few seconds, looking for something to say, but you really don't know what ground you're walking on.

"I'm not really beautiful Sal, I'm just-"

"A normal person. What else do you want?" His abrupt interruption silences you.

In a moment his eye is on you again, alarmed: “Sorry. I'm so sorry. Forgive me, I didn't mean to be bad. "He whispers softly.

Sal Fisher, always so attentive to others even in his moments of despair.

"Only that ... you ... do you know what it’s like? To be like that…"

His voice just trembles, and you forget to breathe. You would like to remove all doubts and insecurities from him, but you cannot do it.

"No ... no Sal, I don't know ..."

"That's okay ..." he murmurs, trying to console the guilt of your tone "I don't know what it is like to be you either, but ... it can't be so pleasant to kiss bare teeth ... right? It must not be pleasant to feel this dead flesh against your skin, and it must not be pleasant to wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and find this monster a few inches from your face ... I just think ... I just think you should know that you can certainly find someone else ... someone else other than me. "

You have always admired him, also for all the strength he has to live with that weight - one of many - that he carries with him. Perhaps subconsciously he has always found a way to make his flaws simply characteristics, his style. With or without his ponytails, Sal was always recognizable and, in a sense, charismatic.

But you know that even if he is so strong, so resilient, the weight does not disappear.

"Sally Face ..." you murmur softly, as you move your legs to be able to sit astride his lap.

"You know ... I've always looked for many things from life." Your fingers casually play with his tufts of hair "And I swear to you I never thought I'd find what's really essential to me right here."

Your palms rest gently on his rib cage as his slowly brush your hips.

"You might find someone different from me too, Sally Face, but I don't want you to, please." You just smile "Also because ... after a nightmare you are the first thing I look for, and when I find you ..." leaning forward you are greeted by the loving arms of your boyfriend, while you take refuge in his chest, snuggling up to his heart "I do this, and I stay listening to you until I fall asleep again. When you sleep peacefully you never notice, but you always welcome me. "

Curled up there on his chest like now, you have no idea what's in Sal's eyes. All you see are a few blue locks of him falling over your cheeks, while he lets you relax under his chin.

His silence leaves you on alert, and even if you don't move, you look for any clues that might tell you something about his emotions.

A slight tremor in his chest and a restrained sob from him make your heart tremble, but his slowly calming beat just makes you snuggle closer to his body.

"I-" he starts off lightly, but then stops immediately, and when he resumes, you're sure he's changed the subject, but it doesn't matter anymore. "Am I such a heavy sleeper?" He asks, with a shivering chuckle amid the slight gasps of silent tears.

You laugh lightly as you lift yourself up to look at him. In your hands, his cheeks are rough and wet, but even as tears flow from his eyes, he doesn't look agitated or hurt.

"Well, you recover the sleep that all your nightmares take away from you."

Your fingers slide gently under his eyelids to collect his tears. You don't ask him why he cries; you know that in his chest he has a reservoir where he keeps all his emotions and, every now and then, they pretend to come out.

"Wake me up next time you have a nightmare, you're always there when I have mine."

You smile softly as you rest your forehead against him. You wouldn't change him for the world.

"For once, let me take care of you Sal."

His sigh hits your nose as he snuggles a little more against you. Calmly it seems that he can channel his emotions into a single torrent.

"Take care of me?" He murmurs against your lips “How about picking up the phone and ordering a pizza for the two of us? It would make me very, very happy. "

Your cheerful laugh fills the room, while your lips touch what remains of his: "And the ice cream?"

"And the ice cream." He confirms as he accepts your sweet kiss.

There seems to be a long night of pampering with Sal and Gizmo ahead of you, what more could you ask for?

You gently kiss his cheek one last time, before getting up in search of the device to order your dinner.

"Hey ..." before you're too far away, your hand is lovingly held by Sal's "I don't want anyone else next to me."

Your eyes dive into him for a moment, and what you find is nothing but a clear and sincere sky that takes your breath away every time it lands on you.

"Me neither. I wouldn't want anyone else even for a single day of my existence. "

#sally face #sally face x reader #sally face sal #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #one shot #angst/comfort #fluff

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

Text

longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Bucky is kidnapped by Hydra to reactivate the Winter Soldier.

word count: 2.924 words. it worth it, i promise!!!

warnings/tags: none. angst as hell mostly. but it has a happy ending.

author notes: i don't speak russian, but i haven't used google translate either, so no worries. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

join the tag list NEW!!! here.

No. It couldn't be possible. It had to be part of a terrible nightmare. Bucky couldn't have been kidnapped by Hydra again.

You didn't know what to expect in the ship flying to the secret location of the organization. For Stark, it didn't take more than a couple of minutes to track the arm down, since Shuri put a small monitor on it when the soldier stayed in Wakanda. She never told it, wanting to use it in some kind of circumstance like the one you all were going through now. And you couldn't be more grateful, but it didn't help to make you feel better.

You were sitting close to the back hatch. Back rested against the metallic wall and legs curled to your chest. Nothing inside your head more than the hallucination of a pair of blue eyes staring at you. Blaming yourself was something you couldn't avoid. You should have been with him, by his side, protecting him as many times you promised him. But in fact, you just failed him. You failed his trust, his love. You let them take him. Only God knew which torture Hydra was putting him under, while you were there, lamenting.

You didn't even notice Steve's presence squatting next to you until he placed a hand on your shoulder. Then, you raised your face towards him. He was suffering too. In the end, Bucky was his long-life friend, his big brother. He lost him once and felt like he was going to lose him twice. Although this time was different. You were carrying the dispositive that could put to sleep back the winter soldier, but, at what cost?

“Buck got you now. Everything is gonn—”. He spoke in plural, referring to your last night's talk.

“How could you be so calm, Steve? How do you do it?” You whispered through your trembling lips, about to break in crying.

“Because he needs us focused, not distracted”.

He was wise. Captain America was wiser than anyone in that ship. He curled the left corner of his lips up, trying to make you feel good, trying to transmit you the encouragement you needed to not give up. And he did, more or less. You had to fight harder than ever. For Bucky, and only for Bucky. That's why you didn't hesitate on jumping out from the ship when it landed on the cold hard ground, as the freezing weather hit you on the face.

Following the plan, you ran quietly to the back door hidden under a huge layer of snow. Shaking part of it with the palm of your hand, you placed the device with technology from Wakanda on the locker. Not later than fifteen seconds, it deciphered the code to open the hatch. Once in position, the Avengers followed you downstairs. The passage was empty and silent. The only sound that broke it was a couple of rats running away from your presence. You all had studied the plans of the building, mostly underground, remembering exactly where you had to go.

The coast was clear, that was the reason why you all were so confused. You were expecting to find more than a dozen of agents, but when T'Challa enunciated through your earwigs that he only located two heat spots, you couldn't believe it. How only one man kidnapped the most fearless assassin up to now? Tortuous and bitter screams dragged you back to reality, causing your brain to react to make your legs run faster than ever in your whole damn life. You knew by heart that voice beneath all the pain.

Your skin bristled when your gaze landed on that chair of horrors, connected to an enormous power source. Bucky was sitting there against his want.

“... добросердечный… возвращение на родину… один…”

“STOP IT”. Steve yelled.

Huge mistake. You were aware of it when —yes— that man stopped reciting the Russian words to re-activate the Winter Soldier, but only enough time to push a red button near to him and close the heavy door in front of you. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. At the moment you glimpsed Steve’s shield sliding above the floor, straight to the inside of the room where Bucky was being tortured, you followed the same way. Never in your life, you were this fast. Like a lightning bolt, you snaked yourself under the small distance between the door and the ground before being closed. Now, it was you, that man and the soldier.

“You’re late…” He mocked with an awful American accent, under James crying out loud in pain. “грузовой ваг—”.

Your left hand moved quickly to unholster your gun and shoot him. One… Two… Three… Four bullets right to his head. The man fell dead before he couldn’t complete the command. You didn’t lose time, running to the controls to try to turn that machine off. But it was impossible. Even if you knew Tony could do it, there wasn’t signal inside those large and wide walls made of steel reinforced. You were in one of those abandoned soviet bunkers, that could save you from Armageddon. You were inhaling and exhaling so fast that your lungs never got really full, trying to focus, trying to shut every single noise around up. Trying to think of a plan b. But it was your heart who pushed you to act and not your brain. Grabbing Steve’s shield, you aimed for the energy source before tossing it like a damn frisbee.

That thing blew up, turning off any kind of light and dispositive around, as the sparks and the cables decorated your surroundings. Just like the fire that started to burn down a pile of boxes with different documents of Hydra. But that wasn't why you were impatient. Catching the shield when it came back to you, your legs moved immediately to Bucky, still stirring on his seat for a few seconds else. Then, he simply stopped shaking. Her eyes were wide opened. Reddened, in tears. His chest rose and fell violently. His heart was racing. And you could see the trauma taking control over his body in holy silence.

You didn't doubt removing the protection from his mouth along the restraints keeping him on the chair. Your fingers trembled like never before, not having any more time to lose. Probably, the Avengers would be trying to open the door when the emergency red lights illuminated the bunker, producing a loud alarm sound to indicate that something was going wrong inside the facilities.

“C'mon, Buck… C'mon, we have to leave”. You told him, trying to help him to stand up.

But as soon as your hand was about to land on his arm of vibranium, the five cold digits got closed around your throat. Soon, the lack of air for you was more than evident. He got up on his own, not needing you to do it. The ocean blue in his eyes turned into a dark storm. There wasn't any gesture on his face, more than his jaw clenching, pressing his teeth together. That wasn't Bucky —your Bucky—, but the unstable trained assassin Hydra turned him in. You could barely gulp saliva, gripping his metallic wrist with both of your hands to try to stop him from murdering you.

He couldn't. He couldn't kill you. His strength was suffocating you with no mercy, though.

For a moment, you felt too weak to fight, seeing everything around you getting blurred and darker. Blacking out. But there was something inside you, a sweet tone of voice calling your name. A male voice. Your eyelids rolled down bit by bit, wanting to concentrate on that honeyed sound being closer and closer.

“любить”.

The sore whisper left your lips. Love. The first time Bucky told you about love came to your mind. He told you about his family. George, Winnifred, Rebecca. He told you how much he desired to have a family of his own. To be loved.

“новый”.

Your almost dead fingers traced the form of his new arm made in Wakanda when you felt him lifting you from the floor, being suspended on air.

“сороковых годов”.

Trying to keep a firm tone of voice as much as the pressure let you, the Russian words were spat to the confused soldier, who wasn't understanding what you were doing. The forties changed his life. He was sent to war and, lately, captured by HYDRA. It was something he'd never forget, part of his DNA.

“заката”.

You didn't know what the hell your subconscious was doing either till that precise instant. You were reprogramming him. You were using his own memories to reset his wiped brain from them. Dusk. The first night he spent in Wakanda, Bucky was terrified. But you stayed with him. You comforted him by saying that everything was going to be okay, that his life would be different. That he was safe. That he was at home.

“лето”.

His last night of summer in that kingdom, Bucky took you to his favorite place between the woods, wanting to show you the fireflies fluttering in the middle of the gloom. He used to walk there whenever he woke up from a nightmare. Those small insects used to make him feel better for some reason he didn't comprehend. Until he saw their light reflecting on your amazed orbs. Bucky knew then he was in love with you. Besides his long-life friend, the only person who never judged him, who never ran away from him. The same person that now was dying under his fingers.

“шесть”

Six years took him to be Bucky, after his last war, after the last effort, after the last jump. He was a new man. You made him a new man. A good one. You guided him through the right way. You helped him to get used to the twenty-one century. You accompanied him to therapy and stayed in the waiting room every single session until he finished.

“заткнуться”.

The soldier ordered you to shut up, earning quite the opposite when you knew it was sorting some kind of effect on him, as soon as you felt some relief by the grip loosening around your throat and your tiptoes touching the ground. Little by little, you opened your eyes again, gluing them on the blue ones fixed on you.

“боец”.

He wasn't a super soldier, he was a fighter. He spent the last six years of his life fighting for it, fighting for ruling his existence, fighting for being pardoned for crimes he didn't want to commit, fighting for your love. Bucky furrowed swallowing, allowing you to place your feet on the floor.

“Бруклин”.

And when he demonstrated to the world that he was no longer the Winter Soldier, but James Bucky Barnes, he moved to his birthplace. Brooklyn. You and he rented an apartment together when you both learned that you couldn't live apart. That you were made for each other.

“Отец…”

A tear ran down your cheek, slowly moving your left hand to his free one. A shiver toured his backbone when he felt your warm touch holding his hand and, even if his cold fingers were still around your throat, the soldier bowed his head to follow the connection between the two of you. His flesh hand landed on your stomach, pressing it under yours, trying to transmit to him the news about your pregnancy status. Bucky was going to be a father. You were going to build a family as he always wished.

“Свобода”.

As the sob escaped your soul, his hand made of vibranium released your neck. Freedom was what he got after all those years.

Bucky was free.

His hold was the only thing that kept you on your feet, pining to the cold hard ground, as well as you trying to fill your lungs with the heavy air around you because of the dense smoke coming from the flames burning down that damn place. You watched Bucky picking the shield close to you, probably believing it could be easier to kill you with it than with his own hands. Your arms automatically wrapped your abdomen, as if you could protect your unborn child from that horror, crying James' name to remember you.

“James… James…”

You weren't able to stop whining, feeling a heavy sorrow under your chest, covering your vitals organs. The noisy sound from the bunker was suddenly turned into a constant beep, beep, beep that caused you to frown yet keeping your eyes closed. You called him once and again until a warm hand laced his fingers with you. Peace invaded you eventually, after a fond squeeze around your skin followed by a pair of rough lips pressed on your forehead. You let yourself go, not finding any strength inside your heart to continue awake.

The next time you opened your eyes, you needed a moment to adjust your gaze to the sunlight. Purring feeling more comfortable than before, you rolled on your stomach, sinking your nose into the large pillow. Bucky's scent was like a punch of reality. Your eyes snapped open as your pulse increased, starting to panic. Sitting up, your orbs moved quickly all around the room you recognized instantly. It was your dorm in the Compound, the one you used to share with your boyfriend —and the father of your child. It was empty. No trace of James anywhere. You tossed away the oxygen mask and the sheets covering your stiff anatomy, getting up from the bed. Another huge mistake.

Everything spun around you, feeling strong dizziness hitting your head, having to sit down for a second. But as soon as you felt recovered, you stood up again walking straight to the main door to step out. The hallway was deserted, hearing some voices coming from the meeting room. You followed them slowly, finding balance with your palm against the walls. Sam was the first one noticing your presence, coming faster to help you.

“James… James…” You mumbled, not really sure about when you started to sob again, whilst your muscles got tense with every syllable.

“He's okay, he's okay, take it easy, girl”. He tried to calm you as Steve reached you to bring you to the closest chair.

“We don't know what you did… but even if that man introduced the commands again… you turned it off”. Natasha spoke this time.

“I re— I repro— reprogramed him”.

The confusion was more than evident between the Avengers present in the room. But no one of them had the need to ask how. The spy taught you Russian in your free time, you weren't a fluent speaker, but it was enough to have a chat. Even so, you weren't going to say the words you used. You weren't going to make Bucky go through another wipe. If they worked, you'd make sure that he'd hear them when the occasion required it.

“I wan— wanna see him… please”. You cried covering your face with both hands, desolated after the hell of the situation you had to live.

“He's resting”. Steve informed you, squatting close and placing a hand on your right thigh to gently caress it. “And you should do the same. For your baby”.

“There's no way you're gonna stop me from seeing him”. You replied, raising your head and looking at him through your eyelids. Silently pleading.

He snorted, convinced that you wouldn't change your mind. Nodding two times with his head, he stood up and offered you a hand to hold it and help you to walk. Steve guided you through upstairs, following your pace step by step —he could have carried you onto his arms, but he wasn't sure if he could hurt you accidentally. You were too weak, barely breathing properly because of all the smoke you swollen inside the bunker. Although you started to feel somewhat erratic and excited as you were coming to Bucky's old dorm.

Steve opened the door for you, letting you walk inside before closing it behind your back. Your boyfriend was peacefully sleeping under the sheets. There were some scars on his face, already healed but yet seeming painful. The only explanation you found to be there was that Bucky used the shield to open the door and take you out of the bunker. A theory that made more sense when you noticed that he hadn't his prosthesis and his shoulder was covered by a thin black microfiber.

You headed to the bed, tucking in to wrap his warm and heavy body between your arms. At the moment he felt you, he embraced you as better as he could, not opening his eyes but shedding a tear. His lips started to tremble as you pecked them, previous to hiding his face into your neck.

“I'm so sorry…” Bucky sobbed, causing your whole anatomy to shudder because of the sorrow in his voice.

“We're gonna be okay, my love… You, me, our baby… Our family”.

His crying increased after those two words, caressing his back slowly to comfort him somehow. You knew that this recovery would be hard and painful, being conscious of how close he had been to end with your life. He didn't want to do it, nobody could deny it. You were everything he had, everything he always wished for deep inside his soul and heart. And the acknowledgment of having a baby with you only provoked him to feel guiltier.

But as you said so, everything was going to be okay.

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls Extra 3

Summary: Wen Ruohan, who is still a work in progress, confronts Qingheng-jun over Lan Qiren (set between Chapter 21 and 22)

- ao3 -

To cultivate is to go against destiny: this was something all cultivators knew.

That destiny was what tied all of nature together, uniting all things within one path to flow together along the same stream to the same ocean, and that to fight against that current was to fight alone – this, no one knew better than Wen Ruohan.

Excluding perhaps only those secluded cultivators that resided in their mysterious mountains, never seeing the light of day, there was no cultivator in the world like him. The years since his birth numbered a century and more, yet his face was youthful as it had been in his twenties; all those around him, being neither so talented nor so lucky nor even so ruthless, were born and lived and grew old and died even as he remained the same – the same, and yet not unchanging. Surrounded by short-lived mayflies, he existed beyond their understanding; by now, he had learned to look down upon them all as if looking upon ants, or else he might go mad for loneliness.

It was easier to be indifferent. Better to be frozen through and through despite all the flames of his fiery cultivation style, to ignore their meaningless cries and meaningless lives and focus only on himself alone. Sometimes Wen Ruohan wondered whether he had actually died when his normal lifespan was meant to have ended and that he now existed only as a ghost, full of resentment: it was far easier to be resentful of those living creatures around him that seemed to instinctively understand one another in a way he no longer did, to ignore them or to treat them with disdain, to allow their pain to be his own reprieve from his own endless ennui – a small child pulling the wings off of flies to amuse himself and remind himself that these creatures before him were actually alive.

Hatred was easy. Living was hard.

Why should he burden himself with the effort of living – with anything other than amusing himself?

He still hadn’t figured out the answer to that, but apparently some part of the answer was plain old irritation.

Lao Nie was too high ranked to be ignored, as Wen Ruohan did care for his sect if he cared for nothing else, and unlike everyone else he refused to be ignored; he had forced his way into Wen Ruohan’s life and made him feel things once again whether he wanted to or not. Mostly what he felt was anger: anger at being treated the way he treated others (for only he was real, and the rest of them fake, and for that reason only he deserved all the good things in the world), anger at being bothered by that interminable pestilence of a man, anger at – feeling things.

Remembering things.

Wen Ruohan was unwillingly reminded of the brother who had loved him and betrayed him and left him behind with a blood-soaked gift he’d never wanted, a cold corpse so long in the ground that he had undoubtedly been completely consumed by worms; he was reminded of those children he had so greatly cherished, so long ago, the ones he would have been willing to die for but instead had to bury. The memories, and the feelings that came with them, had driven him to distraction, feeling at first as though there was nothing to be found in Lao Nie’s immensely irritating brand of affection but needless pain, but somewhere along the line that little spark of irritation had become more than just that.

It hadn’t just been irritation, but curiosity – curiosity, interest, humor, affection…even a feeling of indulgence, a desire to spoil someone and treat them well for no other reason than in order to see them enjoy it, feelings he hadn’t felt in decades. And somehow that mixture of irritating and curiosity had led him not only to Lao Nie, who sent himself quite happily to his bed, but had driven him in a moment of impulse to set up a trap and net himself a brand new brother of his own.

That, too, was to Lao Nie’s credit…or perhaps fault.

Wen Ruohan had tried for years and years now to deny that he felt affection for Lao Nie, and yet it hadn’t helped him one bit in diminishing that affection. Even if the man were acting very odd as of late, almost as if he did not realize what a rare prize he had won for himself through his endless persistence – it wasn’t that Wen Ruohan needed to be wanted, of course, but it was rather irritating that the man who had stuck himself to his side like a burr that wouldn’t be peeled off would promptly disappear the second it turned out Wen Ruohan actually did want him there – it was still there, unchanging.

It might be affection now, but it had started, at first, with anger, that emotion that the Nie sect knew as well as their own hearts.

It was anger that Wen Ruohan felt now.

Not at or about Lao Nie, for once, nor for his sect, one of the few things he cared for. He certainly wasn’t angry any longer at the shining pearl he had snatched away from the Lan sect all those years before, their vision averted and distracted by the glittering but ultimately insubstantial sparkle of Qingheng-jun – he’d found that he could no longer feel anger when he thought of Lan Qiren, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he reminded himself that it had been Lan Qiren who had turned away from him, distraught and upset on behalf of those meaningless flies.

Lan Qiren, who had, despite it all, missed him.

Who thought of him perhaps as often as Wen Ruohan thought of him in return – affection again, that insidious emotion, and Lan Qiren hadn’t even been the one to be persistent this time. Ridiculous, really, and even more ridiculous that it had been Wen Ruohan who had been the first to bend.

He had condescended to come to the Cloud Recesses to find him, all on the strength of an extremely implausible rumor, knowing even as he flew over that he was being a fool – there was obviously no way that Lan Qiren had actually done what he’d been accused of by the wagging tongues of inferior men, and so his trip to the Cloud Recesses was obviously an excuse to go see him and make up with him.

He hadn’t even removed the tongues of the people he’d heard it from, as a gesture of good faith.

He’d come to the Cloud Recesses for Lan Qiren, and he’d found –

He’d found –

Wen Ruohan was often angry after Lao Nie had forcefully pulled him out of the frozen torpor that was the depth of his hate, but he had not been this angry in a very, very long time.

He moved slower than usual, his rage deadening him like a snake in winter. His anger was not like Lao Nie’s, which burned hot and then snuffed itself out, restoring at once to the usual good humor, but rather lasted and lasted, glacial and slow and inexorable. The angrier he was, the slower he moved; if all his years upon the earth had taught Wen Ruohan anything, it was that he needed to keep a clear head when he was truly angry.

Even if only so that he could fully enjoy taking his inevitable revenge.

Wen Ruohan had used a technique to coax Lan Qiren into a deep sleep, meant for healing, and handed him over to a few of his most trusted associates with instructions to see to his injuries and take whatever steps necessary to reduce his pain in the short term. That the cost and effort expended was immaterial did not need to be stated, of course.

Once that was done, he had gone to the rooms of the Lan sect leader, step by slow step, and as he’d hoped, Qingheng-jun was there by the time he arrived, waiting to speak to him.

For all its loneliness, he reflected, there were many benefits to power.

“You’re in the wrong place,” he told him, seeing that, as he’d suspected, the Lan sect rooms were all oriented the same way.

Qingheng-jun frowned at him, clearly not understanding. “Sect Leader Wen –”

“You should take a few steps to the right,” Wen Ruohan clarified, gesturing, and making clear as he did that there would be no conversation until he was obeyed.

This, too, was the benefit of power.

Confused, Qingheng-jun did as he said, moving over until it matched up with the image Wen Ruohan had put together in his head on the way here: the stories told by his spies and the marks left on Lan Qiren’s body both, a hazy image of two brothers standing in a room that was laid out just the same but which was nothing alike.

“Perfect,” he said, and, curling his fingers into a fist, he punched him deep in the stomach.

Qingheng-jun’s complaint stuck in his throat as he gagged, the air expelled out of him by force – Wen Ruohan’s strikes were enough to shatter stone, and Qingheng-jun, however talented a cultivator, was not strong enough to be able to disregard them. He staggered, and Wen Ruohan caught him by the collar, slamming him against the wall and holding him up.

Just the way Qingheng-jun had done to Lan Qiren, just some few days before.

“How dare you,” Wen Ruohan snarled, and felt it again, that anger that was unlike any other anger. Anger that burned hot, not cold; anger that was like a furious flame, not the bright but unfeeling rays of the sun. Anger for someone, rather than against them…anger that was born of affection, rather than hate. “How dare you touch Qiren! He’s your brother!”

He’s my brother.

“He’s no brother of mine,” Qingheng-jun spat, vicious and bitter. “He hasn’t been in years, not since you stole him away and made him value you over his duty to his ancestors. The only brother he is, is yours – isn’t that how you want it?”

It was, of course, but that wasn’t the point.

Wen Ruohan sneered. “Do you think I do not know about you?” he asked. “You, the gifted child, talented and shining, whose world fell apart when your younger siblings died – your father forced you to take on the burden of keeping him intact, told you that you were the only reason he had to live, that you were perfect and therefore had to remain perfect, no matter the cost to you. In his grief he told you that it was because your brother was born that your mother died and you lost everything, and in your grief you believed him; in your rage you lashed out at him, and found that no one would stop you from doing so…it was easy to blame him, wasn’t it?”

Qingheng-jun glared at him.

“It was,” Wen Ruohan said. “You were a child: it was easy to hate where your father hated, to blame where your father blamed, and to lead everyone in the sect to hate right alongside you. You even convinced yourself that you were justified, when in fact you were only jealous – you had to be perfect, while he could be anything at all.”

He casually slammed his fellow sect leader into the wall once more.

“But you knew better. You knew. You had friends, you had allies, you even had Lao Nie, who knows more than most about righteousness – even if you were blameless for what you did as a child, led on by those failures that were your elders, the same cannot be said for you as an adult. You have learned morality and ethics, and yet you chose to continue that hatred, to rely on that crutch – to take the easy route, the selfish route. Why bother to do the work to improve yourself?”

Why bother indeed.

For some reason, Wen Ruohan was suddenly reminded of Lan Qiren’s eyes at the Fire Palace, full of horror and heartbreak, the way he looked as though his world had shattered even as he’d fled – as if leaving Wen Ruohan behind were the hardest choice he’d ever had to make, rather than a betrayal.

It’s easy to hate, he suddenly thought, his own words echoing back at him. The easy route, the crutch…

Wen Ruohan frowned instinctively before casting the thought aside to be examined at a later time.

“You should have done better,” he concluded. “You should do better?”

Qingheng-jun laughed in his face. “Why should I?” he asked savagely. “What use is he to me?”

“Use?” Wen Ruohan asked, and somehow found himself surprised by the question. Not a pleasant surprise, the way it had been when Lan Qiren had effortlessly resisted his compulsion as a child, or when he had turned out to be a thoughtful and oddly charming conversationalist, passionate about his interests and willing to share them as if he were handing out pieces of himself; it was merely that old familiar surprise that there were people this stupid in this world. “Do treasures need to be useful to be valuable?”

“You do not understand,” Qingheng-jun said, and that was the most absurd thing Wen Ruohan had yet heard: of course he understood. He understood far too well the darker emotions of humanity, the way they failed people and twisted people into terrible things – even Lan Qiren had his faults, his temper and his inflexibility; Wen Ruohan did not deceive himself into thinking that his sworn brother was a saint.

But he was himself, and that was worth something.

Even if someone like Qingheng-jun could not see it.

Wen Ruohan listened with only half an ear as Qingheng-jun spoke, seeking to justify himself and his behavior. It didn’t really matter what he said, not really; it was only excuses, in the end.

Instead of listening, Wen Ruohan recalled to himself the distant past: the madness of the Lan sect of his father’s generation, the chaos and terror of the wars they had begun – the miracles and atrocities they would and did commit for the sake of a loved one. They loved so deeply, these Lans; deeply and wholly and blindly, every one of them. To be the subject of their love would be to be their entire world, and even Qingheng-jun’s mad infatuation with the girl He Kexin was merely a pale echo of that love, though he did not know it. He loved the freedom she represented to him, not her: if he had loved her, he would have valued her happiness over his and let her go, no matter how he felt.

Put their happiness over your own, think first of what they would want, what would be better for them rather than what you wanted – only the madness of denying yourself for the sake of another was love.

A strange thought, although a useless one.

He was not a Lan, after all.

Still, however old, the memories of that past still lingered, leaving their mark on his heart all these years later – of all the sects in the cultivation world, Wen Ruohan was most wary of the Lan.

“I’m taking Qiren back to the Nightless City with me,” he interrupted Qingheng-jun.

“Good!” the other man shouted. “Keep him!”

Wen Ruohan somehow hadn’t expected him to say that, and for a moment he felt seized with glee.

Yes, he thought to himself, suddenly pleased. Yes, I will keep him; is that not what I want from him, what I have long wanted from him? I have thought of him every day since he has gone, dreamt of him every night; there is a poison that has sunk within my veins that wears his face and torments me endlessly, and he himself is the only cure I can think of for it. I even have an excuse now, his own sect leader’s word – I don’t have to give him up any longer. I can keep him for good!

And then, in the midst of his joy, he suddenly had a useless thought:

…he won’t be happy about that.

Truly a useless thought. What did Wen Ruohan care about that? Nothing mattered – nothing ever mattered, nothing but him and what he wanted, his wishes and his desires.

He was the only real thing in the world, him and only him, standing alone.

All good things in the world ought to go to him, be with him. It would make him happy to have Lan Qiren with him, to keep him by his side; what did it matter what Lan Qiren, that mayfly only a little more interesting than other mayflies, would prefer? What did it matter that Lan Qiren loved his sect, which did not value him as it should? What did it matter that Lan Qiren still loved his brother, who did not return it?

Wen Ruohan would take him away from it all, keep him by his side, and Lan Qiren would be better off for it, no matter what he thought he wanted.

It was as simple as that.

“You will never cause him trouble again,” Wen Ruohan said, even though it was pointless: if he wasn’t going to let Lan Qiren return, then such warnings were unnecessary. “Or else this will not end so lightly.”

Qingheng-jun sneered at him.

Wen Ruohan sneered back and dropped him, turning back to the door.

He would carry Lan Qiren back to the Nightless City himself, he decided. He would carry him in his arms as he flew on his sword, and make sure that he was untroubled throughout the entire journey.

His shining pearl.

He’d take good care of it.

#mdzs #wen ruohan #qingheng-jun #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls #since so many people were asking for it #some context for WRH's eureka moment in chapter 23

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monodipita · 3 years

Text

Security (Yandere!Satoru Gojo x Non-Sorcerer Reader

Part 2 of the Yandere Satoru Gojo Reader-Insert Series!

Word Count: 1,954

Warnings: YANDERE CONTENT. GORE WARNING.

"When will you see that what I'm doing is good for you, [Y/N]? The world isn't safe for you anymore. I've told you this many times, and yet, you won't listen to me." His voice used to be as smooth as butter, now scratchy and raw from the screaming he'd done. Yours was completely gone. It'd given out by the second day of being in this hellhole.

Still, your eyes glared at him through the cage's bars like you had plenty to say to him.

"Don't look at me like that, please. I love you too much for you to be upset with me," his brows crumpled as his expression did behind those black optics of his. He reached up to grab your hand through the bars, but you only slapped it away from him. He recoiled from the bars and glared at you silently for a few moments.

"FUCK!" His outburst was sudden. You flinched at it, just in time to miss him use one of the many powers at his arsenal to flip the couch over in his apartment. A loud clang, followed by the sound of glass breaking, however, spared you any details you might've missed. The couch had been flipped over and it destroyed the coffee table.

You gasped and pressed your back against the cold, metal bars of the cage. Any distance mattered with him. "Y-you're a monster-!!" You sputtered through the pain of your throat begging you to stop speaking. You coughed, squeezing your eyes shut from the pain. "No, n-no, no no no," Gojo stormed over to the bars again, gripping them taut in his hands and looking at you intently. "[Y/N], no, please. It's not what it looks like, please-"

"-Leave me alone," your mouth worded. Your hands went over your face.

"...you'll come around again. You'll love me again, I know you will." Gojo removed himself from the bars. "All you need is time, I know it, and we'll go back to having dates every Friday... we'll go back to holding each other under the moonlight while Law & Order plays on the TV, I know it. I-I'll be back, okay? I'll give you some time to yourself. I'll get some medicine for that nasty cough while I'm out, okay?"

There were some sounds likely concerning the flipped-over couch, followed by the sounds of footsteps and the door opening, then closing. Another day to yourself... maybe. He might just drop off the medicine and leave. You sighed with relief. You could go back to focusing on how to get out of the cage in peace.

But it was hopeless. Some hours later, you were stuck with staring at the TV that faintly played anime on it. The door opening caused you to flinch and swallow thickly. Who was it?

It was none other than him. Two bags were in his hands. One was small, while the other... smelled good, like food. Your favorite food. "...[Y/N]," he addressed you as he walked up to the cage. "I got you something to eat to take with these meds, alright? A friend of mine hooked me up with something." He reached into the small bag to produce a pill bottle for you to see. He reached into the cage and gently set it down on the blanketed ground. "...would you like to come out here and eat it with me..."

He swallowed thickly.

"W-would you like to go outside... and we eat it together..."

You glared at him through the bars. Your stomach audibly growled, but you were stalwart. Eat? With him? He was just tempting you. There was no way he was going to let you out of this cage willingly. But that food... how long could you willingly ignore him until he left the food behind?

"Please," Gojo bowed his head, "I know you can't speak right now, but I know you're ignoring me... I-I can't take it."

"No, I can't take it anymore..."

He was careful to put the food down elsewhere and out of the way. You clambered to scramble away from the middle of the cage, to the back, where you would've been safe from his arms. But no... he was doing something different around this time. You looked on in awe and horror as his hands unlocked the cage. The door slowly crept open to reveal a world that you'd been deprived of for far too long. But you stayed put. Your eyes never left Gojo's figure, even if your heart beat at the anticipation of freedom. There was no freedom with this man, he was only unlocking his cage to restrict you further.

His arms climbed into the opened cage, soon, his body followed. His arms wrapped around your frozen body and pulled it close to his. The warmth of another human being was comforting, it almost made you close your eyes and nuzzle into his form.

But this was no man that you could live comfortably around any longer.

You struggled against his grasp, your hands went to his cheeks, your fingers dug their nails into his skin and pulled down. You could feel the skin underneath tearing, enough so to draw blood. "I won't let go," Gojo hissed through clenched teeth. With your body now taut against his, he pulled you out of the cage. He felt so much stronger than you... because he was. He picked your body up like it was nothing. He grabbed onto the pill bottle he left inside the cage, he grabbed the food, and he began to carry you out of the apartment.

It was uncomfortable at first... you didn't want to be anywhere within the proximity of this man, but to be out on the street, enjoying, bathing and basking in the sunlight that touched your skin for the first time in days... weeks, maybe, it felt all too good. You were frozen by simply enjoying the outside. You ate your food like it was nothing and scarfed down every last bit of it. Your drink felt nice running down your throat. Being outside was nice. No one around but the two of you, it would've been an ideal date.

"Are you enjoying yourself, [Y/N]? Isn't this nice?" Gojo's voice threatened to shatter your grandeur illusions. You nodded quickly to dismiss him, and returned to eating your food.

Until you felt Gojo's hand violently push your body down onto the ground.

You let out a coarse scream as your body collapsed on the sidewalk. Your arms did little to absorb the blow, in fact, it just made things worse, you could feel how skinned-up they were after only a moment of being in contact with the cement. You turned your head in horror to see Gojo lifting himself off of the bench and turning to face away from you, as if you weren't even there anymore... like he didn't know you existed.

"You're pretty perceptive, aren't you? I thought slaughtering your friend was enough of a hint for you to leave me alone," he spoke. It seemed like he was speaking into the air at nothing for all you knew. Your eyes widened with bewilderment, and they watched as Gojo walked up to whatever it was, or whoever it was that he was talking to... and wrapped his hand around it. You audibly gasped when you heard something audibly choking while Gojo raised it into the air... but what was it?! Nothing was there!!

You scrambled to your feet. This might've been the chance to escape!

"Get down, [Y/N]! NOW!" Gojo roared, "don't you EVER walk away from me!" His head flung in your direction and made you freeze with those deep, impossibly blue eyes of his. You swallowed thickly and dropped back to your knees by command, grimacing in pain from the feeling. How... how were you still responding to his commands? You had every chance to be free...

...instead, you watched, your eyes glued to the scene before you. Gojo had resorted to taking his anger out on whatever it was that he held in his hands by now, you could see every little piece of gore splattering all over the place. Blood coated his fists as his punches became progressively aggressive, until he resorted to bashing. Brain matter flew where it could.

The smell of iron began to flood the air, making you feel almost nauseous. What was he doing? What was he hitting that could actually cause all of this blood to come out of it? Was that... was that brain matter?

"I'm not going to listen to them, do you understand me?" He hissed to the corpse underneath them, "I love [Y/N] with all of my heart. I won't listen to anyone... who tells me that I cannot experience love in my life, no one!" His voice broke out into a yell, making you flinch again. It was horrifying to see something like this. The blood on him was real, the brain matter on the ground was real. You hysterically sobbed; you needed to get out of here, and fast. You felt that your life was in danger.

You tried to bring yourself to stand, but your knee pain was unbearable. You hissed and sat back on your ass to examine the wound, light scratch marks mingled with blood, dirt, and loose cement like you'd fallen off a scooter. "Ugh!" You sobbed out. Keep trying, keep trying, keep—

"Did you hurt yourself? I'm so sorry for not paying attention, but something important grabbed mine,"

Gojo lifted himself from the ground. You glanced up at him through bleary eyes... no, you couldn't let him touch you, at any cost. So you did what you thought was best: and began to backwards crawl into the street behind you, to reach the other side of the sidewalk. He wouldn't dare walk into the street, would he? It was hypocritical of you to think that way of course, but you felt safer being in the street than anywhere near him.

"[Y/N], no! Please," Gojo stumbled forward, clenching the bench tightly in order to balance himself while his free hand extended for you. "Please, come back. I can't bear the idea of losing you!"

"St-stay away from me!" You screamed at him, your voice clearly scratchy. That was enough speaking for now, your voice couldn't handle anything else. You could feel your hands touch the hot bitumen under you. You were on the street now. As quickly as you could, you attempted to pass. But he was quicker.

"Don't you understand? The world doesn't want us to be together," he sounded delirious. The blood coated his face and hands, his shirt. His glasses were gone. Those blue eyes that you'd never seen before stared at you. "But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep us together, even if it means resorting to drastic measures." A wary smile spread across his lips. "I need you for my sanity, I need you for my serotonin. I can't envision a world without you, I don't want to, don't you see that?"

Your hands gave underneath you and made you fall flat. You rolled over into the fetal position and squeezed your eyes shut. You didn't have the strength to resist his arms as they wrapped around you so carefully. He lifted you off the ground and pulled you into his arms, hugging you taut to his chest as he forced you to stand. He kissed your temple sweetly as he began to drag you back into the house.

Back to the cage.

"The world doesn't want us to be together, but I won't let that stop me."

#yandere #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yandere satoru gojo #reader insert #gender neutral insert

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