#who fuckin sent this. fuck you. come off anon so i can kick your ass. (the thoughts this ask sparked consumed almost 3 days of my life)

[deep-space-lines]

okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.

yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything

((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))

and then they fucked nasty the end

#my art #my writing #who fuckin sent this. fuck you. come off anon so i can kick your ass. (the thoughts this ask sparked consumed almost 3 days of my life) #i dont know what this even is #i just work here #disclaimer i don't come from a particularly religious background so like. #most of my knowledge of christianity comes from when my mom sent me to vbs for cheap babysitting in middle school or absorbed via osmosis #so i have no idea what im talking about except for when i do! hope this helps #i love how i say that like i expect biblical scholars to tear apart my ultrakill gay fanfiction #if you are a biblical scholar and you want to tear apart my ultrakill gay fanfiction please know i am not going to read the bible for this #ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #gabv1el #blood #love tagging ultrakill stuff with blood. hmm yes the floor here is made out of floor

[dreamerstreamer]

Green With Envy

Pairing: Dream / Clay x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] In Dream’s opinion, you and Sapnap are getting a bit too close for comfort. Combine that with a war, and it looks like he’s in way over his head.

Warnings: some cursing (because Tommy exists) + tw// injury

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: requested by an anon who wanted some dream angst with a fluffy ending! the story takes place during the attack on L’Manberg. love to see that my first dream work is just packed to the brim with tropes. i had a bit of a rough time mapping this one out, but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room, ruffling his hair as he went. “Good morning,” he greeted, collapsing onto the nearest couch.

On the other side of the room, you groaned. “‘Good morning’, my ass,” you muttered. “Mornings suck.”

He let out a small laugh at that, admiring your form sitting across from him. You were easily the biggest anti-morning person he knew. You could probably write a whole essay on why they were just the worst. But right now, in this moment, you looked absolutely adorable curled up in the couch cushions. Your hair was a complete mess, your clothes were askew, and a frown was plastered to your face.

Yet you were still so beautiful.

He wondered how you did it—how you managed to be so effortlessly wonderful in that special way of yours. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but he was sure of one thing.

He liked you. A lot.

If only he knew how to tell you.

Sapnap strolled into the room, holding a glass of milk. “Morning, cuties,” he hummed, taking a sip. He glanced down at the grumbling couch lump that was you. “Is [Y/N] being a grump, again?”

Dream nodded, offering him a crooked smile. “You know it.”

For a moment, Sapnap paused. Then a devilish smile crossed his face and he set his glass down on the coffee table. He leapt over the back of the couch, crashing into the space next to you. Leaning over, he wrapped his arm around your smaller figure and pulled you into his chest. 

Dream froze in his spot.

What. The hell.

You let out a yelp at the sudden movement, your frown deepening. “Sapnap,” you said, “what are you—”

“Wakey, wakey!” he cried, his fingers going for your sides in a tickle attack. In an instant, you were howling with laughter, tears springing to your eyes as you kicked your arms and legs. Dream’s throat constricted at the sight, his heart beating faster at the sight of your smile but sinking knowing that he wasn’t the cause of it.

“Snappitus!” you screeched, smacking his head. “Snapmap, stop!” You let out a wheeze. “Oh my god, Sapnap! I’m going to kill y—”

Sapnap finally relented, dropping you back onto the couch cushion with a smile. “That’s the first time I think I’ve seen you smile in the morning, [Y/N].” He jut his thumb into his chest triumphantly. “And it was all thanks to me.”

You heaved, catching your breath before turning to look at him. “Snappitus Nappitus,” you crooned, reaching your hand over towards his face. He looked at you inquisitively. Suddenly, you flicked his forehead, and he fell back with a yelp.

“Dude!” he cried, glaring up at you from where he lay sprawled on the ground. “What the hell was that for?”

You cackled at his reaction, kicking at his armour. “Because you’re an idiot for thinking it was a good idea to do that.”

Sapnap let out a groan of defeat as he asked for you to at least pass him an ice pack for his “grave wound”. On the other side of the room, Dream’s expression was cold. A stone of uneasiness sank to the bottom of his stomach as he stood up, walking out of the living room with a heaviness in his step that he didn’t walk in with.

So, he thought to himself, his gut churning. 

Sapnap, huh?

The sun glared down at the earth from the sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Dream squinted up at it as he surveyed the weather.

The scheduled day to negotiate with L’Manberg over their territory had finally come.

Under any other circumstances, Dream would be having much more fun preparing for the journey, knowing very well that he was about to see some serious destruction. But today, he was in a terrible mood, and for one reason only.

For the past week, you and Sapnap had been spending practically every second together.

When Dream had sent Sapnap to burn down the forest surrounding L’Manberg’s walls, he had invited you to come with him. When Dream had asked you to hunt creepers to retrieve the gunpowder necessary for the TNT, you had brought Sapnap with you.

And he didn’t think it could get any worse, but even now, you were laughing at something Sapnap was saying, your grin shining brighter than the sun hanging in the sky above you.

Dream was tired of it.

“You have the dynamite sticks, right?” he asked, leading his horse away from the house.

George froze, then let out a long whine. “I forgot it in the storage house. Now, I have to go all the way back to get it.”

Despite his terrible mood, Dream let out a chuckle. “You’re so dumb, George,” he said teasingly, sending him a smirk. “How could you forget the most crucial part of the plan?”

George groaned. “I don’t know! I just forgot, okay?”

He waved a hand at him, pulling out his saddle. “Just go and grab some quickly, alright? We’ll wait for you until you get back.”

George nodded, hopping onto his horse. “I’ll be back soon.” With a snap of his reins, he was dashing down the hill toward the storage warehouse. 

The moment he disappeared over the hill, Dream’s smile vanished along with him. In the corner of his eye, he could see Sapnap chasing after you with a stick, his boots in your hand. A twinge of jealousy ran up his spine.

Wait—jealousy? No way. Dream wasn’t jealous, not one bit. 

With a deep sigh, he diverted his attention to attaching the saddle in his hands to his horse. Mere moments after he placed it upon his horse’s back, he heard footsteps approach him. He already knew who it was without having to look up.

“What do you want?” he said coldly, not bothering to look at you as he began clasping the saddle buckles shut. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. “Well, um,” you said, “I wanted to come over and say hi—”

“Cool, hi,” Dream said, cutting you off. He turned, looking at you properly now. “You can go, now.”

You looked taken aback by his words before your expression shifted into a frown. “What’s gotten into you, Dream? You’re not acting like yourself.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, am I?” He gestured behind you. “I’m just saying you can leave, now. You did what you came to do, right?”

You were appalled. “Why are you acting like this? I just wanted to hang out with you for a bit before we left.”

Didn’t you get it? He was trying to do you a favour. Before he could stop himself, he snapped, “Why don’t you just hang out with ‘Snappitus Nappitus’?” 

A sinking feeling dug itself into his chest at the pang of hurt that shot across your face. But in an instant, it was gone, your expression hardening. His mouth went dry.

“Fine,” you spat, fixing your eyes on him with a glare. “Maybe I will.”

You turned on your heel, stomping away to the other side of the base, inevitably making your way over to Sapnap to complain. Dream’s eyes trailed after you as you walked off, something stinging behind his eyes.

Why did he say that? He shouldn’t have taken his anger out on anyone, let alone you—the one he cherished most.

He felt sick.

“Dream,” a voice said behind him. “I got the dynamite. Ready to go?”

He turned to see George behind him, seated on his horse with a flint and steel in hand. Taking a deep breath, Dream hoisted himself onto his own horse, picking up the reins with a heavy heart.

“Yeah.”

“Big D! What’s the fuck?!”

Dream grimaced under his mask, the string keeping his patience together wearing thinner by the second. 

He and his SMP had been in L’Manberg for no longer than five minutes, and he already wanted to declare war and call it a day. 

“I’ve already presented you with your ultimatum, Tommy.”

Tommy snorted. “Yeah, and it’s a bad one. ‘Give up your land or we’ll light three sticks of dynamite’,” he mocked. He turned to look at Tubbo with a grin. “Tell me that’s not the worst ultimatum you’ve ever fuckin’ heard, Tubbo.”

Tubbo offered a cheerful grin. “It’s a pretty bad ultimatum, yeah.”

Tommy nodded, looking back at Dream with a triumphant smile. “You see, Big D? Your deal sucks. It’s fucking terribl—”

Dream let out a deep sigh. “Tommy, I’m really not in the mood for this.” His form turned toward you for a split second, taking in the sight of your figure next to Sapnap’s before looking back at Tommy. “Let’s just get this over with. What’s your decision?”

The blond blinked at him for a second, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “Oooh, are you having women problems?”

Dream’s grip on his sword stiffened, his fingers twitching. “What,” he said, his tone harsh, “are you talking about it?”

Tommy shrugged. “I’m just saying, you might be having some.” He gestured to himself, smiling pompously. “If you were like me, you wouldn’t have these kinds of problems, because I’m an expert at women.”

The string thinned another fraction. “Sure you are, Tommy.”

Just then, Wilbur spoke up. “Tommy doesn’t know what he’s talking about, ignore him.” His smile mirroring Tommy’s. “But say, Dream,” he drawled, his gaze flickering back and forth between you and him, “do you happen to know the saying ‘green with envy’?”

Dream’s breath hitched. If he said one more wor—

Wilbur narrowed his eyes teasingly. “Because to me, it seems to be you’re covered in green from head to toe—inside and out.”

And the string snapped.

“George,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, “set it off.”

The group looked at him in alarm, their eyes wide as George began, “A-Are you sur—”

“Just set it off!” he shouted, a fury like none other taking over him. How dare Wilbur of all people tease him—taunt him? How dare he? Maybe it was a bad idea, but he was done with negotiating.

It was time.

Without any more questions, Dream watched as George lit three sticks of dynamite, tossing them onto the ground ahead of them. The moment the sticks hit the ground, George yelled, “Go, get out, get out, get out!”

Every member of Dream’s faction turned, rushing for the entrance just as the first explosion rang out. Screams rang out all around him, Tommy cursing incessantly while Fundy screeched. Hidden under his mask, a grin stretched across his face at the sound of destruction. He was a single step away from the exit when Sapnap let out a desperate yell.

“[Y/N]!”

Dream stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. The explosions were still ringing out around him, but what he saw horrified him.

You laid on the ground with an arrow pinned to the train of your satchel, leaving you stuck on the ground. Above you, a chunk of the L’Manberg walls was dangerously close to unlatching itself and falling on you. All it would take was a few more explosions for that section of the wall to come crashing onto you, and Dream knew that they had hidden more than enough TNT under the country to make that happen. 

You were tugging desperately on your satchel, unsheathing your sword to cut yourself loose, but Dream knew there wasn’t enough time.

He didn’t allow himself even a single second to process what was happening—he simply bolted.

In one moment, he was turning to head out of the base. In the next, he was tackling you to the ground, his taller figure shielding yours as he pinned you to the earth below.

“Drea—?” 

The ear-splitting train of explosions cut you off, and Dream felt a surge of white hot pain sear up his back as the chunk of wall slammed into his back. He was vaguely aware of the fact that his armour was cracking. He knew he should have repaired it when he had the chance. 

Just then, his mask slid off his face, landing squarely on your chest. The strap must have snapped, he thought distantly to himself. The ringing in his ears was deafening, and he could just barely make out the sight of you crying out underneath him, your lips forming his name—his real name.

It was a shame he couldn’t hear your voice saying it. He’s sure it would sound lovely.

Then the world went dark.

Something cool brushed over his face, and Dream felt himself being pulled out of unconsciousness.

Where... am I?

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking while then drowsiness seeped out of his eyes. It must be late afternoon, given how warm and light it was. Letting his eyes readjust to the brightness of the day, he took in the sight of the space around him. It only took a few seconds for him to figure out that he was in his room. He recognized those chests, his messy desk, the curtains framing the open window. A breeze must have been what woke him up.

Why am I here?

He thought back in his mind, trying to recall the last memory he had experienced.

The battle. His SMP. L’Manberg. Tommy. Wilbur. Ultimatum. Dynamite.

He grimaced.

Oh. Right. That.

He vaguely wondered if their side had won, but also knew that he was missing something. He could have sworn there was more to the battle than just that. What was it?

He felt a weight pressing down on the bed just next to him. Glancing down, his heart stuttered in his chest at the sight of you sitting in a chair next to him, leaned over and fast asleep on the edge of his bed. The images flashed through his mind.

Taunting. The wall. You. Pain. Heat. Your lips mouthing his name. Darkness.

Ah. He remembered, now.

He shifted slightly, feeling a dull pain shoot up his side. Wincing, he pulled back the covers, looking down. He was wearing a new shirt and sweatpants—clean clothes, thank goodness. Lifting up the hem of his shirt, he grimaced at the sight of the white bandages wrapped around his torso. They definitely extended to his back as well, if he remembered correctly. So that explained the aches. 

Ever so slowly, he wiggled back, ignoring each wave of pain that crashed over his spine when he did so. A few moments later, he had finally brought himself to a sitting position, your head now lying on his lap. Dream smiled fondly down at you, reaching out to stroke your hair. You were beautiful when you were sleeping. Well, you were beautiful all the time, but he digressed. 

He had a million questions swirling around in his head. How long had you been sitting here? Did your back hurt from leaning over for so long? Were still mad at him?

He really hoped you weren’t.

Just then, you reached a hand to rub at your eyes, letting out a soft noise as you began to wake up. Dream’s hand immediately darted back to his side, and he watched intently as you brought yourself back to a sitting position. You let out a quiet groan as you cracked your back. It was only then that you fully opened your eye. He could practically see the recognition set in your eyes as you took in where you were before you whirled, jaw dropped as you stared at him.

“Um,” he began, suddenly feeling shy, “hey there.”

You continued to gape at him, eyes wide. “You’re awake,” you blurted.

His lips quirked. “Sure am.”

You scooted closer to him in your chair, shoulders shaking. “You’re actually awake,” you repeated, almost in disbelief.

Dream nodded, amused. “Yep. You already said that.”

All of sudden, you moved forward, climbing onto the bed so that you were sitting on your knees right beside him. He didn’t have a chance to react before you were leaned into him, weakly smacking his chest with your fists, your shoulders trembling as you did so.

“You’re. So. Stupid!” you wailed, punctuating each word with another light hit. You whipped your head up, glaring at him through your watery eyes. “Why did you do it? Why did you block me from the debris?”

Dream averted his gaze from yours, his heartbeat picking up from how close you were to his. He could only hope you couldn’t feel it through your hands. “I wake up and one of the first things you tell me is that I’m stupid?” he said, trying to avoid the topic at hand. “What a warm welcome back.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. “Don’t change the subject, Dream. Answer the question.” Your gaze narrowed. “Why did you do it?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I—I didn’t even think about it,” he admittedly truthfully. “I just moved without thinking.”

You stared at him, your brows furrowing. “But why? You should have been worried about yourself first.”

Dream blinked down at you, feeling his heart beat against his rib cage wildly. He was almost positive you could feel it. 

Then it hit him, the realization sinking into his mind as clear as day.

It was now or never.

He took a deep breath, reaching up to hold your hand in his. He watched something in your gaze melt, but the question remained in your eyes.

Luckily for you, he had an answer.

“I like you,” he said. “That’s why.”

You stared at him, stunned. He felt anxiety lump in his throat.

“You do?”

He swallowed it back down.

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then you began to cry.

Almost instantaneously, Dream began to panic. “H-Hey,” he said gently, wrapping his arms around you carefully, “why are you crying? Did I say something wrong? I, uh—” He gulped. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know you like Sapnap.”

Now, it was your turn to be confused. Sniffling, you wiped at your eyes. “Wh—” Hiccup. “W-What are you talking about? I don’t—I don’t like Sapnap.”

He wrinkled his brow at you. “Sure you do,” he said. “You’ve basically been all over him lately. That practically screams, ‘I love Sapnap’.”

You stared at him, your tears reduced to stained cheeks now and a slightly sniffling nose. “Sapnap and I are best friends,” you said, frowning.

He nodded. “Yeah. And you like him.”

Your frowned deepened. “No, that’s—” You stopped, and he watched as the gears turned in your head, being able to pinpoint the exact moment they clicked together. 

“Dream,” you said slowly. “You think that I—” You pointed to yourself. “—like Sapnap?”

He cocked his head. “I mean, don’t you?”

You stared at him for a moment longer. “Dream,” you said again, “when you jumped in front of me, I was absolutely terrified. I didn’t know what was going on, and I only remember screaming before you just blacked out on me. We won and L’Manberg surrendered, but George had to help me carry you back. You were out for two days.”

He cringed at your words. It was good that you had won, but two days was a long time to be unconscious. He must have missed so much. 

“During those two days, Dream,” you continued, “I practically didn’t leave that chair.” You pointed to the chair you had been sitting on just moments prior. “Sapnap had to drag me down to eat, and I still slept here, as you already saw.”

He gaped, absolutely shocked. You stayed by his side? For two straight days? For him?

He must have said that out loud without thinking, because you nodded and pursed your lips. “Dream,” you said, “do you know what that means?”

He blinked at you. “I don’t see how this has anything to do with you liking Sapnap.”

You let out a groan, hanging your head in your hands. “How are you this dense?” you muttered, your cheeks flushing pink. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

He didn’t think he could be anymore confused. “Say what?”

Lifting your head, your eyes met his, your cheeks burning with heat and hands shaking. “That I like you, and not Sapnap.”

Dream froze, his brain short-circuiting in his head.

You liked him.

You liked him back.

A grin spread across his face. This was possibly the greatest day of his life.

Without wasting another minute, he pulled you into his arms, practically crushing you to his chest. You squeaked at the sudden movement, your heart swelling in your chest at the sudden display of affection. “Huh—”

“Thank god,” he murmured in your ear, his voice soaked in relief. “I genuinely thought that you were going to reject me.”

You wrapped your arms around him, careful to be gentle with his back, and smiled into his shoulder. “I thought I was being obvious, but I guess you’re just really stupid.”

Dream sighed, dizzy with affection and something that felt like love.

“Yeah, I am.”

Dream let out a yawn as he walked into the living room. “Good morning,” he said, eyes darting around the room. “Has anyone seen my—”

He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes landed on you. On the other side of the room, you were curled into the couch like you almost always were in the morning. But this time, you were wearing a green hoodie. His green hoodie.

His heart melted at the sight.

He didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore beautiful, yet here you were, destroying all of his expectations. You never ceased to amaze him with just how wondrous you were.

He sighed, striding to the other side of the room and settling in next to you on the couch. “Never mind,” he murmured, leaning in close to nuzzle his face next to yours. “I found it.”

You giggled at his touch, pushing his face away from you. “Ugh, you’re so cheesy.”

He rolled his eyes at you, grinning. “Don’t act like you don’t eat it up.”

You huffed, turning away from him. “I’m not saying anything.”

Sapnap walked in while Dream laughed at your expression, a glass of milk in hand. “Morning,” he greeted, sitting down on the couch opposite of you two. He spared a single glance in your direction before asking, “Are you two being gross, again?”

Dream‘s grin widened. “You know it.”

Sapnap gagged as Dream leaned in close to your face, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Ewww.”

Turning to face your boyfriend, you pressed a hand to his cheek and cooed. “Clay.” He leaned into your touch, his lips curling. He was right. His name did sound lovely on your lips,

You returned his smile with one of your own, moving your hand away from his cheek and towards his hairline. 

All of a sudden, you flicked his forehead, pain shooting through his skull as he jumped.

“Ow!” he yelped, wincing at the slight sting of your nail against his skin. He rubbed at the red skin, glaring at you. “Why’d you do that?”

You smiled sweetly at him, but he could see your eyes glint devilishly. “Because you’re an idiot for not realizing I liked you sooner.”

From the other side of the room, Sapnap let out a cackle, pointing at Dream. “Suck it, green boy!”

Dream’s brow twitched and a dark grin crossed his face as he stood up, cracking his knuckles. “Oh, Sapnap—”

Let’s just say that Sapnap needed more than a few ice packs, that day.

#mcyt #dream mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt fandom #mcyt scenario #mcyt imagine #mcyt fanfic #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #dreamwastaken #dream #dream team #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader #dream imagines #dream scenario #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken scenario #dream smp #dream fluff #dream angst #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken angst #dream fanfic #dreamwastaken fanfic #sapnap #sapnap x reader #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x reader

[shurisneakers]

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time).  big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights​ for this specific imagery 

Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado. 

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right. 

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch. 

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation. 

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song. 

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.  

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries. 

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

__

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons. 

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him. 

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough. 

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second. 

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?” 

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red. 

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles. 

A small smirk makes its way onto your face. 

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there. 

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them. 

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground. 

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder. 

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats. 

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand. 

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.  

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under. 

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place.  He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it. 

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt. 

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then. 

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower. 

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place. 

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them. 

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.” 

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine. 

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack. 

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door. 

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind. 

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel. 

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited. 

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist. 

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest. 

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.” 

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment. 

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind. 

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.” 

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing. 

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly. 

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this. 

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[whattheflameo]

Lin healing the bonds with her family hc?

Ohhhhhhhhhh anon you have opened up a WHOLE can of worms I have extremely strong feelings on this topic and most of them can be summed up with Lin Beifong is the Epitome of the older sibling parent trope. RANT INCOMING

Lin choosing to forgive Suyin has almost nothing to do with Suyin’s “apology” (or lack thereof). It occurs solely because Lin actively decides to be the better person in their relationship. She decides that having her sister and her niblings in her life is worth more to her than her grudge and her hurt. Which is saying something, because damn can Lin hold a grudge.

Su isn’t going to apologize; its not in her nature at all. She genuinely doesn’t recognize the need for apologies in anything. She doesn’t give them and never expects them from others. Lin knows this and decides to move on anyway.

Su did write Lin a letter asking her to come talk. Actually, she wrote several. Lin never opened a single one, determined to keep herself from getting hurt again. Its easier, especially when Su isn’t in front of her, to convince herself she doesn’t care.

Despite everything, Lin still hopes the best of her sister. Finding out that she changed her ways after being sent away, stopped with the petty crime and actually made something of herself, built an entire city and raised a pretty great family, comes with a level of relief- even if it wasn’t her to help Su see the error of her ways, at least Su was able to do so.

Lin doesn’t trust Su as far as she could throw her, especially after Su lies to her face to send Korra after Aiwei. She doesn’t trust Su to choose her to save over literally anyone else, and to be honest she has the older sibling complex that she just doesn’t have as much faith in Su’s bending skills as her own. That’s why her “I love you,” before drawing P’li’s fire sounds so much like a goodbye.

Speaking of differences in skill level, that fight between Lin and Su? Buckle your seatbelts motherfuckers I have THOUGHTS. Yes, its one of the most badass fights in the entire series, imo, but I’m gonna be real here. Su was winning. She had Lin on the defensive almost the whole time. But Lin was also at about 40% health- run down, emotionally strained, off-kilter from acupuncture treatment (which I agree with @dont-blame-it-on-the-kids was DEFINITELY not in Lin’s best interest that doctor was 100% paid off by the red lotus), and Su is taking advantage of it. If Lin had been at 100%, even like 60%, she would have WIPED THE FLOOR with Su and Su’s dancy-ass bending style. But she still held her own, even though she was literally breaths from passing the fuck out. Did you SEE some of those hits? There’s one in particular where Su hits her in the gut with a rock mid-air that physically couldn’t not have broken several of her ribs. Su’s behavior in this fight absolutely incenses me like how dare she fucking do that I JUST

All this being said I do really love Su as a character I promise.

Su’s base character hasn’t changed, but after going through the Red Lotus and Kuvira together, Lin does recognize that she’s changed in some important ways. She’s still self-oriented, but she’s not the selfish, bratty teen she was when she scarred Lin for life.

Likewise, after seeing the permanence of Lin’s scars and spending more time with her sister, Su realizes that she’s really hurt Lin. She sees how terrible she’s been to this woman who is willing to give her own life to protect everyone around her, Su especially, and actively tries to make up for it. Like I said, she doesn’t apologize with words, but tries to prove to Lin through her actions that she is going to be there for her. And the fact that Lin’s arm flickers toward her weapons whenever Su loses her temper? Su is so disgusted with herself over it that she nearly throws up the first time she thinks about it.

They’re not best friends, but they do become close. Both of their personalities mellow out with age, and they’re more understanding of each other. Su becomes someone Lin is able to talk to about some personal things, if not the extremely deep stuff. They have wine nights and Su sometimes sleeps over if she gets too tipsy. They both act a lot younger with each other, and Su is one of the only people who can snuggle up to Lin and get away with it.

Unless one of them is actively concealing their emotions (its usually Lin), they can read each other like an open book.

Lin remembers all of Su’s favorite foods and colors and activities and songs from childhood. Su realizes that she hardly remembers any of Lin’s and has a guilty meltdown to Bataar over it. He suggests that she pay really close attention to remember them now, and Su makes it her personal mission. 

Despite having confronted her feelings of abandonment by Toph ages ago, Su can see that Lin not only feels abandoned but also feels like she’s the one who let their mother down, that the break in their relationship is her fault, not Su’s or Toph’s. She knows how glad she was to have Toph back in her life, even if inconsistently, and sees how much Lin wants their mother’s approval and marches into the swamp (and that’s saying something for Su, who isn’t exactly fond of gross swampy things) and drags Toph out to force her to some of Lin’s award ceremonies or other events, including her wedding to Kya. Lin doesn’t know it was Su’s doing.

“Mother Lin may have said she doesn’t hate you but she deserves more from you and spirits help me you are going to say the words “I am so proud of you” to her or I WILL tell Wing and Wei where to find you-”

Basically, Su’s main apology to Lin for all the years of pain and hurt she’s caused is to kick Toph’s ass into repairing at least some of their relationship. Its the most truly selfless thing she’s done in possibly her entire life, because she never tells Lin.

To be clear: NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF LIN HAD NOT ACTIVELY CHOSEN TO SET ASIDE HER PRIDE AND HURT AND FORGIVE HER SISTER. LIN WAS THE CATALYST- SU WOULD NOT HAVE PUT IN WORK TO EARN HER FORGIVENESS IF LIN HADN’T GIVEN IT TO START WITH. Su’s behavior in Zaofu was utter bullshit, it was not worthy of Lin’s forgiveness. She literally showed up and immediately drove a wedge between Lin and some of the most important people in her life, said horribly mean things to Lin, and used Lin’s illness as an advantage to beat the shit out of her. But Lin, strong, selfless, badass, incredible Lin who is so much more empathetic than anyone in that show gives her credit for, looks at all of that and forgives Su anyway. Its not unconditional, like I said the level of trust isn’t bone deep, but she does the legwork. And you know what, Lin deserves to have family that cares about her in her life. Her niblings adore her, and she eventually believes that Su is genuinely there for her. I will die on this hill.

I know this probably came across as incredibly disorganized and rambly. I’ll talk more about Lin’s relationship with the metal clan kids and/or Toph in another post because I recognize that I’ve gone down a fuckin rabbit hole but I have extremely strong opinions on Lin’s relationship with her sister.

#asks #lin beifong #suyin beifong #thats our lin #but shes a Cool Matriarch™️ #do I have a little sister who reminds me of Su to a fuckin T? #am I projecting our relationship onto theirs? #oh most definitely #would I forgive her for just about anything if I saw she had made something of her life and was trying to do better? #yea #should i have to? #no #should lin have had to forgive su? #nope #lin is the ultimate Older Sibling as a Parent trope #she would do just about anything for su #I have SO MANY WORDS ON THIS OK #THIS DOESNT EVEN SCRATCH THE SURFACE #god sorry I super went off

[prettyboyporter]

Hiya. I’m the anon who sent you that prompt, perhaps the prompt can still remain the same but when Max calls Steve, it’s because Billy left to find a demo dog on his own or something and succeeded but got hurt in the process, which could lead to the confession and hurt/comfort soft. Would that work?

Hey! Okay -- I ended up changing it up a little bit lol -- I hope you still like it!!! 

~*~

Steve was putting away the harvest-colored hand me down Tupperware that Mrs. Henderson had given him for his new apartment.  He was making progress -- almost to the bottom of the box marked kitchen when he heard crackling coming from the sound of the bedroom down the hall. 

He dashed the four steps down the hall to the bedroom, located the box where the crackling was coming from, and dug to the bottom to find the walkie. 

“Steve, this is Max. I don’t have your new phone number yet. Come in. Max to Steve.”

He fumbled it, cursed, and righted it in his hands. “What’s up Max?” 

“Hey. I need your help. Billy thought he heard something in the woods and went out there by himself. I tried to stop him but he was all fuck off Max I can handle this. Ugh. Can you, like, come and help him?” 

Billy had only been out of the hospital for two goddamn weeks, still wrapped in bandages and unsteady on his feet still and trying to go confront whatever might be out there was the dumbest fucking thing Billy could be doing right now. 

Steve had visited him every day during his hospital stay, helping to keep him entertained. Mostly Billy seemed to enjoy the fact that Steve smuggled him smokes, but when Steve started visiting Billy at home, Billy touched Steve’s shoulder and let his hand linger. “Thanks man,” he said. His hand squeezed. He he glanced down at his shoes -- he seemed goddamn shy all of a sudden. He blushed -- and then he kissed Steve’s cheek. “For everything.” 

That moment had replayed in Steve’s mind about 900 times since then and he had a moment where he spiraled and imaged what kissing Billy would feel like -- what getting heated with Billy would feel like. He stroked himself teasingly, taking his time and letting his imagination run wild, and stayed awake all night panicking. He confessed it all to Robin the next day.

They made a plan. There was an entire multi-step strategy planned out but this shit right here -- Billy wandering into the goddamn woods close to midnight with wounds that had yet to heal -- this threw a wrench in his carefully executed next step. 

Steve drove down to Cherry Lane, grabbed his flashlight and bat, and headed for the dark line of trees standing sentinel at the roads’s edge. 

He swung his flashlight around, calling, “Billy!” as quietly as he could manage. 

A few frustrating minutes passed where he thought maybe he wouldn’t find Billy -- and then the light from his flashlight hit a denim jacket. 

Billy was leaning with his back against a tree trunk, face buried in the palms of his hands. 

“Billy, jesus christ are you hurt?” Steve scurried up and checked Billy from head to toe, looking for any possible injury. 

“Nah. I’m fine, man,” Billy said. His voice sounded strained from behind his hands though. 

And when Billy lowered his hands, his eyes and nose were red and his nose a was a little snotty. 

“Listen I know I have a reputation of being this kinda dumb guy but I’m gonna go ahead and say you don’t look fine.” Steve stepped closer. 

Billy huffed a laugh. “I just got a little freaked out. I heard a big crack somewhere in the woods and freaked out, yknow? Like all I could think about was that fuckin thing that got in my mind. I came out here ready to fuck shit up. I wanted to kick some alternate universe ass. And here it is. The big bad monster.” He kicked a large branch by his foot, edges jagged, lying where it had apparently snapped and fallen off. 

Steve gestured toward Billy’s shirt, made lumpy with all the bandages under it. “Honestly -- you’d probably just injure yourself. You’re, like, nowhere near ready to fight these things. I’ve done it, Bills. They’re no joke.” He stepped up closer -- right into Billy’s space, and risked putting his hand on Billy’s arm, squeezing once before sliding it up. “Next time call me. Okay? Call me, or call Hopper. We’ll help you. You absolutely wouldn’t be able to handle this shit on your own.” 

Billy smiled and glanced up at Steve. “I just -- I want it to understand what it did to me. If I could dish that pain right back, turn the tables and fuck it up like it fucked me up? I would.” 

Steve tugged Billy into a loose hug, and Billy reached foward to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist. “I know, Billy. Trust me when I say I’d help you do it. But call me first. I don’t want anything happening to you.” His fingers started to play with the curls at the ends of Billy’s hair. 

“No?”

“Nope,” Steve said, and then out of no fucking where, because it felt like the right thing to do, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Billy’s. 

Billy pulled back sharply and Steve’s stomach dropped to his feet. 

Billy’s eyes searched Steve’s face. “Been waiting a year for that, pretty boy,” he said, then stepped foward so hard that Steve had to step back as Billy started kissing Steve. 

Hand in hand they walked back to Billy’s house. Max was sitting on the porch and Steve quickly pulled his hand away, but she just smiled. “Don’t go out there alone again. Asshole,” she said. A smirk formed on her lips. “So. You two are, uh. Together?” Her voice raised on the last word. 

“Fuck off Maxine.”

Steve smiled and regarded the gravel. 

“Billy and Steve, sittin in a tree.”

“Swear to god, Max.”

“K I S S I-” She was cut short when Billy picked up a few pebbles and chucked them at her. She ran into the house, shrieking and laughing. 

The door closed behind her. Alone again, Steve tugged Billy close and spent a couple minutes taking it slow -- running his lips teasingly along Billy’s before Billly stepped back. “I better go inside now.” 

“Yeah. Uhm. Wanna come over tomorrow? Seven? You can be my first guest. I’ll make us Hamburger Helper.”

“They say a way to a man’s heart-” 

“Hamburger Helper’s not to your heart. I just wanna get in your pants, Billy.” 

Billy smiled. “You think I’m that easy? Hamburger Helper’s gonna get you some dick?” 

“Yep. I do.”

Billy ran up to kiss Steve’s lips once and reached down to squeeze the bulge in his jeans. “You’re fuckin right it will.” 

Steve kissed Billy once more and walked up to his car, turned once to watch Billy wave at the front door. 

On the drive home, he started making a shopping list. A trip to Bradley’s Big Buy in the morning would be in order. 

#harringrove #my fic #my writing #soft times at ridgemont high #soft fic for hard times #Anonymous

[iheardarumorxxx]

Midnight Sun, Chapter 9 - Port Angeles

Right. I remember this chapter from Twilight. I also have heard quite a bit about this chapter. This is gonna be a ride. 

Eddie starts off this chapter saying that he used to be the ‘responsible’ one. I would like to remind everyone that Edward Anthony Masen Cullen spent a few years eating people he percieved to be horrible criminals because he didn’t like animal blood and was being a whiny baby. But go off, Eddie.

SM is still trying to paint Jessica as a rude bitch and I still don’t buy it. It is extremely clear to anyone with eyeballs that Mike has a thing for Bella, and it is pretty obvious that this date he’s going on with Jessica is because Bella said no. So her thoughts come off as insecure. She’s a teenage girl, so I think insecure is a pretty standard thing. Not always, but SM has painted these kids as the stereotypical teens, so.

Basically, I still don’t buy the attempt to make Jessica seem evil.

Bella has wandered off to go get that book she wanted, and Eddie is simply freaking out because he let his daughter out of his sight for one minute and she wandered off. He’s about half a second away from considering getting a leash to put on her. Seriously, though, that’s how this reads. A parent frantic because they lost their child in a crowded store or park. We all know she’s gonna get a serious scolding for this one. Maybe even grounded.

a volly of snarls erupted from my throat

Okay, we’re still not to the big rant about vampire instincts in this universe, yet, but I want you guys to remember this for later. It absolutely aides in the point I plan to make there. Also a ‘volly’ of snarls. That sounds so forced and I genuinely laughed out loud when I read it. Anyway, Eddie has found Bella and she is with the Evil Bad Guys Who Have Ill Intentions. 

I would see how he enjoyed the hunt when he was the pray. I would see what he thought of my style of hunting.

Technically a spoiler because it hasn’t happened yet in this book, but not because we’ve seen it in Twilight. Eddie literally does not do anything to this Lanny guy or his friends. He gets out of the car, makes a mean face at them, and then gets back in the car and drives off. Maybe SM has Eddie go back out and hunt them later after he drops Bella off, but that doesn’t fit in with his squeaky clean good boy persona that Daddy Carlisle puts on him, so I doubt it. The scene as we know it comes off as very ‘man, if my girlfriend wasn’t here I’d kick your ass’. Because Eddie is a lot of bloated, puffed up talk.

When SM uses dialogue tags like ‘ordered’ to describe how Eddie says things, it just really hammers home that point I’ve been making about red flags. Even if it’s practical, like him telling Bella to put on a seat belt, especially since Pires bend the will of cars to their inane and idotic physics.

We went on a tangent about one of Eddie’s kills from his Vampire Batman days, and like honestly? I watch a lot of Criminal Minds. I see a lot of this kind of stuff, and it is absolutely awful that people like that exist in the world. I’m not saying that they shouldn’t be stopped. HOWEVER, this idea Eddie has that he was playing a good guy by taking justice into his own hands, I don’t jive with that. Now, I am aware of how faulty the criminal justice system is, especially with victims of sexual assault and domestic violence. I’ve lived that, myself. But if Eddie is so comfortable taking another life, no matter how he tries to justify it, he is no better than the people who he’s deciding to kill for their crimes.

a highly justifiable murder

See, this. This is why I don’t buy that SM’s Cullens are the paragons of good that she is constantly trying to say they are. There is no such thing as a justifiable murder, no matter what. Solving heinous acts with heinous acts simply perpetuates a cycle of heinous acts. 

I wasn’t giving her a chance to say no.

This is a trend that will continue throughout the entire series. I will point you to all of the times that Edward never gave Bella a choice in a matter, including leaving her in New Moon, and DISMANTLING HER CAR ENGINE IN ECLIPSE SO THAT SHE COULDN’T GO SEE HER FRIEND. That one in particular rubs me the wrong way for reasons, but we won’t do that here. Just know that Edward never actually lets Bella make a choice in this series, and even when he pretends to, he does everything in his power to make the outcome go his way.

And now we’re at the restaruant. I’ve heard some stuff about this scene and god, can I not WAIT, but for now, let’s just talk about the one off waitress character. She is clearly only here to be a rival to Bella for this scene. Brief, unimportant, underdeveloped. And honestly? One off characters don’t actually need that development, not really, but what I can’t stand about this one is that she is literally only here, both in this book and in Twilight, so that SM can puff up how clearly Bella is so much better than she is. Because, you see, Eddie doesn’t find the pretty hostess attractive, he only has eyes for Bella. Her entire point is so that Edward can look at Bella, and therefore, the audience as Bella is their SI for this world, and go on about how much better and prettier and more perfect she is than this woman. It’s just gross.

“Do I dazzle you?”

This is still, in my personal opinion, the best and most iconic line in a series full of iconic lines. Eddie the Dazzle Machine. Charming the pants off people when he’s trying to scare the shit out of them. It’s hilarious, and so fuckin’ romance novel cliche, and I love it.

This restaurant is apparently a real place in the real Port Angeles. And from what I understand, at least when the Twilight craze was in full swing back in 2008, they got a lot of extra business and a lot more people ordering the mushroom ravioli. Even put something about Twilight on their menu. Good for them, taking advantage of that free marketing. I have never been to Port Angeles, and am allergic to mushrooms, so I can’t say I’ve experienced the dish, but if any of you have, please let me know if it’s worth the hype.

Its so funny that right now, Eddie is worried about Bella being cold and going into shock, while Bella is over there huffing the fumes off his jacket like it’s a paint can, and he can’t even tell that that’s what she’s doing. The girl is doing everything short of just shoving her whole face in it and inhaling, but he’s too thick to get it. 

And here we are folks. The meat and potatoes of this chapter. The big comparison. The reason the cover has a pomegranete on it. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen has the absolute GALL to compare Bella, the boring, walking video game avatar to Persephone. Lets break down Persephone for a second here. There’s a lot to break down, but let’s stick to the basics, for fear that this rant gets wickedly out of hand before I can stop it. Persephone radiates optimism and hope. Persephone is soft, sweet, but has a temper that could kill a man. Persephone is sympathetic. When in the ever loving FUCK has Isabella Swan ever shown any of those characteristics? She is NEVER optimistic about anything. She fucking exists in a constant cloud of negative thought and assuming the worst. She isn’t hopeful about ANYTHING, not even her future with her PRECIOUS Eddie because she’s always questioning his intentions and feelings for her. She is not sympathetic in the slightest, no matter what SM tries to shove down my throat. She treats her friends like shit, she manipulates and lies her way through conversations so she doesn’t have to deal with them, she compares Mike to a FUCKING DOG. Bella is not comparable to Persephone, and it’s fucking beyond ham-fisted, it’s fucking EGREGIOUS to try to make that comparison. 

I could see more of an argument for comparing Eddie to Hades, since, ya know, Hades fucking stole Persephone to be his wife and most stories about Hades paint him as kind of a moody, brooding dickbag, but I’m still calling fucking foul on this attempt at comparison, SM. No dice.

Moving on.

Eddie describing Bella’s skin as ‘velvety’ gives me war flashbacks to those grocery store checkout novels with Fabio on the cover that my mom used to read. Eghhh.

So, Bella touches Eddie’s hand and it’s described in a way that gives me very G-rated sex vibes. Which just makes me wanna tell them to get a room because they’re in public right now, and also don’t do that in front of Bella’s salad ravioli.

Eddie is still being super controling and weird about Bella eating, and honestly, I super wish that Bella had had the good sense to get the hell out of there with Jess and Angela. Or that she would have the good sense now to excuse herself, find someone on staff, ask to borrow a phone, and call her dad. Because this guy is literally throwing out every red flag that exists. I know I say this a lot, but if Bella were a normal girl, she would not be charmed by this guy, she would be freaking creeped out and trying to get away from him. He isn’t even subtle about his creep factor or charming enough to play it off.

Edward thinking he has any edge at all is like white bread thinking it’s the right kind of bread for a hamburger.

Anyway, chapter ends with Eddie paying the bill and the pair getting in the car to head home. And the drama chord of the last sentence that’s supposed to play in your head when you read it falls flat. They’re on the way back to Forks and Eddie is chomping at the bit to hear Bella’s latest theory that we know from Twilight isn’t actually a theory so much as she heard a story from Jacob and then did some searching on some shitty Angelfire website. Or Geocities. Either way. And then she just went ahead and had a big old prophetic dream about it. 

Next time, we get the awkward car ride home and more. Thanks for hanging around guys. As always, feel free to message me (though, please note to anyone who has sent me anon messages that are rude or angry because I’m making fun of this book, I’m gonna ignore you.), recommend what books I should put on my list for my next recap series, and feel free to buy me a snack using the CashApp tag in my bio.

See you next time, babes.

#sierra recaps stuff #midnight sun #midnight sun spoilers #midnight sun recap #twilight #ms chapter 9

[determined-magi]

"Thannor." The new voice is sickly sweet. "I got a question for ya. Why's it that you let that BEAST of a child anywhere near you? You know nothing about him, not truly, words aside. Can you trust what a pathological liar tells you? He could be lying, he could be trying to get into your good side and betray you. He's a liar, a thief, and a traitor to his people. Why would he be loyal to a group of MAGES who remind him of everything he was trying to escape for gods know how long?"

“ Ye think fer a second it hadn’t gone through my mind? Ye wants to rile me up, good job, but not gonna work the way you want it to, ye shite. And bare with me I’m gonna tell ye why and ye’s gonna be stuck on this long ass rant, and then I will fuckin cut that tounge and throat of yers, and ye’s not going to have a say on it. ”

“ One of very few get us. And ironically this “beast of a child” has managed to treat us, or feing to treat us, more humanely than a lot of humans on our own kindgom. Of course it feels too fucking good, because we’ve got many on our kingdom that do this already, and speak of us the same way you speak of him. “ He lets a low, rumbling growl from his troat. If the anon could hear it, he would hear the already hissing magic growing rather agitated behind the mage’s back. Like an animal who has had their territory crossed, tail snapping to its sides, ears pinned back and bearing fangs as a warning. “ Why ye think I snapped at him as a fuckin lion? ‘Course I don’t trust ‘im wholy. Hell, I am terrified. How well has it gone to ours with trusting others that hadn’t aged nor grew arounds us? “

“ Agar has been cut, burn and hurt many times in thirty years, he’s got the body scars of an old veteran, in about THIRTY YEARS, the amount of scars he’s got should be on a war mage of about Braigon’s age, not him. Gilrin has been used by the fucking council and their dogs for years, Thanneth taken advantage of and granted, fucking Belle, for fuck’s sake! ‘is own kingdom, ‘is own family, they all shunned him like they shun us. Captains had demoted Braigon in his younger days to escape a scold, and Rho? He’s sent people he thought as friends to jail for it, not one, twice or thrice, let me tell ye. “ Hands claw at his face, frustrated, then at his neck as if he wanted to tear off his own bones and throat. Before punching a nearby object, it hurts, but it is better to take it off at something than just keep the feeling there, anything to let off the sensation that kept  torturing him when made aware of it. “ And ‘ol me? Had people pretend things only to snap at me, fuckin outraged because I did not give them their due, time and time again. And when I express myself like I fuckin want? I get knocked, punished and spoken like if I was a rabid, mindless, bloodthristy animal. Then said my feral behavior has no place on their civilized society. Of fuckin course I’m going to be wary to some extent, of course it will feel too damn good to have someone like him around to be real. “

“ Sometimes I wish I had chosen to kick him out then, it would make life way easier. “ He then simply sits on the ground, face burrying on his hands as he lets one of the longest groans he’s ever had. “ Wouldn’t have to deal with this, stagnancy was far easier. I wouldn’t have to fear change, I wouldn’t have to doubt as many things as I do now, I wouldn’t feel like I was about to jump from the edge to the abyss in a blind leap of faith. I wouldn’t have to allways have the nagging feel in the back of my mind that there is something off, then be torn between trying to stop that feel, and stop what causes it. But then I would be again a miserable fool, with greats amounts of money, and little self-fullfillment found in life other than the few people and things he enjoys only in the smallest of dosis, stagnant an’ likely bound to suffer worse ‘cause he’s clearly in the wrong somewhere in there, which only now I’m coming to fuckin see. I ‘ave someone more than to an extent my magic isn’t allways upset around with, which is a big breather, let me tell ye. “

“ Of course not knowing anything is terrifying, when trust is given, they can use what they know against ye, ye? Ye don’t have anything, ye’r left helpless and the only thing ye’s got is a bite and bark, while they have a whole arsenal. ‘Course part of me would instinctually show distrust when experiencing on an unknow situation, outside of my own comfort zone, and while feeling exposed… so ‘course I don’t trust him, not entirely… “

“ Which ye know what? It thoroughly sucks! The one thing that feels good also doesn’t feel so! It is fuckin rediculous. I want to improve, and I want to go further on in my own self-development. “ He wants to pull his hair off, but doesn’t instead he just just stands again, then moves to hit his head against a wall. He seems clearly distressed somewhere in the mess of emotions he’s showing currently. “ But the worst of it? I find myself wanting to believe it, I want to believe what feels like a thorough lie and danger to be good, That’s change isn’t too good to be true. That who I hired ‘s in fact the person I hired, that ‘ey  ‘re a kid that did not come to my damn shop with ulterior motives, someone that, while problematic on some areas, is still a good kid just stumbling to my workplace in some way. And he in fact means well, and that I can grow fond of ‘im and trust him as a friend and dear apprentice, alike Gil does with her own students as if some were to her children. “

“ And ye know? Ye’s right on that last part, we are the least probable people for him to trust, the least rightfull! “ He moves away to start punching the object, barehanded, the alloy imbedded on his skin re-opening wounds and quickly painting it red, it hurts a lot, but does he care either? Not really, he needs an outting, something help him vent it off, something to take it on, something to exhaust him, in every concievable way. Which sadly to him doesn’t work very well, as soon enough he finds himself left with it being a useless mess. “ I can’t for shite understand why he’s here, why he’s stuck so long, and what could be the reasoning to want to do this, and that upsets me, but unlike some shites here, I.am.not.prying… “

“ And ye, we shouldn’t trust it. But ye know what? ” He growls again. He wishes to trust him, but… he won’t. Never blindly. Trust was a two way, and so long as one was closed, it wouldn’t be truly that, it could never be that. Will, however, be patient, await for it to show. and if not? Well, over time it shall show. The thought feels… bittersad-painfull, to him. “ What we do, what I do, won’t be chosen by a piece of shite like ye. I won’t pry the reasons behind, not like ye fuckin shites do to rile people up. Whatever reasons he’s got, are his. And ye know fucking what too? I changed my mind. ”

He moves in towards to grab the anon, before grabbing what he believes to be a sternum-like structure. Fingers burrying deep into the person’s flesh. Then he pulls, taking a good chunk of flesh, connective tissue and probably organs with it, leaving a bloodly mess behind and staining his clothes. then moves of to rip the person’s throat and cervical spine-like structure. He wasn’t going to let the person go away, no, he riled him up, ruined his day, touched matters he shouldn’t, knew things he shouldn’t. And he certainly wouldn’t let them have the chance to use what he’s just said, there is only six persons he will confide in this like this, and this fool wasn’t one of them.

And what that meant? Death, flat as that in his mind.

He stands there for a moment, before dropping the chunck he was gripping and letting the most frustrated of groans, followed soon by a growl. Oh, they fucking riled him and it ended with him killing someone. Look at his clothes! They are a mess, his nerves are a mess, the ground’s a mess, and everyone’s going to scold them on it. And he fucking hurt his hands AGAIN while on it.

Got fucking damn it, he hates getting riled up over things like these.

Sometimes he wishes he didn’t feel anything.

@cosmosfated

#cosmosfated #mention #|ic| #|bravery in the lines| #|carpe fatum| #[Thannor's got some fuckin issues #some really serious issues and boy did a great part of it hurt me inside a little] #Anonymous #|event|

[harcove]

✨🌸Spring is coming🌸✨ Go out on cute lil dates with your mutuals. Tag one for each and tell them why you chose them. (coffee date, concert date, hiking date, amusement park date, picnic date, gaming night, and a night where you only watch kazoodipity on repeat)(u fucking kno who dis is, hoe)

askldjdlfijdfjlkg ilysm- also @ the other anon who sent this- I’m not ignoring ur ask! I’m just going to tie it into this one since the dates are the same- except for that kazoodipity one. Thnx delia. (I’d do all these with u bb-)

This was kinda hard for me to pick… But here is what I hath cometh up with:

coffee date: @majinstic; a whole doll, and so very fun to talk to. And I love them so much??? And just, I can imagine how calming and relaxing it would be to go to a coffee shop with Dove, and just talking and stuff, and just I’m so full of love for Dove? It would just be so good, and we might get kicked outta the cafe cause I’m a loud ass bitch- anyway. Also, @ba5eline; i love andrea so m  u   c h and just going to a fuckin coffee shop would be bomb, but also lets be honest, we’re also gonna get kicked out, OR, Andrea is gonna get the fuck up and leave me behind cause um... I’m surprised she hasn’T JUST TOLD ME TO FUCK OFF YET TBH I ANNOY HER SO MUCH IS2G

concert date: @religion-agustd. I love Mari so fuckin much, and tbh I’d take her on any date so- BUT imagine Mari at a concert? Imagine Mari AND me at a concert? That would be a fucking mess, but also fun. Really fun. But also I’m bad in big crowds and Mari is like the big sister.tm to me, even tho I talk about drugs with her all the time like I do them? And I’d feel safe.tm at a big ass concert with her. She protecc, but she also do crack- (i’M JOKING)

amusement park date: @just-simply-aging and @vernonthebabe (caleb do u realize how long i was like “WHerE IS CaLEb?!?!??” then saw u just changed ur name- smh ilysm but pls) let me like- explain this… Firstly, I don’t know how it would fucking go if we went to the amusement park; BUT, I know I would have so much fun and I love you guys so much and honestly if we just hung out behind a dumpster I’d still have fun I love you both that much? Imagine gettin a whole funnel cake at an amusement park together :,) I’d crey- half cause its a funnel cake- half cause ilysm

picnic date: @tensboss, boi lets go have a picnic and just have fun, and get to know one another better. You a cutie, ilysm, lets go, lets do this. I’m hungry, and ily and just pls. Picnic dates are so cute and fun and also relaxing? Let me ruin it by being annoying thnx.

gaming night: for fucking s UR E @saltxsuga. I’d do all these dates with Delia but I can’t just tag her for each one- cause that would just be… ANYWAY, but no literally, me and Delia play games with one another all the time, and just hajkdf she’s my best friend, and if I’m gonna play a video game or smthing, and I want to play with someone else, Delia is always my go to. But just, I’d do everything with her so-

a night where you only watch kazoodipity on repeat: @saltxsuga and @ba5eline. Do I really need to explain that tho?

#Anonymous #tag? #ya lets call this a tag... #tagged #mutuals #friends ^^ #ily all so much thnx #anyway efjlkafdjklad #i have a lot of ppl i'd put in here but akjdf i couldnt do everyone #anywayyyy

[tumblunni]

Hi, I'm the anon who sent the messages about Rotom-Cyrus to TWJ. I wanted to explain myself. There are two books in Rotom's Room: one written by Charon where he says he found out about Rotom "by pure chance." So Charon is involved with Rotom (prob why he has that card) but he isn't the one who met Rotom as a kid. I don't want to spoil exactly what happens in USUM incase you haven't reached that part but it does basically confirm Cyrus is the one who wrote that account.

aaaa that suuuuuckscos literally its fuckin a book signed by charon how was i meant to know that oh the other book right next to it isnt by charon alsoand the trading card has no meaning whatsoeverand we’re just giving more sad backstory to a guy who already had a sad backstory and nope charon has no backstory whatsoever and was just super evil and everyone was right for all these years telling me i’m a jerk for liking this characterand right when basically the same thing just happened with faba seriouslyharmless comedic villain in sun and moon, is shown apparantly redeemed in the postgame, but NOPE now its retconned and he was The Most Evil One and something something lusamine isn’t bad anymore and everything she ever did is now being done by faba in the animecos hey yknow thats what i get for giving the benefit of the doubt to ~ugly people~seriously fuckin everyone hated faba right from when he was first revealed, you had people predicting his ENTIRE PLOT based on just one picture of him and his name and no information whatsoever on his personality. we all just fucking knew what was going to happen because he’s a science man with an ‘ugly’ face and he’s ~flambouyant~and then charon fuckin literally existed to be the ~worse man~ who was added to make cyrus more redeemablethats how he was treated in both mangas. he was made more evil just so cyrus could be redeemed, which was POINTLESS because we all already believed he could be redeemed! and fuck we even all already thought he had cute moments with his pokemon as a kid, geez! there’s a hundred fanarts of that same scenario but with murkrow or zubat or magikarp or houndour or sneasel...just fuckin the pokespe manga wrote a personalityless charon who murdered a child and was outright shown not being friends with rotom and actually hating rotom and getting his ass kicked by rotomand then in DPA we get not only More Evil Charon Who Kills People but also he’s drawn really stupidly over the top scary while everyone else is big eyed shoujo dorks. and our protagonist believes that everyone is redeemable except charon. lets show cyrus committing far more evil acts than charon ever did in the game, lets show him being ooc as fuck and talking about murdering pokemon while surrounded by graves. but THAT IS OKAY and our hero will insist on saying he’s redeemable but NOOOPE charon just fuckin steals some money and has an ugly grandpa face and he gets no such sympathy. he just exists to make you forget that moment of cyrus being ooc double evil. cos we literally retconned that charon was responsible for all cyrus’s evil acts last arc, even though he wasnt even in the fuckin story yetand like now my only damn consolation here is that the character i connected with when i first played the game is AT LEAST NOT THAT EVIL. but all the potential signs of headcanoning him as not evil were all false and i just should have known it. and apparantly its a better and more worthwhile plot to just give sad childhood man another pokemon he knew in his sad childhood, and the thing i thought was Really Cool And Interesting Writing didn’t actually exist. like seriously i was fuckin literally suffering from the same abusive childhood cyrus has in his backstory back when i played dppt and i DO NOT KNOW WHY but i ended up connecting with this stupid grandpa more than him and it saved me in a dark time more than him. back then i was a stupid fuck and i hated cyrus cos i saw myself in him, like i didnt want to admit that i was in an abusive family and i wanted to hate him for daring to want to take revenge against the world that fucked him over. i felt he didnt have the right, like I didnt have the right..so yeah i didnt even fully realise cyrus’s backstory until i replayed the game as an adult, but the one thing that did hit me back then was how unexpected and cool it was to turn our opinion of this jerk grandpa on its head. like i mean whoa! i didnt hate him like everyone else did, i found him pretty funny, but still i wasnt a big fan or anything until i saw that diary entry. like charon does LITERALLY NOTHING in the plot there is no reason they should have added him in a third version, he has no reason to exist unless he was meant to be the guy who introduces rotom’s new forms also added in the game. and it was such a mind blown moment! it doesnt even make him less evil! like “whoa this evil guy used to be a good kid once” could still work even if it WASNT a sign of him having potential redeemability, like it makes him so much more personally evil and horrible if he abandoned his best friend or something. I was so dissappointed you don’t get a boss battle with him, cos i went and caught that rotom and was hyped to defeat him with the pokemon he once betrayed and like there’s NONE OF THAT ANGLE if it was cyrus. it doesnt make rotom any different than any of his other pokemon that he owns right now and we know he already cares about, cos he has a crobat.and it JUST DOESNT MAKE SENSEbecause the journal SOUNDS like charon!they both talk all smart guy style but it felt more formal like how charon talksand like how charon boasts a lot, but the journal has him boasting about his friend instead. it sounds too enthusiastic to be cyrus...and like we already know where cyrus grew up as a kid and it wasnt eterna city. and he doesnt have a secret lab in galactic hq also in eterna city, like charon does. and also he’s not like friggin fifty years old so why would his childhood poke-friend be in a wrecked abandoned house if it was just ten years ago or something. and also why would they give charon this trading card where they draw the 100% evil guy having a vaguely genuine smile on his face and not looking like rotom hates him and he’s got it caged up or anything and also why would the card’s effect be all about friendship and why would they define him as The Rotom Guy and why would they even bother to give a trading card to charon if charon is a pointless character who never did anything important and had no actual relevance to this rotom wifi event except apparantly stealing a bunch of diaries from some other guy who was really responsible for it all. and why would they bother to point out that someone signed the diary if it wasnt the guy who wrote the diary, and also we are not going to sign the diary by the guy who actually wrote it. like if it was meant to be cyrus whey didnt they make it clearer?? nobody could be expected to have figured that out!also why does charon have a second rotom room in silph co in HGSS which timeline wise means he would have had it before DPPT and he’s talking about finding a rotom by chance before he ever found this diary that doesnt really belong to him. like why would he build an entire lab of form machines if he didnt own a rotom yet? how would he know enough to make them actually work for rotom if he never owned a rotom yet?why did nintendo decide to do all this if i wasnt supposed to reach the conclusion that charon had ANYTHING to do with rotom???why didnt they make it fucking clearer. why couldnt i have been saved years of clinging to this stupid ass headcanon and basing a lot of my taste in stories on the whole concept of ‘wow that was so fucking cool how they took a one dimensional looking villain and then turned it on our head with a cool reveal and made me super eager to see future stories with him’ and hey we’re not ever gonna get those and also everyone else was right and i should just give up and agree that ugly looking granddads will always be eviland why the fuck did i somehow link my self worth to such a random ass headcanon for a random ass character like seriously could someone have properly explained cyrus’s plot to me as a kid so i could have had him stop me from committing suicide instead. like seriously if they’d just made cyrus’s grandpa less hard to find and explained the plot more clearly and explained that he was the rotom kid AAAAAAAAARGHand i really didnt fucking need this, usum, right after also people started telling me that lusamine is ~really good~ and her whole child abuse plot is gone now like ha ha ha ha fucking ha lets crush bunni on two damn levelsand what is my fucking luck that this happened to happen right on the same day when i got some stupid ass anon hate and also had a horrible nightmare about my abusive fatherlike seriously dude who sent me this ask im really sorry ive had such an incoherant babbling reply to it, its just been a really bad day for me and like.. im not freaking out because of this minor headcanon being proven wrong, its just like i was already freaking out and having some random irrelevant headcanon bullshit happen right now is REALLY bad timing to push me off the edgehopefully i can calm down and come back and give a more coherant response of like.. why i headcanoned the different thing and why I’m sad its not true, even though i’m happy for you that your personal headcanon did become true instead.but like it sucks to be told ‘nope you’re not allowed to have your favourite character, his one and only personality trait was just a misconception you had’ during such a really bad timing of such an already bad daynintendo could u give us like a sassy science villain gramps who DOES have a redemption plot? or at least a plot that isnt ‘exists to be worse than the main villain’? like seriously why did it happen twice. i was happy at original sun and moon cos it felt like faba as charon but better written but then NOOOOPEjust...god...what.what sort of fuckface up in heaven decided to throw all the bad shit at me today and not at least spread it out across the rest of the week?

#also just a heads up to not play a game called Far From Noise #cos that also contributed heavily to me having this giant breakdown right now #its like two hours of chilled out philosophical discussion about someone who's stuck in a car thats hanging over a cliff #and then the conclusion is that they find a reason to want to live again #AND THEN THE CAR FALLS OFF THE CLIFF #AND THATS JUST THE END #i really hope there's multiple endings or something cos that one made me want to fucking kill myself thanks #what the fuck is fucking wrong with whoever wrote that #A Nonny Mouse #ask

[frostmarris]

For the inheritance thing I would love to read #6 with literally anyone

6.  “you died and left me to repay a bunch of really weird IOUs”

sorry for the wait anon! enjoy some hidasaku!!

EDIT: here’s [ Part Two ] !

The Fine Print - Inheritance

By no means did Sakura feel obligatedto repay the extensive list of bizarre IOU’s her great-great uncle had left her- all meticulously detailed and listed in a journal that Sakura had mistakenfor a cookbook when she’d been going through the old coot’s attic - but, if shewanted to get rid of that damned rune burned onto her palm and the demonhaunting her apartment, it looked like she was shit out of luck until shefinished repaying his debts.

Okay, technically the list hadn’t been explicitly left for her. When Uncle Maseo had passed peacefully inhis sleep earlier that week, her parents had been alerted of what he’d writtenin his ‘will’.

“I plan on outliving everyonebut if I happen to kick the bucket early, tell whoever’s left of blood relationthat they can have what they want out of all my worldly possessions. Except mystuffed rat, the one with the super glued googly eyes. I better be buried withthat or I’m coming back.”

Uncle Maseo had always been an… eccentric fellow. And Sakura hadalways suspected that he’d dabbled a little in black magic but this was ridiculous.

The moment she’d opened that damned book, picking through thedusty, forgotten contents of his attic for somethingworth keeping while she helped clean up, there’d been a flash of light and abrief message on the front page, which appeared just long enough for her totake note of in her sudden stupor.

“This shit’s your problemnow, have fun.”

And then she’d felt a burning sensation in her palm, shrieking inpanic as an odd symbol appeared on her skin. A crack of thunder, the painstopping just as quickly as it had begun, and then an eerie calmness in theair. The message was gone but the rune refused to leave, now looking more likesomeone had drawn on her palm with a permanent marker.

She’d panicked a bit at the discovery, rubbing her hand againsther pants vigorously, before turning her attention to the book in her hand. Sakurahad quickly flipped through the journal, expression turning into one ofconfusion as she read.

·        September 12,1945 – Ken Ito: $35 and a box turtle.

·        August 5, 1942 –Jeremy Smith: One jar of strawberry jam and 12 pounds of sugar.

·��       January ???,1956 – Madame Babineaux: Lock of fox fur, cut with silver scissors and wrappedin velvet.

·        May 24, 2001 -Old Lady With Mulberry-Wood Cane, Met in the Park: Vial of virgin blood and 12new pennies. (Note: Do NOT use human blood, the old hag never specified thesource anyways.)

·        October 13, 1975– Mr. and Mrs. Shuzo Gato: One peach tree sapling.

·        July ???, ??? – FÖRSTNER, that jackass: Claims I owe him two new shirts and bride, willaccept a gecko and AT LEAST $20.

·        April 18, 2007 -Rebecca Ohayashi: Two coconuts and an iguana.

And the list went on, each item more obscure and strange than thelast. The dates were out of order, the names unfamiliar, and the footnotes wereof no help. Through a few extra notes, she at least managed to figure out thatthe lists were of things Uncle Maseo owed,rather than received. 

Some were already crossed out and while that might have beencomforting in theory, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know how he had managedto get ahold of items like “a human kidney” and, unrelated, “threeindex fingers.”

Scratching at her palm, Sakura had shoved the journal back intothe dusty box in the attic and made a hasty retreat. There was no telling whatother creepy things were lurking in the old man’s house and she wasn’t too inclinedto find out. And like hell she waskeeping that weird, probably cursed journal.

Three hours later found her back at her apartment, fresh out of ashower and rubbing hand sanitizer onto that weird symbol still on her palm tono avail. Dressed in pajamas, phone in the crook of her arm, and her hairbundled up in a towel, Sakura made her way into her living room, frustrated tono end but hoping that a movie might calm her down.

Only, she quickly became aware that she wasn’t alone.

Sakura paused in the entryway to her living room, balking at thesight of an unfamiliar man sitting on her couch, all casual and relaxed - as ifhe belonged there.

Silver hair, magenta eyes, pitch black skin covered in bone-whiteskeleton-like tattoos, twisted, ash-greyhorns jutting out of his skull and curving like a ram’s -

And a very familiar journal in his hands.

“The fuckin’ squirrels are gonna be hell to catch,” he saidwithout looking up at her – though he was obviously aware of her presence –before turning a page in the journal. “But, I’ll be more impressed if youactually go through with the grave-robbery.”

Sakura screamed.

He looked a little amused as she scrambled back out of the roomand rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a knife and fumbling with her cellphone.Rushing back to her living room, she found the strange man still on her couch and,trying not to let her hands shake, she brandished both her knife and phone.

“I don’t know who the hell you are or how you got in here but youbetter get the fuck out! I’m callingthe cops!”

His smirk turned into more a sneer and he simply snapped hisfingers, posture still unsettlingly relaxed. Almost instantly there was searingpain in one of her hands as the knife turned red hot and she gave a shriek, amix of pain and surprise, before dropping the blade as it quite literallyburned her. It cooled the moment it hit the ground, resting innocently on hercarpet as she stared down at it. Quickly becoming aware of a distinct emptiness in her other hand, Sakura glancedto it and realized her phone was missing.

Looking back to the intruder, she could only stare in both bafflementand horror as she noticed he was nowholding her phone. She’d only been halfway through dialing the emergency numberwhen it had been magicked out of her hand and, with a smirk, the man turned hercellphone off before tossing it carelessly onto the seat beside him.

Sakura gaped openly, carefully touching her sore fingertips as shesearched for some way to respond.

"Who the hell are you?”

“Hidan.” He replied with a shrug.

She swayed backwards slightly, expression hesitant. She… hadn’tactually expected him to answer.

“Alright… Hidan.”She spoke carefully and glanced around, almost searching for some sort of portalto Hell, because this guy definitelywasn’t human. She took another moment to look over those odd tattoos –which she had a very ample view of due to the fact that he was only dressed ina pair of dark grey pants - and the hornsbefore rubbing her face.

“Why are you here…?”

His expression turnedannoyed and he simply held up the journal, waving it at her.

“That old asshatmanaged to actually get a curse right for once.”

Eyebrows furrowed,Sakura carefully leaned against the doorframe, gaze zeroed in on the book. “UncleMaseo..?”

“Duh.”

Resisting the urge togrit her teeth, she massaged her temples and shot Hidan a glare. “What the hellis going on?”

He made a face ather, snorting before snapping the journal open again, and hunching over slightlyas he squinted at the pages. Running a clawed finger over a page, not hardenough to actually rip the paper, he sneered again before leaning back andkicking his legs up to rest on her coffee table.

“As far as I cantell, I’m stuck here until someone –hint, it’s you, princess – repays the old coot’s debts.”

“E-excuse me?”

Hidan gave heranother annoyed look, ignoring the glare she was shooting his crossed legs onher table, and shook the book at her again.

“Ya dense or somethin’?I’m bound to this damned journal and I’d highly suggest you get your cute assin gear and start paying back these IOUs or this is gonna be one hell of afucking shitty sleepover.”

Ignoring his commentin favor of stomping over and kicking at his legs before snatching the journal,Sakura frowned down at the neat handwriting.

“If you’re… bound to this thing, why don’t you justleave and take it with you? Why the hell do you have to be here?”

A scoff, at whichSakura pursed her lips in distaste.

“Don’t you think Iwould have fuckin’ hit the road already if I could?”

Nearly screaming infrustration, Sakura stomped her way back into the kitchen, vaguely aware ofHidan leisurely rising from the couch and following after her as she rummagedaround in the drawers next to the oven. Finally finding a box of matches, she litone and held it to the journal, teeth gritting as she waited for the pages tocatch before dropping it into her empty sink. Spinning back around, she plantedher hands on her hips and nodded towards the small fire burning behind her.

“There! Problemsolved.”

A little drastic but –

“Think again,princess.”

Hidan sent her a lessthan impressed look and crossed his arms, sneering at her sink. Almostreluctantly, Sakura turned around and looked down in unveiled horror at thejournal, the entirety of the book engulfed in flame but, somehow, perfectly fine.

Making an odd,half-choked sound, Sakura numbly turned on the water faucet, waiting until theflames were extinguished before hesitantly picking the book up. It wasn’t evenwarm – wasn’t even wet – and Sakurasent the demon a rather pleading look over her shoulder.

“What the hell evenis this journal?”

He shrugged andleaned against her stove, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“It’s cursed, obviously.”

“And just what does that have to do with me?!”

Another sneer, thoughthis one seemed more bemused than the last, and he grabbed her wrist, holdingup her hand with the odd symbol marking her palm. Dropping her arm, he turnedhis back to her and jabbed a thumb at the back of his neck. There, just a fewshades lighter than his skin, was an identical rune. An inverted triangleinside a simple circle.

“You’re cursed. That fuckin’ mark is mine.”

“And why am I cursed?”

He spun back aroundand sent her a frustrated look, lip pulled up as he nearly growled inirritation.

“Cause you fuckingopened that damned book!”

Rubbing at her face,Sakura gave a tired sigh and groaned under her breath. ‘This shit’s you’re problem now.’ The journal had said. ‘Have fun.’

Right.

Leaning against hersink, she flipped open the journal and started skimming the pages. From whatshe could see, a majority of the items had already been scratched through. Butthere were still pages of IOUs.

“So,” She finallysaid after a moment, glancing up at Hidan, “I just need to finish paying backthe rest of the stuff on the list and you’ll leave?”

“Probably.”

Resisting the urge toslap him, Sakura grit her teeth and dropped her gaze back down at the pages,eyes narrowing.

“Where the hell am I supposed to get a Fabergeegg?!”

He sent her anothershrug, lips twisted in a smug smirk. “I’m not here to help you, princess. Myjob is to just haunt the shit outta you and make sure you pay back the old man’sdebts. Where and how you get the shit isn’t my problem.”

Sighing, Sakuradropped the book onto her counter and tugged the towel off her head, runningher fingers through her still slightly-damn hair.

“Fine. And stop calling me ‘princess’.”

She missed the way herolled his odd purple eyes at her, silver eyebrow raised. “Well, I don’t knowyour fuckin’ name, now do I, princess?”

Flushing slightly,Sakura draped the towel over her arm and moved to leave the kitchen, grabbingthe book after a second thought.

“Oh, uhm. I’m Sakura.”

She pointedly ignoredhis grin but was aware of Hidan following after her, the light catching andglinting off the curves of his horns.

“Well, Sakura,” He draped an arm over hershoulders, acting much too buddy-buddy for her tastes – which she made apparentby pursing her lips before attempting to squirm out from under his arm. “Where’sthe guest room? I could use a looong, fuckin’ nap.”

She made a face andshoved him off of her, lip curled and the journal clutched to her chest.

“No. You are not a house guest.”

“Then where the fuckam I sleeping?”

Sakura sent a pointedlook at the couch he’d been lounging on earlier and he quickly shot her aglare.

“I could be here formonths – like hell I’m sleeping on yourdamned couch!”

::

Sakura tapped herfoot impatiently, her messenger back slung over her shoulder and a box underone arm as she scrolled through her phone with her free hand. It was a prettynice day out, but she could see storm clouds rolling in from the distance andshe really didn’t want to get stuckin the rain.

“Pizza tonight?” Shecalled over her shoulder, not bothering to glance back at Hidan, who wasleaning against the porch railing of the nice suburban house they were visiting,her gaze still glued to her phone screen.

Arms crossed, thedemon shrugged and flicked a leaf off the black sleeve of his – admittedly,damn nice – suit, looking very out ofplace next to her. His horns, oddly colored skin, and tattoos were hiddenbehind his glamour, silver hair still slicked back and magenta eyes bored as heglanced around his surroundings with distaste. His skin still looked a littlegrey and there was no hiding the rune burned on the back of his neck – her matchingmark still present on her palm – but Sakura was more than relieved that he wasn’trunning around without a shirt.

“Depends,” Hidananswered, absentmindedly picking at his teeth, “You makin’ it from scratch orare we ordering?”

It had been a littleover a month since the demon had first ‘arrived’ and, after the long process ofsorting out which IOUs Sakura would need to handle, scouring Uncle Maseo’shouse for an address book or somethingthat would at least give her a head start on matching names to actual people,she’d finally begun repaying his debts. So far, she’d had pretty decent luckfinding the people on the list and delivering the items Uncle Maseo had owed,with Hidan as a near constant companion.

Eyebrow quirked,Sakura looked back at him, locking her phone and slipping it into her pocket.

“Last time I attemptedmaking one from scratch, you tried to add a bunch of toppings from literal Hell.”

Hidan made a face,snorting at her response.

���Pickled bat wingsare fucking delicious.”

She was just about toreply, fully prepared to shoot down all of his disgusting suggestions, when the door finally opened and Sakuraquickly turned her attention forward once more.

Standing in thedoorway was a young woman, who regarded them with unveiled – albeit ratherannoyed - curiosity, her gaze darting from the pleasantly smiling pinkette tothe sour-looking man leaning against the wooden railing.

“That’s them, Mama.”The little boy clutching her leg – he’d been the one to first answer the doorbefore quickly rushing off to find his mother at Sakura’s beckoning – murmured shyly,half hiding behind the woman.

“May I help you..?”

Sakura put on hermost charming smile, shifting her hold on the box under her arm.

“Yes, good afternoon.My name is Sakura – is this Miguel Sorrentino’s residence?”

The woman’s eyebrows furrowedslightly and she shooed the boy away, crossing her arms as she regarded the twostrangers on her porch.

“Yes.”

Sakura’s smilewidened – check! – and nodded in thanks.

“May I speak withhim?”

“You’re about threemonths too late.” The woman deadpanned.

“O-oh?”

“He passed away inJanuary.”

Sakura blinked,taking in this information. She heard Hidan straighten behind her and quicklyoffered her hurried condolences to the woman before glancing back at him – theyhadn’t faced a roadblock like this one yet.

“Now what?” Shehissed at the demon, the other woman watching them with growing suspicion. “AmI expected to break into a cemetery or something?”

Hidan rubbed the backof his neck before shrugging, lips twisted in a confused grimace.

“How the hell shouldI know? Next of kin should be fine…? Maybe?”

Sakura quicklysnapped her attention back to the frowning woman, her smile more awkward thancharming now.

“You wouldn’t happento be rela-”

“I’m his granddaughter.”She interrupted with another deadpan, lips pursed and expression rather exasperated.

“Excellent! This isfor you, from Maseo Haruno.” Shoving the box into the woman’s arms, Sakura gavea quick bow and pulled a weathered journal out of her bag, quickly flipping itopen to a page towards the middle. While the other woman fumbled with the boxin surprise, Sakura grinned as she watched ‘December20, 1987 - Miguel Sorrentino’ magicallycross itself out.

“Perfect! Thanks somuch, ma’am!”

The woman sent thepair a bewildered look as they began to leave, carefully lifting the lid offthe box and peering inside before balking at its contents.

“Wait! What am Isupposed to do with a miniature tuba?!”

“Yes, have a niceday!” Sakura called, taking Hidan’s arm as she hurried down the street.

Once they were ablock or so away, she slipped her phone back out of her pocket and checked ‘Miguel Sorrentino – one miniature tuba’ off her own, digital list, Hidan walking nextto her and whistling happily.

“Another one dealtwith. And I’ll make a note that giving the stuff to family members works justfine if the original person is deceased.” She muttered to herself, scrollingthrough her notes for this annoying ‘project’. After a moment, she grimaced andlet out a sigh, shoving her cell back into her pocket.

“I’ve estimated thatI’m going to need at least$1,673 in cash for some of these IOUs. Notincluding the budget I’ll need for buyingsome of this shit.” Groaning in frustration, Sakura ran her hands down herface, frowning up at the darkening sky. As rain began to fall, she waspleasantly surprised to find the demon snapping his fingers to summon anumbrella, holding it over the pair of them as they walked.

“Why couldn’t the old manhave left me a small fortune too?”

Hidan hummed in reply,lips quirked in a smirk.

“How about some fuckin’salamander eyes? They taste just like olives, I swear.”

“Hell no!”

#hidasaku #thirrinwrites #thirrinanswers #3k words here u go anon thanks waiting ;w; #long post #gomen mobile readers #Anonymous

[wagooglet]

where can i read about all ur ocs....i gotta kno

okay so since The Story ™ is constantly changing i’ve decided i’m gonna go here n explain everything to the best of my ability. (takes a deep breath) let’s get into it. under the cut because there’s a lot but thanks for your interest- this took ages to type out.!

oookay.. to start things off, there’s this bitch ass named cain. he’s pretty happy with his brother and sister (jax and lucidia) but he’s got internalized violent impulses. he doesn’t act on them but when he DOES it’s usually on himself. his dad is an asshole named azuriel. he’s an archangel. anyway, so azuriel is a good father to jax and lucidia- but pushes cain a BIT too hard, because he’s the younger sibling, and a bit physically underwhelming. you know. so he’s basically a huge asswad to cain. and with cain’s already detrimental impulses and negative feelings towards himself, he snaps at the smallest thing and stabs his brother, before panicking and killing his husband and two kids. then he freaks out about it, but instead of.. i don’t know, helping him out of it- his father says that the only way to repent is to do whatever he says. cain, being a pushover, does just that. he does a lot of shit (like.. eats people and stabs twinks), becomes a fallen angel because of his heinous acts + changes his name to okumura.

for the first half of his life, okumura’s torn between wanting to be cain again + succumbing to his father’s command. he misses his husband and his family but his father’s pushing him to eat people and do whatever he says so.. uh, he can’t go back. enter michael. michael’s the party hard, demon king of the time. and though he’s a good ruler, he’s.. too open on his romantic lifestyle, for the first portion of his rulership. basically, okumura’s father urges okumura to frame michael for his death (the father’s)- have him publicly punished, and then.. uh, banished to a rock. he stays in that rock for.. quite a while? a thousand years, at least- people sort of forget about him over time. with no legacy behind him, okumura becomes the king- and his father his most trusted advisor. okumura’s kingship is worshipped, and so is he, for the first few weeks. he publicly humiliates michael + goes on about how that’s what happens to traitors to the kingdom, and that’s what he’d do to any of them. then he doesn’t have anyone to make an example of, so it’s back to him being quietly punished by his father. because his father’s been.. mentally possessing him for quite some time, he leaves okumura as an empty husk when he stops possessing him. this causes okumura to completely break off the tree of “i want to go home”, and he.. err, goes berserk. he cuts his hair, takes after his father’s tyrannical and violent actions, and changes his name to yukio. lucidia (his sister) intervenes, at one point, and yukio bites her eye out. and tries to kill her. to death. so now she hates yukio. jax is back- he regenerated (a family magic), and he hates yukio, too.

so yukio’s terrible. he’s now a demon with a god complex- he’s a perfectionist, a narcissist, and he wants to make humans “perfect”. he’s lost all resemblance of his angel self- his missing arm is now completely made out of this black, tar-like matter, and his wings are basically bones covered in the same substance. now, his idea of perfection is unachievable (based on his father’s expectations for him), and when they aren’t up to par, he beats them up about it, before beating them mentally and.. ideally, taking complete mental control of them. this is where mikiko orochi comes in. he’s just a small guy who likes to skate and he’s got a crush on this one man who he thinks is completely out of his league. he’s walking down the street one day and he bumps into.. you guessed it- yukio. see, yukio isn’t in his demon form- he’s human, so he isn’t melting black slime all over the damn place. long story short, yukio sees the potential in mikiko, befriends him, and then locks him in his house. for like.. a year. he beats mikiko and yells at him, degrades him SO much that he, at one point, succumbs to yukio’s mentality, and basically has little free thought.

so this is going on- oh, by the way, michael’s back. it’s been like a thousand years since he was banished to a rock. yeah. he’s changed.. a lot, and he’s just a tired, old demon who drinks coffee in his mansion in the actual vortex. he’s also technically the grim reaper. so anyway, mikiko is FINALLY rescued from the Nasty Hands of Yukio by an archangel by the name of sig (haddi’s oc)- and he’s.. in shock, for a while, but he SLOWLY gets better. 

AAAND MEANWHILE.. there’s this guy named tony. he’s an incubus. works as a judge under this tyrannical king, and his.. ability, basically, is that he has this eye that can peer into the souls of others to distinguish the true from the false. he has no friends (they were all killed because they were rumoured to speak ill will of the king)- so he’s depressed, but he’s still fuckin. he has a huge ass dick.

back to yukio. he’s being punished for ALL his crimes, he has kids, he hurts them far more cruelly than his father ever was to him. eventually, they get out, but not without psychological damage. seeing as none of the punishments he’d gone through prior WORKED, yukio is finally sent to work as a servant under the demon king lucifer (haddi’s oc, also. i fucking love his stud ass)- where he lies to this day. sig and michael are married, too. it’s iconic. 

flash back to mikiko. it’s been approximately eleven to twelve years since he’s actually been in the human realm. he FINALLY hit his growth spurt, grew his hair out a little, got more comfy with his body and got a prosthetic ring finger (yukio. bit off his finger. it was a way of stopping mikiko from making any formal devotion, but it didn’t stop him from getting a sick ass vibrating finger. okay. it doesn’t vibrate. but we wish). 

he decides to head back to go to law school so he can become an international prosecutor. he goes to law school for two reasons- one, to defend others who weren’t there to defend him, and two, because he has the farfetched hope of meeting up with his long-time crush, who is also a lawyer. lo and behold, he DOES meet his lawyer crush. they get together, after YEARS, have some alcohol and kiss. and then they get together. they’re dating.

anywhosies.. that’s about it. a bit of a sweat, but that’s about the main story i’ve got. i have a few OTHER ocs i’ll explain but those are the important ones!! i’m SURE i forgot some details about my own story, but it’s a honkin’ 1,538 words. if you read through this WHOLE damn thing, i seriously applaud you. thanks so much for your interest! 

Kai (Lost): another one of yukio’s vore victims, his whole.. incident, dates back to the okumura ages. he pretty much almost got vored to death by okumura (forced by his father). he.. uh, survived- but he’s pretty much miserable. he’s REALLY miserable, actually. he roams the streets with his sister, buster kneecaps. (thank you anon for the name i will never stop being grateful) and they’re both part of a local, self-formed.. mafia, of sorts. more like a mercenary. they’re kick ass as fuck, pretty much. inseparable, also.

Atlas: everyone’s (not) favorite deity! he’s the god of earthly pleasures, and a real sweetheart. he can change his appearance and gender accordingly, can change what he appears as, etcetera.. he LOVES humans (hence.. why he chooses to make himself appear as one). he’s proud of humans, and he loves strawberries and gold. likes to treat himself and others. a generally pleasant and lovely man.

Seth: yukio’s younger son. he’s really depressed, dies a lot, and is pretty much falling down the steep slope into permanently dying. he only has his brother in life. exempt magic user, but using it too much hurts him. seriously needs a hug. has broken his legs more times than he can count. 

Riley: GOD HE’S SUCH A LOOOOOSERR RILEY IN HIS APARTMENT BY HIMSEEEELF okay no he’s a historian and he’s a loser and i make fun of him a lot. VERY anxious. has a cat named schrodinger. is fascinated with namely egyptian history. likes to ride those pizza scooters. he’s nervous constantly, tall and lanky, and falls over a lot.

Jax + Lucidia: right. so i know i brushed over them, but i’ll give you a little more indepth into their.. characters? jax is the oldest sibling in the yutrio (yeah.. that’s what i call them lmaohgfhug), he’s VERY intelligent, and works as the branch manager in demon chili’s (okay. no he doesn’t. but still)- the most revered by his father. is still petty at yukio, but would kill to have another chance at having a functioning sibling relationship with cain. VERY, very strong. he has crystalline slime magic. 

lucidia’s the middle sibling in the yutrio. a bit mysterious, but she’s a gorgeous, buff lesbian, whom i love so much. she’s basically on the hunt for yukio to get revenge for EVERYTHING he’s done. otherwise, she’s very kind. she frequents human bars, loves to ride motorcycles on highways at night, and she loves girls. she’s a succubus but she doesn’t actually fucking realize it. and even if she did, she doesn’t give a fuck.

Thicc the Elf: “Wanna try this bad boy? I call it the Ass Blaster.” we don’t talk about thicc you guys already fucking KNOW about him. (he’s my high elf d&d character)

#ask to tag #anonymous #ask #stuff it alex #my writing #oc tag