#I don’t wanna risk the three strikes and you’re out rule

[rnelodyy]

c!Dream and the rules

(/dsmp /rp, all names refer to characters, not content creators)

I think one of the most striking parts of Exile is something that I rarely see talked about, and it’s Dream’s rules. Or rather, how his rules were made to be used as justification to hurt Tommy.

The thing about exile is that, outside of the initial rule of “Don’t go back to L’Manburg”, Dream never told Tommy the rules, yet constantly operated under the assumption that Tommy already knew them, and had accepted them. The rules also changed constantly, without Tommy ever being notified until he was already in trouble.

The second time Dream told Tommy to put his armor in the hole, he didn’t tell Tommy to do that right away. Instead, the conversation went like this (slightly edited to remove stammering and unrelated dialogue).

Dream: Do you have, uh… something you wanna put on the floor here? Tommy: Yes. (drops two pieces of red concrete as Dream digs a hole) Dre-eam! You’re evil. You’re evil. Dream: Anything else, Tommy? Tommy: Nope! Dream: Oh c’mon, I know there’s something else you wanna drop down here. Tommy: (panicking slightly) No, there… (messages BBH “take this and run”, throws him the disc BBH had gifted him earlier) Um… I don’t reckon there is! (pause) Dream: Okay, are you suuuure? Tommy: YES. Dream: Alright… How ‘bout your armor, Tommy? Tommy: Well, no, this is- I actually earned this myself. Dream: I know you did! Tommy: Leave me alone. Dream: Just drop it in the hole, Tommy. Tommy: Wh- no, NO, you can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit, what do you mean?! Dream: (sing-song) Tommy… Tommy: What? (Dream hits Tommy with his axe, taking over half his health) Tommy: (screams, drops his armor) OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!

The only rule Tommy was aware of at this time was that he wasn’t allowed to go back to L’Manburg. Dream had taken his armor the night before, but there was no indication that he expected Tommy to do this constantly. Taking his armor upon initially arriving at Logstedshire made some kind of sense, allowing Tommy to keep it would run the risk of him trying to fight his way back into L’Manburg. Taking his new, very shitty armor (seriously it was an iron chestplate and a pair of golden leggings he got from a ruined portal chest) made no sense at all, so the fact that Tommy was confused and refused to cooperate at first isn’t unexpected in the slightest.

And the thing is… Dream was aware of this fact. Throughout the conversation, he never really sounded annoyed, and was actively teasing Tommy at times. This isn’t a good thing btw, it’s a sign that he was fully aware that Tommy didn’t know what he wanted from him, and that that would create a situation where Dream could “put him in his place” as it were.

If you’re a parent, and your kid does something that’s not allowed, without knowing it’s not allowed, you don’t start off with a beating. You sit them down, calmly explain the rules to them and explain why those rules are there, then send them on their way with the knowledge that they shouldn't do it again.

This interaction wasn’t an instance of Tommy acting out and Dream correcting him. This interaction was a trap. Dream set Tommy up to fail by not telling him the rules beforehand, and when Tommy offered even the slightest bit of resistance and asked why he needed to drop his armor, Dream jumped straight to beating him. It’s a powerplay, plain and simple.

This is demonstrated again with the destruction of Logstedshire. Dream got pissed that Tommy disobeyed him by having hidden chests with gear under his house, and retaliated by destroying everything Tommy had built, destroying every item he’d collected, killing his pet and only foodsource, barring him from the Nether, banning everyone except himself from visiting, and telling him to start over from scratch after a whole lecture about how Tommy betrayed him.

Again, I wanna point out some specific lines from this lecture that illustrate my point very well.

Dream: You were lying to me! You were lying to me. Tommy: No- Why was I lying?! Dream: What do you mean, why were you lying?! Tommy: I wasn’t hi- I wasn’t- Dream: You hid things in a chest knowing they were things I wouldn’t want you to have! And you hid it in a way that way I would never find it!

Except Tommy didn’t know that. The contents of the stash were all items that Tommy had obtained previously without any issue (diamonds, emeralds, iron, ender pearls, some pickaxes, and some purely sentimental items like flowers, a jukebox, and pictures of Tubbo and L’Manburg). In fact, the vast majority of them came from Tommy’s aboveground storage, which Dream had full access to, and had looked through before!

Dream also never said Tommy wasn’t allowed to hide stuff, and there was nothing to suggest he didn’t want Tommy to keep secrets from him.

There’s been a theory floating around for a while that Dream knew about Tommy’s item stash beforehand, since it was a very strange place to dig a hole (like, right in front of the house in the center of Logstedshire itself, instead of out in the plains where the TNT wouldn’t damage any structures), and Tommy had previously forgotten to cover up the entrance ladder. While Dream hadn’t looked inside the house, he would’ve definitely heard Tommy place the block back.

If this theory is correct, then this was yet another trap. Dream knew Tommy had a hidden room, and instead of just saying “hey, I don’t want you to have a hidden stash, go put this back and fill in the room” (which would’ve still been bullshit btw), he went COMPLETELY ballistic, destroyed EVERYTHING Tommy had, and while doing it, kept admonishing Tommy for betraying him, said shit like “I thought we were friends”, and even accused him of preparing to attack Dream. Again, a powerplay.

Hell, even the exile conflict itself is this! Tommy was exiled for griefing the king’s property while being a high-ranking official in L’Manburg. Except Fundy, the then-president’s son, CONSTANTLY griefed Eret’s shit after the L’Manburg war, ranging from ripping down one of their towers to “shrink” it, filling another tower with water, and multiple elaborate plots to steal the throne from under their nose. But apparently, between all of that shit and the exile-conflict, the rules were silently changed, meaning Dream could exile Tommy for breaking a couple blocks and placing some rude signs in George’s house. Even the punishment itself was changed without warning, as Tommy went from being exiled from L’Manburg to exiled from “everywhere that’s ever been touched.”

...I was originally gonna make a different point here. I may put it in the reblogs, because I still think it’s very interesting. But, in the middle of writing this essay I had to stop because it was late, then I spent the entire next day packing up because I’m in the middle of a move. It's now the next evening, I'm sat in my new room, on my camping bed, I opened this doc because I pretty much forgot what I typed, I reread it, and then I realized… This isn’t an isolated series of events. This is a pattern for Dream.

Before Tommy first joined the server, there were only three set rules: no stealing, no griefing, and no killing people. Except by that point, those rules weren’t enforced at all. In fact, Dream broke all three at once at one point, by killing George and burning his diamond armor because he didn’t feel it was fair that George got to run around in full diamond when everyone else still had iron.

Tommy joined the server, and broke the rules like everyone else. He stole shit, broke shit, killed George for funsies… and he got exiled for it. Seriously, they dumped him in an empty snowfield for breaking rules that nobody had enforced for weeks. So technically, the Exile-arc isn’t even the first time something like this has happened to him!

During the events that would eventually spark the Disc War, Sapnap stole a bunch of Tommy’s items (including the only Netherite chestplate on the server at the time), and told him he’d only give the stuff back if Tommy helped him with a conflict he had with Ponk. Long story short, Dream tried to intervene and was killed by Tommy and Sapnap, and Dream stole Tommy’s discs to force him to apologize. He then kept the discs, and the Disc War followed. Sapnap, despite being the aggressor and arguably forcing Tommy to participate in the conflict, was never punished.

This proves not only that the rules can change whenever Dream feels like it, but that they’re arbitrarily enforced. Dream refuses to punish his friends for the same crimes he endlessly fucks over Tommy for.

L’Manburg was created in part because of the fact that the rules were unevenly enforced. Tommy, Wilbur, and later Tubbo were repeatedly killed, stolen from, imprisoned, and even held hostage for very minor crimes, while the people killing, imprisoning, kidnapping and stealing from them were able to do so without impunity.

This was also the point where Dream just started making up new rules; there was no rule against having governments on the server, or making a separate area where Dream’s rules wouldn’t apply, so Dream banned governments, and used this new rule as an excuse to kill them, take their items, and tear their land to shreds.

And that’s another thing: the punishments for breaking Dream’s rules are INCREDIBLY harsh.

Kill him non-canonically one time? Your most prized possessions will now be dangled over your head and used to hurt you for the next few months.

Make a country with different laws that doesn’t infringe on anyone’s territory, has no desire to expand, is explicitly pacifistic and open to trade negotiations? You’ll be forced to fight a war you’re in no way equipped to fight, you’ll be betrayed and murdered and have your land destroyed in front of your very eyes until you literally have no choice but to surrender.

Mildly vandalize the king’s house, which nobody else has ever been punished for? You’ll be dragged into court, exiled from your home, and subjected to weeks of abuse until you believe that all of your friends hate you and you actively want to kill yourself.

Hide some stuff in a secret chest? Your only shelter will be exploded, your pet/only food source will be killed, all your items will be destroyed, you’ll be banned from the Nether, and none of your friends will be allowed to come see you.

This is all such disproportionate retribution it’s ridiculous. It’s like punishing someone for speeding by blowing up their car with a ballistic missile.

So to sum up: Dream’s rules are arbitrarily enforced, and he can just straight up make them up on the spot if he feels like it. Sometimes, he won’t tell you a rule exists until you’ve already broken it, and you’re treated as if you broke it out of malice instead of genuine ignorance. And if you do break a rule, and he decides you have to be punished, it will always be a punishment so harsh it doesn’t even ATTEMPT to fit the crime.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty fucking corrupt and tyrannical to me.

When people say Tommy deserved exile, or made Dream spiral into villainy, or abused Dream somehow (seriously I’ve seen this take multiple times and every time it makes my brain melt) by breaking the rules, I would invite them to take a step back and ask themselves, why did that rule exist? Did Tommy know it existed? Was it enforced for everyone other than him as well? Does the punishment fit the crime?

Dream has a bad habit of making up rules, or enforcing old ones that were never enforced before, to punish those who threaten his power. None of the Dream Team were ever punished for anything, despite committing the same crimes as the L’Manburgians. That is, until they founded Mexican L’Manburg (i.e. went against Dream’s rule), at which point they were attacked by Dream and George was dethroned for “not being neutral enough.”

Tommy should’ve faced consequences for what he did. But those consequences should’ve come naturally, and been carried out by the people he hurt. Like, if Dream hadn’t intervened, griefing George’s house would’ve resulted in George griefing Tommy back in revenge. In fact, he DID do that, by turning Tommy’s entire house into granite and putting the Jump In The Cadillac picture on his front lawn.

These are natural, proportionate consequences. Exile was none of that. The Disc War was none of that. Everything that happened to L’Manburg was none of that.

Dream’s rules and how he enforces them are inherently corrupt and tyrannical. To pretend it’s anything but is disingenuous at best.

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #c!dream #c!tommy #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #i had a COMPLETELY different point that i wanted to make but then i thought about it and went w a i t #uhhh if you wanna hear my original point lemme know i guess #anyway c!dream is such an interesting character! i hate him! #little green bastard man #c!dream critical

[fuwushiguro]

@dabitdabi Welcome to playmate life gorgeous! Hawks is one of my favourites to write so thank you so much for sending him my way, I hope this is worth the wait!!

This is part of my Playboy Mansion event, feel free to participate!!

Hawks x f!reader

Genre: smut, (idk if this might be a bit fluffy too??)

Warnings: 18+, virginity loss, consensual sex, mentions of alcohol, oral (female receiving), fingering, mentions of cum, vaginal sex, unprotected sex.

Words: 3.5k

This wasn’t your first Playboy party, and you were sure it wouldn’t be your last. You’d been working as a bunny for around three months now, the first party was a little overwhelming, but the other girls were more than happy to hold your hand through the whole experience. The more parties you attended, the more comfortable you became. You never worried about guests being inappropriate, you weren’t just employees to your boss. You were bunnies, and you deserved to be treated with respect like everyone else attending the parties, you were the stars and made these extravagant events what they were.

You knew being a bunny came with the connotation of being hypersexualised, but becoming a bunny was too good of an opportunity to pass up. You weren’t one of the most popular bunnies since you were a little shy, but you were known by all of the guests who regularly attended these parties. You were often tagged in photos where you’d posed with guests. They’d always leave little comments that made you smile. You had the best job in the world.

Your first instance of trouble came at this particular party. You’d never experienced any guests acting unseemly, but this evening was different. You leaned over the bar to collect a tray of shots to walk around with, when you felt somebody tug on the tail attached to your corset. You ignored it at first, understanding that guests enjoyed playing with the bunnies. However when the assailant delivered a stinging spank to your ass cheek, your attention snapped in their direction. You recognised the man, he was a gruff looking entrepreneur who’s name you couldn’t place right now. It was apparent that he was drunk, you hoped it was just a little bit of teasing. He became a little more aggressive with you, begging you to kiss him and spend the night with him. There were no members of security nearby, but a few of your fellow bunnies did their best to help you get away from him, to no avail.

“Hey, get away from her.” You heard someone speak. You turned to face the soft voice, and struggled to see the man who had came to your defence through your bleary eyes. The drunk man tried to argue. Quickly you rubbed the droplets out of your vision so you could see who was helping you. Before the drunkard could state his case, your rescuer had grabbed him and pulled him towards a member of security to deal with. Some of your friends crowded you and coddled you, making sure you were okay after what happened. The blonde-haired hero came to check on you once he’d dealt with the situation. Before you could think, you rose to your feet with tears flowing from your eyes and ran to the nearest bathroom. You locked yourself in a stall while you broke down, feeling bad that your makeup would be ruined. You hoped that you wouldn’t get in too much trouble for taking the rest of the night off, but you’re sure that the other girls would defend you and explain the situation. You wouldn’t be surprised if the man who groped you got banned from attending these parties. There is a strict policy against any fornication at work, it was a fireable offence. But guests also had a one strike and you’re out rule, they mostly knew better than to try anything as brash as that man had, but he’d regret it now that he wouldn’t be invited to return ever again.

While you continued to cry, you heard the door squeak open, and footsteps approach your stall. You sniffed slightly, but mostly tried to calm yourself down. You couldn’t cry all evening after all, you didn’t want to give yourself a headache. You waited for the person to reveal themselves, assuming it was one of your friends. It would have been hard to tell who was who from the crack under the stall door. You were all in the same uniforms after all. But the shoes were nothing like your uniforms. It was a man, clearly, wearing a pair of bulky black boots and tan trousers.

“Um,” You sniffed, “Sir this is the ladies bathroom.” You alerted him, sure he already knew.

“Yeah, I know, I just wanted to check on you birdie.” He spoke back to you.

“I’m a bunny not a bird.” You corrected him, completely glossing over the pet name he’d decided to give you.

“Yeah I was just, never mind… You’re okay right? Can you come out here?” He queried. Obvious concern in his voice. You declined, you didn’t want him to see you like this. Your eyes were clouded with unshed tears. Your mascara had ran down your cheeks and you were sure your foundation underneath had probably ran too. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer, he asked you again… and again… and again…

“Fine.” You responded.

You flushed your crumpled up pieces of tear-stained toilet roll away and unlocked the door. His expression flickered from concern to sympathy as he saw how upset you were. You walked by him so that you could wash your hands, and you noticed in the mirror that he walked into the cubicle you’d just left. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but he returned to your side with several layers of toilet roll. When you washed and dried your hands, he ran the toilet roll under the tap. He cupped your face in one of his hands and lightly dabbed the damp tissue into your cheeks and under eyes. He was trying to help you; he was trying to tidy up your appearance. Why was he being so sweet?

“I think that just might make it worse.” You announced, knowing you were right.

“Okay then. Show me what I need to do.” He requested, “Please let me help you, I don’t want to see you upset like this over that scumbag.” He explained. Your heart clenched a little he was so caring and considerate; you could almost feel your heart melting. You took him by the hand and led him out of the bathrooms. You knew there were a lot of areas off limits and you’d risk losing your job, but you wanted to spend more time with your saviour and give him the chance to help you out again.

☆ ☆ ☆

You brought him to the bunny dressing room. You barged in with him assuming your co-workers wouldn’t be here, but one of them was sitting in a dressing chair topping up her makeup.

“You know you can’t bring people in here to hook up!” She reminded you.

“We aren’t here for that!” You protested, feeling extremely embarrassed. You felt the heat rise to your face and you tried to change the subject, “He just saved me from some trouble, please don’t tell anyone, he’s just checking on me.” You stated, hoping she’d take pity on you.

“Oh I don’t care, you know I won’t tell. I’m just about finished here so I’ll let you love birds do what you need to do.” She teased as she exited the glamorous pink dressing room.

You tried to protest once again before she left but it was too late. The honey-haired man smiled but decided not to join in the teasing. He simply requested that you show him what he needed to do to help you fix your makeup. But instead, you gave him your removal kit. You were done for the evening, there was no way you could go back to work when you felt the way you did. You both smiled and giggled sweetly as he did his best to remove your makeup for you. You chatted a little and got to know each other better, you found out his name was Keigo and he was a friend of the hosts. Once your makeup was off, you gave him a grateful, “thanks” and stood to your feet. The least you could do was escort him back downstairs before you turned in for the night.

“You know angel, you look just as cute without makeup as you do with.” He told you. You were stopped in your tracks as you couldn’t help but blush at the compliment. “Don’t you wanna hang out a little while before I have to leave?” He wondered, hoping you’d stick around. You knew that you shouldn’t, but you were too drawn to the handsome stranger that you couldn’t resist. You sat back down on the comfortable carpet with him and couldn’t help but coyly shy as he stared deeply into your eyes.

“Thanks again for saving me Keigo.” You repeated, you were so grateful for his help. You were sure that security would have helped you sooner or later, but you were truly fortunate that Keigo had been there to rescue you from his clutches.

“It really shook you up, didn’t it baby?” He sweetly questioned, “Have you never had to deal with something like that before?” He added. You shook your head.

“It was scary, obviously, but it wasn’t just that.” You expressed, not sure why you felt so comfortable sharing your personal life with this man.

“What do you mean?” He asked you, placing a hand on your leg. He stroked over your pantyhose with his thumb as he held onto you.

“Oh… I’m not sure I should say,” You started, “It’s a little embarrassing.” You followed. He didn’t speak, instead he just stared intensely into your sweet eyes, willing you to continue if you felt like it. You kept stuttering, starting and stopping your sentence as you tried to get the confidence to confide in him.

“Birdie, I promise I won’t judge you if you want to tell me.” He soothed, hoping to help you get your words out.

“It’s just… I’ve never…” You began. You screwed your eyes shut as you couldn’t bare to look at him when you finished your sentence, “I’m a virgin.” You blurted out. Your eyes were already closed but you felt so exposed you decided to cover your face with your hands too. You were so embarrassed; you were sitting with a guy who seemed too cool for school and probably had a wild sex life. You wouldn’t have been surprised if you opened your eyes and he was gone. But instead, you felt him grab your wrists and remove your hands from your face. Instinctively you opened your eyes, and right at that moment Keigo planted a delicate kiss onto your lips.

“I’m sorry if that was a little forward, I just wanted to show you it doesn’t bother me.” He smiled as he parted from your lips slightly. It was your first kiss, you weren’t upset. If anyone had to steal your first kiss, you weren’t mad about it being this beautiful stranger.

“Can we, um, do that again?” You asked, the words left your mouth and you instantly began to cringe. You hated how awkward you were, but he just had this effect on you. But before you could overthink your graceless comment, his lips were on yours once again.

You got lost in the feeling of his soft lips on yours. He tasted so heavenly; you couldn’t get enough. He got more adventurous and slipped a tongue into your mouth. You weren’t sure what to do so he did his best to guide you. Once you eased into it a little more, your kissing became more frenzied. You couldn’t get enough of each other. What started off soft and sweet became hot and passionate, but you knew you had to hold back. You couldn’t risk getting caught with him or you’d risk losing your job. He lightly groped your breast as his kissing traversed from your lips down to your neck. You couldn’t stop the moan that huffed from your lips, and you bucked against his thigh trying to gain some friction against your clothed cunt.

“You look fucking hot in that outfit.” He mumbled between kisses.

“Stop!” You raised your voice as you pushed yourself away from him.

“Did I do something wrong?” He wondered, confused by your sudden outburst.

“No, you’re great I’m sorry. It’s against the rules for Playmates to hook up with guests, I will lose my job if we’re caught.” You explained. Keigo nodded as if he understood, giving you an innocent smile as he planted a kiss on your lips once more.

“I get it. Sorry I got carried away.” He told you, picking himself off the ground. He held a hand out to you to help you to your feet, “I think I’ll get going. I’ll see you at the next party though, right?” He explained. You didn’t want to see him at the next party. You didn’t want him to leave. But you didn’t want to risk losing your job for the sake of keeping Keigo around. And you really didn’t want to throw your virginity at him just to prevent him from leaving.

“I, um…”

“I’ll have no reason to come to these things anymore if I don’t get to hang out with the prettiest bunny in the whole mansion.” He smiled, lightly brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You weren’t usually one for compliments. You knew guys would say anything to get in your pants. But there was something so sincere about Keigo. The way everything seemed so genuinely sweet and affectionate when he spoke to you. The way he made you feel like you were the only other person in the whole world with him. You loved being a bunny. You loved living with the girls and you loved all of the fun you had at the mansion. But you were in a role in which you were hypersexualised to everyone around you. How could they expect guests to not want to fuck you? How could you be expected to resist someone as sexy as Keigo? You didn’t think you’d lose your virginity like this, but who were you saving it for anyway?

☆ ☆ ☆

You pressed your lips against Keigo’s once again, and he was more than happy to respond. You began tugging at his clothes, indicating that you wanted them off. You didn’t break your kissing for more than a second. He took his jacket off while still deeply kissing you but removed himself quickly whilst he took off his t-shirt. You didn’t break the kiss either while you removed your high heels. You shrunk a few inches but Keigo didn’t mind leaning down a little further to keep smothering you in affection. He began to travel down to your neck once again but settled on the flesh of your breasts that were being hoisted up by your corset. You let out soft sighs as he continued. He crouched down slightly as he began fondling the bottom of your corset that resided between your thighs. He managed to unbutton it as he pulled down your sheer tights and panties. You were about to remove your corset when he asked you not to.

“You look too fucking good in that outfit to take it off.” He alerted you.

You felt slightly embarrassed by the praise, but it didn’t last long when he pulled you down to kiss him again, you were looming over him a little as you did. “Lie down.” He commanded. You did as you were told, eagerly awaiting whatever he had planned. He parted your legs a little, he repeatedly kissed your leg as he travelled up towards your pussy. He spread your legs wider when he reached your sopping sex, and instantly got to work licking your clit. You moaned almost instantly at the contact as your body softened into his touch. He slowly plunged a finger in, carefully working your innocent interior.

“Tell me if it hurts or if you want me to stop, okay birdie?” He instructed.

“Y-yeah…” You moaned. You’d be crazy to want this feeling to end.

He latched back onto your clit. His licking started off slow, but he eventually picked up the pace. He alternated between licking and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves all while still pumping his digit in and out of your tight cunt. The euphoric feeling caused you to writhe around on the ground. You were compelled to close your legs and clamp them around your lovers head, but he used his free hand to pin one of your legs to the ground while he continued working at your desperate cunt. He slipped another finger inside of you and continued his motions. He frantically began scissoring you open so he could prepare you for his cock. The sensations were too much, you hadn’t felt like this before. You felt a rising knot in your stomach and you were sure it was going to unfurl at any moment.

“P-please, Keigo I… I think I’m gonna.” You panted, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace.

“No.” He spoke. Halting all actions. You were crushed. Why did he stop? You whimpered at the loss of contact and Keigo admired your little virgin hole clenching around nothing. You sat up a little, wondering what was going on. “Lie back down for me angel.” He commanded. You did as you were told, anticipating what he was doing. You knew instantly when you heard the unzipping of his pants. He was going to fuck you.

“Keigo… N-need it. Need it s’bad.” You whined. Your bratty voice earned a smirk from Keigo.

“Yeah? My mouth and fingers made you a little needy huh? I wanted to feel you cum around my cock.” He told you as he made contact with your dripping pussy. The feeling of him sliding his cock up and down your slit alone was heavenly. You were desperate for him to fill out your hole.

“Please, please fuck me now.” You requested.

He lined himself up with your entrance. He slowly sunk himself into you, making continuous eye contact with you as he did so. He was paying attention to every facial expression you made, he didn’t want to hurt you. He was impressed that you took him like champ, he completely bottomed out inside of you and he was more than ready to fuck your brains out.

He set a harsh pace almost instantly, he was aching with such a desperate need to cum. As soon as he saw you he knew that he had to have you tonight. He could see there was something untouched and innocent about you, but he didn’t expect you to be a fully fledged virgin. You were his now. No matter what you’d remember him as your first sexual encounter and no one would ever be able to compare.

He continued drilling into you, thoughts of owning you bringing him closer to his climax. Your arousal was rebuilding too. He began kissing you once again, although it was hard for each of you to focus. The building pleasure in the pair of you caused you both to occasionally moan into each other’s mouths. The sounds being devoured by each other arousing you more, bringing you closer and closer to your highs. He bent both of your legs up to your chest so he could continue pounding you at a deeper angle.

“K-Keigo,” You whimpered, “It hurts.” You expressed, not used to the feeling of him nudging your cervix.

“I’m sorry birdie, I’ll make it better I promise, I just-“ He stopped as he moaned through his speech. Making no attempt to change what he was doing to alleviate the pain you were feeling, “Cum for me baby you’ll feel better, I wanna feel you cum around me.” He huffed into your face. He reached down and began toying with your clit as he encouraged you to let yourself go. The contact was more than enough to send you over the edge. You were forced to keep constant eye contact with Keigo as he fucked you through your release. Your cunt clamped down on him, milking his cock for all it was worth. He rested his forehead on yours as you both came together, looking lovingly into each other’s eyes.

You’d always heard mixed reviews about losing your virginity. You would either hear that it was a beautiful and romantic moment you should give to someone meaningful, or that it’s a terrible time and it has no meaning on your life. You didn’t know Keigo very well at all, but you felt grateful that he was the one you got to share your first time with. For someone who was a stranger, he truly did care about your enjoyment and keeping you safe. He was still between your legs, letting you warm his cock as he laid on top of you. He gently peppered kisses on your forehead and cheeks while stroking your hair.

You were lucky you hadn’t been caught, you were lucky that for now you still had a job. But if he comes back to the next mansion party, you knew that you wanted to do this with him again.

© 2021 dabistiktokdance

Thank you so much again for participating, it was a pleasure to write this and have you be a bunny for the night! I hope you enjoyed your experience at the party!! 

#hawks #mha hawks #bnha hawks #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #hawks x reader #hawks smut #hawks x reader smut #keigo #keigo takami #keigo takami smut #keigo takami x reader #bnha hawks x reader #mha hawks x reader #my hero academia hawks x reader #boku no hero academia hawks x reader #Venus Events #Venus 200 event 🪐 #virginity #vaginal penetration #unprotected sex #mentions of alcohol

[lizamango]

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 3/?

 A/N: Hey everyone, sorry this took so long!! This chapter was kinda hard to write, I felt like there wasn’t much that I could add but I did my best! I wanna get to Bucky as much as you all do! 😭😩

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp​​, @white-wolf-buckaroo​​, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies​

Word Count: 2098

​Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~

Warnings: none

Chapter Summary: You and Steve run from HYDRA

Chapter 3: TOMORROW ISN’T PROMISED TO ANYBODY

I enter a shopping mall where I buy a hoodie for myself and a jacket, glasses and a hat for Rogers using cash. I pass by JD sports and see some Supra Vaders I know the Captain will just love so I go in and grab a pair, and get a pair of Nike Dunk Sky His for myself. I leave and meet him where he waits, away from any crowds and we put on our simple yet effective disguises.

“First rule of going on the run, is don’t run. Walk,” I say, recalling my operations training.

“If I run in these shoes they’re gonna fall off.”

I smirk. “Sorry, thought you’d be bigger.”

Ignoring my innuendo, Steve huffs. “They’re ridiculous, why can’t I lace them up?”

“It’s a fashion statement.” I glance at a map as we pass by. “Apple store’s upstairs.” We ride the escalator and enter the store.

Finding an empty laptop, I get to work. “The drive has a Level 6 homing program so as soon as we boot up, SHIELD will know exactly where we are.”

“How much time will we have?” he asks, surveying the area not so subtly.

“About 9 minutes from…” I insert the drive. “now.” I enter the coding commands to unlock the intel but something inverts each one… now comes in my training from the Academy of Science and Technology. “Fury was right about that ship. Somebody’s trying to hide something.” As I look through the coding script my inputs are rewritten to counter the commands. “This drive is protected by some sort of AI.”

“Like Stark’s robot voice? Can you override it?”

I raise a brow as I type away. “The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly. I’m gonna try running a tracer. This is a program that SHIELD developed to track hostile malware, so if we can’t read the file, maybe we can find out its origin.” The map tracks a location and pinpoints it as we are approached by a store employee.

“Can I help you guys with anything?”

I react quickly and give him my best charming smile. “Oh, no. My fiancé was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations,” I giggle, placing my hands on Rogers’ shoulders.

“Right,” he adds awkwardly. “We’re gettin’ married.”

“Congratulations! Where are you guys thinkin’ about goin’?”

I go back to the laptop and the state has been pinpointed.

“New Jersey,” the Captain reads aloud.

“Huh,” the employee lets out, surprised. “I have the exact same glasses,” he says after a pause.

“Wow, you two are practically twins,” I remark as I type away.

“Yeah, I wish!” he chuckles. “Specimen. Uh, if you guys need anything… I’ve been Aaron.”

“Thank you,” Rogers rushes out. “You said 9 minutes,” he checks his watch. “Come on.”

I shush him. “Relax… I’m working.” The screen reads Wheaton, New Jersey. “Done.” I look up at him and he has a frown on his face. “You know it?”

“I used to. Let’s go.” He pulls the hard drive out of the laptop and we walk out of the store. “Standard tac team. Two behind, two across,” he turns to face forward. “two comin’ straight at us. If they make us, I’ll engage, you hit the south escalator to the metro.”

As he speaks I roll my eyes, this guy was definitely not meant for the spy world. “Put your arm around me and laugh at something I said,” I say.

“What?” he sounds utterly confused.

“Do it.” I feel his arm rest on my shoulder and he gives the most awkward laugh I have ever heard come from a person. “See, Captain? No need to make such a scene.” We work our way to the escalator and I spot Rumlow on the escalator coming up. I turn to look up at Rogers. “Kiss me.”

“What?” he says again, flustered.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

“Yes they do!” he whispers.

I put my hand to the back of his neck and push him towards me so our lips meet and I feel his hand fall on my waist. I open my eyes and pull away slowly after enough time has passed.

“You still uncomfortable?” I ask turning and walking down the escalator.

“That’s not exactly a word I would use,” he murmurs and quiets down as we get to the parking lot.

“We could get bus tickets to New Jersey, think I’ve got enough cash for the trip,” I suggest.

“Keep a look out,” he says approaching a truck as I frown but do as he says. In no time I hear the start of an engine and whirl to look at him. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he says smugly.

I get into the passenger’s side and he starts to drive to the Garden State.

“Can’t believe Captain America can steal cars…” I say striking up a conversation.

He chuckles. “Kind of a necessary skill when you’re fighting a World War and you’re in enemy territory.”

I hum and he glances at me. “And it’s not stealing if we give it back so get your feet off the dash.”

“Bossy,” I remark but do as he says. “I like that,”

There’s a pink tint to his cheeks and his jaw clenches but he doesn’t say anything.

“So I have a question for you…” I start with a raised brow. “But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, although no answer is an answer in itself so-“

“Get to it, L/N,” he interrupts authoritatively.

“Was that your first kiss since 1945?” I smirk.

“That bad, huh?”

“I didn’t say that!” I laugh.

“Well it kinda sounds like that’s what you’re saying.”

“I was just… wondering if you’ve had practice… since going… into the ice,” for a super secret agent, that answer lacked finesse. “It’s just, I don’t know how you did it in 1945 but guys normally move their mouths for a long kiss like that,” I shrug.

“I don’t need practice.”

“Everyone needs practice.”

“It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m 95, not dead.”

“Oh?” I say, curiosity piqued. “Who’s been kissing Captain America then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Someone special?”

He chuckles. “It might come as a surprise to you but it’s hard to find someone with shared life experience,” he says sarcastically.

“That’s okay, you just make stuff up.”

“What, like you?” I know he doesn’t intend for it to sound mean so I shrug it off.

“Not everyone can handle the truth, can they? I wouldn’t mind a few white lies to keep something good going… and you don’t need shared life experience, right? Not really… there’s that whole opposites attract notion, after all.”

“But it’s good to have someone who understands what you’re going through, right?”

I shrug… sometimes not knowing is better. Safer. “Maybe. But in this occupation…” I sigh. “Well I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in love.”

“You’ve – you never had someone?” Looks like I threw him for a loop.

Shaking my head I turn to look out my window at the trees we pass by. “I don’t hate love or anything… it’s just dangerous to love someone like… us. Isn’t it? They’d either get hurt by people we go after or… ya know, if we don’t come back… it hurts them too.”

“But tomorrow isn’t promised to anybody,” he reasons. “So why deprive yourself of something as great as love on the off chance you die?”

“Because it’s easier.”

“For who?”

“Why the interest Rogers? You wanna fill that spot? Play a little house? Imagine we don’t have to save the world from domestic terrorists?”

He hums at my decision to not answer the question. “No, that’s not what I need right now.”

“And what do you need?”

“Just…” he sighs. “a friend.”

Of course. “Well, there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers…”

“Maybe we could start with not calling each other our last names?” he offers.

I smile. “Maybe.”

We arrive at the location the tracer indicated as the sun is setting.

Camp Lehigh is on a sign but it seems to be long abandoned.

“The file came from these coordinates,” I say as I pick the lock on the chained fence.

“So did I…” Steve says looking up at the sign in nostalgia. “This camp is where I was trained.”

“Change much?”

“A little…”

I wonder around, scanning the area for any thing to indicate a power source. “This is a dead end. Zero heat signatures, zero waves. Not even radio. Whoever created the file must have used a router to throw people off.” I tuck the scanner in my back pocket and the Captain looks up at me then shifts his gaze to behind me, frowning. “What is it?”

He starts walking and I follow. “Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks. This building’s in the wrong place.” He breaks the lock with his shield and we enter as it leads us underground.

I turn on the lights and it reveals the insignia painted on the wall. “This was SHIELD. The early days, after it evolved from the Strategic Scientific Reserve,” I say, recognizing the outdated logo.

We wander around, finding a wall of three portraits. “The three founders.” He looks at me. “What? The history is one of the things they teach at the academies. Colonel Philips, Howard Stark and Margaret Carter.”

“There are academies?”

“Three. Very tough admission.”

Rogers spots something and looks closer. “If you’re already working in a secret office…” he pushes the shelves apart. “Why do you need to hide the elevator?”

Using my SHIELD issued code breaking device I type in the code for the elevator which takes us down even further to a room of computers, monitors and servers.

“This can’t be right… this equipment is ancient how could it be used to make the files?”

There was one place that looked like it came from this century and I decide to take a risk and plug in the usb drive. The servers whir and more lights come on.

“Initiate system?” a computerized voice says.

Yes, I type. “Creepy.” As we wait for the system to boot up I smirk. “Shall we play a game?” I laugh at myself. “It’s from a movie that was really pop-“

“I know,” he interrupts. “I saw it.”

A camera moves to Rogers and a voice recites his name and year of birth. Then it turns to me and does the same.

“Is this the AI that was blocking my commands back at the mall?” I say looking closer.

“I may not be the man I was back when the Captain took me in 1945 but I am.” A photo appears on one of the other screens.

“You know this… thing?”

“Arnim Zola was a German Scientist who worked for the Red Skull.”

“He’s been dead for years,” I add, remember something of the history lessons.

“First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive.” The robot voice recounts his end of life story and how he uploaded his consciousness into databanks.

“How did you get here?”

“By invitation.”

“It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value. Always thought they shoulda just locked them all up… we probably wouldn’t be in this mess if they did.”

“HYDRA would have died with the Red Skull.”

“Cut off one head… two more shall take its place,” I recite their mantra aloud.

“When history did not cooperate… history was changed.” A flurry of photos of the Winter Soldier in the back ground of significant political events appear on the screens.

“That’s impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you,” I say, moving closer.

“Accidents would happen.” News of Howard and Maria Stark’s car accident shows up next.

Rogers punches the screen as Zola provokes him.

Does that mean…? I don’t finish the thought as the mad scientist explains what the drive contains.

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” I ask.

The doors begin to close as Steve is too late to throw his shield. A beeping comes from my communicator, detecting something. “Steve, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic 30 seconds tops.”

“Who fired it?”

“SHIELD.” I pull out the drive and Steve pulls a grate from the floor. I jump in and he follows, putting the shield up above us as rubble rains down on us. He strains against the weight of it all and the debris settles.

💖💖

Thank you for reading!

I'll be gone until Monday again but I'll try to write on my phone!! I have literally never been so busy throughout this summer until now!

Chapter 4

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers #x reader #steve rogers x platonic!reader #flirty!reader #marvel #mcu #marvel rewrite #captain america #winter soldier #catws rewrite #reader insert #fanfic #enemies to lovers #slowburn

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences

Words: 6.3K~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which freedom is a future worth fighting for.

Finally finished this chapter, yay! I promise I throw canon off a ravine entirely next chapter, I just needed to set up some stuff. Hopefully the Ruby POV makes things somewhat fresh.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

____

Chapter 13: system/REBOOT, Part 1

The whole mission is Garnet’s idea. 

By this point, they’ve known about Homeworld’s rushed Beta Kindergarten project for about fifty years. Frankly, its composition leaves much to be desired. The area is rich in the iron and silicon deposits necessary to produce a strong batch of quartzes, but the foundation they incubated all their new soldiers within is red clay cemented sandstone; it’s soft, and in constant danger of erosion. According to all the rebellion’s peridots, many of them top Homeworld kindergarteners before their eventual defection, this type of stone is critically unfit for Gem production. It can’t compress the inclusions of injector fluid at the correct pressure, can’t reliably bar the excess from draining through the porous material. As a result many of the individually incubated sites are predicted to ‘weep’ and lose critical volume, which will inevitably cause the emergent quartzes to be ‘off-color’ in some fashion. Some may be under regulation height, some may exhibit crystal twinning, some may be incapable of standard abilities like shapeshifting or weapon summoning, so on and so forth.

As a fellow off-color herself, Garnet carries a deep empathy for all those who are forsaken and unwanted. She can foresee the dire fate of these Beta Gems creeping over the dawning horizon even without the benefit of future vision, can foresee that despite all of these soldiers’ loyal programming, they’re ultimately cursed to be eliminated within the cruel machine of Homeworld. One day beyond the battlefield, the so-called Great Diamond Authority will see no further use in their existence, and then they’ll be purged. Harvested for scrap. Trapped within a myriad of Gem-powered objects. Crushed and used within their drop ships for fuel. 

It’s pure tyranny. 

Thus, she refuses to let their cruelty stand without a just fight. They have to give these Gems a chance beyond Homeworld’s rule, because abandoning them would be abandoning everything that their brave rebellion stands for, that she stands for. She refuses to stand powerless and idle in the face of a Diamond’s commands like the Sapphire and Ruby she once was, refuses to let another tragedy slip by without at least attempting to mend its damage. She is Garnet, she is freedom, and she is love.

And deep within her core, she believes these soon-to-emerge soldiers deserve the same opportunity for renewal and hope as any other Crystal Gem.

 __

For all Ruby’s aware, a whole geological era could have passed between that fateful moment she first set eyes on Jasper and the shards-late arrival of Amethyst and the others. All three of them duck behind the low rock formations she’s hiding in the shade of, Steven still breathing heavily from the no-doubt harried and concerned exertion of their sprint towards her. Hard light coursing from the gem in her palm to all other extremities at random intervals amidst crackling cinders of immobilizing terror, (she’s almost surprised her form isn’t flickering at this point), she desperately attempts to babble an explanation. She’ll admit— it’s not a particularly coherent one. Ask her mere minutes later, and there’s little chance she’ll be able to repeat what she said. Heck, she’s not confident about her words now, in the heat of the moment. It’s probably something about holes, something about injector scrap, about all those Gem monsters, a-and—

"Whoa, what the heck!” Amethyst blessedly interrupts, raising her head above the rocks and pointing across the clearing at the orange and red striped quartz diligently prowling the area like a true squadron leader. “Jasper’s here, too? Did everyone decide to skip on over to Beta today, or somethin’?!”

Peridot’s face scrunches in confusion as she regards her former mission partner.  “What is she doing?”

“She’s got all those corrupted Gems in cages,” Steven murmurs with realization, a tiny spark of outrage lighting up behind his eyes on those creatures’ behalf. “They’re not even bubbled, they’re just… trapped, and scared!”

Ruby brings her fist to her mouth, nervously nibbling at her fingers for a moment to anchor herself back to this present. Above all else, ignoring every thread of trepidation and insecurity she bears, there’s one burning question that pulses at her core with an unmatched luminosity about this whole scenario:

“B-but why would she want so many corrupted Gems in the first place? Doesn’t she know she can’t tame them?”

The purple quartz growls, the fringe of her hair casting a dark and menacing shadow over her features as she tilts her head down and glares at her self-proclaimed rival. “I don’t think she knows nothin’.”

And as— instinctively, mistakenly, running off of over five thousand years of deep engrained habit— she attempts to open her third eye towards the winding tributaries of potential futures they may soon find themselves wading through and fails, it slowly dawns on her just how isolated and lost they all are, without Sapphire’s sight. Without her love.

“Neither do I…” she says softly, her stature shrinking in the throes of that suffocating inadequacy. Riding an abrupt wave of frustration, she slams her foot into the coarse dirt, gripping thick chunks of her coily hair between her fingers. “Aughhh, this is a terrible time to not have future vision!” she huffs, spitting out each word staccato.

“Pipe down!” Jasper hollers at the poor corrupted Gem cornered in the distance as she kicks one of the bars of its cage, her booming voice easily reverberating off the cliffs’ curvature.

All four of them can’t help but bite back their gasps upon this clamoring startle. Peeking her head just above the rim of the rocky outcropping, Ruby watches the fur covered quartz visibly shrink back at the soldier’s command. Jasper continues, her unwavering act of confidence currently undeterred by this reaction. 

“You take orders from me now. You used to be a quartz too, didn’t you? What happened to you?”

Utterly failing to comprehend any of her words in this vulnerable, animalistic state, the corrupted Gem merely snaps its fangs at the bars, and then tilts its head sideways to begin chewing on one of them. Jasper scoffs, her lips rising in a mild sneer. Taking the risk to edge closer, she continues to verbally berate the poor thing, talking the same sort of smack Ruby’s former Homeworld commanding officer, Condor Agate, used to dish out. Ruby grinds her teeth together so hard as she watches this display that the pressure and heat alone might be enough to form a brand new batch of Gems. Jasper even finds a moment to rope Amethyst into her insults, which almost has the stone in question summoning her whip in pure unfiltered fury. It’s only Steven and Peridot’s quick clutch on her shoulders that holds her back from steamrolling into the clearing with zero preparation and potentially making a terrible mistake. Still, she’s gotta admit, the temptation to whoop this Homeworld brute’s butt right this minute is devilishly hard to resist.

Ruby growls, one of her gauntlets emerging into existence on her clenched fist with a burst of light. “Oh-hoh, do I wanna launch this baby right into her dumb, chalky face…!”

“But maybe first we should go back to the temple and grab reinforcements?” Peridot whispers hastily, whirling around to face her. Panic visibly tightens its grip on her form with each passing second. 

She pauses a moment to let the logic of this suggestion sink in, gaze hardened, and self-consciously aware of how her fellow Gems are (wrongfully) looking towards her as their leader in this chaos. What options do they even have? They can choose to fight, that’s one. They could disengage. They could retreat to Beach City and seek backup. If they were truly desperate, they could surrender. (Although she’s not confident Jasper would gracefully accept anyone’s defeat, not until it ended with their poofed— maybe even shattered— gemstones littering the coarse sand.)

As the gears are still pirouetting in her mind, she turns towards Steven, who nods in vehement agreement of Peridot’s strategy, his mouth stretched thin.

Sighing with frustration, she loosens her grip, recalling how even Garnet was barely able to match up with Jasper’s might. “Yeah, you’re right. She’d beat us into the dirt without Pearl or Sapphire.”

“Okay, so far we got three votes for retreat,” he says, holding up the appropriate number of digits as a visual. “Amethyst?”

In sync, the trio turn towards where the quartz just stood and find nothing but faint granules of recently upended dust filtering through a beam of sunlight. Both Peridot and Steven let out a fearful squeak at her absence.

“W-where is she?” the former Homeworld technician cries, craning her neck over the top of the rock formation to try and secure a visual.

“Up there!” Steven exclaims under his breath, pointing at a ridge a good ten feet above them that crosses from the arched entrance of this natural amphitheater all the way to the other side where Jasper stands, her back still turned to them.

Following the path of his index finger, Ruby catches a flash of purple, black and lavender stealthily advancing along the narrow rim towards the very soldier who reportedly poofed her with a single strike about a week back. The light sustaining her form nearly drains from all her limbs and rushes back to her gem. 

“Oh, shards no…”

Stars above, what the hell is her problem? she thinks, her mind riding in a narrow track between exacerbated vexation and dread. Does she have a death wish, or something?? Surely the last place a rational person would choose to run is directly into the arms of the Gem who clobbered them into a senseless cloud at their last meeting. Surely a rational person would instead choose to retreat and regroup. However, as she glumly reflects upon the dour happenings of the past few days, Amethyst’s actions prove she’s currently unable to think rationally about Jasper or any other kind of conflict. She’s been markedly sullen at everyone around her ever since she first got her butt whooped. Obsessed with her private training sprees. Emotionally stand-offish. Prone to making rash decisions, like letting her mouth run off at poor hapless Steven about matters that aren’t his fault, or slashing her whip right at people’s feet to push them away, or… or rushing directly towards Jasper in an enclosed space with little to no backup just because she’s desperate to show her up for the sake of her own self-worth, or whatever.

And Ruby gets it, to an extent. She understands how cripplingly powerless it can feel to be written off as ‘the weak one,’ as nothing but an expendable. She understands the vivid temptation to let one’s anger drive such antagonistic confrontations. However, she’d also like to believe that she carries enough self respect in this gem to not throw herself right on an enemy’s anvil. Whether or not Amethyst possesses the same level of restraint is another question entirely. She flexes nervous, twitchy fingers at her side as she watches her dear friend creep further along the rim, ever closer to what she fears will be her unquestionable demise. 

With the corrupted Gem’s racket still occupying Jasper’s undivided attention, Amethyst leaps from the cliff’s edge and into the clearing, pulling her whip from her gem in midair. The moment her toes touch the ground again, she slashes its barbed ends at the bars of the cage, right next to the quartz soldier’s hand. Jasper yanks her digits back. Her entire body snaps tense upon this disruption. Watching from behind their rocky cover, Ruby, Steven, and Peridot bite back the urge to gasp in shock. 

“HEY!” Amethyst yells, lowering on her haunches right behind her opponent. 

Now, there’s obviously no way to prove it without somehow obtaining intimate knowledge of her headspace, but upon external observation, Ruby swears that this big, buff Beta Kindergarten quartz is masking surprise. The sentiment is visible in the alignment of her shoulders, lifted high and tight against her neck. It’s visible in her narrow stance, light years away from the proper form of a soldier expecting battle. Flexing her thick, dexterous fingers at her side, she makes a blatant show of puffing out her chest before she turns to face her challenger, an almost predatory smile curving upwards on her lips as she regards her.

“You back away from her,” Amethyst hisses, nodding towards the Gem in the cage.

Jasper lets out a hearty chuckle. “Oh-hoh, what do we have here? You finally decide to crawl back for a rematch, runt?”

She grits her teeth, tightening her fist around the pommel of her weapon. “That’s right. I’m back, and I’mma wipe you all over these cliffs!”

“Perfect,” her opponent practically purrs, cracking her knuckles in anticipation. “I’ve been needing a light warmup.”

 __

Rose approves her mission without question, when she first brings her the idea. Of course she would, in retrospect— the hidden diamond she was. 

Garnet takes forty of her fellow soldiers and friends with her to the Beta Kindergarten. They don’t wield any weapons. These Gems are brand new, stepping into the light for the very first time. There’s no need to threaten them; all she wants is to peacefully talk, to introduce them to the concept of freedom, of choosing their own path beyond the Diamonds’ rule. 

At the time, all she wanted was to follow her beloved leader’s example and choose peace and harmony over subjugation and brutality.

But with the bitter truths they know now, and reflecting upon the horrid atrocities they themselves participated in amidst the war… despite Rose’s self-proclaimed ‘pacifism,’ despite the shaky justifications of their cause being different than Homeworld’s brand of violence... she’s increasingly unsure if any of them ever had a choice.

 __

Tragically, it only takes mere seconds for the initial triumphant beats of Amethyst’s war against Jasper to devolve into a one-sided thrashing. 

With a mighty, almost frenzied yell, Amethyst moves one foot forward for counterbalance and slings the weighted, barbed tip of her weapon directly at her opponent’s face. Jasper catches it midair, mere inches from her gem. An arrogant smile paints her visage. After winding the whip’s end around her hand, she yanks its user towards her with a snap of her wrist, swings her in a wide arc, and effortlessly slams her into the nearest cliff wall, blowing up a huge plume of pulverized rock and dust. It all happens so fast that the rest of the party barely has any time to react. As the rubble settles, Ruby finally spots her friend amidst the chaos, collapsed on hands and knees in the dirt. The poor Gem’s hands are nearly trembling as she vies to rise to her feet again, vies to stand her ground and keep fighting. 

There’s only one thing she knows for sure, watching all this: if hard light were consumable rather than indelible, she would quite literally be chipping away at her knuckles with her teeth by now.

His expression blown wide with fear, Steven breaks their communal silence to holler Amethyst’s name. Hands flexing in and out of fists, he darts away from their hiding spot. And they tried to stop him, they really did— it’s simply that he’s far too nimble for either of them to catch in time.

“Steven!” Peridot cries, trying and failing to grab his hand to hold him back.

“Steven, no!” Ruby yells, arms outstretched, as he sprints into the clearing— entirely blowing any remaining amount of cover the three of them had, placing his gem at Jasper’s mercy, and causing a thousand living nightmares to flood into her consciousness in but a millisecond. “Come back!!”

“Wait! Wait,” he gasps, waving his arms wildly to catch the larger quartz’s attention as he passes into the center of this natural coliseum, firmly planting himself at Amethyst’s side. “Stop! We don’t need to do this!”

Giving a growl that would rival that of a corrupted Gem’s, Ruby clenches her fingers around thick coils of her hair at either side of her head and yanks. “Aughh, why does nobody listen to me when I’m short??” 

A faint trail of glowing embers marks a record of her path as she leaves Peridot by their rocky outcropping and storms right into the open after him. Oh, hoh, hoh— that boy can disobey her clear, simple orders all he wants, but in his folly he’s forgetting one very important fact: rubies are stubborn Gems. And she’ll fight to protect him from the crossfire of Jasper’s hubris and Amethyst’s self-destruction even if that means braving her deepest terrors to run out there and drag him back to safety herself.

(Ideally, she’d be able to drag Amethyst with her out of the thunderdome as well, but she’s also quite the stubborn one. So try as she may, that’s not likely to happen.)

Ruby strides towards the middle of the clearing and defiantly plants her feet in the sterile soil right in front of Steven, and adjacent to Amethyst. She summons her gauntlets, her features twisting in a scowl. “Stand down and let them go!” she shouts up at that bulky orange quartz with all the Garnet-like confidence she can muster. “This is not a Homeworld controlled planet!”

“Steven, Ruby, get out of here!” Amethyst hisses under her breath, her battle-ready stance solidifying with a strange mixture of apprehension and anger as she regards the two of them.

“No!” she shoots back, tugging at her arm. “Come on, you know I can’t just leave you here.”

Jasper’s molten amber eyes narrow, her steely gaze colliding right into her.

“ You,” she says, enunciated as sharp as a dagger. “One half of that vile war machine.”

“War machine?!” Steven cries, distraught by the very implication. “She’s not a war machine! Garnet fuses for love!”

“Yeah!” Ruby jabs her fist in the air loud and proud.

The Homeworld warrior scoffs, seemingly not impressed by their display of solidarity. She folds her arms solid across the Yellow Diamond insignia emblazoned upon her chest and steps closer to address her directly. “And where’s this love now?” she spits, mockingly stooping to her level.

And despite the faint, triumphant memories of her last incursion with this quartz, (well… Garnet’s last incursion), she can’t help but cower in her presence, can’t help but crumble like the deficient sandstone of this very kindergarten under the cruel, personalized precision of her blunt words. Because... she’s right. Because that’s the whole problem, the pulsing heart of life’s cruel game. Fusion offered her a tantalizing taste of freedom, a glimpse of a reality where, together, a lowly guard and her sapphire could achieve literally anything through the strength of their love!— but that world feels like nothing more but an unobtainable mirage now. She’s absolutely useless on her own, just some pathetic waste of resources! No authority, no power, no wisdom of foresight— she brings nothing to the Crystal Gems’ cause. She never did. It was always her. Tears bead at her widening eyes, her gauntleted fists already beginning to tremble at her sides. 

“I-I…”

“Where’s any of your power now?” Jasper continues as she raises back to her full height, lifting both open hands towards the empty, cloud-streaked skies. She throws her head back as she offers them all a bright, boastful chuckle. “To think I used to view you traitors as a threat, but now even your disgraceful cause is falling apart, isn’t it… Rose?”

Still standing a step behind her, Steven’s immediate reply brims with tones of frustration. “I’m not—“

“But you’re wrong!” a high, familiar voice urgently calls out from behind them all. 

This whole messy confrontation breaks to a halt as everyone turns to gape at the lone Gem poking her head out above the rocky outcropping. Peridot gasps at the sudden influx of attention, and hastily ducks for cover again. 

“What are YOU doing here?” Jasper growls with annoyance, grinding one of her feet in the dirt as if inwardly hoping she could shift the very earth they stand on and finally gain the advantage of surprise once more.

“I-I…” the green Gem stammers, slowly creeping out from her hiding spot, summoning newfound confidence as she lays her eyes on each and every one of her friends. “I’m here because our cause hasn’t fallen apart! We live on Earth to be free, to learn new things about ourselves. Like how I can bend metal to my bidding!” she exclaims, tossing enthusiastic fists into the air.

On the cliff face over twenty feet away, a skinny length of metal from one of the injector’s legs slips from the device, falls straight down, and noisily clatters as it collides against the rocky soil. Amethyst facepalms. Meanwhile, Jasper appears so underwhelmed by this display that in any other circumstance, her glazed-over expression could be comedic.

Peridot briefly scowls at her botched handiwork. “And sure,” she shrugs, nodding towards that shard of metal, “nothing’s ever perfect here, but together, we work to help and support each other, just like we’re supporting Amethyst now. Isn’t that freedom worth fighting for?”

A few beats pass as the heart of this proclamation sinks in, the ticking seconds seeing Steven beam in pride at his friend’s progression since the beginning of her stay on Earth, and Jasper’s features scrunch inwards in an almost sour manner. Between the stifling roots of her own despair, even Ruby herself can’t help but feel a little uplifted by this hopeful sentiment. It’s a well-timed salve to an old burn, a naive yet ultimately truthful promise of lighthearted days to come. After all, hasn’t her time as a Crystal Gem taught her by now that no circumstance is permanent? That a single unifying cause can collapse empires like a wildfire, can continually reshape one’s entire understanding of existence? Her gauntleted hands shift at her side as a new spark of timid confidence ignites at her core. What was she thinking, letting this brute of a quartz tower over her and define the very pillars of her own story? She’s better than this. For the very sake of her friends she has to be!

But alas, before this newfound bravery can see its hour of triumph on this secluded battlefield, she finds herself once again cast aside by one of the very friends she’s vying to protect.

Amethyst growls in frustration at their continued presence, and summons her weapon. “UGH, you GUYS!” She slashes its barbed tips against the cliff face right above Peridot, not close enough to hit her, but certainly with enough force that it spooks her into diving behind the low rock formation again. Scowling, she then turns and plucks an actively protesting Steven right off the ground. “Get out of here!” she yells, tossing him back towards the clearing’s entrance. “This isn’t your fight!”

Ruby gives a sharp yelp as she just barely leaps backwards to dodge the business end of her whip, swinging low in a vain attempt to tangle up her feet. “Hey—!”

“It’s just you and me, Jasper,” the purple quartz breathes heavily, and abruptly whirls around to jab her finger towards her opponent. “ONE-ON-ONE!”

Silently, a consenting smirk riding over her lips, the taller Gem summons her ramming helmet in a glittering flash of light.

 __

The mission is— in the terms of the brave humans they sometimes fight alongside— a bloodbath. 

When they first warped in, Garnet only expected to find a small handful of disoriented jaspers, citrines, and carnelians roaming about. Gems they could talk to. Gems they could reason with, just as Rose reasoned with her fellow quartzes at the very start of this bold rebellion. Instead, what emerges soon after their arrival is more shocking and unpredictable than any future Garnet could’ve ever visualized.

Bursting from the very heart of this slapdash, rushed Kindergarten, despite every single locational and structural disadvantage this place stacks against one’s favor, is Her.

The strongest, most perfectly formed jasper she’s ever laid eyes on. She’s seven feet tall, built as solid as diamond, her flawlessly faceted gemstone gleaming bright and proud in the rising sun. She wastes no time in following the miserable orders the Great Diamond Authority cruelly embedded deep within her soul, immediately calling the hundreds of scattered and confused off-color Gems surrounding her to action.

Garnet and her squadron simply don’t have enough time to intervene, to try and settle this skirmish halfway peacefully. They don’t have the numbers. 

Twenty three Crystal Gems are shattered that day. Numerous more on both sides are cracked or poofed.

And yet one of the greatest tragedies, in her mind… is that these emergent Gems never got the proper chance to consider any purpose beyond their assigned station. Never got a chance to glimpse the promise of their own freedom. 

Everything happened so fast. 

She took this place for granted— thanks to her own preconceived notions about the kinds of Gems that could emerge here, utterly failed to foresee this potential turn of events— and in the end it cost lives. Both those of her fellow Crystal Gems, her friends … and those of the Beta quartzes she failed to save from Homeworld’s damaging influence.

That night, as she bitterly weeps for the recovered shards of the beloved they lost, clenches her gauntleted fists tight around her gemstones, she vows to never let such a harrowing tragedy escape her vision again. No more.

A leader like her is not allowed to fail.

 __

With the mighty roar of a lion, Amethyst stamps her leading foot to the ground to center her balance and rears her weapon-wielding arm back, wholly intending to defend her pride from this boorish bully. The first and second slashes are fruitful, one striking Jasper in the face, and the next hitting her chest with such intense force that it slams her into the cliff wall a few feet back, but Ruby can’t help but dread the litany of unknown possibilities haunting their future as she watches, powerless in her lack of second sight to influence their present. Could Amethyst win this fight? Sure. There’s gotta be at least one river of time where that occurs, where Jasper is so wrapped up within that facade of insufferable hubris that she fails to take her seriously as an opponent and pays the price. But on the other hand, she senses so many chinks in Amethyst’s armor that she can’t help but fear the opposite. She’s blinded by her anger, unable to consider consequence rationally. Her form in battle— compared to her usual performance— is notably sloppy, as if she’s throwing herself at this fight with such an explosion of tangled, raw emotion that her years of training and refinement have all but melted away in the inferno. Her fingers are trembling as she tightens her grasp on the whip’s pommel.

All of this stated, Ruby may not possess the gift of Sapphire’s future vision, but she has more than enough experience on patrol and on the battlefield to recognize a soldier who is woefully unprepared for a fight. Something terrible is about to happen, she can just feel it.

“Be careful!!” she cries, cupping her hands around her mouth.

“It’s fine, she’s totally rocking this!” Steven says with a huge grin, seeming uncharacteristically calm, given the circumstances. He whoops, and punches his fist in the air. “Go Amethyst!”

Ruby and Peridot briefly match eyes, the noted concern in their gazes pointing towards the fact that they both think that Amethyst’s insistence to fight is reckless and naive. In retrospect, of course her friend would agree with her. She spent a lot of time cohabiting with Jasper on their journey to Earth, so she’s bound to be well aware of her fundamental nature.

At the moment however, given the shorter quartz’s tunnel vision, she’s certain that any of their valid concerns would fall upon deaf ears. 

“Who’s weak now, huh?” Amethyst spits from across the clearing, flicking her wrist to activate the triplet spiked balls at the ends of her whip, an upgrade gifted by Bismuth she surprisingly hasn’t seemed to have abandoned. With a holler, she swings her leading arm back and around to build up momentum and then slashes at Jasper’s chest three times in succession. The last hit comes with enough force to push her backwards in the dirt a few feet. “Who’s powerless NOW?!”

Then, just as Ruby fearfully predicted, the winds shift. 

The firestorm doubles back upon them, Jasper merely swatting the flail ends away like they were nothing more but a momentary nuisance. Her expression narrows into a scowl. Emergent shock mingles alongside the dark cloud of Amethyst’s anger like wayward lightning bolts as she growls in frustration, the side-swept fringe of her hair shadowing her features. In retaliation she summons a second whip and immediately slashes them both against the soil, endowing them with a crackling, purple-tinged energy, almost a fire of her own making. She tucks into a ball and literally hurls herself at the quartz warrior, her form only recognizable in the heat of that moment via a dazzling blaze of light.

The resulting collision throws up so much dirt and smoke that Ruby has to throw her small body in front of Steven’s to shield him from the worst of the debris. 

When the thick curtains of dust finally part, the consequences of this overly-impulsive move are revealed. Jasper still stands proud and tall, her mettle unaffected by this attempted show of strength. Barely a scuff even marrs her uniform. Meanwhile, Amethyst lays hunched over on hands and knees, hacking up fragmented remnants of sandstone she likely swallowed amidst the impact. (Alas, that’s the price she pays for choosing to always reform with an semi-operational digestive system.)

“Is it sinking in yet?” Jasper queries pointedly, advancing towards the trembling Gem on the ground.

Amethyst is so exhausted she can’t even muster the strength to respond, her arms quivering beneath her as she vies to hold up the simulated weight of her hard light form.

Her foe roughly kicks her in the chest, her foot striking mere inches under her gem. Ruby visibly cringes at both the shallow huff of distress that this hit elicits from her, and Steven’s cries of fear in response. 

“It doesn’t matter how long or hard you fight,” Jasper boasts, her imposing figure hovering like a bad omen over her quartz sibling’s, “because I’ll always be stronger! Runts like you never had a chance. Runts like you are worthless.”

Angrily, she grinds her teeth together, cradling the vulnerable gemstone on her hand. 

Worthless.

Worthless.

Who the hell does this square hunk of stone think she is, slinging such heavy-handed words around like the blunt end of a mallet?

“Get your worthless, sorry forms back in formation!” wretched old Condor Agate used to scream at her and the others in her squad, back when she spent eternity guarding empty corridors, back before she was eventually reassigned to Sapphire’s personal guard. “You’re an embarrassment to your commanding agates, all of you!”

Ruby growls, finding her resolve. That’s it. No more. She can’t bear to stand at the sidelines gripped in fear while some bully is literally beating her friend into the ground, both physically and emotionally. She can’t bear for Amethyst to fall prey to the same type of unwavering torment she herself experienced all those years ago on Homeworld, torment that utterly deformed her sense of self-worth until recognizing any ounce of good in herself became a gargantuan, near-impossible task. Admittedly, she still hasn’t healed from those days. Not entirely. Sometimes she’s unsure she ever will. But it’s her duty to put an end to this, to what’s happening in the here and now. After all, what’s the point of being a Crystal Gem if you don’t look after the people you love?

“We have to separate them,” she says firmly, turning towards Steven and Peridot. “She’s gonna get clobbered!”

The former kindergartener’s expression warps to despair under her visor. “But how? She doesn’t even want us to be here! And none of us are strong enough to face Jasper…”

“Could we make a distraction?” Steven suggests, his voice tinged with the same sort of urgency she feels thrumming like a frantic drum line at the depths of her core.

Humming in thought, Ruby considers the status quo. To no success, she attempts to ignore her friends’ expectant gazes, trustingly falling upon her exactly like all those fellow rebellion soldiers used to look at Garnet… as their de facto leader. But she’s no leader, far from it. Garnet would barely have to think before coming up with a genius, foolproof plan, but she’s going into everything blind. She can’t weigh out potential consequences before rushing into action. She has no ability to pinpoint the most ideal outcome and work backwards from there. With all this in mind, it’s really no wonder that Garnet passed command of the group to Pearl instead of her. At least Pearl has experience leading missions solo.

And yet desperate times call for desperate measures.

She scans their surroundings for inspiration, considering what options may be open to them. At this point there’s no time to double back to the barn or the temple for reinforcements. (And she strongly doubts Lapis would care to so much as match eyes with Jasper, anyways.) One or more of them could always charge into the fray to attempt and break up this small skirmish by force, but that would risk their safety, too. The last thing she wants is to knowingly throw her friends into harm’s way. No, the best option would be breaking the two quartzes up using something in their immediate environment, something large and heavy but capable of being quickly moved, something like...

Her eyes snap wide. “That injector!” she whispers excitedly, pointing to the hulking piece of junked equipment precariously hanging from the cliff wall, only stabilized by a few legs that still penetrate the cracked sandstone. “It’s right above them. If we knocked it down, then maybe…”

Peridot flashes a hopeful smile, and nods.

“We’re on it,” Steven says, summoning his shield. The two of them glance at each other, perhaps silently coordinating their plan, and then leap into action.  

“Metal powers activate!” she exclaims, and throws her hands up in the direction of that rusted injector. 

Subtly but noticeable, its legs begin to shift and creak under the force of her ferrokinesis, loosening from the eroding stone. Licking his lips, Steven aims his weapon and hurls. It strikes the device directly at its center, clanging against solid metal. The injector wobbles for a moment, its delicate balance obviously destabilized by this force, and then begins to slide free from the porous kindergarten wall. One still-impacted leg snaps under the torque as the cylinder’s immense weight plummets towards the ground.

“Heads up!” Steven calls out, causing a bemused Jasper to flick her gaze skyward, towards the falling object staining the soil with an ever-growing shadow.

The collision of the junky old injector almost appears like a small explosion, flinging dirt a good ten feet into the air and resolutely separating the two quartzes. But Ruby barely has time to high five Peridot and celebrate their success before the kid she’s supposed to be keeping safe darts off into the clearing once more. She hisses a small curse under her breath. Drat, of course he’d run straight to Amethyst’s side again at his first opportunity! She should’ve seen that coming a whole star system away. At least Jasper’s been temporarily marooned on the other side of that busted Gem tech, though.

The real question is, for how long? 

Nibbling at her lip, she hastily sprints towards the edge of the injector to keep a watchful eye on their opponent as Steven attempts to have a mid-battlefield heart-to-heart. (At least, that’s what she assumes he’s doing. Admittedly, they kinda failed to hammer out the fine details of their plan before sprinting into action. Her fault.) Thankfully though, at first glimpse it seems the impact’s force has effortlessly knocked Jasper clear off her feet. She seems slightly dazed, but beyond that remains unscathed. Time will only tell if this strategy was a beneficial one. Briefly turning back towards the group, Ruby watches Steven crouch next to Amethyst. She’s muttering something to him, she thinks— her expression raw with fresh tears— but her words are far too hushed to make out. Whatever she shares, however, it’s clearly enough to elicit a strong emotional reaction from her companion.

“No, no!”  he pleads, hurt painting his features. “My mom- Rose, she doesn’t matter. Whatever Jasper thinks doesn’t matter. She's the only one who thinks you should be like her!”

“But-”

“Stop trying to be like Jasper. You're nothing like Jasper! You're like me!”

“But even you’re different!” she explodes at first, but any anger present in her form immediately evaporates into something more innately hesitant, more self-conscious. Her fingers claw thick troughs into the reddened soil as she curls them inwards. “I’m not like you at all, I’m not some di—”

“No, that’s not the point!” he says, tears of his own budding at the corners of his eyes. “You’re like me because we’re both not like anybody. And yeah, it sucks. Everyone always expects us to be someone we’re not, but you know what? At least I've always got you. And you've got me! So stop leaving me out of this!”

Slowly pushing herself to her feet behind the junked injector, Jasper groans, her voice strained with newfound exhaustion Ruby never imagined she possessed. 

“Y’guys, she’s getting up!” she calls out to her friends behind her, equally a warning as it is a call to action. After all, if this bold stunt finally managed to crack through the first layer of their opponent’s armor, then they might genuinely stand a chance now.

She’ll never know if they heard her, though— because in the same split second she turns back to check on them, the now embracing pair is engulfed in a blinding white light.

Even in the absence of a soldier's fire, everything turns to smoke.

#su #steven universe #ruby #amethyst #jasper #peridot #su fanfiction #my writing stuff #crack the paragon

[radiantroope]

Lonely Heart || Rafe Cameron

Chapter Four - Tainted Love

chapter summary: Janelle comes over to talk and starts to show her true colors. You and John B. go surfing where he gets you to open up to him about your mom. An unlikely friend saves you from falling into what seems like a trap.

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of familial death, a beer is mentioned

word count: 4.3k+

author’s note: yeah uhhh don’t hate me for this lol. i wanna fight her too. as always, please leave me some feedback and let me know if you’re enjoying this series <3

read chapter three here!

series playlist | series masterlist | main masterlist

You didn’t leave the house much. You didn’t want to risk running into Rafe or Janelle anywhere. Topper had dropped by a couple of times just to check on you and see how your mother was doing. Sarah was over the most, refusing to let you waste away in your room by yourself. She was going back to school at Chapel Hill, splitting her time between the mainland and the island. You’d tried to insist she didn’t have to come over every other day, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer. ‘You’re my best friend. You can try and shut everyone else out, but not me.’ she’d said.

Your mother had an appointment that day to have a brain MRI. They wanted to check the tumor and make sure the chemotherapy was helping slow the growth or at least keep the tumor at bay for the time being. Her form of cancer was aggressive and there was a chance the chemo would only work for so long. Eventually the tumor would stop reacting to it and continue growing rapidly. Your parents told you the visit was boring and you’d be in the waiting room the whole time so they made you stay home.

You stared at the fresh cup of tea in front of you, robotically dipping the tea bag in and out of the scalding water. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Rafe, as much as you tried not to think about him. You couldn’t comprehend why he’d ghosted you and started dating your best friend. Was he ashamed of loving her and feared you’d think you were replaced? Truthfully, it is how you felt. He pushed you out and made more room for Janelle in his life, letting her fill a place you thought would always be yours.

Your whole perspective on your life was forced to change. The dreams and goals you’d had when you were younger, picturing Rafe by your side, you’d instead achieved and chased by yourself. You went to college parties and drowned yourself in booze to ignore how wrong it felt being there. You had mindlessly hooked up with fraternity douchebags, hoping it would fill the void in your chest. It never did. You had tried to go on dates with guys who were so sweet and nothing short of gentlemen, but none of them managed to wow you. They weren’t rough around the edges with just enough attitude to keep you in check. They were soft, men you could walk all over and they’d let you. They weren’t Rafe. You hated yourself for comparing them all to him, but he was all you’d ever known. He was all you ever wanted.

Guilt started eating away at you for focusing so much on the boy who unknowingly broke your heart. Your mother was dying for God’s sake. You should be putting all of your attention on her and making sure she was happy in what was going to be the last year of her life. You were upset with yourself for being so angry with her for not telling you about the engagement. It wasn’t their fault your closest friends were a couple of backstabbers.

The shrill ring of the doorbell ripped you from your thoughts. You abandoned the now cold cup of tea at the coffee table, sock clad feet sliding across the hardwood as you moved through the house. You glanced down at the oversized shirt you were wearing, biker shorts poking out underneath. You had a feeling your unruly hair was sticking out in all directions from the bun it was in but couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

The moment you ripped the front door open, you tried to slam it right back closed. Bile rose in your throat as you pushed against their body, growling, “Get the fuck off my porch.”

“I’m here to talk, Y/N, please!” Janelle protested, trying to look at you through the crack in the white painted door without having it crushed. “Just give me ten minutes.”

You hesitated, pausing against the door. Words couldn’t describe how hurt you were that she’d kept this from you for years. She had been one of your best friends. She knew things about you that your own parents didn’t know — that Rafe himself didn’t know. Could it hurt to at least try and hear her out?

You finally pulled the door open, avoiding her striking green eyes and waving your arm out to let her in. You shut the door loudly behind her and moved to the couch. “Ten minutes,” you stated, sitting at one end while she took a spot on the other.

“How’s your mom?” she started, giving you a sad smile.

You shrugged once, responding monotonously with, “Fine.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” Janelle said softly, seemingly sincere as she stared at her lap. You kept quiet and didn’t show any change in emotion on your face, so she continued, “I should have told you. The second things changed with Rafe and I, I should have come to you about it.”

You closed your eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply as to collect your thoughts. There were a million things you could say to her right now, most more unpleasant than others. You sighed, “You knew how much I loved him, Janelle. You were the only person I told. Do you understand how much of a slap to the face this is?”

“I know. I broke, like, the first rule in girl code. I suck,” she replied, shaking her head a bit. She had been avoiding your eyes but looked back over, “We didn’t expect it, you know. It just kind of… happened. Things were really rough for both of us for a while and I guess it made us closer. We were able to connect on a deeper level.”

You stared at her, unable to read the expression on her face. You couldn’t pinpoint one sort of emotion swimming in her eyes. A weight settled on your shoulders, something within you feeling unnerved.

“Do you love him?”

There it was, a smile. The first real emotion the dark haired girl had shown you since she stepped foot in the house. Did she even care about you at all? Did she care that this was ripping you apart inside? “Of course I do. I wouldn’t have said yes to marrying him if I didn’t,” her response lit a fire within your chest, spreading through every nerve ending in your body.

“Then why did you never seem interested in him before?” you questioned, watching the creases form between her eyebrows. “You chased after Kelce for two years without giving up. You never once gave any indication that you were remotely interested in Rafe until I left, apparently.”

You were simmering in pent up anger and betrayal, jealousy sitting just below the surface. Though, you kept yourself calm, refusing to let those emotions through. You knew Janelle like the back of your hand and you knew there was more to this. You wanted to push her until she said exactly what she was thinking. The slow contort of her face into an angry scowl proved to you that it was working.

“You don’t just wake up one day and decide, hm, I’m in love with this person now, Janelle. How do you even know if what you have is real?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t so conceited and wrapped up in yourself you would have noticed,” Janelle spit, the olive toned tan to her face turning a light shade of pink. “Everyday I had to listen to you bitch and moan about how he’d never love you back. All you did was cry because you were too scared to tell him how you felt. I always loved him but you always made everything about you.”

You blood boiled under your skin. Your face became hot and you clenched your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking. Your bottom lip was sure to start bleeding soon with how tightly you bit it between your teeth.

“You weren’t there for the fights with Ward, when he called him names and made him feel less than. You weren’t there for the nights he got black out drunk because he wanted to forget. You weren’t there for the fucking cocain addiction that almost ruined his whole life,” Janelle seethed, leaning closer to you with every word she spoke.

Your jaw clenched painfully as you grit out, “How was I supposed to be there when he’s the one who cut me out of his life?”

“He cut you out of his life to send you a message, Y/N!” Janelle shouted through a laugh, a condescending smile settling on her lips. “He was so happy when you moved to California because he was finally free! He wasn’t being suffocated by you anymore!”

“That’s not true,” you whispered, shaking your head quickly. Your mind flashed back to your going away party. The soft voices and gentle touches. The way he looked at you like you were the only person he had eyes for — at least that’s what you thought.

“It is, and the sooner you accept that, the better. Rafe doesn’t love you,” the raven haired girl stated. Your glossy eyes flickered to hers. The bright green in them was gone and replaced with a cold, mossy color. “He never loved you. He never will love you the way you’re so desperate for him to. You moving was the best thing that ever happened to him — to us.”

You stayed seated on the couch as she got up and slung her entirely too large of a purse over her shoulder. Your eyes were full to brim with tears that you refused to let fall in front of her. You wouldn’t let her see how much this was ruining you. This wasn’t the girl you’d met back when you were ten years old, it was a completely different person. Or maybe she had been this person the whole time, and you had just been a pawn in some sick game. Only did you look at her when she opened the front door.

“And Y/N,” the sweet tone replaced the venomous one she used only moments ago. “Stay away from him. I don’t need you messing with his head before the wedding.”

The door slammed and you sat there, allowing the tears to flow down your flushed cheeks. You didn’t sob, you didn’t scream and throw things around like most would have thought. It was just a silent flow of saltiness that felt never ending. A numbing feeling came over you as you let Janelle’s words absorb into your head. Had you really been so blind by your own love for Rafe you never saw hers? Had you been so stupid to think the Kook Prince would fall for someone as ordinary as you?

You don’t know if it was only minutes or maybe hours that you sat on the couch, blankly staring at the wall. Eventually, you finally pulled yourself up and located your phone. There was one thing you knew would help you escape the depression spiral you were heading down. And there was one person you could call who would be willing to do it with you — despite hardly knowing you at all.

“Hello?” John B. sounded utterly confused as to why you were calling him.

“H-Hey, I uh, I know this is weird,” your voice was dry and you cleared your throat, “Do you, i dunno, maybe wanna go surfing with me?”

—

You sat on top of your board out where the water was calmer, watching John B. pull off an intricate trick with his own surfboard. You hummed in thought, wishing you could pull off some of the moves he did. You tended to just catch the biggest wave you could and ride it out for as long as possible. You’d picked up some things over the years, but just riding out a long wave was your favorite feeling. You loved the rush, like you were flying.

“You’re really good,” you complimented the brunette as he made his way back out to you.

“Thanks,” John B. chuckled, moving to straddle his board just as you were, “You’re pretty good at riding out the big ones. I bet I could get JJ to teach you some things. He’s better than I am.”

You laughed softly and shook your head, brushing your wet hair behind your back, “JJ would rather scrub Heyward’s boat to the bone than hang out with me.”

“He’s not that bad,” the Routledge boy tried to defend his friend. “Well, not anymore. He’s more… tolerant.”

You hummed in response, staring out into the open water where the edges curved at the horizon. The sun was beginning to go down, casting an orange glow over everything around you. John B. watched you, seeing the gears turning in your head. He’d barely seen you smile all day and from what Sarah had told him, surfing always made you happiest.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You turned to look at him, his soft hazel eyes saying It’s okay, you can trust me. You sighed heavily and averted your gaze to the purple and white board below you. You could feel that you wanted to cry again but your eyes remained dry, like you had nothing left in you. The hollow feeling in your chest felt like it was going to swallow you whole.

“You sure you want my demons weighing on your conscience?” you asked playfully, the corners of your mouth upturning slightly.

John B. smiled softly, shrugging a bit, “We all have our demons, Y/N. Some worse than others.”

You nodded and eyed him for a moment longer before asking, “What was it like.. to lose your dad?”

The curly haired boy sucked in a breath. It had been four years but it never got easier. His dad was all he had and then he was alone, still a child having to grow up entirely too fast. He let out a soft breath, “It was hard. I didn’t know what happened to him for nine months, and then to find out he was dead? It was like a part of me died with him.”

You nodded, silently listening along as he opened up to you.

“It was painful and ugly. I lashed out at my friends… It’s still painful sometimes. I try to think about the good things though. The fishing trips on his boat, going to work with him.. His horrendous endeavour to find The Royal Merchant,” he paused to laugh at the memory, and you did too. You’d heard enough stories about him and his friends searching for the lost gold as well. “I know he’s still with me. He watches over me. Your mom will too.”

You nodded again, bottom lip quivering slightly. Your voice was strained as you spoke, “It fucking sucks seeing her like this. Everyday I feel like I can tell she’s getting worse.”

“I regret not being around more the last couple of years. If I had known this was going to happen I would have done so many things differently.”

John B. waded his board closer to you, resting his hand on yours that was gripping your knee. His eyes were remorseful, lips turned down in a frown. His father’s death was sudden and unexpected. He understood your pain but he also had no idea how to handle knowing the inevitable was coming. He couldn’t imagine watching someone you love slowly slip away.

“Don’t think about that. Don’t beat yourself up for what you didn’t do or wish you did. Spend this time reminding your mom how much you love her and helping make these last moments she has some of the best. Make more memories with her that you’ll look back on and smile at,” he told you, squeezing your fingers softly.

You met John B.’s eyes again and nodded, giving him a soft smile. It was nice to talk to someone who didn’t exactly know you on that personal level but could also relate to you. He had experienced a loss like you were about to and it was refreshing to hear how he coped with it and get some advice. You wondered exactly how much Sarah had told him but it was nice that he was judging you. Maybe years ago, he would have thrown it back in your face, called you a snob and any other insult he could think of. Maybe it was dating Kook that changed his outlook, or he’d grown up and matured and realized the stupid rivalry wasn’t worth being a complete dick all the time.

John B. drifted away from you again when he saw you seemed more relaxed, he looked out where the sun was starting to dip below the horizon. He offered, “Why don’t you come back to the Chateau with me? Sarah’s coming over and I know she’s dying to get you to hang with us.”

You contemplated for a moment, unsure how inviting the other Pogues would be to another Kook in their company. But for once, getting out and being around other people sounded a lot better than going home and burying yourself in Ben and Jerry’s while binge watching a show you’d already seen. So you nodded and smiled, “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

—

Rafe didn’t listen to Topper’s advice of leaving you alone. He couldn’t pretend like seeing after all of these years wasn’t a sucker punch to the gut. He kept replaying everything over the course of five years in his head. He couldn’t stop thinking about what he could’ve done differently. The different outcomes of his actions replayed in his head like a broken record. What could have happened if he hadn’t cut you out of his life? Would you have ended up together in the end, despite the distance? Should he have told you how he felt that day, when it felt like your gentle touch was the only thing holding him together?

He traveled out onto the South side and watched from his truck as you and John B. left the beach. He thought about getting out and speaking to you there but instead he watched from the shadows as you strapped your surfboard to the top of your mother’s car and drove away behind the Volkswagen.

Against his better judgement, Rafe followed you. He stayed far enough behind that you wouldn’t recognize his truck. He knew his way to the Routledge boy’s house anyway. Many a night’s he had gone there when he was younger and looking for trouble, or when he got older, to pick up his sister when she didn’t have a ride. He knew that’s where you were heading. He would pretend it didn’t bother him slightly that you were hanging out with the Pogues. He’d grown more accustomed to seeing them around but the roots of the rivalry were still deeply embedded within him. He still thought they were at the bottom of the food chain.

You didn’t think much of the headlights that pulled up behind your car, thinking Sarah had just arrived. You dug around in the backseat, trying to gather the things that had spilled from your bag. The headlights shut off and it was quiet for a moment. You heard John B. curse softly and your heart nearly stopped when you heard the voice.

“Sup, John B.?” Rafe’s gruff voice filled the air, nodding his head at his sister’s boyfriend.

“Rafe,” the Routledge boy greeted back, an edge to his tone.

You slowly removed yourself from the car, turning to face the last person you wanted to see, next to Janelle. You hated the way your heart skipped a beat when his azure irises met yours. He swallowed thickly, waiting for you to make the first move, which you did.

“What are you doing here?”

“I- I uh,” Rafe’s hand came up to rub the back of his neck, eyes leaving yours to stare at the ground. “I don’t know. I wanted to see you.”

You scoffed and shook your head, reaching back into the car to get your bag. He hesitantly moved closer and continued, “I’m worried about you, Y/N. I know things are weird right now and I’m sorry about your mom but I-”

“Don’t,” you snapped, standing upright and slamming the car door, “Don’t pretend like you fucking care.”

“I do care. I just want to talk.”

“You had five years to talk, Rafe!” you shouted, voice shaking as you did so. You bit the inside of your lip and begged your body not to betray you. You didn’t need him seeing you cry. “I waited and waited for you to talk to me. I asked myself ‘why’ for years! You’ve moved on with your life, that’s fine, I can accept that. But don’t expect me to be a part of it anymore. Just go back to pretending I don’t exist.”

Even from a distance Rafe could see the glaze to your eyes. He could see your body shaking as you tried to keep yourself composed. It looked like you were about to fall apart in front of him and it made his chest ache. You always were the one to pretend to be strong for as long as you could until it crushed you. He shook his head and tried again, “Y/N, please, you don’t understa-”

“Yo, Rafe! Didn’t know you were stopping by!” you turned to see JJ Maybank bouncing down the porch steps, an arrogant smirk painted on his chapped lips. His unruly hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards baseball cap. He was shirtless, flaunting his physique in only a pair of grey cargo shorts. He’d heard you yelling and figured he may as well come investigate.

“Maybank,” Rafe greeted the Pogue stiffly, a lot more tense than he’d been around John B.

The younger blonde boy threw his arm around your shoulders as he came to your side, catching you by surprise. You glanced up at him, but his eyes never left Rafe, his smirk widening. You didn’t see the look of anger that flashed across your former best friend’s face, a fire igniting in his eyes — JJ caught it though, and he was going to run with it.

“I heard about the engagement, man, congrats!” JJ spoke enthusiastically and you had to resist rolling your eyes. You suddenly had the urge to throw up like on the Druthers, but you swallowed the feeling down. Your eyes met Rafe’s again as JJ kept going, “Don’t you have, like, a cake tasting to get to or something?”

Rafe’s hands curled into fists, knuckles cracking as he squeezed. If anyone knew how to get under his skin in just the right way, it was the Maybank boy. He breathed out slowly through his nose, choosing to ignore the comments from the Pogue. He pleaded with you, “Can we just talk, real quick? Please?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, bro. Y/N’s really busy right now,” JJ answered for you, tilting his head to look down at you, “Aren’t you, bubs?”

You stared up into the tan blonde’s indigo eyes that were screaming at you not to go to him. You knew he was trying to help you, but you weren’t friends. You didn’t understand why he came to your defense so quick. He could have just let you stand out there and allow Rafe to rope you back in like you knew he could.

“She can speak for herself,” Rafe snapped at JJ who looked back at him with a raised eyebrow. You hadn’t moved out from under his arm so clearly you had no interest in going to the Kook.

“Go home, Rafe,” you said, turning with JJ to walk up to the Chateau. “Wouldn’t want to suffocate you anymore,” you took a dig, repeating what Janelle had said to you earlier in the day.

Rafe stood there, watching as you walked to the porch, wrapped in someone else’s arms — someone he despised. His heart pounded harder in his chest the further you got away from him, like you were taking it with you. He silently got back in his truck and backed out, tires squealing as he peeled off down the road. He gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, breathing raggedly. Wouldn’t want to suffocate you anymore. Those words bothered him, knowing he’d heard something like that before but he couldn’t recall when, where or more importantly, who.

“Well that couldn’t have been anymore awkward,” John B. stated as he led you into the house.

You’d expected JJ to drop his arm the second Rafe was gone, but he didn’t, guiding you into the kitchen for you to put down your bag. You sighed heavily and rubbed your face with the hand not pinned to your side, “I’m sorry about that. And thank you, JJ, you didn’t have to do all that.”

The boy hummed and waved his hand, finally stepping away from you and moving to the fridge, “The guy’s an asshole and needs to learn he can’t always get what he wants. Especially after what happened on daddy dearest’s boat.”

You felt your face flush, looking over at John B. who held his hands up as if he was surrendering, “I didn’t say anything, swear.”

“Word travels fast ‘round these parts,” JJ clarified, walking back over and handing you a beer. He sat down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, patting the one beside him for you. “C’mon, tell your good pal JJ what the Prince fucked up this time.”

tag list (if you want to be added, shoot me an ask or a message!): @pink-meringues​ @k-k0129​ @solllaris​ @taiter-tots​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @fttayla​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @jjmaybcnks​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @queenk00k​ @drewswannabegirl​ @diverdcwn​ @royalmerchant​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @obxmermaid​ @anxietyspacetart-15​ @butgilinsky​ @teenwaywardasgardian​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @fangirlvoice​ @juliarose21​ @skiesofthesketchy​ @daughterofaphrodite​ @dontjinx-it​ @outerbanksbro​ @sportygal55​ @nqbmf​ @xenagzb​ @sweetlysilent​ @loverofmineluke​ @aaleksmorozova​ @meltame17​ @summerkaulitz​ @stupidpendeja​ @rafej-cambanks​ @popcrone818​ @slutforjjmaybank​ @madschalamet​ if you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

#obx #outer banks #obx fic #outer banks fic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron angst #rafe oneshot #rafe angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fluff #lonely heart #chyna writes

[writefightandflightclub]

wait ik weird question but how do you imagine nathan's bathroom looks like

Please find me GOING WAY TOO HARD in response to this ask below the cut. I mean it, moodboards (PLURAL), the whole deal. I’m SO sorry!

Nathan Bateman’s Bathroom: Luna Goes Way Too Hard

Canon vs. Headcanon + about this post: his bedroom is underground, so if he has an en suite it might be similarly windowless, and possibly even quite Spartan. I think the complex may have multiple bathrooms though (and I’ve realised I imagined at least three different ones in my head for different fics), so if we’re bending the rules a little to imagine a bathroom that makes the most of the setting, I think the moodboards suggest the general aesthetic I have in my head. Basically, since none of the pics I found were 100% accurate, and because I’m a huge NERD, I also followed up with lengthy descriptions no-one asked for. (Look, I never promised I wasn’t over-invested... and not just in the character of Nathan and in the movie, but ALSO? The architecture / design / setting of that house is my dream, and I’m a bit of a geek about interiors and especially how they link with characters so I’m sorry if you REGRET EVER ASKING!) Of course, if anyone has other thoughts on this, or other questions I can go WAY too deep on hmu! 🧡

Bathroom mood/vibe: efficient / understated / minimalist / slightly clinical edge. Decadent but in a very subtle way. Not flashy- luxurious more because of the materials, setting, design etc. rather than anything “in your face”. Not cosy exactly, but don’t get me wrong- everything is high-end- heated floors, amazing water pressure and settings, softest towels.

Colours: raw concrete, slate grey, stone beige, wood colours, maybe a hint of teal/copper but very subtle.

Textures/materials: It’s not exactly a cosy / warm room in some ways, but the natural textures soften it a lot and make it oddly comforting. Think raw concrete, exposed rock. Glass, obviously, with the floor to ceiling wall of windows. Accents of slatted wood-panelling reminiscent of a steam room. Natural textures in accessories e.g. wood bath tray, soap dish. Amber glass pump bottles- no plastic to be seen! Maybe a hint of marble. Nothing too shiny, not even the shower fixtures- maybe black!? And nothing that looks like it isn’t meant to be there or isn’t in-keeping with the natural textures... anything too modern will be hidden somewhere seamlessly. Nathan doesn’t have a lot of tech on display for a tech genius...

Shapes: sharp lines and boxy shapes, and everything very uniform, contrasting with the naturalness of the exposed stone and outdoor scenery (parallels with the whole theme of natural vs. manmade in the movie). Boxy shapes but everything integrated into something else if possible, adding to the sense of elegance and efficiency, e.g. boxy shelves set directly into walls, or ledges popping-out to form benches. Maybe a long countertop the length of one wall with the sink set into it. Lots of continuous lines and shapes rather than items plonked around with no coherency.

Wow factor: that view though! Imagine either a free-standing or sunken tub at the far end of the room (I asked irl husband and he said maybe the bath even disappears into the floor when it’s not in use and then it’s just a giant wet room!) with a whole wall of windows looking out over the stunning, wild Alaskan landscape. It’s not overlooked so you can start the day nude having a cold shower (like the glacial waters you see in the distance) like Nathan does, or you can finish it off in a hot bath while looking out at THAT majesty, watching golden hour rake through the trees and spreading dappled, molten colour through the room. I also imagine that some of the roof is glass, maybe with a covering over the top which is retractable, (so imagine a glass cube jutting out a little from the side of the compound), so that you can lie in the bath and stargaze, and almost feel like you’re outside without being subjected to the thaw.

Layout/design: I don’t imagine shower doors, or many traditional doors or windows. I think it would be quite opened up, like a whole, multi-purpose wet room. However, I think instead there might be well-located partitions e.g. a partition separating out the toilet / bidet. Who wants to look at that?!

Functional stuff: No obvious bulbs or bright lights but soft, hidden lights. Slight lighting drama in places to highlight features e.g. lights fanning across textures of stone, running along the edges of a boxy shelf. Plus, the dim lighting is appreciated by Nathan when he’s hungover. At least one of those fancy rain shower heads. But also other attachments and taps and nozzles for whatever you may wanna do. Everything is convenient and customisable. Nathan is fussy and why would he settle for less than his exact pereference when he doesn’t have to?! And why should you?! Also, there are obviously integrated speakers in case you want to listen to music or whatever, without having to faff with a Bluetooth speaker. Nathan often likes it silent, but the option is there for when the mood strikes. Oh, and I hope he has a hot tub and lil steam room somewhere else in the development, out on a deck we haven’t seen. Maybe further into the forest, or underground.

Signs of life: Nathan’s fluffy, slate grey bathrobe. Slate grey and spa white towels. The bare minimum of grooming products (dental stuff, beard oil, grooming kit, shaver, aftershave) and a large rectangular sink with a mirror so he can groom the beard and keep his head freshly buzzed (the mirror also comes in handy so he can check-out the results of his working-out, or to have a good view if he wanna get, ahem, frisky with anyone). Although, I’m convinced that although Nathan’s routine is minimal, he probably has something fancy stashed away - some lush oils for sore muscles or facial treatments. (Basically, I don’t think he’d be entirely against a spa day.) Other things he has stashed away? Painkillers/over-the-counter hangover remedies, some scientifically proven super vitamins, who knows what else? He’s pretty secretive. Ocassionally, some magazines or journals or papers he’s been reading are casually strewn in there. He has to keep up with the outside world somehow, and we know from the post-it wall that sometimes he appreciates things analogue. Also, he subscribes to some art quarterlies that I’m clearly not fancy enough to know about, so there’s that.

How does he use the room? Headcanons etc. I personally don’t see Nathan as a bath person. At least, not unless someone... persuasive convinces him of the benefits. He’s efficient and mainly sees it as a waste of time. Also he sits down enough that he’s keen to stand when he can. Besides, for someone who works out and gets sweaty so much, showers make more sense. There are exceptions; for example, he might bathe if he’s super sore from weight-training, but he has a lil bath tray and he’s willing to risk electrocution by bringing his laptop in there so he can soak and work at the same time. However, the tub is technically roomy enough for two. And, crucially, it has middle taps, so no-one gets poked in the back if you go end-to-end. Ah, why not pour some champagne and bubbles and lie back and see how long you can keep him there. I’m sure you can put up a pretty convincing argument.

If you actually read of all this I both apologise and thank you 🤣🙏🙈

#someone please employ me as a set decorator? lol #I got way too into this #Ex Machina #set decoration #Nathan Bateman x reader #luna answers #Nathan Bateman

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: save file 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: chigasaki itaru/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 3.0k words

𝐚𝐧: itaru event? itaru fic! me loving fake dating + direct af titles? nothing changed~ sequencing of events might be weird, oops~

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Itaru’s not the least bit surprised at the sight of your wrinkled nose; neither is he shocked at the crease that formed between your brows nor the narrowing of your eyes. It must be a lot to take in, truly, but it had to be done.

“Chigasaki-kun,” you said, immediately trailing off as though you couldn’t convey the rest of your thoughts. That was fine, he thought, he can wait for his SP to fill up for 100 minutes so surely he can wait a couple more minutes for your response.

It’s a bit embarrassing, but maybe he needs to explain a bit more? He doesn’t mind too much, he was putting you on the spot, after all.

“I know it’s sudden,” Itaru said apologetically, “but I need you. You’re the only one who can—“

“Chigasaki-kun,” you repeated, sounding firmer this time around. At this point, Itaru noticed that your eyes never left the cafe table that separated the two of you, or rather what laid right smack in the centre of it. As soon as he slid it towards you, your eyes had gone from wide and surprised to squinting, almost as though it had offended you.

He was so focused on your line of sight that he failed to notice the sudden rush of red that raced across your cheeks. After a moment of silence, you let out a deep breath.

“Why the fuck did you just give me a replica of Byleth’s ring from Fire Emblem?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he dug through his pocket to bring out another ring, the exact same design, “I have another one.”

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“Hey, you made it! Thanks for coming, Chigasaki-sa—“ as he took in the sight of your locked hands, his co-worker let out a comically loud gasp, before trying and failing to cover it up with an awkward cough.

Itaru’s not stupid, at the very least he’s definitely not blind or deaf. Besides the gracious host, he can tell everyone is shocked and staring. They’re not even trying to be discrete about it anymore.

The people from his department had been gossiping for all of last week, creating speculations on his love life. The theories had a lot of exaggeration, a lot of denial.

You squeezed his hand a little tighter, him reciprocating to reassure you.

Envy. Judgement.

Still, as he glanced at your face to check for any sign of discomfort only to find a poised smile, he was once again reminded by your strength and fortitude. He always admired that from you, and it was always so enthralling to see that side of you in action.

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“You’ll come, won’t you?” Itaru let out a quiet hum, yet refusing to answer immediately. Though he’d prefer to sit out of most gatherings, he particularly disliked going to non-essential get-togethers where the only real purpose was for his co-workers to eat and drink less restrained as they would with the higher-ups around.

Normally he would have some excuse conjured up, maybe even pretend to check his phone calendar and reject the invite apologetically. However, he had already skipped out three times, consecutively.

He already breached the three strikes and you’re out rule, and he’s not so sure risking going for four would be the smartest play for his reputation… but it probably wouldn’t hurt to save game and set aside his decision making for later.

“I’ll have to check my schedule. I just need to check with someone first,” he said, thinking back to the director and the rest of spring troupe. Would any of them give him an excuse he has yet to use?

“Ahh, feel free to bring your sister then!” the man paused, a small smirk appearing as his eyebrows waggled. “Unless you wanna bring, you know, a friend.”

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“You just don’t want to suffer alone,” you said, using your fork to prod at the meal he treated you to. Surely a one time gathering wasn’t all there is to it? Chigasaki Itaru, who always kept his life outside work private, suddenly wanting people to know he had a significant other?

Even though he didn’t?

“I’ve been to those— I know they suck,” you continued, your eyes darting away from the silver band to look at him properly, “will this even benefit you?”

“It’ll probably be annoying at first,” he replied, keeping eye contact to let you know how serious he was, “dealing with everyone’s questions, but they’ll eventually just accept it and stop bothering me.”

“What about me?”

“You work somewhere else— they won’t get the chance to bother you,” he pointed out, propping his elbow on the table as he rest his cheek on his knuckles. He continued seeing as you stayed silent, “plus, don’t you have anyone bothering you about your lack of a love life?”

In any other instance, you probably would have made a remark about him being too dedicated to his waifus to date as well, but you could only grimace as you recalled the upcoming family reunion. If your aunts teased you again for not being in a relationship… if your mom kept insisting that you were just hiding a secret boyfriend to delude herself…

“Fine, but in exchange—“

Itaru let out a chuckle, “so the matching rings aren’t enough? I’ll have you know, they’re Class A replicas.”

You snorted, “stop, stop! I’m being serious here!” you said, lightly kicking his feet from beneath the table. When he moved to retaliate, you hastily pushed your feet beneath your chair.

“Oi—“

“Just kidding, just kidding!“ he said, raising his hands up in surrender, “so, how can I help you?”

“… you up for a family reunion lunch on Sunday?”

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“So, like, do we need to prepare any— dude, dude, dude what the…? This part of your island is—” Even without heading over to where you were, he immediately knew which area you were cackling about.

“That’s the nature dump! Obviously not gonna terraform it yet?” Itaru replied, “I need a place to place all the normie flowers?”

He heard you scoff, your animal crossing character running up to his and hitting him with a net.

“Not that dump, dummy! Why are there toilets? The fences— toilets—“ you trailed off, unable to help yourself from bursting back into laughter. He instinctively laughed alongside you, knowing the monstrosity you were talking about.

“What kind of idiot makes a pathway out of toilets?”

“Hey! They create a cool effect when you walk past it!” he said, defending himself as your character hit his on the head again, “kind of like a clam opening up—“

“It’s a toilet! Not a clam!”

“Ya? Well I, Taruchi, am a resident of Urinetown, subtitle: actually an island and not a town,” Itaru said, almost as if he was proud of himself. “Before you come from me, Urinetown is a musical about capitalism. What’s your excuse, Pen Island?”

You gasped, obviously fake but dramatic enough to continue your banter “I’ll have you know, the actual name is Pen Isles? Also, you named our Stardew Valley farm—“ you paused, as though realising something, “wait, wasn’t I going to ask you something?”

“… pfft, GJ.”

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Itaru watched you introduce yourself to the rest of the room, your words polite but brimming with a confidence that was rare to see from his friend turned pretend s/o… or at least, that was what he initially thought.

Maybe this side of you just so happened to be particularly evident tonight, ringing throughout your voice and exhibited by your body language; that didn’t mean it was hidden before this instance.

There was a certain charm to you. Always been, but he never really acknowledged it. It was the little things, like how you were never hesitant about adding to his commentary when you two played Co-Op, or the playfulness you showed from time to time, or your genuineness around him— kind, but not taking bullshit from him or anyone.

If he was reading the room right, he can’t blame them for being even a little bit enthralled with you.

Even if it didn’t exactly sit right with him.

“I didn’t know Chigasaki-kun was dating someone!” a brave soul piped up from the sidelines, probably vocalising what everyone else was holding back from saying. Huh, wasn’t she one of the people who fiercely denied the rumour that he was in a relationship?

He doesn’t miss the way the corners of your lips quirked downwards for a split second, before lifting back upwards as though it never happened.

“Well, Itaru can be a bit private,” you replied, a muffled but silvery giggle escaping escaping your lips, “though I suppose I’m a bit of the same? Might be why we’re compatible.”

The woman who asked flushed slightly, and he was sure it wasn’t from any alcohol consumed. Even still, he found himself mirroring the pink hue.

Itaru?

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“Itaru,” he repeated to you for the third time tonight.

“Shoot, sorry,” you apologised, making your animal crossing character portray your shock at your slip-up again. Lmao, that was cute. “Damn… it’s weird going from Chigasaki-kun to just Itaru.”

It was his turn to hit your character with a net.

“Taruchi isn’t that far from Itaru, and you call me that all the time,” he stated, snorting at the little huff that was somehow still audible on call.

“Calling you your IGN is way different though?” you protested, “I can’t just call you that in public?”

“Shame it might expose me irl,” he sighed in disappointment, “it would have been cute to have my gamer s/o go ‘uwu Taruchi, fighto!’”

“Hahhh? Was it ever cute any time I called you Taruchi?” you asked, incredulousness present in your tone as you proceeded to mock him, “uwu, Taruchi, fighto!… there, was that cute at all?”

Itaru’s hand slid up to cover his face, his growing smile lifting his cheeks upward. You were clearly just joking around, but, well, “who knows? Maybe if you said ‘Taruchi-sama, ganbatte! I’d be able to—“

“Itaru!” you interrupted, immediately making the human equivalent noise of a keyboard smash, your little avatar running around in circles as he imagined what expression your face had right now.

Amidst his unrestrained laughter, he managed to squeeze in his next sentence in parts. “You— you finally said it! Otsu~”

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You had only called him ‘Itaru’ that one time, every other time being ‘Taruchi’ in private or ‘Itaru-kun’ in public. Still, hearing you say his name in person instead of on the phone made it feel like the first time again.

Luckily for him, he didn’t get that much time to dwell on it. Someone had lead you two to sit somewhere, surrounded by more of his polite and friendlier coworkers. Exchanging pleasantries with them was easy enough, as was answering questions about your relationship.

They’ve had multiple test runs after all. There was no way they were messing up any details, there was no room or possibility of either of them even fumbling.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“We’ve been friends since university,” you replied, something that was actually true, “it took years for me to even confess! I’m just glad Itaru accepted,” you gave him a purposeful glance, your bashful expression nearly enough to lead him to believe that you really did have a crush on him all this time.

“So you two have been together since—?”

“After my graduation,” Itaru supplied helpfully, “so it’s been a few years.”

“That’s so sweet! You know,” the woman in front of you lowered her voice, and you leaned in a little closer to listen in, “a lot of us were wondering if Chigasaki was dating anyone after we saw his ring. I thought it was just a fashion statement, but now I know it’s the real deal!”

She eyed the silver band on your ring finger, one that completely matched his.

“The rings are beautiful! The design is completely unique,” another person commented. Itaru felt your ring finger loop around his own, and the two of you turned to look at each other, sharing an amused grin.

If only they knew it was actually really well-done game merch.

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“What’s the point of the rings, though?” you asked, curious of just how far Itaru was taking this plan anyway.

“Do you not like it?” Itaru asked. Undeniably, he would be a bit upset if you ended up not liking the ring. After all, he bought it because—

“It’s lovely,” you said sincerely, carefully picking up the ring, “just surprised you already had rings on hand?”

He chuckled apprehensively, “I was going to save it as a friendship anniversary gift,” he explained, “I still feel a little guilty I didn’t get you anything last year.”

“You don’t have to get me anything anyway,” you said reassuringly, “but I appreciate it.”

He watched you slip the ring on your left ring finger, mouth opening up to apologise as he saw how loose the ring was on you, about to offer to have it resized immediately before you interrupted with quiet laughter.

“It’s a bit awkward right now, but I love it.”

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□  NOW LOADING SAVE FILE 4 LOADED

The get-together was going really well, surprisingly. He still would have preferred to be in the comfort of his room, but your presence just made everything so much easier. Even the questions people threw at the two of you weren’t so bothersome, dodging the more nosy people and sticking with anything general.

It had somehow become a game between the two of you. It was like an act off, almost, of who could give the more impressive or heart fluttering statement. Whether it was for the sake of your audience or to just affect each other remains unsaid.

“What do you like about Itaru?”

You looked away from him, closing your eyes as though you were thinking. To be fair, anything real personality or gaming related was out of bounds. Would you cater your response to his work persona, or—

“Everything!”

He nearly choked on air, trying to ignore the urge to clutch at his heart.

“That’s no fair, give something more specific!”

“I do like everything about Itaru, though?” you said with a cute pout, “but I guess I like his kindness the most. He’s always so thoughtful and considerate. He’s a busy man, but he always finds the time to help me out when I need it.”

Everyone cooed at the two of them, but he found it difficult to concentrate on that when he could only cling onto the words that started to sound more and more real as the night went by.

Out of context, everything you said could be interpreted as you just being friendly, but there was something in the way you pronounced his name and the expression on your face as you talked about him that was… different.

“What about you, Chigasaki?”

Escaping from his thoughts, his mind was filled to the brim with thoughts, but the words refused to spill from his lips.

Was there a way to describe how captivated he was at your little quirks, from the random filler noises you’d make on call or text when words failed you, to the literal quirk of the corner of your lips as you shifted expressions.

Was there a way express his appreciation for sticking by him for years, regardless of his hidden side? Was there a way to express his gratefulness for the laughter rendered and the tears wiped off by you; the smile blooming on his face as he imitated your own subconsciously?

This was the one thing he couldn’t have a manual or guide to study, so he could only hope that he went with the right dialogue choice.

“Everything too, actually.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■□  AUTOSAVING AUTOSAVE SUCCESSFUL!

The drive back home was quiet. He was exhausted, and he could tell you were too, but as he neared your street his driving got slower and slower, almost unmoving. From the corner of his eye, he saw you fiddle with your ring, twisting it around your fourth finger before pulling it off completely.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said out loud, yet you didn’t make a move to reattach your seatbelt.

“Itaru.”

Oh, wow. If hearing it a while ago trumped hearing it over call, then hearing you murmur his name in private, with just the two of you present, was…

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you continued, “all throughout the whole get-together, actually. Are you okay?”

When everything about this, about you simultaneously felt so new yet so familiar to him, how could he possibly convey his feelings? His admiration, no, his love for you?

He took the ring from your grasp, and before you could question what was up, he had grabbed your hand as well. With a serendipitous conscientiousness, he slid the ring back onto your ring finger, admiring your rosy glow that managed to be visible even with how dark out it was outside.

“The things you said a while ago,” he began, some hesitance still remaining as his thumb glided over your ring, “sounded really convincing.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. For a few seconds the both of you kept silent, until you finally broke it off, “maybe I wasn’t lying in the first place.”

He stiffened, pausing his previous ministrations as you continued, “… were you?”

Looking back at the past week, he almost laughed. Other than already being in a relationship, was anything between the two of you ever a lie to begin with?

“I wasn’t, either,” he replied. Taking in a deep breath, your gaze finally locked with his, he took the next step.

“If… if I promise to always be there for you, to hold your hand, help you fight your battles, and shield you from attacks… would you have me?”

want to order again?

#a3! #a3! act! addict! actors! #itaru chigasaki #a3! itaru #chigasaki itaru #cafe: dessert menu #a3! actor training game #a3! game #a3 actor training game

[toastedbuckwheat]

Hello! May I ask how you draw? I'm currently learning how to myself and would be highly interested into a step to step process by you! Like from sketch to the done thing (no color necessary)

Hello there!

I dunno how I feel about showing how I work/giving advice to someone who’s learning (and I say it as a pro artist who went through years of traditional art education) because when I do the illustrations you see here on my tumblr I BREAK THE RULES you’d learn though life drawing routine, and give in to bad habits, and my methods are rather unplanned and chaotic which makes it difficult to pinpoint significant stages. But I used my portable potato to take some photos during working on my last piece, so I’ll throw it here with a bit of an explanation of what’s going on.

Before I begin - and because you’re about to look at a mess of a WIP - I’d like to give you some general advice that generally makes life easier when you draw (again, things that I learned in traditional arts education - another artist might advise you the complete opposite, dunno!)

Work holistically. Forget them satisfying-to-look-at clips on instagram showing someone produce a hyperrealistic portrait starting from an eye, with each and every element emerging being finished before they proceed to another part. It takes a lot of talent, yes, but these are ppl redrawing a photo in a kind of a mechanical manner. Most artists don’t work this way. Especially if you’re working without a reference, or if you’re doing a life drawing - your process will be layering and changing and finding what works best to give an impression of what you’re drawing rather than reproduce the exact image, and your artwork is likely to look messy most of the time.That said: don’t start with the details. Don’t spend too much time on a particular part while neglecting others. Your goal is to keep the whole piece at the same level of ‘finished’ (even though it’s unfinished - do I make sense?) before you’re confident that everything is where it should be and proceed to the details. So sketch out the composition first. See how things fit, what’s the dynamics. You’ll save yourself from limbs sticking out from the frame, odd proportions etc etc.

Because it’s a game of relationships between different parts of the picture/scene. I ask you not to worry about finishing a single element before laying out the rest because you’ll find that said element will look different once the other part appears! For instance - you might think that the colour you picked for a character’s hair is already very dark. But once you’re done with the night sky background, you’ll find that it’s in fact too light, and doesn’t work well with the cold palette. You’ll have to revisit different parts of the image as you go to balance these relationships and make the picture work as a whole.

Give an impression of something being there without actually drawing it ‘properly’- because details are hard, mate. You’ll see that my lineart usually has hardly any, and my colouring is large unrefined stains, but the finished thing looks convincing. Like, fuck, I can never focus on how Crowley’s eyes are really shaped. So I just turn them into large glowing yellow ellipses crossed by a line, and heard no protests so far.

Don’t panic if you messed up (you probably didn’t anyway). It might turn out to be a completely unnoticeable mistake - because, remember, things work together to balance each other, so another finished off prominent element will probably drown that badly placed line that looked so visible and out of place a second ago. 

It might not look good before it’s finished. I’m mostly immune to it after years of drawing, and my recent illustrations all follow a specific method (ykno, my sunset glow effects and all that) so I can kinda predict the next stage. But I do my linearts on a specially picked crap paper, I don’t bother erasing the smudged graphite, and it looks messy af until I make the background white in Photoshop. Conclusion: you might have a moment of doubt as you work through a piece, but try to break through it - I often suddenly start to like what I cursed a minute before! - and try to finish it even if it’s meant to be bad. This way, looking through your past pieces, you’ll see the progress. And trust me, I can’t even look at my art from literally three months ago. It’s normal.

Now, pics! The sketches are paler in real life, but I increased the contrast a little so you can see something.

1. Laying out the composition! 

I wanted to just show them kissing, but I got carried away due to some Art Nouveau inspiration. As you might have noticed, most of my illustrations are quite self-contained (ykno - they look like a sticker on a plain background). So I wanted a tight swirl bordered by Aziraphale’s wings creating a sort of rounded, yin-yang like bubble around them. Consequently I made the whole composition revolve around their heads. 

2. Adding more details to the sketch. It’s messy af. It will be messy until I’m done. It’s fine.

3. These are the fineliners I use for the linearts! They are made by Uni-ball and come in light and dark grey. I also sometimes use the guy on the left - ‘Touch’ sign pen by Pentel, when I want more brush-like, wider strokes. I work in grey because when I scan it and do my usual boring trick with sunlight highlights - which is an Overlay mode layer in Photoshop - the highlights ‘burn out’ the lines too and make them vanish a little, and the lighting effect gets more striking. I also like to use the light grey ones to make something look pencil-y without actually using pencil, because pencil fucking smudges.

4. It smudges! So because I am right handed, I start inking from the right hand side, no matter how tempted I am to do their faces first.

5. You can see the composition directions here. I made it intuitively, but ofc some ppl actually use grids etc to lay out their drawings.

6. See how pale ans thin the lineart was at first? I kept adjusting it as new inked parts were appearing. It starts to look nice and consistent now! 

7. Finished lineart? There are some mistakes which I later corrected in PS. Notice that Aziraphale’s face has hardly any details on it - I tried to make the drawing suggest his expression rather than risk overdoing it. 

8. Photoshop time!! You can totally do what I did here even if you don’t have a graphic tablet. I used Curves tool to enhance the lineart, then Quick Selection Tool to select the background around around my sticker-like piece and filled it white (on a new layer ofc). I keep this white layer on top of the layer order so it works as a mask as I colour. I decided I did not like the hatching shading underneath Aziraphale’s halo, so I erased it with a Stamp tool (because I wanna keep the textured grey fill my crap paper naturally gives me!). It’s done roughly but won’t be visible once the thing is coloured. 

9. And the reason why I keep the grey shade instead of easily getting rid of it by using Curves/Levels is because when I set this layer to Multiply mode and colour underneath, it gives me this nice desaturated look like from an old cheap paper comic page. It works as a natural filter! But of course I can’t do bright colours this way, so all my glowing highlights happen ABOVE the lineart layer - on a separate layer in Overlay mode! 

Finished thing here!

_____

Commission infoBuy Me a Coffee - help me with my transitioning expenses!Prints and stickers and things on my Redbubble!

#ask the buckwheat #long post #tutorial #drawing advice #drawing tutorial #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanart #good omens art #my illustrations #doodles #toastedbuckwheat

[lo-55]

Tilt The Hourglass Ch. 11

Forget putting a bell on Maul, Maul was going to put a leash on Kenobi. 

The foolish boy had made the executive decision to leave before dawn with no more than a note.  

Maul handed the piece of flimsi to Jango, his jaw set tight. 

Dear Mr. Fett and Maul, 

I went back to the Agri-Corps dome to get another look at the secret room in case I saw something I missed before that might help Master Jinn. I will return with lunch around midday planet time. Thank you for last night, and I apologize for the inconvenience. 

Sincerely, Jedi Initiate Obi Wan Kenobi

Jango didn’t look any happier to see the note than Maul felt. He knew Kenobi was impulsive and foolish but this was truly ridiculous. 

How was it possible that this was the same man who had consistently beaten Maul through his lifetime? 

Maul paused. 

Well. Kenobi had charged a Sith head on after his vaunted master had fallen to his hand. He’d taken only a single other Jedi to confront that same Sith when he had back up. He’d left the Jedi with no help at all to try to rescue Satine. Maul had seen him fight on full battlefields and loose his lightsaber. And, he was also the one who had raised Skywalker and Tano. 

What was that saying about Neti falling from their branches? 

Maul realized with no small degree of horror that Kenobi had mellowed with age, and this one was twice as rash as the one he’d known. 

Well fuck. 

Maul had been busy in his room in the morning after breakfast, and Jango had been off talking to someone on a private comm that he wasn’t allowed to eavesdrop on, and in the middle of all that Kenobi had just. Vanished. 

“I should have kept a better eye on him,” Maul scowled at the flimsi, quietly willing it to light on fire. He’d never gotten the hang of spontaneous combustion, and it didn’t work now either. 

Jango shot him an unimpressed look over the edge of the parchment. It was small, hotel issued. 

“I’m pretty sure you’re younger than him,” Jango said patiently, “so if anything he should have been watching you.” 

He didn’t even bother with Maul’s bristling pride this time. Jango wouldn’t snap at him, of that Maul was certain, but he was clearly irritated by Kenobi’s lack of forethought. 

It didn’t help that a moment later the door swung open and Clat’Ha strode in, her eyes white around the edges, with Jinn in tow. 

Maul blinked at the white bandages plastered to the normally dignified Jedi’s nose. Was Jinn getting in bar fights now? At this point it wouldn’t surprise Maul. 

“What-” 

Jango was cut off by Clat’Ha, who had gone pale. 

“It’s Obi Wan. He’s gone missing.” 

Maul’s blood went cold. His face blanched to grey-pink. “What?” 

Missing? Truly missing? 

Maul’s mind went to Xanatos. He was the only other threat they had encountered on this journey. Well, the only one that still lived. The draigons were gone, the pirates were space dust, only the washed out Padawan was left. 

“He went to the AgriCorps dome this morning,” Jango said, showing them the note. Jinn’s mouth thinned into a line and his brows pinched together. 

“Si Treemba said he saw him there, but he vanished. They heard shouting and fighting near the annex they found the other day, but when they got there Obi Wan was gone,” Clat’Ha shook her head mournfully. 

“We have to find him,” Jango spoke for all of them. 

Jinn held up his hand. 

“We must be patient,” he counselled, and Maul knew he wasn’t the only one who wanted to strike the Jedi in the face. “If we rush in with haste, we run the risk of putting him in further danger.” 

“Funny to hear that from the Jedi,” Jango snapped. 

Jinn narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t expect a man like yourself to understand the subtleties of bidding ones time and gathering information-”

“It’s hard to gather information when you hoard cards to your chest like a hutt on a losing streak-” 

“If you needed to know I would tell you-”

“Like you told Obi Wan? Listen you-” 

“Enough!” Clat’Ha snapped, stepping between the bickering men. It was enough to get them to cut it out, at least momentarily. “Arguing helps no one, now shut up. Our first priority needs to be looking for Obi Wan. I’m going out to the dome to see if I can find any leads. And you two are not going to go after eachother the second I’m gone, got it?” 

She looked pointedly from one man to the other, until both were bowed to her will. 

Maul would have been impressed in any other situation. 

“Kenobi isn’t dead,” Maul said with certainty. All three looked at him, startled. Maul met their eyes defiantly. “He’s not weak enough as to roll over and die just like that.”

“...The kids right,” Clat’Ha’s shoulders relaxed and she slowly eased into a smile. “We’ll find him. I’m off, I’ll comm you if I find anything new.” 

“I’m going to go to the dockmaster,” Jango said finally. “I’ll find out if there’s a ship that’s left Bandomeer that might have him on it. Maul, you should come with me. It’ll be dangerous.” 

Maul shook his head. “I’ll find you later. I wanna check on a rumor I heard first.” 

Jango eyed him suspiciously, but Maul had proven himself resourceful and dangerous. Reluctantly, the Mandalorian agreed. 

“Just keep your head down, okay? I’ll be very upset if I don’t get the chance to adopt you properly.” 

Maul kicked his boot. “Cut the sentimental Banthashit,” he scolded. “You’re supposed to be a Mandalorian, a fearsome warrior!” 

“And there’s nothing Mandalorian’s value more than our ade, Maul’ika. Children are our future, and you are mine.” Jango patted his head lightly, minding his horns. “Meet back here tonight, or I’m coming to find you.” 

Maul rolled his eyes. As it he hadn’t noticed the tracer Jango had slipped into his poncho pocket. He would leave it be for now. If he went somewhere he didn’t want Jango following he would take it out and attach it a tooka for Jango to follow after. 

For the time being, he left the apartments and headed to the Offworld admin building in Bando. 

It wasn’t hard to sneak in through the vents. It was one of the only good things about being this small again, was how easy it was to slide through buildings and ships. He had to carefully rerout a few cleaning droids, but besides that he didn’t have any trouble finding Xanatos’ office. He did, however, notice that the door was hidden behind the same opaque wall that Kenobi had found in the dome. 

Certainly Xanatos’ work. 

Maul briefly considered kicking out the grate and ripping Kenobi’s location from Xanatos’ screaming throat, but the building was situated between an actual mine and a smelting facility. There would be guards, miners, and a hundred other workers in the building, and if it went into lock down Maul had seen laser grid generators in the vents on his way in. He didn’t fancy fighting an army of disgruntled Offworlders or getting cut in half again, thank you. 

There was always window, he supposed… 

But Maul was patient. He had to be. 

He hated it. 

It went against his very nature. Still, he was rather good at lying in wait. 

He watched Xanatos work. It was hard to see from this angle, but in the reflection of the window Maul caught his fingers moving, and the input of codes. He watched the pattern that formed. The computer showed only a code, and while Maul didn’t have the key he had enough to work it out. 

He even got the password. 

Crion. 

When Xanatos made for the door Maul carefully lifted a familiar lightsaber off of his hip and set it gently aside. As soon as Xanatos left Maul slowly eased his way out of his hiding place. He grabbed the lightsaber, one he had once thrown into the plasma generators in Theed, and searched Xanatos’ correspondences for any mention of Obi Wan in his little code. He found a few, but they were vague and brief. 

It told Maul just enough to know that Obi Wan was alive, and had been sent a mine in the seas. 

Maul copied as many files as he could and saved them a data stick in the desk drawer before he made off for the vents and the outside world. 

By then it was nearing dark. The miners had traded shifts, and the office workers had gone home. 

Maul was sneaking around the side of the building when he heard something very interesting. 

Jinn. 

The master was sneaking around the shadows like a common thief. Like Sith. Maul nearly laughed. The Jedi hypocrisy would never cease to amaze him.  

"If you have plans for Bandomeer, you should know I am here to stop you," he said, his voice low but full of Force. It really was his intention to put a stop to his former Padawan’s ploy here. 

Xanatos flung one side of his cloak behind him dramatically, and Maul could see the lines of lineage. Kenobi had a habit of stripping himself of his own cloaks, as did Tano. His hand rested casually on the hilt of a lightsaber. A familiar lightsaber. 

Xanatos patted the lightsaber. "Yes, I still have it. After all, I trained for all those years. Why should I give it up like a thief, when I deserve to carry it?"

Maul was beginning to think he was going to have to write down when he knew about Jedi traditions and cross check it. He had been raised to kill them, which meant he needed to learn how they fought and how their sentimentality made them weak. 

He didn’t know there were rules about keeping lightsabers after leaving an order. 

To be fair, a sith never would have been given the chance. 

"Because you deserve it no longer," Jinn answered. "You shame it."

A flush spread over Xanatos' face. Jinn’s comment had hit him. Xanatos still cared what Jinn thought of him. 

Good. 

Maul could use that. 

He was stiff, and angry, then he relaxed, smiling. Maul tracked his emotions carefully. Weaknesses. Everyone had weaknesses. 

"I see you are still a hard man, Qui-Gon. Once that bothered me. Now it amuses me." Xanatos began to circle around him. "We were friends at the end, more than Master and apprentice."

"Yes," Jinn said, taking careful steps to keep up with Xanatos. Maul tensed when he turned so he could have seen him if he were looking. He didn’t. 

 "We were."

"All the more reason for you to betray me. To you, friendship is nothing. You enjoyed my suffering."

"The betrayal was yours. As was the enjoyment of suffering. That is what you discovered on Telos. Yoda had already seen it. And that is why he knew you would fail."

"Yoda!" Xanatos spat the word. "That knee-high troll! He thinks he has power. He hasn't dreamed of a tenth of the power I know!"

"You know?" Qui-Gon asked mildly. "How do you know such power, Xanatos? A mid-level manager of a corporation, sent to do the board's bidding?"

"I do no one's bidding but my own."

"Is that why you're here? Is Bandomeer a test of your abilities?" 

"I don't take tests," Xanatos snapped. "I make the rules. Bandomeer is mine. All I have to do is reach out my hand and take it."

He circled closer, his cloak swirling and brushing against Jinn. He was a viper waiting to strike, but his fangs weren’t out. Maul knew Xanatos’ words. He had heard the same himself. 

A Sith does not wait for opportunity. He makes opportunity, and then he reaches out and takes what is rightfully his! 

The lesson, like many, was accompanied by pain. Maul had limped for a week afterwards, but only where Sidious could not see it. 

Power. What did this wash out know of power? He hadn’t even made it to Jedi Knight. 

"It's a tiny planet. Galactically insignificant. Yet it pours forth wealth into my hands. If you would only lose the tiresome rules of the Jedi, it would do the same for you. But no, Qui-Gon is too good. He is not tempted. He is never tempted."

"Bandomeer is not yours to own! You were always overconfident. You have gone too far

this time."

"No." Xanatos drew his lightsaber. "Now I have gone too far."

Maul cocked his head. He could feel the Darkside swirling around him, brushing his skin, searching for its place inside him. His body was too small to house much of it yet, but it was not he who called it, merely he who had a true hold of it. He who was its child. 

“Those who accept the power of the dark side must also accept the challenge of holding on to it.” Maul startled. He didn’t recognize the voice of his memories. “By its very nature the dark side invites rivalry and strife. This is the greatest strength of the Sith: it culls the weak from our order. Yet this rivalry can also be our greatest weakness.”

Xanatos laughed again, breaking Maul away from his thoughts and the voice. 

"You destroyed everything I loved," he accused, his lightsaber barely missing Jinn’s shoulder, so close it singed the fabric of his tunic. "You destroyed me that day, Qui-Gon. Yet I was reborn. Stronger, wiser. I have surpassed you."

Maul snorted, and started to leave. He decided he didn’t care about the rest of the fight. He needed to find Kenobi and he actually had a lead. He would come back and finish cleaning up Xanatos’ mess later. 

Kill him, maybe. Offer Kenobi his head for recompense. 

Well. 

Maybe not that exactly. Kenobi could be squeamish, 

"And where is your new apprentice?" Xanatos sneered.

Maul didn’t stick around to hear the rest of it. He knew the answers already. A deep sea mine. There were only a few close enough to the shore for a control freak like Xanatos to send Obi Wa- Kenobi to. 

Maul did stop long enough to send the information to Jango. He figured he might like to know where he was going, and where Xanatos and Jinn currently were duking it out. 

Meanwhile Maul found a small transport to take him out to see. He knocked the owner out cold, stashed his body, and stole the ship. He kept it low to the waves. In the darkness of the night any guards would be hard pressed to see him approach. 

He wasn’t met with blasterfire when he stopped the transport underneath one of the high legs of the rig. Maul secured it and spidered up the sides until he was sneaking on board. His come flashed with an incoming message from Jango, one that he soundly ignored. 

When he reached the top of his rig Maul pulled out his (finally finished) weapon. 

Maul held what looked like a S-195 blaster pistol, with slightly longer than average barrels. 

They made a perfectly functional blaster, with only slightly weaker bolts than a regular one would have. 

Maul was still working on that.  

It would work for this. 

Carefully, he snuck into the mine. 

 He had to ride on top of the turbolift, out of sight of the hulking, but stupid guards. They would be easy to mind trick, but tricks only lasted so long and he had seen slave collars like the ones on the sentients he passed. Those would be rigged with explosives. He rather liked Kenobi with his head on his shoulders, thank you. 

Once he was further down he could feel it. 

Kenobi’s light. 

Something was keeping it dim, but still there. A suppressant? 

Xanatos was really getting annoying. Maul was killing him when they got back to the mainland. 

If Jango didn’t beat him to it. 

Maul should have answered him comm so he could call dibs. 

Too late now. 

He hopped off the turbolift when he reached the floor where Kenobi’s presence was the strongest. It was till a phantom thing compared to what it had been before, nevermind what it would be. 

Maul kept his hood drawn firmly and made his way further inside. 

Deep in the undersea caves the slaves were kept in bunks. There were no bars to keep them in place, for their collars and their emaciated state did that just fine by itself. Maul could tell at a glance that most of them were half starved, or more, and beaten on the regular. 

The collars around their throats stood out over standard, tattered jumpsuits. The guards were lax beings, and with a simple command the two playing dice outside the bunks fell asleep. 

Maul picked his way through the slaves. 

It reeked of unwashed beings, blood, and sickness. 

Maul found his way to Obi- Kenobi, who was resting uneasily beside a spindly limbed being. Phindian. Weak joints, and a particularly pronounced jugular. Maul considered fourteen ways to kill him before he turned to his target. 

Maul tapped Kenobi lightly on the shoulder with his boot, startling the little Jedi awake. Maul touched his mind lightly, minding the darkness inside of him and keeping it careful. Just enough that Kenobi recognized him in his frightened, sleep addled state. 

Blue eyes stared up at him, Kenobi’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

“Maul?” he asked quietly. Hope trembled in his voice and Maul’s stomach twisted unpleasantly. 

People weren’t supposed to feel hope around him. They were supposed to fear him! Maul scowled down at him and tossed his lightsaber at Kenobi’s gaping face. 

Kenobi caught it on reflex alone, the weapon calling to him. It had felt utterly wrong in Maul’s calloused hands, his anger not mixing with the righteous light and the burning hope that lived inside Kenobi’s crystal. 

Kenobi cradled it to his chest. 

“This weapon is my life…” he whispered, a sentiment that was shared between Jedi and Sith alike. 

“Then you can owe me twice,” Maul said derisively. “Let’s go. “

“I can’t!” Kenobi touched his collar. It was buzzing faintly with electricity. Maul scowled. 

“Can’t you use the Force to turn it off?” Maul asked irritably. 

Kenobi shook his head miserably. He was a sorry sight, his clothes tattered and, now that Maul was close enough to see, his back burned with familiar marks of electric whips. 

Maul had a veritable tapestry of those same scars across his own back. 

“They’ve cut me off. I can barely feel it anymore,” Kenobi’s voice cracked.  

Maul winced in unwanted sympathy. He knew the feeling well. It was one of his masters favorite punishments. 

Maul knelt before Kenobi and reached for his throat. The little Jedi twitched but didn’t fight against him. He tilted his chin to give Maul better access. 

The metal was sturdy, it would be hard to cut through without killing Kenobi along with it, and the electric charge was near to the tiny explosive. Not small enough to blow through a wall, but it would do plenty of damage to soft human skin. 

It would be easy to turn it off. Getting it off was another matter. 

Not to mention the rest of the slaves that lay around them. 

Maul looked down to find the phindian watching him through slitted eyes. 

“...You’re not going to let me leave the rest of them here, are you?” Maul asked, exasperated. 

Kenobi startled. “What?” 

Maul pulled his hands away and stood up to brush off his cloak. 

“Show me where they keep the spare parts for the equipment,” Maul ordered shortly. Kenobi frowned. 

“I don’t know where those are.” 

Maul gave him an unimpressed look. “Haven’t you ever escaped from a prison before?” 

Kenobi frowned at him. “Why would I have had to do that?” 

“... Jedi really don’t teach anything useful, do they?” 

“Hey!” 

“Obawan,” the phindian finally gave up his ruse and sat up. “Your friend will free us.” 

Maul quirked a brow. 

“Not so!” The phindian waved his long arms. “He will cause us trouble.” 

“I’ll definitely cause you trouble if you don’t quiet down. Who knows here where the spare parts are kept?” Maul demanded shortly. He pulled his hand back to reveal the blaster holstered at his side. The phindian paled and Kenobi smacked Maul on the leg. 

“Don’t threaten him! He’s my friend, Guerra!” 

Maul rolled his eyes. “Then he should be helping. I won’t ask again.” 

The phindian, Guerra, stood up reluctantly. He looked dead in the eyes. Yet, in the furthest depth, there was hope. 

Maul bit back the urge to stomp it out. He needed this being’s help, for the time. 

Guerra looked to the sleeping guards warily. Maul rolled his eyes. “They aren’t waking up soon. Get going.” 

Other slaves stirred around them. Eyes watched them through hooded darkness. Maul breathed in the despair and fortified himself. It was going to be a long night. 

Guerra lead him into the tunnels, down the hall to locked room of spare parts. It took Maul less than a minute to pick the locks. They were old school and not very advance to begin with. 

Once inside he found a power pack for one of the big drills they used in lower levels, a wire coil, and disemboweled the locking mechanism for the doors. The circuit boards were kept carefully intact while he fetched a small tool box, conveniently equipped with a soldering iron, and set to work.He attached his wire coil to the capacitor for the door, and connected that to the big battery. While he was at it he found a heavy magnetic coupling splitter. He wished for Daleen. She’d already have the whole place turned on its head electronically. 

With his girls, and his brothers, Maul could have done anything. 

He would get to them soon enough. 

“What are you doing?” Guerra asked nervously. “This is fun! Not so. I do not trust your friend, Obawan.” 

“I’m making an EMP generator,” Maul said shortly. 

Kenobi’s face split into a startled, hopeful smile. “You can do that? Where did you learn? Did Jango teach you?” 

“Hmm? No. Now hold still. The collar’s going to tingle and then all the lights will go out. Stay close to me. Humans have terrible vision.” 

“Hey!” 

Maul ignored Kenobi’s indignation and pushed the ‘lock’ button. The door fizzled, the battering flickered faintly with electricity, and everything went dark. 

Maul relished it. 

“Let’s go get your friends, Kenobi.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Obi Wan stayed close to Maul as they prowled through the darkness. 

He couldn’t understand how he could see so well, his gold eyes glowing faintly in the darkness like embers to an unseen fire. Maul was one mystery after another. 

Obi Wan had thought him to be a Mandalorian, like Jango, but he wore no armor and he didn’t speak with the same accent. He fought viciously and without mercy when it was needed. Kenobi could not forget the grim comfort he had taken during their fight with the draigon’s to have someone as skilled and determined at Maul at his back while they battled off their death. His every shot was perfect. 

Even before that, he’d felled two hutts in the span of a breath. 

Maul was unlike anyone Obi Wan had ever met before. 

Admittedly, he had mostly met Jedi. Obi Wan had never been out of the temple, and it showed sometimes now. In the temple he had never been hungry. In the temple he had never hurt so badly for so long. 

Obi Wan swallowed those thoughts and followed Maul in the darkness. He could sense him through the Force, his presence dense and heavy. There was a gravity to Maul, in his sharp teeth and gleaming gaze. His ferocity was frightening, but as Maul had said, he did not allow his anger to control him. 

He controlled it. 

Obi Wan could not say the same thing. 

It was his own temper that had resulted in him being sent away from the order, and his own impulsiveness that had lead him to leave behind the safety of Jango and Maul to investigate on his own. He just wanted so badly to impress Master Jinn he thought- 

They would have come with him, he realized now. 

Fett was a good man. Even if he was Mandalorian, and Obi Wan had only hear horror stories about them, he had held Obi Wan’s shoulder when he’d felt like he was drowning in his despair and spoke kindly to him when he didn’t have to. He offered to help with no chance of recompense. 

And here Maul was, guiding him through darkness. Saving him. 

Saving all of them. 

Shame welled up in Obi Wan’s chest. 

How could Obi Wan tell Maul that when he’d come to free him he’d been so relieved he barely thought of the other prisoners? He had thought only of the weight being lifted off himself, in the scant seconds before Maul brought up the idea of freeing everyone. How could he call himself a jedi when he was so self centered?

When he’d opened his eyes and found his friend looking down at him, half hidden in his familiar poncho, he’d been confused. But the Force whispered of Maul, of bright eyes and vicious determination, and he hadn’t been afraid for even a moment. 

Maul was comfortable, in the same way a nexu would be to those familiar with it. He was dangerous to be certain, but he’d never hurt Obi Wan. He’d only ever helped him, from the moment they had met on the Monument, when he’d been thrown into Mauls arms. 

Obi Wan grasped Maul’s poncho as he trailed after him. His other hand held his lightsaber. 

“If you throw up, I don’t have anything to clean your mouth with,” was the only warning Obi Wan got when they returned to the slave bunks. Maul pulled a knife from his boot, the movement something Obi Wan felt more than saw, and slit the guads throats. 

Obi Wan should have mourned their loss. Any good jedi would have. 

But his back stung, and Guerra’s haunted words whispered through his mind, and the pain of the miners and the death that permeated the air choked down any grief he would have for the slavers. Obi Wan was sickened to realize he would have killed them too if he could have. 

“The light, Little Jedi.” 

Obi Wan, somewhere between grief-sick and warm whenever Maul called his that, lifted his saber and ignited it. 

In the pale blue glow hallowed faces watched the three of them. 

“We’re leaving,” was all he said. 

“The collars,” started one slave, a human who had lost his eye fighting the other day. 

“They’re off,” Maul said shortly. “And if you’re that worried, here,” he held up something shaped vaguely like a wrench. Obi Wan stayed still when Maul reached for his collar again. The soft leather of his gloves ran across Obi Wan’s throat before the wrench found its way across a seam he hadn’t noticed. There was a click and the collar fell off in two pieces. 

Silence fell. Then, one by one, starting with Guerra, the rest of the slaves approached. Maul unlocked their collars. He set them all free. 

“What is your name?” One of them asked at last, their voice hoarse and rough. 

Obi Wan’s companion regarded him carefully. 

“...Maul,” he said at length. 

The word spread through the slaves in the whisper. Maul hunched his shoulders and shoved the wrench into a togruta’s hands. 

“It’s a magnet lock,” he said gruffly. “Fit it around the edges.” 

He stalked away, and was followed by the rest of the newly freed slaves. 

A young twi’lek women, one scarred across her face, stopped them. There were tears in her eyes. A single one fell from the left and she wiped it away before touching it to Maul’s cheek. Maul twitched away from her, his hand flying to his blaster, but he didn’t draw. 

“You have broken our chains,” she said quietly. “May water find you in the desert, and the sun find you in the snow.” 

Obi Wan didn’t understand, and the look on Maul’s shadowed face said that he didn’t either, but he inclined his head all the same. For someone who boiled with anger all the time he was remarkably patient. 

Obi Wan had never seen him take his temper out on someone who hadn’t wronged him first. 

They make their way through the darkness. More than once did Maul had Obi Wan extinguish his saber before guards rounded the corner. In the shadows he draw his knife and snuffed their lives out. He didn’t fire his blaster once. It would have made too much noise, and given away his position. 

Where had Maul come from, if Jango had not taught him these things? 

The finally reached the surface. The clear air of the night blanketed the newly freed sentients. 

There was no way to call for a ship to pick them up, but within an hour one came to investigate the silence from the mine. The Offworld insignia blazed on the side. 

Obi Wan helped Maul take the ship by force. Together he guarded Maul with his ‘saber while Maul blasted through their attackers. 

The climbed on boards. 

It was a good sized ship, and once they were further in Obi Wan understood why. 

The ship wasn’t just sent to investigate. It was sent to reinforce them. New slaves took up cages in the cargo hold, and across from them were exotic animals. There were monkey-lizards and glittering vulptex. He saw colorful kiros birds fluttering around one cage. Obi Wan found a tiny varactyl in a cage that squeaked at him when he came closer. It was no bigger than a tooka, and it payed through its cages, as if sensing safety from him. 

Obi Wan broke the lock and took out the little lizard to cradle in his palm. He turn to ask Maul when he thought and paused. 

Maul had stopped in front of a small crate where shadows moved within. 

It took Obi Wan a minute to realize that the shadows were three slim, young creatures that hummed with the Force. Tails lashed through the crate and tiny clawed paws lashed out. Maul growled, something low in the back of his throat. Obi Wan felt it then. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with anger, hurt, sorrow and grief. It swelled the room before reached a crescendo and falling again. 

The fighting from the animals was over. 

Maul opened the crate and three small vornskr, two males and female with a chopped ear and a crooked tail, went tumbling out. 

They circled Maul, rubbing their cheeks along his legs and chirping up at the startled looking boy. 

The moment was ruined when a human woman came back from the front of the ship. The togruta with the locking device followed after her.

“We’re going back to the mainland,” the human said. “You should buckled in.” 

“Thank you,” Obi Wan said with a short bow. 

She nodded once at him and left. 

Obi Wan looked Maul, who finally gave him a crooked, gap toothed grin. 

“Through victory our chains are broken,” he said, the words slow and solemn despite his smile. There was something familiar to them, and the Force hummed its agreement.

Maul had set him free.

#Darth Maul #Maul #darth maul time travel #time travel #star wars time travel #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #qui gon jinn

[gisachi]

#42 for the shinran kissing prompts maybe? (thank you for the nice tags on my art btw 😉💜)

Thanks for this request! 💞 Ahh, what can I say, your doodles are so funny and so lovely to look at!! I’ve never had the proper chance to thank you for your tags on my posts too so I’ll take this opportunity. It makes me really happy that you like what I write ;;_;; So I remembered reading one of your tags saying that you like Domestic!ShinRan so I’mma give that to you rn. I really hope you like this! 🤗

42. Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead. (1,551 words)

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9:00 PM.

It’s automatic, whenever the grandfather clock strikes 9:00 PM. Seconds after the last chime of the bell, he’ll hear the library door open, footsteps lightly approach him, then hundreds of pecks will wordlessly land on his cheek in the midst of his paperwork, disrupting the mind palace he’s put up for hours.

It did surprise him the first time, giving his wife a weirded out ‘What’s with you?’ look, but it doesn’t take a while for Pavlov to prove his theory to him when for the next four or five times, he begins to grow accustomed to this flow of events. He doesn’t even have to look at the clock; he just knows that once the library door clicks, it’s 9 o’clock, and he’s bound to ready his cheeks for the array of kisses that’ll shortly follow.

Though his mind has already been conditioned to this, Shinichi’s yet to admit that that is the most favorite thing he wants from his wife to do. After all, anyone who knows him knows that he must not be disturbed in the middle of his deductions. Well, they can, but at the expense of being ignored, or avoided, or humiliated for feeling like they’re talking to a brick wall.

Thus it has been a universal rule that a working Shinichi is an absolutely-cannot-be-disturbed Shinichi. And his wife knows this for sure.

Yet why? For what purpose is she doing this, persistently giving him something he never asked for? Something she isn’t even sure he wants, or needs?

Tonight is rather a busy night for him. He doesn’t usually bring home extra paperwork from the Department, but this present case - a child kidnapping case - calls for urgency. Since 5 PM, he hasn’t left the Kudo library and has even missed dinner. But hunger is nothing compared to the need for the case to be resolved as soon as possible. Time is the enemy. So for almost three hours, he reads, he closes his eyes, he writes, he thinks. On repeat.

“Yes, Megure-keibu. Yes. Among the suspects only the child’s aunt living in Minato ward can possibly do this. Said she’s never been in touch with the kid for years and- Yes. And yet she knows her routine after school. She’s been spying on her. Right. Please send the Team right away to her house. Be on guard. It’s possible there’s someone with her with a weapon. Mm. Let me know once the suspect is restrained.”

He paces back and forth the library, grave and relentless worry evident in his face. He waits, and waits, and waits. Forty minutes of frantic silence and tension, hunger and thirst unnoticed. For forty minutes his world zeroes in on just him and this case, not in the least mindful of his environment, of any sound other than his nervous heart and seeing nothing other than the flash of memories from back when he - and she - was young.

Finally, the awaited call arrives.

“Shinichi-kun, the culprit has been apprehended. Good job. We’ll hear more details on this tomorrow. You may now retire for the night.”

Thank goodness.

Slumping into his chair, he heaves a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Megure-keibu.”

He checks his phone clock. 8:58 PM. Wow, it took almost four hours. He doesn’t even realize. Oh, the effect of child kidnapping cases on him.

He stays in his chair, unmoving. That’s when it hits. The fatigue. The hunger. Minor unfinished paperwork still lays on his desk but he figures he needs a little breather.

For once he actually seeks for rest.

Ran.

8:59 PM.

How convenient. Now he just has to wait for one more minute. Then the grandfather clock will chime and the door will click and this time, he’s ready to welcome whatever intrusion there’ll be, as long as it’s from her.

Ran.

He closes his eyes, chuckles breathily. Hah.

For the first time, is he really actively waiting for her to come?

He waits, and waits, and waits.

Any time now.

Aaaany time.

9:01 PM.

9:10 PM. 9:15 PM.

9:20 PM.

Maybe it’s the tiredness acting up, and he’s not supposed to be cranky because he has just solved a kidnapping case, but right now, he cannot stop his brows from furrowing and his lips from curving upside down.

Where the hell is she?

Releasing an impatient groan, he decides to just continue with the minor paperwork. Maybe she’s already asleep; doesn’t wait for him anymore since he sure is taking his time with this. He mechanically grabs his pen, flips some pages over, and stares blankly at words.

Man... he’s pretty bummed.

“Done with the case?”

He jerks from his seat, heart leaping a little. Trying to keep a straight expression, he slowly turns to the door, and there she is. The woman he’s secretly waiting for.

Ran.

Shinichi watches her walk his direction before finally realizing how much he’s been staring, and then returns his attention to his paperwork.

“...Late.” He mumbles, so low she barely hears it.

She stops, quirks an eyebrow. “Oh. Were you waiting for me?”

“Wh— N-no. Not at all.”

How childish he might’ve sounded just now.

Trying to push past her teasing stare, he pretends to go over the piles of paper in front of him one by one.

But Ran knows her husband too well. She approaches his desk, and, after a faint giggle, gives a light peck on his visibly flustered cheeks.

“I tucked Sakura and Shinji to bed,” she says, giving an answer to his unspoken question. “Took me quite a while this time.”

He tilts his head, half-facing her. “And? Are they asleep now?”

“Yes.”

“Mm.”

She leans in for another peck and Shinichi instinctively offers his cheek, closing his eyes. Feeling her subtle smile against his skin, he cannot help but smile, too, as she gives him three more. Ran stands straight and sighs.

“You skipped dinner, Shinichi. I’ll heat up your food, okay?” She steps away, only to be abruptly stopped by a stubborn tug of his hand on her wrist.

“Ran, that’s...not enough.”

Swiveling his chair to face her, he opens his arms, catching Ran dumbfounded from where she stands. Then, without any word, she retraces her steps, slowly, until she’s standing between his legs, and his arms wrap around her waist.

“I was.”

“Was what?”

“Waiting.”

Cheeks dusting with red, Shinichi holds her gaze as she stares him down his seat; her eyes wide at the unexpected declaration before narrowing into slits.

“Mmm, really? M’not bothering you with your work?” She nudges her head to his desk.

“Nope.”

“But that’s not what I was getting before.”

“Hmm?”

“You've never reciprocated my kisses then,” she puffs her cheeks.

“Well…”

"You didn’t even notice I checked up on you before 9 o’clock. You were too engrossed with the case, spanning the room back and forth like a madman.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, so I figured it’s probably better not to disturb you until you’re done with it...don’t wanna risk being yelled at.”

“I’m not-“

“Oh, Shinichi. I understand, you don’t want any disturbance when solving cases, not even from your wife—“

He cuts her off with a kiss on the lips, dissolving Ran’s further complaints in his mouth.

“That’s not true,” he declares, then kisses her again, chastely. “Keep on doing that, okay? ‘Disturbing’ me or whatever...Even if I look serious,” another kiss. “Or annoyed.” Kiss. “Or cannot be bothered.” Long kiss. “Just...don’t stop doing that.”

He pauses for a good minute, admiring how she looks with her brows still wrinkled but face and ears now more crimson than his.

Ah. Yes— Now it’s clear.

What a shame for not having realized this sooner.

Breaking off his loving gaze, Ran pinches his cheeks, pulling them like dough. “Who says anything about stopping? Who’s gonna tuck you to bed when that happens?”

“Oh okay,” he chuckles, “so you’re really doing this whole thing to annoy me, huh?”

“Of course. Is there any other reason?”

He kisses her again, smiles fondly against her lips. “Because you love me?”

She returns the kiss, reciprocates the smile he doesn’t even bother hiding. “Now you’re being cocky.”

Hands intertwined, foreheads together, eyes closed, soft giggles lingering, husband and wife drown in each other’s comfort, forgetting about the time and hunger and everything else, his long day ending with her, at last. No one can take away this moment from them this time. Not even the minor unfinished paperwork.

Yes. This woman. His wife. Ran.

The only distraction he’ll ever want, and ever need.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what the case was all about?” He speaks softly, a little above a whisper.

“What is it?”

“Child kidnapping case.”

“Oh no,” Ran separates from him, expression visibly concerned, “and you’ve solved it?”

“Yes. The TMPD already apprehended the culprit.”

“That’s a relief,” she returns her forehead to his. “Though Shinichi, honestly I’ve never seen you so invested in a case before.”

“Yeah. It hits close to home.”

“What do you mean?”

Silence, then he takes a deep breath.

“Did you know that you were almost kidnapped when we were in Kindergarten?”

“I was almost...what?!”

“Let’s save that bedtime story for later. Dinner first?”

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#shinran #fanfic #OMG I saw your recent doodle and the second one looks almost like the kiss position in this prompt!! AHAHAHAhahskdhs #bless #hope this is ok!! #before i started writing this i read a very angsty Shinran fic #so after that i was like WELP need to feed my heart with ShinRan fluff!!! #and now i have this #been revising this for hours so imma publish now so theres no more backing down lmao #kiss prompts

[bybibucky]

Give Me All - Pt. 6

Bucky Barnes x reader Modern AU

   After a series of disappointing wanna-be doms, you give this last one a chance and he not only makes you forget every man you’ve ever been with but also your own name.

   word count: 4.8k

   warnings: smut (18+ please), language, daddy kink, BDSM, oral (f receiving), rimming (f receiving), spanking, ruined orgasm, wax play, breathplay, subspace

    A/N:    I    am    back    baby    WHOO      there are hornets building a home on the screen in front of my window and I don’t like it     at all      also we are about 30k into this fic and I don’t want to know what that says about me haha

 While Bucky was an amazing dom, he was an expert at aftercare. He knew exactly how to bring you down from your high, how to get you back into the real world from subspace. It was a routine he was still working on but he’d found out a few special things and knew when you required them the most. And after this particular scene, were you especially in need for his attention and comfort.

“This is going to be the most intense I’ve ever gone with you,” he’d told you, “it is especially important that you tell me when it’s becoming too much.”

You’d told him you were up for it, which you honestly were, but you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was it that made him this anxious to stress your bond of trust. Then, he pulled out the candles.

He sat you down in your usual playroom in the club, the plush carpet tickling your skin, and talked to you for a long time about everything he had planned and its risks, to all of which you agreed and acknowledged, before he made you pick colours and scent.

But he didn’t start with the candles right away. First, he had you lie back on the carpet where he had all the access he needed to strip you of your clothes and underwear. There were no restraints or rules when he coated his strong hands in massage oil and began to rub them over your stomach up to your breasts. You sighed blissfully as his fingers ran across your nipples. He lightly blew on them, making them even more tender from the cool air.

“Daddy, Sir!” you gasped and he spurred you on.

“Go on, pet,” he said in a low voice, “go under for me. Let go.”

The room was hot and stuffy, thick from the tension in the air. It wouldn’t take long for you fully submit, you felt it deep within your core like never before.

“I want you to let go, today, baby girl,” Bucky said, “You’ll be safe with me.”

You opened your eyes to look fiercely into his. “I trust you completely.”

Bucky smiled. “Good girl.” And his hands wandered down in their quest to have you shuddering beneath them, finding your thighs, spreading your legs, before they went up towards where you wanted him the most. He didn’t give in right away although you knew he wanted to. This was going to go on forever, you sensed.

You weren’t close just yet, though definitely getting there, and when he pressed his hands against your clit hard, spreading your wetness all over, rubbing and rubbing, he leant down towards your ear and whispered, a smirk on his lips, “cum for me.”

And you obliged. You hadn’t been fighting it off until he granted you permission like you usually had to. This time, you came on command. Thrashing and moaning under his hands you came, the release just for him.

“Oh shit, baby girl.” Bucky’s voice was hoarse; he was holding himself back, you were sure. “So good for me. Let me clean you up.”

You noticed his absence as he went to the adjacent bathroom to get a towel but barely felt him cleaning your body with it. Too preoccupied was your mind with the aftermath of your orgasm. You were gone for. He’d fuck you into oblivion, maybe even more so than ever, but you weren’t afraid. He had you.

You’d vowed to let go tonight, but you were already under mostly. With how exhausting your week had been, how dark your thoughts had been lately, the subspace he got you into often was a welcoming place.

“Colour, baby?” His eyes were searching yours for a sign of discomfort, but you felt better than ever before.

“Very green.”

He gave you a smile again. “Good girl. You ready for more?”

You nodded. Bucky’s hands were clean and dry once more, but only until he brought them back to your where your legs were still spread for him. He got lost for a moment, toying with your still sensitive clit. You whined high in your throat when he rubbed you in a particularly good angle and he stayed there, giving in to your pleasure.

“Don’t come,” he told you and you didn’t have it in you to protest. Although his orders were cruel at times, you loved following each one.

You shook your head and he leant down to kiss you. Bucky kept it sweet, letting you bury your hands in his hair, as you made out like teenagers – safe for his hands on your pussy, of course.

“Turn over for me,” he said, “ass up.”

The rough fabric of his black jeans scratched our skin when he pulled you in by the hips. “You feel what you do to me?”

You nodded just barely, the movement restricted by the way he had shoved your face into the carpet. For that, he placed a harsh slap on your arse.

“How many times do I have to tell you to use your fucking words, huh, pet?”

“I’m sorry, Sir!” You ended your sentence on a shout, having been spanked again.

“That’s what I thought.” Bucky ground his crotch over your pussy, pulling your hips impossibly closer. “Will you be good for me now, baby girl? Follow all my rules?”

You gasped, “yes, daddy!”

There was no response other than him bending down to lap at your folds. You all but pushed yourself against him, his mouth on you was your favourite thing in the world. The carpet was burning your skin, your knees already aching and your face would soon follow but all you cared about was the pleasure.

“Daddy, please,” you begged for nothing in particular, only more. More of him, his hands, his smell, his tongue, his beard scratching your thighs, his everything.

And then, he spread your ass cheeks with his large hands, and licked a fat stripe up to your rear, circling your hole instantly.

Your surprised scream echoed through the room. “Shit, fuck!” Having not expected this, the shock of the new sensation sent you over the edge on accident. And Bucky pulled back to ruin your orgasm for you.

“Oh God, no,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry, daddy, I didn’t mean to, couldn’t help it.” Tears were threatening to spill, but Bucky distracted you with three more slaps to your ass. “You’re not being very good today, are you?” Disappointment lay heavily in his voice and he wore it with an unimpressed crease between his brows. “You’re not following my rules at all.”

“I’m sorry, daddy,” you promised, eyes searching out his eyes to prove it.

“That was your second strike,” he said, tone cold as ice to bring a shiver down your spine, “you disappoint me again, we stop.”

Your eyes widened. “Daddy–“

“Don’t you dare talk back at me.”

“No, Sir.”

He gave you a curt nod, settling back in between your thighs. “Now let’s try this again.”

The moment he went back to his actions at your other hole, you had to fight another building orgasm. This was so intimate, the sheer emotional weight of it had you close again. When he added his fingers, pushing them into your dripping cunt, you had to bite down on your tightly-closed fist to distract yourself from the pleasure.

Bucky pulled back. “Nuh-uh, I want to hear every noise you make,” he tutted, “don’t hide from me.”

You couldn’t keep it in any longer. “Daddy, please, let me cum. Shit, I need it so bad. Please.” Eyes closed, you were begging shamelessly. “Daddy, it feels so good. I need to cum. Please.”

“Begging won’t get you anywhere, you haven’t been a good girl, you know that.”

Grinding back, you practically rode his face, when he gave in to you again. Humming against your core, he shamelessly ate out both of your holes with a vigour that you should have been used to by now but that surprised you every single time he did it nonetheless. He was so good at this. Every cell in your body was fighting against your impending orgasm. Don’t cum, don’t cum. Fuck.

“That’s right, baby. Don’t cum.”

You’d said that out loud. His fingers were pumping into you in the most delicious way, rubbing up on all the places you needed him the most. You rode the edge like it was the last thing you were going to do but you needed the release more than you needed air. “Please, I’m begging you. I’ll do anything, daddy. Please just let me cum.”

Bucky pulled back altogether but continued his work rubbing your clit, fucking you with his fingers. “Anything, huh?” He smirked, although you couldn’t see. “Then why don’t you cum?”

It took you an embarrassingly long time to process his words but once you did, your orgasm catapulted you into a whole other dimension. Stars exploding behind your lids as you had your eyes drawn shut tightly, you all but exploded on his fingers. You had your face shoved into the carpet by the sheer force of it, shuddering as he brought you back down with gentle circles on your clit, withdrawing his fingers.

Bucky placed a playful kiss to your ass cheek, before carefully flipping you over again. Eyes searching yours, he asked, “you with me?”

You could muster a blissful smile, your own eyes glossed over just a bit, and nodded.

He mirrored your smile. “Colour?”

“Green,” you mumbled happily.

“Good,” Bucky replied, “I want to try something new.”

He pulled out the candles then, and you knew this was going to be, how had he put it? Intense.

The expensive smell of ripe strawberries with a hint of white chocolate filled the room, making the air even more stuffy so that now, your lungs felt heavy and your head almost like it didn’t belong to you. Bucky had your legs spread and knelt in between them without touching you. The first candle, one of the ones you’d chosen, hovered above your body a few inches away from your skin but you could feel the sharp warmth radiating off of it. Before he tipped it over, he put out the flame as to not burn you. With one last look, making sure that you wanted this, he let a few experimental drops pool on your stomach.

You inhaled sharply at the sting that instantly followed.

“Colour?” Bucky checked again.

When the initial pain slowly began to blend into pleasure, you knew the answer. “Green.”

Bucky relaxed. “Good girl.”

The smile you offered quickly slid off your face, when new drops of hot wax landed on your skin. With every one of them, the feeling became more and more bearable until you felt yourself enjoying it. Being at his absolute mercy always brought a thrill that you couldn’t find anywhere else, and this time, it was even more intense. With one small move of his hand, he could seriously hurt you but you were so certain that he wouldn’t, you felt yourself float even higher until you were finally entirely under in the space you’d never allowed yourself to enter as much as you did now. You trusted him, and that was the ultimate turn-on.

The pain was gone fully, and you were all too aware of how the plush carpet felt against your back, how his own warmth reached out to you from where he sat between your legs, how the hardened, cold candle wax stuck to your skin, how it cracked under the movements of your breathing, and how much you loved him.

“I love you, too.” Bucky leant forward to press to your stomach, tenderly stroking your thighs in the process. “So good for me, baby. I’m so proud.”

You nodded; it was all you managed, but Bucky understood.

Turns out, peeling the wax off again had a whole other pain to it that you’d thought. As Bucky worked carefully, the hard substance pulled at your slightly damaged skin. Although, he followed every inch with kisses, and that made it much more pleasurable. He always played with contrasts like this, knowing it fucked with your mind. The way he fucked you hard but kept his movements slow, how he spanked you fiercely but told you he loved you, and, your favourite, how his hands were both warm and cold at the same time.

He pulled at one of your nipples with his teeth, drawing a surprised moan from your lips. Bucky was done playing, he wanted to go on. “Can you stand?” he asked, although he didn’t give you the time to reply as he picked you up and carried over to the bed.

“Hm?” you mumbled at the sudden movement.

Bucky looked down at you. “Are you still with me?” he asked.

It took you a while to answer but eventually, you nodded.

“Can you give me a colour?”

You were floating so high you weren’t certain you even have a body anymore. There was a permanent smile stretched across your lips, and your mind was occupied by one thing only: him. So the answer wasn’t very difficult to find, only hard to put into action.

“Y/N?” There was a hand around your chin tilting your head up so you could meet Bucky’s eyes.

“Green,” you breathed.

“Are you sure? Let me bring you some water.”

The cold liquid was at your lips a moment later and you gulped most of it down, not having realised how thirsty you’d become. It helped clear your head enough to ask for a kiss.

Bucky obliged happily and pulled you closer, his hands cupping your face. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips and kissed you lazily for a few more minutes, before he pulled away.

“I love you, too”, you then said and Bucky couldn’t help the smile that lit up his whole face, that much you noticed even in your hazy state of mind.

“Are you ready for the next part?”

He made you drink some more water before he went on. During your kissing, he’d pulled you up on his lap. You noticed by the way you had to tilt your head down to reach his lips. The fabric of his jeans was still scratching your thighs when you rocked forward against his crotch. Bucky was still hard in his jeans, to a point where it must be painful now, as he hadn’t done anything to relief the pressure. You instantly felt bad. As you moved down his legs to get better access to the zipper, Bucky took hold of your hands.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m returning the favour, I’ve already come three times, and–“

He tightened the hold on your wrists. “Which one of us is calling the shots again?”

Your head dropped in shame. “You, Sir. I’m sorry, daddy,” you whispered. “Is this my third strike?”

Bucky lifted up your hands so he could kiss them gently. “No, doll. You are so good for me right now, wanting to please me. I’m not mad.”

Relief washed over you, but you shook your head to get rid of the feeling. Looking up at him, you waited for his next command.

“Give me a second,” he said and stood up from the bed to take off his pants. He came back with your collar. Your eyes widened and your heart set out a beat. He hadn’t put it on you again after the last time, when he had gifted it to you.

“Do you want to put this on?” This was always a question he asked before the big things. You nodded vigorously and could barely stop yourself from reaching out to it.

With a proud smile on his lips, Bucky gently strapped the expensive leather around your throat and tightened the clasp just in the right place, where you felt it with every breath you took. It was tighter than last time, you noticed but found this better now. You had your eyes closed during his actions, feeling the collar against your skin, his breath mix with yours, his warmth radiating and keeping you warm in the slightly chilly room. Your nipples stood to attention and Bucky leant down to nibble that the skin of your breasts, pulling at your nipple with his fingers. “So good for me,” he mumbled against your skin so quietly it was barely audible. Blood was rushing in your ears and you were floating again, almost as high as before.

“Do you trust me, darling?”

“Yes,�� you whispered, nodding so you could feel the collar strain pull at your neck lightly.

Your eyes were still closed, tightly now, when he pulled you up on his lap again. He was sitting up against the headboard of the bed while you sought out balance with your hands gripping his shoulders.

“Open your eyes,” Bucky ordered softly, “I want to see them.”

You obliged, and could see the desire in his own, pupils blown with lust and hunger.

“I want you on my cock, now,” he said and your heart skipped a beat. The aching pulse between your legs you felt for him grew stronger, desperate to feel him inside you. Bucky tightly gripped your hips and lifted you up over his cock, before giving you a nod to go on.

You were holding onto his shoulders for dear life, the muscles straining under your fingers, as you let yourself sink down on his length. The movement was so slow your thighs were burning with it and you’d for sure be sore the next day, but none of that crossed your mind. You were focused on him only, the way he stretched out your walls in the most delicious way, settling perfectly at the just the right places, you were almost close again.

Bucky pulled your hips back and forth, so that there was enough friction to have you both panting and moaning, holding onto each other, but not enough for you to slip out of him. “Keep up that rhythm, pet,” he said.

Then, his hands were on your neck. You were struggling already to continue your movements. Certainly, your brain would soon turn to mush. It was more intense than you were used to and it only grew stronger when, just like last time, he pulled the collar back, so the heart-shaped metal was pushing against your throat. It wasn’t enough to constrict your airway, but it was enough for you to throw your head back, moaning helplessly. You couldn’t stop it if you tried.

“You like that, baby?”

A high-pitched whine was the only reply you managed but Bucky wore a proud smile nonetheless.

“You want more?”

Your vision was swimming so you closed your eyes, ignoring it. “More,” you breathed.

“I’m giving you ten seconds,” he said, and wrapped his whole hand – the flesh one – around your throat and squeezed. It wasn’t hard enough to bruise but hard enough to make breathing difficult for you, and when you stopped being able to bring air into your lungs, he counted backwards from ten. Eyes locked on you to make sure you were alright, he brushed back the strands of hair that had fallen from your braid and into your face. The feeling was barely there with all the other sensations you were going through, but you breathlessly hummed in bliss. There was little sound to it and Bucky took it as a sign of distress.

He let go of you at once, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “Too much?” he asked, suddenly slightly panicked, “tell me your colour.”

You shook your head. Both, to make him stop worrying and to clear your thoughts enough to choke out a “green.”

Bucky relaxed instantly. “You are being so good for me, baby girl. I love you.” The words were followed by a gentle kiss to your lips, which you instantly returned, almost on instinct.

“Do you want to try again?”

“Mhm.” Words were out of the question now.

He had his flesh hand around your throat a moment later and your eyes fell shut again. Before he tightened his hold, Bucky let out a strangled moan.

“Baby, slow down.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone and you only understand what he was talking about when both his hands gripped your hips tightly to halter your movements. You had been rocking your hips much faster now, unknowingly chasing an orgasm you weren’t allowed. You mumbled an apology but Bucky beat you to it.

“It’s okay, just go slower. I don’t want to cum yet.” And with that, he had both his hands on your neck, thumbs crossing over your windpipe, your pulse heavily beating under his hold. He didn’t give you a chance to prepare, when he squeezed again, stopping your breathing. He could feel tiny amounts of air dragging into your lungs under his palm and he couldn’t believe his luck. You moaned with the last amount of air you still had in your lungs and vaguely listened to him counting to ten.

This was much better that you had imagined. Trust was the feeling you felt first and foremost, even lust and love came after at this moment. You were fully at his mercy though all you could see when your eyes crossed paths with his was pure adoration and pride, and love. He wasn’t going to harm you ever, and that knowledge almost sent you over the edge. But the ten seconds were over and he let go again. Pulling air into your lungs felt almost too intense now, everything around you suddenly felt closer, it was like your nerves had grown tenfold, everything was heightened beyond your imagination.

“Daddy,” was all the only word you could think of to bring across your thoughts. But he understood just fine.

He let you rock your hips again the way you wanted. “One more time, baby? One more time and then you can cum.”

You nodded vigorously at that. “You, daddy.”

Bucky pressed a hazy kiss to your temple. “Yes, doll. I’ll cum, too.” He took a second just to get lost in the way you felt around him, squeezing him like he had your neck, eyes closed, meeting your thrusts. Then, his hand was back at your throat, the other around your lower back, pulling your closer, helping you ride him. “Baby, I can’t wait to have you cum on my cock. You feel so good.”

You nodded helplessly, so close to the edge you could practically taste it.

“I’ll give you fifteen seconds this time, okay?”

You weren’t in the condition to answer it but you wanted it, so much. Nodding again, because that was the only reply you could give, you screwed your eyes shut when he tightened his fingers around your neck one last time.

“Baby, fifteen seconds then you can cum,” Bucky said breathlessly, “God, I’m so close.”

He was counting again, and with every passing second, you were floating higher and higher, losing all grip to anything and everything around you except Bucky. You felt the orgasm creep up slowly but so, so strongly from deep within you, shooting up into every single nerve ending in your body, and had Bucky not finished counting, you wouldn’t have been able to hold it off any longer.

“Fifteen, baby,” he gasped, “cum for me, darling. Cum.”

You didn’t need to be told twice as the orgasm washed over you in a powerful wave that catapulted you into a feeling of nothing but absolute bliss. Bucky emptied himself inside you, bottoming out completely, holding you close. You felt every drop of his hot load filling you up, marking you as his, and you were coming still. It seemed to go on forever without becoming too much. You were utterly gone for and didn’t notice anything around you except for that bliss.

This time, it took you much longer than usual to return to a fully awake state. Bucky would tell you later that while you were conscious enough to answer his questions, your replies had only been in the form of weak whines and moans. Whenever he touched you, you slightly jumped at the contact, overstimulated to the maximum, but sought out the comfort a second later.

He had a whole routine for this. Aftercare was the most important part, he had told you once, and while you rarely noticed most of it, you knew he had a deliberate system for every situation. Today, he lifted you off his cock and ever so gently manoeuvred you onto the bed so you were comfortable. He went over to the bathroom to quickly clean himself off and wet a washcloth for you. He cleaned you carefully, starting with your face to get rid of the sweat and tears that had dried there throughout the session, and worked is way down your body. You hummed lowly at his touches and the kisses he left on your skin once an area was clean. Cautiously, he was quick in sensitive areas to avoid hurting you in any way. Bucky did this mainly for comfort rather than cleaning, as you were going to take a shower later or he was going to draw you a bath soon enough.

Once he was done, he drew up the blankets on the bed to cover you, you tended to get cold when coming down from your high. Bucky wrapped his arms around you, gently stroking your skin, all the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He told you how proud he was, what a good girl you had been for him, how much he loved you.

You began to stir awake then, and Bucky could watch your eyes get clearer, as your words began to be actual words rather than noises. He fondly studied you, making sure he hadn’t been too rough or demanding. And today, he asked you some questions.

“It wasn’t too much, was it?” There was a crease between his brows that you gently smoothed out with your thumb, shaking your head.

“Perfect,” you mumbled, “loved it.”

He knew you were going to be like this for a while. You usually needed around twenty minutes to be yourself again, but today had been more demanding on you. Bucky pressed a few kisses to your temple, drawing you in closer. “You were really under today, weren’t you?”

You nodded against him. “Felt like an out-of-body experience.” You started giggling.

“What?” he asked, a smile on his lips.

“I feel like a pile of over-cooked noodles,” you said, “I think you have to dress me and carry me to the car.”

Bucky laughed at that. “Who says we’re leaving anytime soon? I was planning on holding you here until you’re solid enough to walk again.” He moved, keeping himself up on his elbow to look down at you, suddenly serious again. He had to make sure you were fully okay before he was going to let you out of his sight. “I didn’t force you into subspace, right? I know I did a lot of very intense things today.”

You shook your head, lifting a hand to cup his cheek. “No, I don’t think I even noticed when I was under, I just was at some point. But I loved what we did. It made me trust you so much I thought I was going to cry.”

Bucky tilted his head. “You did cry,” he said, “well, not cry, but there were a few tears here and there.”

You shrugged. “What am I like when I’m under?” you asked.

He kissed you briefly before lying back down beside you. “It’s like you’re awake but unconscious at the same time, kind of hard to explain,” he said, “because you move and everything but when I ask you something, you need a long time to process it and then when you answer, it’s mainly nods or noises.”

“Am I weird like that?” you wanted to know, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Not at all,” Bucky replied truthfully, “at first, I was terrified that I had broken you, that I had gone too far or hurt you, but then I realised that you simply go like this because you need to. And to know that you trust me enough to fully submit to me, that you let go of all inhibitions and let me be in charge, that’s the best feeling in the world, I’m telling you.”

“Trusting you like this takes a lot of pressure off me, I find. I can’t make a wrong decision, I don’t have to think at all, I just do what you tell me to.”

There was a beat of silence before Bucky said, “we really are a match made in heaven, aren’t we?” to which you could only agree. Giggling like school girls, you got lost again in a frenzy of kissing and touching before deciding it was time to go home.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes au #avengers imagine #avengers fanfic #avengers x reader #sebastian stan x reader #Sebastian stan fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #sebastian stan imagine

[razorblade180]

Stormy Day

[A Cave]

It’s pouring down rain with thunder raging and lightning dancing across the sky. The Lasting Embers huntsman wait patiently for it to calm down.

Nora:Wow it’s really pouring down out there.

Ruby:You seem happy about it.

Nora:Tenzen and I always watched big storms like this together; even trained in them. *smiles* he’d always push himself to the absolute limit to the point I seemed like the calm one. “The son of the Lightning Empress should command it just as well!” That was always the excuse.

Yang:*smiles* You think if it’s storming back home he’s pushing in limits?

Nora:Oh most definitely. I’m not worried though. I left very specific instructions for stormy days.

Yang:He’ll follow them?

Nora:They weren’t for him.....

[Vale Forest]

The woods are almost flooded with the dirt turned to mud. Tenzen stands in a slightly open area drenched from head to toe in nothing but his track pants. Both arms are a little covered in smoke and red. From a distance Yujin watches her friend as he breathes raggedly. Clearly, things are getting out of hand.

Tenzen:*huff* I know you’re there Jin.....what happened to the training rule?

Yujin:I know what I said but you haven’t come home in hours so.....kinda twisting my arm here. *looks at his arm*

Tenzen:*slightly trembling* I’m fine, go back before you get sick or zapped.

Yujin:Trust me, I’m very warm and the trees should get hit before us. Unless you’re some kind of lightning rod or-

Tenzen:..........

Yujin:Oh my gods you’re attracting lightning to you!? Are you insane!!!?

Tenzen:Possibly, only way to get used to higher voltage for longer periods of time. I....I can take it.

Yujin:Do I have to remind you that there’s a difference between elemental resistance and proof? Just like I can only take so much fire, at some point your body can only handle so much voltage. Trying this is crazy!

Tenzen:But I have to try it regardless! *claps hands together*

His aura surges as he activated his semblance. A giant yellow bolt of lightning strikes down at him hard and changes to the color of his aura. Both of his hands start getting redder as he focuses all the energy towards them. Wind and rain around the immediate area sizzles from the power.

Tenzen:(That’s it....no just keep the intensity.... controlled.)

Yujin:*lilac eyes* (I thought I was intense...) at this rate you’re doing more harm than good! Take it slow and-

Tenzen:I CAN’T!!!!

Yujin:......

Tenzen:If I was any weaker than what I was during the attack then people would’ve died. My mom would’ve died! I can’t afford to be barely good enough. I need to be stronger if I wanna protect people; if I want to keep you safe.

Those words caught her off gaurd. Since when did his dream of being there to save the day start to sound like a burden? Sure his heart was in the right place but Yujin wasn’t used to this serious side of Tenzen. By know means did she hate it but his cheerful attitude is what made him different; no, better than her in Yujin’s eyes. Seeing it leave was a bit saddening to say the least. Even so, she didn’t leave or even looked upset. Instead of those things it was time to break out the instructions Nora gave her. They were super simple and apparently full proof; she walked closer.

Tenzen:What are you doing!?

Yujin:Making my best friend think for a second. I’m not moving from this spot. Not even if I guy struck by lightning, so you either make sure you can control it or stop all together.

*lightning strikes three feet away*

Yujin:*internal panic* I guess I might figure out how durable I am today.

Tenzen:Jin this isn’t something to play around with.

Yujin:*raises bracelet in the air*.....

Tenzen:Yujin!!!!!!!

Yujin:......Don’t put so much pressure on yourself. We’re friends right? I’m not gonna have you face anything alone if I can help it. Last time I checked the two of us are Sparks and Embers; only right we stick together. *smiles* That means we both take stupid risks.

Tenzen:.......*powers down*

Tenzen:Sparks and Embers is a really lame name you know? *smirking*

Yujin:Says the guy that has his stage name be two letters of his name. *bracelet sparking* I like to think the name is-*pushed*

•

Yang:You told my daughter to try to get zapped!?

Nora:It’s fine....

Yang:What!? How can you be sure?

Nora:I know my baby and he’ll never put her in needless danger. Plus I don’t think he’s realized it yet.

Yang:Realized what.....?

•

As she flew back she witnessed a bolt of lightning come down right where she was standing; where Tenzen is currently standing. Before Yujin could even scream she was left speechless as he held out his left arm and countered it with his own lightning strike. It was almost like his cut right up the middle and back into the sky. Tenzen quickly ran over to pick her up into a bridal carry.

Tenzen:Are you okay!?!?!?

Yujin:*blushing*That was.....totally badass. Like holy crap you just.....yes.

Tenzen:*shaking his head* Most people would be scared out their mind right now.

Yujin:Guess I’m not most people.

Tenzen:Tell me something I don’t know. Let’s go home.

Yujin:About time, I’m drenched.

Tenzen:*snickers*

Yujin:Get your head out the gutter!

Tenzen:You said it, not me. *starts running*

“He’s already dethroned me”

#rwby #ruby rose #yujin xiao long #yang xiao long #nora valkyrie #rwby lasting embers #sunflowyr 2.0

[artificialqueens]

Living in Sin (All the Rules are Changing Now), chapter 3: Make Me Feel Right (branjie) - writworm42, holtzmanns

A/N: Last chapter, Vanessa returned to the strip club where Brooke works, and they decided to go on a date. This chapter, they go out for dinner and then to Brooke’s place for dessert.

WRIT: WOW Y'ALL!!! It’s here!!! The last chapter!! So sorry for the delay on it. Everybody say THANK YOU HOLTZ bc without her (aggressively) suggestin it and agreeing to help me write this last chapter, it wouldn’t exist. I love u, binch, I ain’t never gonna stop lovin u, binch

Title from Only Girl in the World by Rihanna. Thank you thank you thank you Barbie for being an amazing cheerleader and a beta, you are second to none!!! <3 Hope you enjoy!!!

HOLTZ: HI HOLTZMANNS POPPIN IN WRIT IS A GEM AND I LOVE THEM AND WRITING THIS WITH THEM OK ADIOS ENJOY

Brooke counts down the minutes until her shift ends after Vanessa leaves, every passing song making her more and more restless. The minute the DJ announces last call, Brooke disappears, foregoing the chance to earn a last few hundred bucks to rush off towards the dressing room where she knows her friends are already waiting.

“GUYS!” The doors swing open way harder than Brooke means for them to, and she cringes at the slam that echoes around the narrow, concrete-walled room. “Sorry.”

Yvie waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Now what, you look like you’re about to jump out of your costume.”

Brooke’s already started pacing in front of the makeup stations, and she can’t help it because all that her mind is doing is replaying her last interaction with Vanessa. “She came back-”

“Lord, finally.” Asia rolls her eyes, but is unable to keep from smiling a little despite herself. “I was beginning to think I might have to name my first child Vanessa, from how much you were talking about her.”

Brooke blushes. “I wasn’t talking about her that much-”

“‘ Oh, Vanessa said this, oh, Vanessa did that,’” Yvie throws her hand over her heart dramatically and Brooke goes over to shove her side. “So what, did she say anything else to you this time, or are we just gonna keep replaying the same three sentences and calling you ‘Mommy’ for the rest of the night?”

“Oh, sure, I’m the only one who’s been weird and gay over a girl.” Brooke rolls her eyes as she plops down at her station, grabbing her makeup wipes as she adds with a wicked grin, “The name ‘Scarlet’ mean anything to you, my dear Yvette?”

Yvie reddens. “That’s diff–Stop calling me that!”

The girls around them all snicker, and then silence settles on the room, everyone caught back up in their end-of-night routines.

Plastique swivels on her stool to face Brooke. “So, what happened? What did she do? What did she say? Did you give her another good time-”

“No-I mean yes , but-no, it was…nice.” Brooke busies herself with getting her mascara off so that she doesn’t have to look up at her. “I, um.” she pauses, suddenly aware of exactly what she’s about to say.

She asked Vanessa out.

She asked Vanessa, a girl who she’d picked up at a strip club , who she’d known for the length of approximately four songs and two lap dances , out for dinner at her favourite Thai place.

How in the world was she supposed to tell her friends something so incredibly stupid?

Before she can open her mouth to even form the words, though, Detox pipes up from her station at the corner, rocketing up off her chair to slam the counter in front of her.

“Oh my God , you slut! ” Detox practically screams, “You asked her out. You actually asked her out. Oh my God. This is the best day of my life. Legend. ”

Brooke wants to retort with something, explain herself however she can, but it’s a lost effort, everyone else erupting into screams and fits of clapping and bouncing up and down, Plastique even falling out of her chair.

“It’s not a big-”

“Oh, you bet it’s a big deal, bitch.” Kameron scoots her chair closer to Brooke’s station. “So, how did you do it? Did you whisper the words all sultry into her ear as you gave her a lap dance?”

“Shut up,” Brooke groans as the other girls all crack up, “I did not. Did something far more embarrassing, actually.”

Kameron gives her a look. “You didn’t ask her while she came, did you?”

“What? No!” Brooke swats Kameron’s side. “I wouldn’t let her pay and then asked her afterwards when she said she absolutely had to repay me.”

Detox looks at her in the mirror incredulously. “She probably would have gone down on you right then and there if you asked!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna ask that. I wanna, y’know, start small first.” Brooke doesn’t know why the words are heating her cheeks up, why she’s so hung up over a girl that she’s been in the presence of for ten minutes in total, max. But she is.

“You like her!” Yvie lets out an aww as she says it, one that Plastique mimics right afterwards.

Brooke sputters. “I don’t even know her.”

“Yeah, but you want to.” Asia’s look is knowing, too knowing, and it makes Brooke let out a huff.

“So what?” Brooke doesn’t know why she’s so defensive over it, really. The girls on the cast hooked up with patrons all the time, being careful to keep it under the radar.

But Brooke doesn’t want to only hook up with Vanessa, have her be just a casual option on a rotating list of conquests like many of the other girls have. No, Vanessa’s different. Brooke doesn’t know why, but she is.

_____

Brooke does her makeup differently for their date than the way she does it for work.

Less overdrawn lips, for one, though the same colour. Less dark and sultry eyes, but more colourful. More highlight and less contour. Her face is brighter, though as inviting. Just in a different way.

Brooke spends the entire walk to the restaurant ruminating, because that’s what her brain does best. This time, it’s about the way that she had given Vanessa her number so that she could text her about where and when to meet. It keeps replaying, the way she had run back to where Vanessa was sitting in the crowd to drop a slip of paper into her hand after she had already kissed her cheek goodbye, not maintaining any sense of dignity whatsoever, nope.

So much for being smooth. The memory repeats itself over and over in her head like a broken record, making her cringe. Sometimes, it felt like Brooke’s suaveness disappeared as soon as she stopped performing, leaving behind an impulsivity in her actions that was funny to watch at best, and fully embarrassing at worst.

She beats Vanessa to Sabai Sabai, the restaurant’s lit up sign casting a soft glow on the sidewalk in front of her. The booth that she’s lead to is in a corner of the restaurant, tucked up against two brick walls underneath the soft glow of the lamps hanging from the ceiling.

Vanessa gets there not long after, and Brooke’s breath catches in her throat because she’s equally striking outside of the red light that normally coats the club.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Brooke goes to hug Vanessa, doesn’t know if she should kiss her cheek or not, because really, where do you go from getting someone off in a private room in a strip club?

Twice?

Brooke can see the way that Vanessa’s eyes roam over her after they sit down, taking her in. It makes her feel less out of her element, more in control, since it’s something that she’s used to experiencing.

What she’s not used to, though, is having to make small talk with her clients ( past clients) while sitting across from them at a table in a busy restaurant.

“So,” Brooke starts, as Vanessa scans her menu, “Ever tried Thai food before?”

“Not really.” Vanessa shrugs. “I mean, I’ve had Thai Express and shit, but that probably doesn’t count as the real thing, right?”

Brooke giggles, shaking her head.

“Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that!” Vanessa objects indignantly, and it occurs to Brooke suddenly that a few other patrons close by have turned their heads to look at the source of noise.

Vanessa out of the club isn’t just lively–she’s loud , too, in a way that’s absolutely unapologetic, and somehow, Brooke loves it.

“Some of us ain’t got wads of tips to eat out with all the time.” Vanessa grumbles, taking a sip of her water, but if she thinks Brooke is going to let her get away that easily, then she’s sadly mistaken.

“But you have over a hundred dollars to spend getting eaten ou–”

Vanessa freezes, and the rest of the joke dies on Brooke’s lips, the realization of just what she was saying hitting her a little too late.

Great. Here they were, trying to get to know the other person outside the context of the club, and Brooke had dragged them right back into it.

God, she’s so stupid.

“So, um… What’s good here?” Vanessa coughs, studying the menu just a little too intently.

“I like the pad see ew.” Brooke suggests, reaching over to tap the picture of the dish on Vanessa’s menu, “Get it mild if you don’t like spice, though.”

“ Bitch, ” Vanessa rolls her eyes, “My dumb ass can barely handle no spice, you ain’t gotta tell me twice.”

“Alright.” Brooke laughs, and Vanessa laughs too, and it’s nice, their dynamic finally feeling almost easy to push forward.

Almost like it’s a perfectly natural thing, to be talking and laughing with the woman in front of her.

Before they can continue the conversation, though, a waitress appears to take their order, and the vibe breaks, silence settling in once again when she leaves.

And they’d been doing so well. Fuck.

“So, what do you do?” Brooke starts, regretting the question as she’s saying it. Surely, she should be able to think of something else, something a little less dorky, but it’s all she can think of at the moment. Besides, where work was concerned, Brooke had already shown Vanessa hers–Vanessa might as well show her hers, too.

“I’m an event planner!” Vanessa lights up a little, and suddenly, Brooke’s question doesn’t seem so lame, after all. Vanessa talks almost non-stop after that, answering all of Brooke’s questions about weddings and bar mitzvahs and mitigating the risk of having romantic candles placed on the staircase of a wedding shoot when the bridesmaids are likely already drunk until their food finally arrives, thick, steaming piles of noodles making their mouths water.

“Oh my God. ” Vanessa is the first to take a bite, barely reacting to how hot the food is as she shovels a forkful into her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Brooke giggles, her chest swelling with hope that Vanessa’s reaction is a good sign.

“What did you say this was again? Pack see ookie or something?”

“Pad see ew!” Brooke is unable to keep herself from practically screaming from laughter in reaction, spitting out her own noodles.

“Well it’s not ew, it’s amazing!” Vanessa defends herself, only to giggle along too when Brooke laughs even harder. “Lord, I’mma have to start eating out more often.”

Brooke resists the obvious joke she could make, especially now that the ice is safely broken, and shovels in another mouthful of noodles herself, noting with a special bloom of pride that they taste even better than usual.

The rest of the date passes without incident. In fact, it’s probably one of the better ones Brooke’s been on; now that the initial awkwardness is finally over with, their conversation flows freely, and they find they have more in common than Brooke could ever have dreamed of. And even the stuff that sounds like it’s from another world, that Brooke would normally dismiss or disagree with, is suddenly incredibly interesting to her–Vanessa makes it interesting, makes every Pokemon game and every argument about the benefits of liquid versus powder foundation seem like something Brooke actually wants to learn.

And it’s not just Brooke that feels that way. When she finally gets a word in edgewise, finally tells Vanessa about the time she spent living in South Africa or the best cut of chicken at Swiss Chalet, Vanessa’s face is animated the whole time, and Brooke can tell she’s fully listening, thinking about what she’ll say to follow up and learning about Brooke’s perspective on the world. They order dessert just to get a chance to keep talking, and by the time they get the bill and Brooke chances a look at her phone, it’s almost ten o’clock.

“Oh, I should probably get going.” Vanessa chews her lip as she stares at her phone in turn. “I gotta get home, I got a meeting at a venue in the Distillery District tomorrow, don’t wanna be up too late or the commute’s gonna be Hell.”

This is Brooke’s chance - she can either ask for a second date and leave it at that, or she could spring for something more. For a moment, she almost leans towards the conservative option, afraid that going for sex on the first date might put Vanessa off.

Then she remembers how they met, and suddenly, it doesn’t seem like such an outlandish proposition.

“Well, I actually live pretty close to that area…you, um, you wanna crash and just go straight to your meeting in the morning?”

“What’s your address?” Vanessa’s reply is quick, her phone already open to the Uber app to punch in Brooke’s answer.

–

The sex is different this time - it’s slower, more exploratory, more affectionate. Brooke and Vanessa take time to explore each other’s bodies, stroking and kissing every inch of skin, listening for the gasps and whimpers that signal that they’re doing something right.

It’s interesting. For all of Brooke’s bravado, Vanessa only has to run her short nails along the curve of her ribs, kiss along the line of her neck, before Brooke is putty in her hands. Getting Brooke on the bed, bracketing her hips with her thighs is a rush that Vanessa didn’t know she needed. Being the one to make Brooke squirm, hands reaching up to pinch her own nipples because she’s already so needy, wanting more. It’s a role reversal, one that Vanessa wants to take her time with, fully explore the woman underneath her.

“Please.” The word leaves Brooke’s lips in a gasp when Vanessa grabs just a little bit harder at her hip, kisses her neck with a slight graze of her teeth.

“Nuh-uh.” Vanessa catches Brooke’s hand as it’s about to go to her own panties to give herself some relief. “You gotta be good for me.”

Brooke huffs, tries to free her hand, but Vanessa interlocks their fingers, pressing their hands up on the bed beside Brooke’s head.

“Much better.” Vanessa practically purrs the words in Brooke’s ear before biting lightly at her earlobe, making her gasp.

It’s so different from the club to Vanessa, being the one that gets to be in control. The one who can touch Brooke and control the pace and call the shots, all to make the woman underneath her fall apart. It’s not what Vanessa had expected from the night before it started, but now? She doesn’t want it to ever end.

Brooke is bold, though, more so than Vanessa expects her to be, grinding herself down on Vanessa’s thigh to get some relief. The little gasp of pleasure that leaves her mouth makes Vanessa pull her leg back, sit back on her heels, a slight satisfaction running through her veins when Brooke whines.

“Hey!” Brooke pouts, crossing her arms in a way that’s almost endearing. “Come on, don’t tease me like that.”

“Behave, then I won’t have to.” Vanessa shrugs. There’s silence for a moment, Brooke frowning slightly as she weighs her options, until Vanessa decides she’s had enough.

“All I wanna hear is yes, ma’am, then I can go back to makin’ you feel good.” she leans forward to whisper in Brooke’s ear, preventatively reaching her hands up to Brooke’s wrists to pin them down. “You understand?”

Brooke whimpers, and Vanessa pulls away again, forcing her face into a stern expression despite the excitement she can feel spreading in her body. It’s exhilarating, finally being able to call the shots. To see this entirely different side of Brooke, to get to play with it and explore it, explore her.

It’s almost enough to make her cave, but then again, what would be the fun in that?

“I understand.” Brooke finally gives in, the surrender coming out all in one hot, quick breath.

“Good girl.” Vanessa smirks. Realizing she could probably take it even further, traces her hands from Brooke’s wrists up her arms, towards her collarbones as she teases, “Now ask me nicely, baby, be polite.”

There’s a fifty-fifty chance that Brooke won’t buy it, that Vanessa’s headed for another power-struggle. Brooke is a smart woman, though, so she simply huffs before whining something out under her breath, something that sounds a lot like please.  

Unfortunately, that’s just not quite good enough for Vanessa, not when she’s in this kind of mood.

“What was that?” Vanessa brings her fingers down from Brooke’s collarbone along her chest, tracing just shy of her cleavage but not daring to venture any further. “Come on, nice and loud, baby girl.”

She brings her hands down to pinch Brooke’s nipple just as she cries out her plea a little louder, a little more desperate.

“Please fuck me .”

“Better.” Vanessa lets her touch become tender, loosening her tight grip on Brooke’s tits to gently trace circles around her nipple, smiling against Brooke’s jaw as the blonde shivers underneath her.

“So pretty when you’re all undone like this, you know that?” Vanessa kisses her way down to Brooke’s neck, sucks lightly on the skin there. “Can I bite you here, or you can’t get marked?”

“Yeah, no, don’t bite me.” Brooke pants, beginning to squirm when Vanessa answers by humming her understanding against her skin. “I can’t get marked up in my industry. Ruins the illusion.”  She lets out a harsh laugh, but Vanessa only nods. She doesn’t want to do anything to make trouble for Brooke at her job.

“I’ll be careful, then.”

Vanessa threads her fingers through Brooke’s hair instead and grabs a fistful. She tugs slightly, relishing in the way it makes Brooke gasp.

“Looks like I ain’t even need to bite to get you excited.” Vanessa laughs, kissing the nape of Brooke’s neck lightly and scraping it with her teeth, just enough for Brooke to feel the near-sting of a bite and not enough to mark her.

It earns her another gasp, and she files the move away for later, a flash of satisfaction running through her as she tugs on Brooke’s locks a little more, her other hand running down the blonde’s body and leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“So pretty, baby.” Vanessa rasps in Brooke’s ear, and fuck, if the sight of Brooke coming undone underneath her isn’t enough to take Vanessa to the edge, then the noise Brooke makes at the praise certainly is. Vanessa can’t wait any more. So instead, she finally guides her hand home between Brooke’s legs, and starts to work some kind of magic.

“Oh, fuck .” Brooke gasps, so out of breath and desperate that Vanessa can’t help but shiver despite herself as she rubs Brooke through her underwear, feeling the fabric become slicker with every movement as Brooke’s hips twitch back into Vanessa’s hand.

“ More, more, Ness, please. ” Brooke’s voice is barely her own, and it’s cute, somehow, watching her become this much of a mess this early on into things. It’s incredibly tempting; Vanessa almost wants to keep teasing, wants to see just how far she can push Brooke before the woman really, truly loses control, but she stops herself, knowing that Brooke is already close enough to her limit.

Besides, she may be done teasing, but in terms of making Brooke feel good, well. She’s just getting started.

“Let’s take these off, sweetheart.” the pet name falls off Vanessa’s lips easily, despite how strange it feels to be using it for Brooke instead of hearing it directed towards herself. One look at Brooke, though, and Vanessa can tell that the other woman doesn’t mind–in fact, she almost looks more comfortable somehow, reassured, as if the affection the name holds is making things even better. And to a certain extent, it is, even for Vanessa. She’s not just fucking Brooke anymore; she’s making love to her sweetheart.

She wonders, for a brief moment, if Brooke had felt the same way in the club, or if sweetheart was something she called all of her clients. But the thought leaves her mind almost as instantly as it entered it; right now, it doesn’t really matter, because Brooke is squirming and bucking and gripping the sheets, desperately trying to be good and not get ahead of herself as she waits for Vanessa to make good on the promise she just delivered.

“So patient for me.” Vanessa praises, her heart melting a little as she finally hooks her fingers over the waistband of Brooke’s underwear and peels it off of her hips. “Good girl.”

Brooke says nothing, only lets out a shaky exhale, and that’s when Vanessa gets what just might be the best idea she’s had all night.

“Sit on my face.”

Brooke looks up at her, and for a moment, Vanessa thinks she might say no, thinks she might say that she’s afraid of hurting Vanessa. Truth is, Vanessa doesn’t know if she will–she’s never actually tried it before. What she does know, though, is that she wants to try it with Brooke, right now.

“You won’t hurt me, I promise–” she starts, but then Brooke shakes her head.

“I’m not worried about that,” she promises, propping herself up on her elbows and then heaving herself up all the way, “I was just thinking that I was gonna have a hard time staying up on my legs.”

They both laugh, and before the air can settle into any more worry, Vanessa slings her arms over and behind Brooke’s neck, and then she’s laying down, Brooke on top of her trailing kisses as she moves up Vanessa’s body, bit of exposed skin by bit of exposed skin until she’s shimmied her way up above Vanessa’s face. She crouches down, uses her height to plant her hands firmly on the headboard for extra support, and then Vanessa loses her nerve.

“Um, B?” she starts, only to get cut off by a bemused laugh from the blonde above her.

“You’ve never done this before, have you, sweetheart?”

Vanessa reddens and says nothing, suddenly painfully aware of how fast the tables have turned. She doesn’t have much time to feel embarrassed though, because Brooke has already settled into her newfound control and is already taking care of Vanessa, shifting her weight so that she can free a hand to stroke through Vanessa’s hair.

“It’s alright,” she soothes, “Just let mommy teach you, okay? I’ll tell you what to do.”

Vanessa nods, grateful that Brooke didn’t choose to make fun of her for getting insecure. No, Brooke has proven time and time again that she’s not like that, and so Vanessa feels safe as she follows Brooke’s directions to grab her by her hips and lower her down, pull her chin up and breathe through her nose while she reaches her tongue up to just eat Brooke out like she normally would, just like that, keep going, keep going, faster, faster–

Brooke’s legs start to tremble, and Vanessa realizes that for the past few moments, she hasn’t said anything at all–at least, not any coherent words. The only sounds leaving Brooke’s lips are soft gasps that spur Vanessa on more, making her grip Brooke’s upper thighs tighter to pull her closer.

“Just like that, you’re doing so good, baby-”

Brooke’s praises are cut off in a moan that Vanessa’s sure the neighbours can hear, but it doesn’t matter. The way Brooke is moving her hips against her face makes Vanessa never want to stop, not when she can get Brooke so undone without even making her come yet.

But she’s close. Vanessa can tell by the way one of Brooke’s hands has left the headboard to nestle in Vanessa’s hair, pushing her head closer, begging for it without using words. Brooke doesn’t seem like she can, from the incoherent sounds leaving her mouth.

The fact that Vanessa’s the one to make Brooke like this? Getting her so worked up, after being the one at Brooke’s mercy twice before? It’s intoxicating, a feeling of power that Vanessa’s never really felt before.

But she loves it.

Vanessa can feel her fingers making indents in Brooke’s upper thighs as she squeezes them, matching Brooke’s movements. She looks up from her position, sees the way Brooke’s head is tilted back, the way her lips are slightly parted in a gasp.  She sucks on Brooke’s clit, lets out a little moan against her as she does.

“I- fuck , Ness, I-”

Brooke’s words are cut off in a soundless scream and Vanessa doesn’t stop, meeting the jerky movements of her hips until Brooke is pushing off of her, rolling onto the bed beside her.

Her chest is rising and falling erratically and she looks fucked out and Vanessa’s never seen a more beautiful sight in her life.

“Take your time, catch your breath.” Vanessa can’t help the smirk on her face as Brooke turns to lay on her side and face her, rolling her eyes with a smile on her face.

“That was amazing, baby. You did so well for me, did you know that?” Brooke purrs the words as she trails shaky fingers up Vanessa’s arm and shoulder and along her collarbone, and Vanessa feels her cheeks heating up at the praise.

“Such a good girl.” Brooke seems to have caught her breath, sitting back up before climbing back on top of Vanessa. Except the power’s shifted, and Vanessa gulps, squeezing her thighs together.

Because the sight of Brooke straddling her, hair tickling her face before she tosses it out of the way, over her shoulder?

Vanessa’s weak for it.

“No, baby girl, you’re not hiding from me.” Brooke tsks as she spreads Vanessa’s legs apart, shaking her head. Vanessa, for her part, finds herself unable to say anything at all; she’s only able to let out a little squeak as Brooke slots herself between her legs and begins to grind against nothing but the air between them. With every thrust, every swing of her hips, Brooke lowers herself a little closer to Vanessa, almost looking like she might close the distance. But then Brooke giggles, pulls back up, or worse, stops moving at all, and Vanessa’s left ineffectively humping the air, whining with desperation.

It’s absolutely maddening, and Vanessa could do it forever.

Finally, Brooke closes the distance between them, rubbing and grinding herself up against Vanessa, grinning as Vanessa’s slickness meets her own.

“Get up, I wanna try something.” Brooke already has her hands supporting Vanessa’s back, guiding her up as she says it.

“You ever tribbed before?” Brooke continues, giggling affectionately when Vanessa shakes her head, blushing. “Night of firsts for you, huh?” she winks, and Vanessa can’t help but giggle a little too, though she’s not sure whether it’s more out of nerves or excitement.

“Okay, put your legs like this, good girl… Now scootch towards me, and I’ll go here…” Brooke guides them together until they’re fit like puzzle pieces, one of Brooke’s legs over Vanessa’s shoulders and one of Vanessa’s boxing Brooke in close to her in turn.

“Now c’mere.” It’s the last thing Brooke says before she pulls Vanessa forward to close any distance left between them, and then they’re kissing, they’re kissing and grinding and feeling each other, the wet sounds of sex filling the room.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Vanessa barely recognizes the voice coming out of her mouth as her own, can barely see through the clouds covering her vision as she moves faster up against Brooke, the other woman responding only with huffs and whimpers as she meets each of Vanessa’s thrusts with equal force.

“You gonna come for me, angel? You gonna come for mommy?” Brooke finally grunts out, and yes, Vanessa’s going to come, she’s going to come, she needs to come so badly she can hardly hold it in–

“Ask me for it, baby. Show me how bad you want it.”

As if to cement her point, Brooke changes her pace, going both slower and yet somehow harder than before, and Vanessa is gone, unable to let her pride hold her back any longer.

“Please mommy, please, please let me come, please may I come, oh my God, I need to come, I need to come, I need to–”

“Come, baby, come for mommy.”

They come together, their moans overlapping and intertwining until Vanessa can’t tell who’s feeling what, whose sounds she’s even hearing, and then, gradually, everything is calm. They continue to rut against each other until they’ve both come down from their orgasms, only to separate and finally collapse back onto the bed, completely spent.

“You got two, no fair.” Vanessa pouts as she wiggles closer, nestling into Brooke’s arms. Brooke cocks an eyebrow and reaches down to begin lazily teasing at Vanessa’s clit, but the shorter girl only yelps, twisting away.

“So sensitive.” Brooke teases, “You sure you want another, babe?”

Vanessa sticks out her tongue, but snuggles close again despite herself. “All I’m saying is, you owe me one.”

“I know.” Brooke giggles, kissing Vanessa’s forehead and squeezing her tightly. “But let’s save that for our second date.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #smut #fluff #living in sin #writworm42 #holtzmanns #tw mommy kink

[notaparty-trick]

All Those Senseless Scars - Chapter 2

By @notaparty-trick​ for @asyouleft​

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange​

Rating: T

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, May Parker & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Pepper Potts, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds

Summary: There is a rule to the way Peter lives now. He didn’t know it at first, but he learnt it.

It’s simple.

To earn what he needs to survive, he has to make sacrifices. 

--- 

Peter Parker's life is derailed when he's kidnapped and kept in a white-tiled room with nothing: no windows, no cameras, no food, no water, no phone, nobody else. Only his own thoughts keep him from losing his mind. If he asks for anything, he must take punishment. Tony Stark will stop at nothing to bring him home.

Archive Of Our Own link here

  The second Tony hits the floor, he wakes up.

Before even the throbbing of the back of his head, he notices the kid’s arms around him and recalls the last few minutes of his consciousness, the images of a blowtorch burning blue and of waxy crimson burns spidering across Peter’s face still horrifyingly fresh in his memory.

“Get a medical team to the front door right away,” he hears Pepper saying. Pushing himself hurriedly into a sitting position, Tony sees her crouched in front of them both, her widened eyes fixed on the kid.

The kid, whose every inch of skin is littered with bruises, lacerations, swelling, raised lines that look like whip marks. Who is gaunt and frail and half-naked and blue from cold.

“What should you expect, you asked? Cho, I don’t know what to say. He’s… everything. Just, every kind of injury you could think of.”

Tony has spent twenty sleepless nights looking for Peter Parker.

He’d first begun to suspect that something was amiss when he shut up his workshop for the night and realised he’d never received the quiet ping he’d programmed Karen to send which indicated that the kid had returned safely home from patrol. The protocol had been designed so Tony would get a ping from the Spider-Man suit the moment it entered the Parker abode, and, on the flip side, would send through an alert if he stayed out past his curfew, so the radio silence was what began to raise red flags.

Tony had shoved his paranoia aside for the moment and simply called the kid.

Nothing.

After three missed calls, he patched it straight through, the guilt of prying fading in comparison to a need to assure the kid’s safety, but FRIDAY had pulled him up short. “Boss, it is impossible for me to trace his phone or suit. They do not exist.”

“Sure, they exist. Be realistic, FRI. What do you mean?”

“The most likely explanation for this is that they have both been destroyed to the point where they no longer emit a tracking signal.”

Pushing out a deliberately measured breath, Tony ran his hands down his face in a habitual movement. “What are the chances he’s... destroyed all his tech and run off to join the Amish?”

“That is highly unlikely, Boss. Mister Parker spends an average of three hours on his phone every day.”

“Well - yeah. Shit.” Fighting back a growing wave of unease, Tony tried and failed to pull together some sort of plan of action which culminated in a tentative phone call to May Parker.

“If Peter’s with you right now and he hasn’t answered my texts,” she began without preamble, “You’re both in big trouble.”

Tony’s moment of silence drove her to an instant and terrifying conclusion.

“Tony, tell me he’s with you.”

“He’s off the grid. FRIDAY’s saying his suit and phone have been destroyed.”

“And what does that mean?”

“It means… I suppose we’re - we’re looking at a missing kid now.”

Tony remembers with harsh clarity the way May’s breath had caught.

“Fuck, Tony. He’s - that’s my baby.”

“I know, May, I know. Best not to get - we don’t know anything for sure. There’s a best-case scenario here.” Neither of them are convinced. They’re both catastrophizers when it comes to Peter, and for good reason: the kid gets whammied by the ugliest parts of life on the daily.

“And the worst case?” May ventured.

Words fled Tony’s mouth.

“There’s a place at the facility upstate if that’s where you wanna be. I’ll kickstart a search there.”

The plastered-on bravery in May’s tone fractured a little as she affirmed, “I’ll be right there.”

Tony called the NYPD. He gathered Rhodey and Happy and Pepper and a team of specialist SI security employees. He scoured footage and followed leads himself, gave every piece of information he had to the cops, sent out teams of drones to survey as much of New York as he could until, five days later, Pepper laid her hands on his shoulders and told him, “If you don’t rest now you’re going to be useless.”

“He’s still out there, Pep.”

She simply smiled sadly at him and repeated, “If you don’t rest now you’re going to be useless.”

“I can’t just rest.”

“Yes, you can. Come on.” She let him take her arm and guided him out of his chair as if he were fragile, ancient. “You’re going to take a hot bath. I’m going to warm up your favourite pyjamas. You’re going to take some sleeping pills, and I’ll be with you all night.”

“The kid needs me--”

“He does. He needs you to be strong, and to do that you have to sleep.”

“Make sure I’m up at five.”

“Six.”

“Five-thirty.”

As awful as it felt harbouring a head full of horrific images of what could be happening to the kid while he let his muscles unknot themselves in a tub of hot water, he awoke the next morning with renewed determination for his task.

Losing Peter was simply not an option.

“Whoever’s got him, they must know a lot,” May remarked over coffee as she watched Tony at work that morning. “To disconnect his suit, too.”

She left for a shift at the hospital a few hours later - as much as she wanted to be around during the search for Peter, her job didn’t allow her to take leave for her missing nephew, and she was determined to remain self-sufficient - but her statement stayed with Tony.

They must know a lot.

When Tony stopped searching for a lone villain and started picturing a group - an organisation of some sort - the pieces began to fit.

“Show me feed 4, the 2nd of February, at... 2 pm. One of the first drone searches I sent out, right?”

“That is correct,” FRIDAY chimed. “The feed begins just over a mile from this facility.”

And there it is. The small, ramshackle building by the freeway. He’d dismissed it at first as a broken-down shelter, but it’s too incongruous not to take a closer look now.

“Send in a scout. I want to see inside.”

Not a minute later, the miniature drone whirred through a chink in its wall and revealed a room that appeared completely unremarkable but for the circular trapdoor set into the centre of the floor. 

After ten minutes of studying that trapdoor, realisation - a thunderbolt from heaven, the eureka moment inventors like him grasp at all their lives - strikes him. He notices the design: a circle broken by a diagonal hinge on the bottom right.

“Bring up the Oscorp logo,” he demanded urgently.

An image flew to join the paused feed of the trapdoor. A circle broken at the bottom right.

Oscorp.

Lunging for his phone, he patched a call through to Norman Osborn - how he came to store the fucker’s number, God only knows, but he was thankful for it then - and hoped his hunch was correct.

“You took the kid.”

“It took you long enough to figure it out,” Osborn had returned with a short bark of laughter.

As he takes in the state of Peter all over again in the doorway of the Compound, he wishes he’d killed Osborn personally. Painfully. Made him feel every inch of pain the kid must have gone through.

The kid. The kid he’d taken out for ice cream on his sixteenth birthday last summer. The kid whose screams are still freshly ringing through Tony’s mind.

He hovers his hands over the motionless body beside him, searching for somewhere to make contact with that won’t hurt the kid. 

“Fucking hell, he just - we’re - he walked all the way back.”

Pepper ends her call and immediately looks to him, gaping, her composure discarded. “What the hell happened?”

“I found the place,” he blurts. “Tried to get him out, but I must’ve knocked my head. He… took us back.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

“You should get May on the line,” Tony says, trying to clear a path through his jostled brain. It throbs, but his heart aches more acutely.

Pepper just nods, rushing to find the number.

Swallowing away the breaks in his voice, he tugs off his jacket, shakes away the coating of dust from the explosion, and lays it across the kid’s back. He seems even smaller under it, like he’s shrinking by the minute to a shell of what Tony remembers him to be. Unwilling to gather him up and risk aggravating any of his injuries, Tony takes hold of one of his hands: there’s a litany of half-healed scrapes marring the knuckles, but all the fingers look to be in their proper place, which he can’t say the same of about the other. God. “Kiddo, are you awake? Can you try and open your eyes? I just - we’ve just gotta know you’re all good.”

“May, he’s here,” Pepper says. “We have - no, I’m sorry. He’s not awake. Just - come.”

Tony brings the limp knuckles to his cheek, then his chest. “Look, it’s okay to wake up now. Here’s my janky heartbeat. You always recognize it, remember?” He laughs hysterically, tearfully. Tony Stark is on the verge of tears. “We’ve got a team coming - they’re gonna get you on the good stuff, yeah? Stuff kids your age pay hundreds for. Lucky punk.”

Inexplicably, the kid’s eyelids choose that moment to begin dragging themselves open.

“Oh. Kid? Pete?”

Peter’s face screws up the moment he wakes; he groans, a dreadfully tormented noise.

In his peripheral vision, Tony spots the elevator doors opening to allow out an assemblage of medics.

“You’re okay, kid - it’s me, it’s your Mister Stark, yeah? We’re gonna get you all fixed up.”

“M’s… s’k,” Peter garbles.

“Uh-huh,” Tony assents, although he hasn’t a clue what the kid is trying to tell him.

His gaze is brimming with exhaustion, anguish, pain, a host of harrowing emotions that Tony doesn’t ever want to see there again, but through it all shines trust.

As the medics set down their equipment, he squeezes Peter’s hand and receives a slight twitching of the kid's fingers in response. Encouraged, he prepares to make full use of his skills in comforting monologues. “You’re gonna get lifted onto a gurney in just a second so we can get you tucked up in a bed and fixed up. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

Peter whines, long and low and broken. After Tony had watched him rein in his response to pain in the white tiled corridor - the fierce, guarded demeanour he’d taken upon him - he reckons the kid deserves to cry out as much as he wants. He must hurt like hell.

Tony can feel it.

He keeps his hand locked around Peter’s as the medical team lifts him onto the gurney on his stomach, the kid locking his gaze on him as if his life depends on it. As he’s carried back towards the elevator, Tony jogs beside him. “And we’re off on a magical adventure to the MedBay,” he jests feebly. One side of Peter’s mouth actually lifts a little. “Get ready to sleep for a decade. I know you’ll love that. No more getting up at the crack of dawn to take the subway, doctor’s orders.”

The elevator takes them briskly upwards, but to Tony it still isn’t fast enough. Through his tirade of falsely-chipper reassurance, the medical team makes a cursory assessment of his injuries and responsivity.

“Your aunt is on her way. She’ll be here real soon, so expect a lot of kisses. From me, too. If that’s alright.”

“Sir, we need you to clear the room while we prep for surgery.”

“Oh.” They’re in an operating room, he realises dimly. “Yes.”

Although it tears at his primal protective instincts, Tony knows he has to step away for the kid’s ultimate wellbeing. Hysterics in the OR will do nothing to ease the process along.

Laying a hand over the crown of Peter’s matted hair, he tries to imbue his own strength into the kid through his touch, though all he’s got at the moment seems to be an overload of frenzied determination.

“Be brave for me, Pete,” he whispers.

There’s an affirmation of his request in Peter’s eyes, he thinks.

He steps away; the doors glide shut before him.

“Well, fucking hell,” he remarks to Pepper who he hears approaching behind him.

“Yes, fucking hell. Do you want to explain why you were passed out and slung over the kid’s shoulder?”

“I found where they’d kept him. Well, I didn’t know for sure, I just… I’m sorry. It was a gut instinct. Couldn’t slow down if there was a chance it was the right lead.”

“Who was it?”

“Oscorp. They brought him to me, and - God - they, he was…” his headache arrives in full force, half-knocking him off his feet with the sudden dizziness that accompanies it. “Maybe we can talk about this after I’ve got some Tylenol in me. Pretty sure I’ve got a concussion.”

“Okay.” Caring Pepper returns. “Let’s get you checked out, too.”

---

Peter opens his eyes to white tiles.

The pain he’d felt so potently the last time he’d been awake has dimmed significantly, leaving him with dull aches; a mattress cushions his smarting back. It’s heavenly, almost unreal.

“They said he’d only be out for an hour or two, right?”

“It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong, May. He’s just exhausted.”

It’s the familiar voices that bring him back to reality, that cement sweet relief in his heart.

Rolling his head to one side, he finds May attached to his hand.

May. May. May who smells of freshly-washed scrubs and orchids and home. 

He flexes his fingers in hers and she startles, pressing her lips together in a trembling smile. “Peter, baby. Peter.”

At the affection in her words, a bright golden thing deep in his chest that has been left neglected in a white tiled corner for twenty-one days flares to life, thawing, easing him.

He attempts to turn his head the other way but finds a wad of gauze across the side of his head that prevents him from seeing all of Tony. He spots the elbows resting on his mattress, the downturned countenance harbouring something deep and raw.

Grief settles heavily in the room. Peter’s had enough of grief.

“Tha’ was,” he tries through his numb mouth, “Tha’ w’s a trip. An’ all I got w’s… was this…” He attempts to indicate himself with a hand but finds the arm that isn’t enclosed in May’s hand trapped by a sling and a number of casts.

Like the force of gravity has suddenly been applied to him and he’s hit the ground with a thud, Peter remembers the snap of those bones breaking, the wordless screams nobody had heeded, the bloodstains that had tarnished undulating white tiling, and feels a painful lump well up in his throat. 

“I d’n’t even ge’ an’thing.” 

A tear races unbidden down his cheek. 

“That w’s a lousy joke. ’m sorry.”

The lamentation trapped within him has been caught behind his sternum for twenty-one days; now that it’s beginning to escape, it’s impossible to stop.

Peter swallows. Another tear falls, sinking into the gauze across his face.

“Hey,” May murmurs soothingly to him, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

Everything.

“Forgot how nice y’ were, May,” he tells her, trying to distract from his crying, trying to smile. The gauze and the numbness of the side of his face gets in the way. “Ev’ryone’s real nice ou’ here. Y’ were - m'ster St’rk, y’ came?”

“I did,” he receives in reply. He’s never seen his mentor look so wrecked.

It’s not every day he returns from a kidnapping, he supposes.

“‘M - ‘m back.” He feels as if he needs to say it aloud to solidify it.

“Yes, you are.” May brushes a fond hand across his hair, tucking away his still-dirty bangs. The touch is more tentative than her usual calming gestures, but she offers him a smile that, although plastered on, holds at least a fragment of genuine positivity. “Everyone’s very happy about that, you know.”

His mind turning to the days at school he never attended, the unanswered texts in his phone, the life he’d left behind, Peter tips his head back restlessly. “Di’ Ned… we were g’na…”

“He handled your World History presentation,” May says with a huff of laughter that is mirrored by Mister Stark. “Don’t you worry about it.”

“Goo’. Prou’ of him.” He is. He misses him and MJ like hell.

May’s countenance affects stern incredulity, although she can never muster up any real discipline while he’s bedbound. Peter has learnt this through a long period of trial and error where, after engaging in some form of stupid behaviour, she’d always wait until he was back on his feet to grill him out. With the state he’s in now, he guesses it will take a while this time. She chuckles wetly at him. “You walked yourself all the way back here, you crazy boy.”

Peter takes another hazy stab at lifting the mood: “Crazy, ‘s m’ - uh, my…”

“Middle name?” supplies Mister Stark, subdued.

“Mm. M’ middle name.”

The crease in his mentor’s brow sets off a warning pang in his chest. 

“M’ster St’rk?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“Is ev’rythin’ all, uh…” his brain and mouth won’t work together to produce the words he wants. “All, all, um.”

Tony seems to sense the root of his concern. “You’re safe. I made sure of it myself. Multiple times. We have those guys handled, I promise.” He rests a hand on Peter’s knee, pats it a few times, but he gets the feeling that he’s holding back from doing something as intimate as wiping tears from where they’ve halted, quivering, in the hollows of his eye sockets. In a quiet corner of his mind, Peter wishes he would. 

“Oh. ‘kay.”

He can’t quite bring himself to believe it.

---

The next time he wakes up, he’s gained a new level of coherence that leads him to take stock of the state he’s in. The dressing on his face feels damp but cool with whatever they’ve used to treat the burns. The burns he doesn’t want to think about. 

There’s a splint and a layer of gauze across his nose to reset it; a cast on his hand, one on his forearm, and a sling holding the whole arm at a 90-degree angle. It alleviates the burning pain he’d barely even processed in his collarbone. He can feel a dressing across the lashes on his back, too, and an ice pack laid across his swollen ribs over the hospital gown he’s now dressed in. He’s free from a cannula, thankfully; there are just two IV lines trailing from the crook of his arm and the back of his hand respectively.

God, I’m a mess.

It’s certainly the most wiped-out he’s ever felt. His eyelids are ten-tonne weights.

The trouble comes when May offers him a plastic cup upon noticing his return to consciousness. “Do you want a couple of ice chips, honey?”

“Would you like some clothes?”

Peter’s heart picks up the pace.

“Uh, I - I don’ know.”

“You don’t know?” May presses, brows knitting, and he’s letting her down. She wants an answer.

“Wha’s, wha’s gonna happ’n?” he asks tremulously, recalling the thump of a whip descending on his back, the echoes of his own screams accompanied by the sickening cracking of bones, a million hands pressing him to the ground, and simply needing to know that he’s safe from it.

He is safe. He knows that. But a more primal part of him is terrified.

“What do you mean, baby? Are you feeling okay?”

From his accustomed place at Peter’s right side, Tony leans forward in his seat and interjects. “Hey, is this something to do with…?”

Peter isn’t sure why he says it. It just comes out. “T’ earn wha’ I need, I gotta take punishmen’.”

There’s an ugly silence. Tony sets a hand over Peter’s ankle; Peter can pick up the tremors in his grip. May chews on her lower lip. 

“Kid,” Tony says quietly.

“‘M sorry, it just… that’s wha’ they said. I know ‘s not… bu’, uh, yeah. Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” Tony frowns good-naturedly, signalling a Mister Stark-patented statement on the way, and sure enough: “I don’t want to hear the word sorry out of your mouth for at least a month.”

It’s familiar, comforting, and helps Peter ground himself in the room, the hospital bed, the safe place. 

He smiles wonkily at Mister Stark. “Y’know tha’s unrealistic.”

“Seriously, kid, are you gonna take the ice chips?” is the amusement-tinged response. Tony nods towards the cup now set down on the overbed table, his countenance radiating a schooled softness. “No strings attached, that’s a guarantee.”

“Sure,” Peter blusters, shrugging then regretting it as his collarbone is struck with a stabbing pain. “‘kay.”

May pushes a few chips into his mouth, softly pushing away his good hand, which he notices is weighed down by fatigue and more spindly than the last time he’d been in the MedBay. Almost a month of starvation does that to you, he guesses.  The ice chips are heavenly against his arid throat.

“Is that how you got all banged up?” Tony inquires softly, re-igniting the previous thread of conversation, and although it unearths the reel of harrowing memories that blemish his recent past, something in Peter yearns to tell Mister Stark, to show him that he’d tried his best, even if it doesn’t appear that way.

He’d gotten captured, kidnapped, and absolutely wrecked, and he’d just waited around until Mister Stark had come to save him. Whether Oscorp was involved or not, it fosters a rankling sense of shame in his gut.

If you’re nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it.

“Tony,” May hisses.

Peter nods anyway, the rustling dressing over his face irritating him. “Yeah.” He searches for Tony’s gaze, injects sincerity into his garbled speech. “I didn’ wanna ask f’r anything an’ I made it five days wi’out water. Bu’... I had to.”

“Course you did,” Mister Stark tells him with a startling level of empathy.

“I tried t’ be smart,” Peter continues, “S’ they wouldn’ hurt me t’ much.”

“Pete, I’m not grading you on how well you handled yourself in there. Relax. You got out, that’s all that matters.”

“You go’ me out,” mutters Peter.

The crow’s feet lining Mister Stark’s eyes deepen. “Same difference,” he affirms.

But it isn’t.

“Di’ you hear me, May?” he finds himself saying, blinking away a haze of rumination from his vision.

“What?”

“I called you in there, y’ know.”

The feel of the vintage telephone he’d wished into being is somehow more concrete than the real memories of pacing the floor and sleeping on the ceiling and not-crying and crawling when he became too weak to stand and screaming to a helpless Mister Stark as fire licked the side of his face.

“You - there was a phone?” May asks quizzically. She’s trying her very best to understand him, Peter knows, to listen to him and fix any problem he voices, to make it all better. It’s him who’s all over the place.

“No. There wasn’ anything. Just tiles. Bu’ I pretended. Thought y’ might hear anyway.”

His remark breaks something in May. With a sharp inhale, she pushes back her chair and stands, looking anywhere but at Peter, at the casts and dressings and stitches that hold him together. “You know what?” she says loudly, “I’m gonna - do you want a milkshake, Peter? I’m getting you a milkshake. Something nice to get you back to solid foods.”

She rakes a hand through her unwashed hair and leaves.

The mattress feels too soft for Peter now, dipping under his weight. He wallows in his own stupidity.

His memories are now too dark to share with May: she isn’t a superhero, just a woman who has lost her husband and who didn’t ask to be pulled into a world where she risks losing her nephew too. She didn’t ask to have another person to worry about, but here Peter is, breaking her heart. He almost wishes she didn’t care so ardently as she does, didn’t long so fruitlessly to protect him from the wear and tear of the superhuman world.

The silence between him and Mister Stark hangs heavily, riddled with tension and the shared recollection of Peter’s screams.

Only when Tony clears his throat and says, “I set you up a new phone,” is he pulled away from his thoughts.

“You di’?”

It’s tossed into his lap. “Go ahead and text your little Gen Z heart away.”

As hard as Peter tries to turn the device on and swipe over to his apps with his one uninjured hand, it just slips from his grip. His face reddens.

“M’ster S’rk?”

“Yuh-huh?” Mister Stark hasn’t yet noticed, having angled himself away from Peter a little and placed his head in his hands. At Peter’s sheepish call, he twists to face him again in a series of jerks. “Oh.” He lunges for the phone, newly sober. “Oh, yeah. How about I read everything out for you?”

In an instant, the notion of Mister Stark seeing all his texts manifests in all its horrifying glory, and Peter finds himself fearing something as trivial as the discovery of his awkward message history with MJ and nerdy conversations with Ned. It’s oddly relieving.

“Don’ spy on my texts,” he protests weakly. The blue light reflecting on Mister Stark’s face serves as a blatant reminder that his mentor might just be betraying him already.

Tony smirks. “I can’t not spy on them if they’re right there.”

Peter lets out a huff that he hopes conveys the entirety of his indignance, although he’s aware the side of his face that’s free of dressings probably doesn’t create a very threatening image.

“There you are,” Tony chuckles in the face of his display, “I was waiting for that little frown.”

“‘M not little.”

“If you say so, pipsqueak.”

Peter rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can. “Jus’ let me talk t’ Ned ‘nd MJ.”

“Video call?” Mister Stark suggests as if he hasn’t yet noticed the way Peter’s face must look.

The thought of his friends seeing the human punching bag he’s become cuts a sense of horror in him too deep for the lightness of the interaction he’s engaged in.

“No, no, no,” he rushes to say before hurriedly covering his panic with a languid shake of his head. “No calls. Text.”

“And you’re gonna dictate them to me like I’m a medieval scribe?”

“I dig tha’.” Peter finds himself letting out a short bark of laughter despite himself. He’s a melting pot of emotion, experiencing everything at once.

“I resent that,” retorts his mentor lightly.

“Suck i’ up, M’ster S’rk. ‘m an invalid, y’ gotta do what I say.”

Tony just swallows. Peter hopes he didn’t say the wrong thing again.

“Di’ Ned say anything?” he prompts eventually.

“A great many things. Forty-two, in fact.”

“Oh, man.” Just the thought of forty-two things makes his head spin. Ned probably went out of his mind. “Don’ think I c’d process tha’ right now. Jus’... tell him I’m alrigh’. ‘M alive an’ he can finish the Imperial S’r Destroyer wi’out me.”

“The Imperial Star Destroyer?” echoes Mister Stark, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Peter remembers the enthusiasm he used to hold for things like this. He tries hollowly but valiantly to recreate that excitement as he replies: “‘S got four thousan’, seven h’ndred an’ eighty four pieces, M’ster St’rk. Isn't tha’ crazy?”

His mentor’s eyes crinkle amiably as he regards Peter, shifting back a little in his seat as if the levity has physically purged some of his stress. “You built all of that?”

“We w’re gonna,” shrugs Peter.

“He’s typing already. It’s… I have to break it to you, Pete, but his fine motor skills seem to have declined significantly in the time you were gone.”

“Wha’ do y’ mean?”

“It’s just a string of random letters.”

“He’s keyb’rd smashin’, M’ster St’rk,” Peter giggles, ignoring the rasp of his throat.

Tony clicks his tongue. “I won’t even ask.”

Making an attempt to lean upwards in his bed and towards the glow of the screen in Mister Stark’s hands which is quickly aborted by the ache of his ribs and back, Peter urges, “Wha’s he sayin’ now?”

“I think I made out a holy shit somewhere in there… I’m gonna kill you, I thought you were dead… No, I am not finishing the Destroyer without you…”

Peter smiles.

“What happened? With an abundance of question marks.” Raising his eyeline with a dip of his brows, Tony studies him for a moment.

“Tell him i’ was S’ider-Man stuff an’ I got in trouble but ‘m alrigh’,” Peter tells him as firmly as he can.

“You’re not gonna tell him?”

“He’ll stress ou’.”

Setting aside the phone in favour of lacing his fingers together atop his lap, Tony sighs, heralding a lecture to come. “Kid, I won’t lie to you,” he says with surprising softness, “Not everything just goes away once you’re back in the world. Some things never do. You - you know that, right? You’re prepared for that?”

At that very moment, Peter is saved by the bustling entrance of May, who sets a creamy drink before him and smiles hopefully. “I got you salted caramel.”

“Th’nk you so much, May.” Inexplicably, it’s the drink, the way his enhanced senses pick up the rich, sugary smell and the slow bleeding of caramel syrup into the milky base, which rekindles passion in Peter, infuses a little color into his world. He lifts his hand until it rests on her arm, too weak to raise it further, and she sets her hand a little awkwardly but with sincerity over his. 

“S’lted caramel’s the bes’.”

“I know, honey.” Returning his smile shakily, she squeezes his hand and tells him, “Now, I want you to enjoy it, okay? It’s - it’s your first...”

Where she trails off, he picks up. “My firs’ drink back in the real w’rld.”

May nods, blinking fiercely. Everything Peter does seems to upset her. So he shuts up and latches on to the straw of the drink.

It’s mind-blowingly good. It’s cool and thick and delicious and makes him feel a whole lot better.

“Can I swear?” he pipes up out of the blue. “Jus’ once?”

Mister Stark indulges him. “Go on.”

“H’ly fuck , I’ve missed s’lted caramel.”

---

Peter tried to escape. He did.

The second time he heard the rhythmic beat of boots nearing his cell, he leapt up onto the wall right beside the door, flattening himself against the tile in the hope that the masked group would be taken by surprise by his sudden attack. With nothing but unbridled terror on his side, he prepared to take out four armed guards who had wrestled him easily to the floor the day before.

The force of the group was unneeded, it transpired. As soon as Peter threw his first weakened punch, the room filled with the torturous whistle, making him drop to the floor in shock.

“Would you like anything?” he was asked mildly after the noise had ceased at last. 

From his sprawled position on the floor, hands still covering his ringing ears, Peter shook his head vehemently. “No. Please, go away.”

White tiles spun with the dizzying motion of a carousel before his vision, the cacophony of retreating boots at odds with the thousands of dismembered feet he sees tramping across the unidentifiable orb of the cell. Peter bit back a cry of pain as the slam of the door assaulted his ears, rocking his head back and forth, back and forth, losing himself in the distracting motion.

His swallows became avalanches, blinking like the shutter of a camera pressed against his eyes.

“Oh, man,” he mumbled unevenly, nausea creeping up his throat. “Pull yourself together, Peter. Come on. Just - chill.”

It wasn’t the first time his senses had overloaded. The bout of sickness after the spider bite; his first overwhelming patrol; a school day he’d attended on a single hour of sleep; all had brought about these almost familiar symptoms. But before, he could crawl between his sheets, relaxing in the familiar scent of his room, and call it a day. He could stumble through his day in sunglasses and headphones, knowing it would pass. He could even lock himself in the dark, soundproofed room in the Compound - the isolation room - and shut out every sensation but his own breath and heartbeat. In his box, there was nothing to distract him from the frightening lack of control that came with the sensory overload but his own sheer willpower.

So he continued to rock back and forth for what could have been hours, simply waiting for the storm to pass by.

---

Peter wakes to a sweat-soaked hospital gown and a lump in his throat.

Sucking in a raw breath, he takes in the room: Tony stirring at his side and May passed out at his other. Nothing out of the ordinary. He burns all over, however, damp and shaky and aching.

“Kid?” Tony mutters, righting himself and rubbing at his eyes.

“Mister St’rk, I gotta go t’ the isolation room,” he blurts.

That gets Mister Stark up quickly. He takes in Peter’s taut face, his good hand clenched in the sheets, the beads of moisture at his hairline, and nods.

The transferral from his bed to a wheelchair is awkward and excruciating, with Tony struggling to bundle his fragile limbs and IV lines safely into the seat while Peter shuts his eyes against the red-hot pokers of Tony’s hands on him and the shifting of the synthetic overhead lights against his skull and the jostling of his arm and back and ribs and face. It’s worth it , he tells himself. Just a few minutes and there will be blissful silence.

“Nightmare?” Tony asks him in a hushed tone as he wheels him down corridors and into the lift.

“Flashback, I th’nk.”

Tony’s hand settles in his slick curls; he wordlessly combs them out, his touch feather-light, and it’s a welcome distraction from the deafening creaking of the cables around them.

Guiding him and his IV stand into the darkened room, he half-shuts the door and breathes, “Anything you need, give FRIDAY a command, remember? She won’t make any noise. I’ll come and get you out when you’re ready.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, his brain rattling with the volume. 

The door is eased shut, leaving only blissful quiet.

Blissful for a short while, anyway.

Peter has never loved the isolation room. As helpful as it is to rebalance his senses, the very name reminds him of why it scares him - isolation. Now, bound to his wheelchair, hearing only his own heartbeat, all he can think of are the days in his cell wracked with pain too great to allow him to move but also gripped by terrible loneliness.

The fear of being alone has dogged him all his life. Re-starting his life without his parents. Watching Ben bleed out on the ground before him. Floundering under the weight of the collapsed warehouse. Never was it more starkly exposed, however, than the twenty-one days he’d spent in his box.

He’d been scared. He could have rotted there forever, his last breath plagued by the loneliness he’d fought so hard to run from.

“FRIDAY,” he gasps, “Get me ou’ of here.”

Tony comes rushing through, concern clear on his face, but Peter wants nothing more than to cling to him and never let go, so he does just that, clutching him until he grunts at the pain radiating from his ribs.

“Kid, I’m here. You’re fine.”

“Didn’ work,” he says into Tony’s shoulder.

“I know.” Mister Stark’s voice brims with sadness. “It’s okay, let’s just - take a breather for a minute. Sit here.”

“Can’ do much else,” huffs Peter.

They rest, Mister Stark breathing into Peter’s hair while he keeps his hand stuck stubbornly to his mentor’s back.

#fanfic #fanfiction #irondad #spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #whump #angst #hurt and comfort #notaparty-trick

[insanely-creative-things]

Big Hero 7: The Series

The Impatient Patient

(Long post)

www.fanfiction.net

A.N: This is the part where Obake’s sanity is more...exposed. It will be explained when I post Obake’s origins. Enjoy this chapter!

*The fog thickly coats the air until a yacht comes into view. The passengers on board happen to be Krei and his assistant Lois Carter as they arrive by very specific coordinates somewhere in the pacific ocean. Krei is looking out at sea with his high tech binoculars.*

Krei: Alright, we are here...now what?

Lois: We wait-

Krei: *Startled* AAHH!

*The sudden voice of his assistant spooks the entrepreneur which causes him to drop his binoculars into the ocean.*

Krei: Don't do that! Didn't know you were back there.

Lois: Talk to yourself much?

Krei: No, I was thinking out loud.

*Just then his phone rings so he answers it.*

Krei: This is Krei.

Mystery Caller: I see you have reached the drop point.

Krei: Couldn't we have done this in the office?

Mystery Caller: No, you will transfer the vault.

Krei: How do I know you'll deliver? This is a staggering large amount of cash.

Mystery Caller: That is why it was the winning bid.

Krei: Done.

*He hangs up the phone after that rather suspicious conversation.*

Lois: And?

*Just then, Krei spots what appears to be a torpedo heading for the yacht at a fast speed.*

Krei: Ahh! Hit the deck!

*Krei immediately drops to the ground preparing for the explosion but nothing happens.*

Lois: You might wanna see this.

*Krei, after realizing it was not an assassination attempt, stands up to find that the torpedo is actually a drone that is sent to deliver the package. A robotic arm appears and in front of Krei is a small blue chip. Krei garbs the chip as the drone swims away.*

Krei: *Laughs* It's good to win.

*But Krei and Lois are unaware that they are currently being watched. *

Jack: Yeah, got our target.

*Then three people suit up in their turbine jet suits while secret handshake stuff, two men and one female.*

Jack: Let's fly!

*Hiro and Cora are on Baymax flying through the foggy night in the city.*

Baymax: My flight function is not at full efficiency in suspended water droplets.

Hiro: It's just fog Baymax, it's not the greatest for night patrol.

*As of while, Fred is jumping around in the city, trying to not cause any damage with the thick-as-pea-soup fog they're surrounded in.*

Fred: *Singing* Night patrolling in the fog! But I can't see my feet! Oh oh oh oh I probably shouldn't be jumping around~

Cora: Fred! Did you see that?

Fred: No! I can't see anything! Not even my feet, I thought I was clear on that, I mean did you two not hear my song? Come on!

*Hiro and Cora are looking out the bay as Baymax scans.*

Hiro: Out over the bay.

Cora: Their too small to be planes... Helicopters maybe?

Baymax: I will scan for heat signatures through the fog.

Fred: *Hopeful* Please be UFOs, Please be UFOs! Please be UFOs!

Baymax: I detect three humans.

Fred: *Disappointed* Aww...

Baymax: Wearing jet turbines.

Fred: *Intrigued* Ooh!

*The three-man jet flying team are heading towards the yacht.*

Jack: Triple power!

Jack, Jacky, and Jacqueline: Jacks rule!

*The team of three continue tailgating the yacht dubbed KreiFisher. At Jack's signal, the two others fly off in opposite directions, catching the attention of Krei, Lois, and the captain.*

Krei: Ahh!

*The three meet up and Jack uses his laser cannon to tip over the yacht, nearly capsizing it. Krei smacks his face straight into a window due to the tough waves. With the yacht spinning around, the three launch their hooks to hold it still.*

Jack: That's the stuff!

*Hiro, Cora, and Baymax arrive and spook the man into flying away. Soon they made a turn to cut the wires from the other two flying daredevils.*

Hiro: Huh! Nice job Baymax!

Cora: Hold on Hiro! I'm think I'm hearing something.

*The two listen into the radio between the other three flying daredevils.*

Jack: Look sharp Jack!

Jacky: Roger that Jack! Jack you got this?

Jacqueline: Coming Jack.

*But as they were listening, Jacqueline flies to the side and knocks the three into the ocean. Cora's suit begins to glow as she swims towards Hiro and pulls him to back Baymax. Meanwhile the three Jacks meet up at the yacht.*

Jacky: Nailed it Jack!

Jacqueline: Back at you Jack.

*Just than, Baymax burst out of the water with Hiro and Cora on his back again, knocking the three Jacks out. Cora pats Hiro's back so he can cough out any ocean water he might have inhaled, but then Hiro and Cora are pulled off by Jack by their feet.*

Jack: Lesson one: Don't mess with the Mad Jacks!

Jacky and Jacqueline: Jacks rule!

Hiro: Wait so you're all named Jack?

Jack: Actually my real name's Greg, but I go by Jack! Team cohesion man!

Hiro: Well uh that makes no sense.

Jack: Yeah well...you make no sen-

*Cora uses the opportunity between their banter to swing up and land a punch to his face, disorienting Jack to loose focus. He goes from high and low where at the low he drops Cora into the water safely, but he also flies high enough to drop Hiro from the air.*

Hiro: Baymax!

*Baymax uses his scanner to find Cora in the water and Hiro falling.*

Cora: *To Baymax* Get Hiro! I'm getting on board the yacht!

*Baymax flies over and catches Hiro before he is submerged in water again.*

Hiro: Thanks *Sneeze!*

Baymax: You have sneezed. A sneeze is a semi-

Hiro: *Climbing back on to Bymax* I'm fine! Come on, lets go join Cora on that yacht.

*Cora climbs on board dripping wet as Baymax lands and Hiro jumps down.*

Baymax: I am scanning the occupants. One of them is Alistair Krei.

Cora: *Surprised and annoyed* Again?! Ugh...

Krei: Welcome!...Aboard.

Hiro: Is this another revenge against you thing?

Krei: No.

Cora: Unethical business deal?

Krei: That is offensive and also no!

Hiro: Then what?

Krei: Look I was out on the bay enjoying my yacht, KreiFisher, and then those flying maniacs swooped in!

*The next laser blast rocks the yacht hard enough to tip Krei overboard, but before he is fully submerged Baymax catches him by his leg and pulls him up and drops him back onto the boat.*

Baymax: *As he puts life preserver on Krei and pulls the string on it to inflate it.* It is advisable to wear a floatation device when boating.

Krei: Noted.

Cora: *Rubs her eyes in annoyance* Krei, you are literally the Lois Lane from Super Man at this point. And that alone is an insult to Lois Lane and Super Man all around.

*Just then, more laser blasts start firing around the yacht and the four try to keep their balance in the rocking boat as more and more blasts appear. The yacht speeds up as the Mad Jack team follows after them.*

Hiro: Baymax? I'm thinking rocket fist.

*Baymax uses his scanner to place his scanner on the Mad Jacks.*

Baymax: Three targets will require precise timing.

*Cora and Hiro nod as they finally found that precise moment to strike.*

Hiro and Cora: Now!

*The rocket fist hits Jack which causes him to bump into Jacky and then into Jacquline, landing all three of them in the water.*

Cora: Yes!

Hiro: Nice shot! That had to hurt.

*The rocket fist returns to Baymax.*

Baymax: I do not detect any major injuries.

Hiro: Bet their mad though.

*Baymax and Cora blink at Hiro, confused on what he just said.*

Hiro: Mad...Jacks? Because they're..

*Baymax continues to blink in confusion as Cora speaks.*

Cora: *Smiles awkwardly at her boyfriend* Hiro...babe, I love you and all. But I have to be honest with you when I say...*Bluntly but still awkward* That was kind of weak even for you.

Hiro: *Slightly annoyed at them both* Never mind...

*After the yacht sails back to the docks, Krei and Lois are talking to Hiro, Cora, and Baymax.*

Hiro: Are you sure there's nothing you wanna tell us?

Lois: There is one thing-

Krei: *Interrupts her before she can say anything* Goodnight!

*Hiro is about to speak but he then sneezes into Baymax's finger, which catches the attention of Cora beside him.*

Baymax: Hiro, I am detecting unusually thick mucus in your nasal membrane.

Krei: Well that's disgusting! No viruses around the CEO that's the rule. Goodnight!

Cora: O...K? Let's just go you guys, it's kind of late anyway.

Baymax: I will monitor your symptoms.

*Hiro and Cora climb up and fly away to head home.*

Lois: Why didn't you tell them? I mean they did save you.

Krei: I do not need those kids lecturing me about how 'that technology is too risky'!

Lois: Is it risky?

Krei: No risk, no reward.

*Fred finally arrives at the dock and surprises Krei and Lois.*

Fred: *Ready for action* What'd I miss?

*The next day at SFIT, Cora and Hiro are at the cafeteria where they are seated in their usual spot. Cora is currently eating her bento containing shrimp as Hiro texts Fred to identify The Mad Jack group. Cora sees Hiro looking a little more tired than usual which raises some concern in her.*

Cora: You doing okay Hiro? You look a little tired...did you sleep well last night?

Hiro: *Waves her off to reassure her* Uh...could've been a little better, but I'm fine, really... *Take notice of a certain book sticking out of his girlfriend's backpack and decides to try and change the subject* So babe, why did you bring that book to school?

*Cora looks at her backpack where sticking out is the herbal book she got from their time at Muirahara Woods.*

Cora: Oh I've been looking it over ever since I got it and thought I could look it over some more in-between classes. I've kinda been studying the writings my Mama put into it. You know, ever since I got this book, I've been wonder why Grandmama never told me anything about this book, or about that treehouse she and Mama used to live in. But on the plus side, I finally found the spot where that missing page is suppose to be, see?

*Cora opens the book to flip to see that there is indeed a page has been ripped out, and considering how old it was it was defiantly not Ludd, the Hybagon of the woods that went crazy.*

Hiro: Huh, that is weird. I wonder what was so important about that one page that someone would just take but leave the rest of the book behind.

Cora: That's just what I've been thinking. I mean, why just take one page instead of the whole book? Whatever was on that page was most likely something someone didn't want anyone to get their hands on, which means that it's really that important. but the question now is, what was written on that page, and what about it makes it so important that it would need to be kept out of the wrong hands?

Hiro: Hmm...sounds like this is quite the mystery.

Cora: Yeah and it's a mystery I'd sure like to solve, among other things...

Hiro: Well maybe we can try to figure this out later. Right now I'm feeling a little hungry, I'm gonna get some fruit, you want anything?

Cora: Sure, and you pick.

*Hiro stands up to walk over to the fruit stand while Cora starts reading and looking over the book. Hiro starts looking at what fruit to get, first picking two apples but decided to put one of them back. He then switches the fruit stand and grabs an orange. However someone notices Hiro putting back the second apple and that someone happened to be Karmi, the other teen genius.*

Karmi: Hiro what did you just do?

Hiro: Uh..I'm getting fruit for Cora and I.

Karmi: You touched the other apple!

Hiro: But I decided I wanted the orange. T-There's no comparison really it's apples and oranges heh.

Karmi: Do you know how many microbes you left on that apple?!

Hiro: No but I bet you do... Karmi.

Karmi: This is cold and flu season! All it takes is one careless-

*But then Hiro starts to twitch before he stops himself from sneezing, however Karmi drops her food. Then she starts to slowly back away. Hiro returns to the table where Cora had watched the whole encounter.*

Hiro: Come on it was one sniff!

Cora: ...Maybe we should go meet up with the gang.

*At the lab, Hiro and Cora are walking through the lab, although Cora is watching Hiro with concerned eyes as Hiro's walking is more like trudging.*

Honey Lemon: Hi Hiro! Hi Cora!*Then notices Hiro's condition*...oh..do you feel okay Hiro?

*Honey Lemon removes her gloves to check Hiro's forehead.*

Honey Lemon: You're a little warm.

Gogo: *Walks by* You look like death. Go home.

Hiro: Why does everyone think I'm sick?

Cora: I don't know...maybe cause you were dunked in the ocean and then sent flying through the air and then fall all in one go last night?

Hiro: You went through it too, in fact you fell to the ocean...twice!

Cora: I took the liberty of installing a water-proof wetsuit in my armor a few weeks ago to protect me from freezing cold water should I ever fall into said-freezing cold water. And as an extra precaution, I dried myself off and drank some hot tea when I got home... And if I recall, I told you to do these things as well after we got back home last night and told Baymax to insure you did along with making sure he warmed you up himself as an extra precaution. did he?

Hiro: *Rubs the back of his neck* Uh well...yeah he did...except the last one where he was suppose to warm me up. His battery was running low before he got the chance. But I did dry myself and drink hot tea like you told me too.

Cora: *Places a hand on her boyfriend's shoulder* Oh Hiro... Bless both yours and Baymax's hearts. *Mutters* If he had a heart that is.

Fred: *While playing on a video game device* Me? I never get sick! Every year I get stung by an irradiated bee, so I'm protected.

Gogo: *Disbelieving* An irradiated bee?

Fred: Yeah, I close my eyes and the doctor says I'll feel a pinch and then-

Gogo: Fred, that's a flu shot.

Fred: No, irradiated bee! That's what my mom says.

*Hiro notices Wasabi pulling out a new laptop from a box.*

Hiro: Ah hey Wasabi, new computer?

Wasabi: Oh it is so much more than that! It is a perfect extende-

*It was at the moment that Hiro sneezes directly onto the laptop, much to Wasabi's terror.*

Wasabi: *Freaking out* AAHH!

Hiro: Sorry let me help Achoo!

*Hiro tries to wipe off the saliva he sneezed out but only lets out another sneeze.*

Wasabi: *Freaking out even more* AAAHHH!

Baymax: I am concerned about the sneezing.

*Wasabi goes running through the door still screaming and freaking out.*

Baymax: Also the screaming.

*Cora pulls out a handkerchief and hands it to Hiro which he happily takes as he sneezes again. But somewhere in the depths of the city, Obake is observing through the multiple cameras when he gets an incoming call. On the other line is the group Mad Jacks*

Jack: Situation report: Um... Lets see, at approximately...2300 hours-

*Obake pulls up a photo of Baymax, Hiro, and Cora in their super hero gear.*

Obake: You were defeated by children?

Jacqueline: Those kids had a robot!

Jacky: Yeah! Tell him about the bot! And not to mention that girl can really pack a punch-!

Obake: Finish the job, understand? Finish...it!

Jack: Roger that good copy Mad Jacks out!

*After the Mad Jacks ended their call, Obake pulls up photos of the two super hero teens.*

Obake: Such a tenacious young couple, but just what will it take I wonder, to tear you both apart?*Splits the photos apart, separating Hiro and Cora from each other as he says this.*

*Morning comes as Cass brings up breakfast for Hiro.*

Cass: Rise and shine! I made your favorite, breakfast tofu-dia. Okay well, not everybody's favorite yet but I need an honest opinion.*

*But Hiro appears to not have slept at all last night as his eyes are red and a pile of tissues on his bedside.*

Cass: Hiro?

Hiro: *Sickly* Morning...ugh...

*Just then, Baymax activates.*

Baymax: My primary patient is sick. I am his personal healthcare companion.

*However, Cass decides it would be better to take Hiro to the doctor's office to check over his illness.*

Doctor: Okay Hiro let's just check that temperature... Oh you do have a moderate-

Baymax: Fever of 101...

Doctor: Right...

Baymax: point two, nine.

*The doctor tries her best not to glare at the marshmallow robot.*

Doctor: Let's take a peek in your ears.

*She brings out the otoscope.*

Doctor: Mhmm, just what I suspected. Fluid in the-

Baymax: *Says the first part at the same time as the doctor* Fluid in the auditory canal. *Says the rest on his own* Indicating a possible viral infection.

Doctor: Eheh, you know, typically a patient seeks a second opinion after the diagnosis... Not during.

*Baymax merely blinks at the nurse's annoyance.*

Cass: Sorry doctor *Hugs Baymax* he cares a lot.

Doctor: Let's see if he agrees that you should stay in bed for a few days.

Hiro: But I-I don't want to...

Baymax: Bed rest is advised for viral infections.

Doctor: *Trying to hold in her annoyance* Patience Sheila it's the future... *takes a deep breath and smiles* Go home, have some soup, sleep sleep and more sleep. I guess you're too old for a lolli-

*Baymax has already brought out a lollipop for Hiro.*

Doctor: Pop...

Baymax: Enjoyment of a lollipop is not age conditional.

*Cass facepalms at the entire ordeal. The three arrive at home where Cass pulls up her phone.*

Hiro: W-what are you doing?

Cass: I'm calling Kaguya, I'll be busy with the Cafe and Baymax may need a little help.

*Hiro groans as Cass talks to the person.*

Cass: *On her phone* Oh, I see. Kaguya is out huh? Maybe you can help? Oh that's great sweetie! And I know that you being here will cheer him right up! Thank you!

*After hanging her phone she turn to Hiro.*

Cass: Well Kaguya's out for some retreat so Cora will come over and take care of you with Baymax!

Hiro:*Perking up at this but at the same time feels concern*...Really?

*After Hiro is put to bed, Cora comes upstairs with a bowl of tomato soup.*

Cora: *Smiles and talks softly* Hey Hiro...

Hiro: Cora...not that I'm not happy to see you, but I don't want you here...I'm sick... and I don't want to get you si-

*Hiro is interrupted by a sneezing fit to which Cora springs into action and hands him some tissues.*

Cora: *Sternly, but still softly* Hiro, all that matters right now is taking care of you and helping you get better, and if I do get sick well than so be it. I just want you to be okay again.

*Hiro sighs at his girlfriend's reply, he was too weak to fight, and Cora's stubborn, which meant no matter how hard he tried she wouldn't leave. Besides, even though he didn't want her to get sick either, a part of him was happy that she was here and that she was going to stay and help take care of him, even the very idea of it made his heart flutter. Cora then sets the bowl of tomato soup on his desk.*

Cora: I brought some tomato soup if your hungry.

Hiro:...Thanks.

*Cora sighs before she takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to Hiro and gently take his hand in hers as she starts talking.*

Cora: You know, if Grandmama were here, she would have given you some her special healing tea already.

Hiro: *Slightly disbelieving* Really? Healing tea?

Cora: Yeah, it's her special herbal tea that she makes for Papa and I whenever we start getting sick. I call it that cause it seems like no matter how bad is our sneezes or coughs are, or how sick we feel, we end up fine the next day like nothing happened.

Hiro: Couldn't you have made it?

Cora: Oh no, that's something Grandmama only knows. She says she'll teach me when I'm older, but for now I don't know the recipe.

Hiro: *Coughs* Never thought I'd say this, *Coughs some more* but please tell me you at least brought the book.

Cora: As a matter of fact I did. I mean, I know how you feel about old-school methods of medicine, but thought maybe there might be something in here that might help you feel better.

Hiro: Hey, at this point, I'm willing to try anything to help get rid of this cold. *Starts sneezing again as Cora gives him more tissues* Uhh...even trying out old-school methods...

*Hiro brings out his laptop and starts up facechat to talk to the gang. Cora sits on a chair checking out the book for herbs that are used to treat colds while Baymax is nearby.*

Hiro: Okay Fred, what did you find out?

Fred: The Mad Jacks are an elite shadow opps-

*A cup of tea is brought to Hiro's face by Baymax.*

Baymax: Hiro, I have brewed tea for you.

Hiro: No thanks Baymax I'm not thirsty.

Baymax: A patient diagnosed with a viral infection should drink plenty of liquids.

*Seeing the growing annoyance on Hiro, Cora tentatively grabs the cup and places it next to the soup.*

Cora: Maybe I should put it here so he can drink it later Baymax...

Gogo: Hey, where's Wasabi?

*Just then a screen of Wasabi appears where he is cleaning his new computer.*

Wasabi: One more pass with the sanitizer and oh. Hey! Sorry I'm late.

*Cora and Hiro turn to Baymax who is fluffing up a pillow.*

Baymax: Hiro, a patient diagnosed with a viral infection should rest.

Wasabi: *Starting to freak out again* A viral infection?! It was a brand new computer!

*Wasabi turns off his computer before opening it again.*

Wasabi: Oh uh... a-and feel better Hiro.

*After Wasabi logs off Fred resumes his findings.*

Fred: OK, here's what I dug up. The Mad Jacks not only have a website, they have a theme song!

*The video plays the Mad Jack's theme song where admittedly, it sounded amazing.*

Jack: You got a mission? Don't sweat! We'll crank it up to jacksimum overdrive!

Mad Jacks: Jack Attack!

*After the theme song ends everyone is left with mixed reactions.*

Gogo: Wow...somebody's pounding on too many sports drinks.

Hiro: If someone hired the Mad Jacks to go after Krei, what ever he's hiding from us is a big deal!

Baymax: I will tuck you in.

*Baymax puts a blanket around Hiro's shoulders.*

Hiro:...Great.

*It seems Krei had the same idea as he looked up the group that attacked him from the night prior.*

Krei: I admit their theme song is catchy!

Lois: Did you know it costs a small fortune to hire these Mad Jack guys?

Krei: It's nice to know someone thinks I'm worth it.

Lois: They think that chip is worth it.

Krei: I bested every black market bid for this chip! It is the cutting edge... It is the future!

Lois: And you have no idea what it does?

Krei: No. But I will, the next step is to have my tech security team analyze it.

Lois: That's surprisingly cautious for you.

Krei: I'm cautious-

*The next thing they see is Jacky and Jacqueline slam into the window and slide down.*

Krei: I upgraded my office windows. Impermeable.

Lois: Just your office?

Krei: Yeah, why?

*A loud crash coming down stairs answers his question.*

Lois: Did you by any chance upgrade your floor?

*Jack pops out through the floor and grabs Krei.*

Krei: Woah I see what you mean!

*Jack flies down with Krei, leaving Lois alone. Around that night, Hiro is still blowing out his nose trying to get some rest. Cora had already left for home a couple hours ago but she did set up Hiro's laptop to listen in on any police radios in case he wants to know what's going on.*

Officer: All units disturbance reported at Krei Tech industries.

Hiro: *Tries to get up out of bed* Something's up... I knew it...*Only to fall back down again*

Officer: Reports of an arial attack.

Hiro: *Gets back up instantly* Mad Jacks!

*Hiro sees that Baymax is currently deactivated. With this chance, Hiro gets out of bed, suits up, and hops on his brother's moped. He has a little trouble staying up until he spots Jack carrying Krei. Hiro turns around and attempts to chase after them only for Jacky to grab him.*

Jacky: Shouldn't you be home in bed short stack?

Hiro: You don't even know...

Jack: Jack talk to me you gotta 20 on the bot and the girl?

Jacky: Negative Jack.

Hiro: Yeah well... y-your in for a surprise!

Jacky: Kid's bluffing, bot's not here and neither's the girl.

Hiro: Maybe... Uh that was the surprise!

Jacky: Taking Mad Jacks all alone? That is surprising... And idiotic.

*Jacky drops Hiro into a dumpster nearby, and the fall broke his leg.*

Hiro: Ahh!

*Cora stirs up in her futon when her phones starts ringing.*

Cora: *Sleepily answers*Hey...what up?...*Instantly wakes up now* Wait...you did what?! I'm on my way!

*After picking up Hiro and scolding the living crap out of him, Cora helps her sick and now broken-legged boyfriend up the stairs and into his room. hey both look up to see Baymax up pulling out a tissue.*

Baymax: I will scan you now...

*Hiro warily turns to Cora but her face still remains the same frowning glare. The very next day, Hiro is taken to the doctor again, this time for his leg.*

Doctor: Looks like you got yourself a hairline fracture of the tibia Hiro.

Hiro: *Sarcastically* Great...

Cass: A fracture? You mean like broken? Hiro, how can you break your leg when you've been sick in bed?

*This causes Hiro's mind to panic until he remembers his girlfriend's words that she told him to say if he was questioned about his leg.*

Hiro: Oh um well it was...I got up to get some water and I slipped and fell down the stairs!

Cass: Is that a thing?

Doctor: Believe it or not, injuries from falling downstairs practically happen everyday.

Baymax: Doctor, there is also a second smaller fracture in the fibula. My scan is more detailed. I will share it.

*Baymax is locked outside the office for the Doctor's sanity.*

Doctor: I said family only.

Hiro: He wants me to be satisfied with his care.

*His phone buzzes and shows the text to the doctor. It is the scan of Hiro's fibula as he had promised.*

Hiro: It's from Baymax.

Doctor: Yes, well it appears that the leg is fractured in two places.

Cass: Geez we better be careful going downstairs from now on! Maybe I should put a wet floor sign when I wax next time?

Hiro: *Groan*

*Afterwards, the entire gang is in Hiro's room. With his leg put in a cast, Honey Lemon started drawing on it, which she is soon joined by Cora. By the time they're done, it's decorated with smiling lemon faces and winking Killer Whales.*

Honey Lemon: There! A smile helps you heal! Now get well fast Hiro.

Gogo: Yeah, and quit doing dumb stuff.

Wasabi: Seriously, can't be too careful.

Fred: It's outrages! To sneak outside, in your condition, to chase down flying daredevils and not call me?! Ugh there are no words.

Hiro: Guys, I already got chewed out by Cora last night.

*Cora is crossing her arms as she continues glaring at her sick and careless boyfriend.*

Hiro: Besides, I knew Krei was in danger.

Gogo: And ya had to prove yourself right.

Hiro: I was right! And now ah ha-

*Baymax lifts up Hiro's broken leg as Honey Lemon is carrying tea.*

Baymax: Your leg should remain elevated. Also you still require fluids and rest.

Wasabi: People, the health care companion has spoken. Visiting hours are over.

Honey Lemon: Right, rest up!

Gogo: And wise up!

Fred: And no secret missions!... But if you are, you got my digits right?

Hiro: Krei's the one in danger, not me!

*When Hiro tries to climb out of bed Cora is quick to gently push him back.*

Cora: Oh no you don't!

Baymax: This situation requires persistence.

Hiro: I know! That's why I can't just give up!

*Baymax helps Cora put his broken leg back on the pillow.*

Baymax: Persistence is part of my health care matrix.

Cora: Whether you like it or not. Baymax, could you go downstairs and bring me some ice packs?

Baymax: Of course.

Cora: And bring some oranges too.

*Baymax waddles out the room, leaving the teen couple alone.*

Hiro: *Still wary of his angry girlfriend* ...So-

Cora: *And still angry at her sick boyfriend's recklessness* I still cannot stress enough about just how idiotic you were last night! You go out even though you should be resting and now you're here with a broken leg because of it!

Hiro: *Wary, but still determined* I can't just stay back and not do anything!

Cora: But not when it puts you at risk! The best way you can help is by resting up so you'll get better faster.

Hiro: I know that! But that's not going to stop me!

*Cora sighs as she stops her glare and looks down and sits on the side of his bed.*

Cora: Hiro... *Looks up at him* You're starting to sound like Tadashi...

*Hiro goes silent as he realizes what she's talking about.*

Cora: *Gently takes his hand in hers* We're all proud that we're going out there to help those people, We're all especially proud of you most of all. But if you don't take care of yourself...you're only letting them down. Back when we used to go bot fighting together, you always saved me from the police even if we got some bruises. But please Hiro, *Grasps his hand a little more tightly as she says this* please just be safe and focus more on getting better...for me?

*Hiro looks at Cora for a few moments before finally relenting and giving her a small smile.*

Hiro: Okay...I will...by the way... is your grandma home?

Cora: *Relieved* Hehe...She says she's coming home tonight. Maybe I could ask her for the tea them.

Hiro: Yeah...Speaking of tea, could you bring me the-

Cora: Oh! Sure.

*Cora gets up from the bed and reaches her arm out to grab the cup Honey Lemon left. However she instantly takes notice of loud coughing fits coming from Hiro, causing her to climb on top of him and make him lie back down.*

Cora: *Concerned* Hiro! Are you feeling alright now?

*But all she gets is a blushing red face of a boy, eyes wide as his mouth is trying to form words but fails to do so. Cora wonders what is causing Hiro to be like this until she notices that by climbing on to the bed to lie him back down from his coughing fit, she is now practically straddling him. This in turn makes Cora blush just as hard as her boyfriend as they just stare at each other with wide eyes now as they both try(and fail due to their brains understandingly malfunctioning at the moment) to figure out what to do next.*

Baymax: I have returned with the ice packs and oranges-

*Baymax stops talking as he blinks and scans the two teens in bed. A few moments of horrifyingly awkward silence rings through out the room before Baymax speaks up.*

Baymax: It is perfectly normal for you two to be experiencing strange urges when you are blossoming into manhood or womanhood. You may experience hair in strange areas like your arm pits, chest, chin, or-

Cora: *Now officially horrifyingly embarrassed as she scrabbles to get off her boyfriend* OK Baymax, that's enough now! We don't need to go through all this!

Baymax: You may also experience erec-

Hiro: *Also horrifyingly embarrassed as he tries to get the healthcare marshmallow robot to stop giving them the 'Birds and Bees' talk* No Baymax! Just stop! Go away! Or better yet, just go back into your charging unit! I am satisfied with my care! We're both satisfied with our care! Just please STOP!

*Somewhere else at this time, Krei has hacked into his cell and breaks out and than stealthily walks through the halls to find the exit*

Krei: *Slightly smug while also remembering Cora's words from before* Let's see who's the Lois Lane now.

*Krei continues walking around Mad Jacks' base until he hides besides the walls where the Jacks are working out.*

Jack: Great work Jacks!

Jacqueline: Rendezvous status?

Jack: Unknown. Client's gone real silent.

Jacqueline: Dude's creepy!

Jack: Roger that.

*Krei turns to his left to find the door that can lead him outside. He walks to the door and pushes the button only to not respond. He presses the button a couple more times before it finally opens. Krei steps one foot out only to realize that their base is a literal airship hiding in plain sight of the wind turbines. He nearly falls down until Jack pulls him back.*

Jack: Okay suit-

Krei: It's actually more of a blazer-

Jacky: Look, our employer just wants the chip.

Jacqueline: And he's kind of a freak.

Jack: So I'd hand it over if I were you.

Krei: *Sarcastically laughs* Love to know who that employer is.

Jack: Not a chance! Mad Jacks are discreet!

*Jack finally takes the chip from Krei and observes it for a bit. As he does, Krei looks at the other two Jacks and sees just how 'discreet' they really are...And after watch them do 'non-discreetly' secret handshake stuff with each other, he's not very impressed with their so called 'discretion' at all.*

*Meanwhile, back with Hiro and Cora.*

Cora: *Getting ready to leave* Okay, I'm heading home now. I called my Grandmama a little while ago and she said she'd come over later tonight to watch over you K?

Hiro: Okay, love you.

Cora: *Goes and kisses him on the cheek* Love you too babe.

*Cora goes downstairs to return home, leaving Hiro with Baymax. For the rest of the day everything ran smoothly; aside from the occasional whining it was a good day. Now it was night and Hiro is deep asleep before his phone starts ringing.*

Hiro: *Sleepy* Hello?

Krei: Haha Hello. Funny thing...I really could use Big Hero 7.

*Hiro shoots up from his bed.*

Hiro: Mr. Krei?!

Krei: Yes. I've got a problem, first of all they ruined my blazer.

*The Mad Jacks thought the appropriate spot to place Krei is on the pole on top of his building.*

*With that, Hiro calls up the rest of the gang and told them everything, and so they, sans Hiro, suit up and set out to find the Mad Jacks.*

Fred: *Singing* Big Hero 7! Fighting for the right! Searching through the night! Mad Jacks on the loose! Bunch of flying jerks~

*Since Hiro is on bedrest, all he can do is be the communication central.*

Hiro: Who have the chip and could be anywhere.

Fred: I'll incorporate that into my song but you know, make it rhyme.

Gogo: We just have to cover as much ground as we can as fast as we can!

*Meanwhile in the air, the Mad Jacks fly towards the rendezvous point their client requested.*

Jack: *Screaming* On my signal we go silent!

*He puts his finger to his lips and there the rest of the team turn off their turbines, leaving them in incognito form as they fall. As of while, Honey Lemon and Wasabi are in a taxi cab. *

Honey Lemon: They should be easy to spot!

Wasabi: Yeah, flying jet pack people should stand out.

Taxi Driver: Masquerade ball?

Wasabi: Sure. Let's go with that!

*Hiro looks at his laptop to watch the team spread out in the city to catch them.*

Hiro: Picking up anything you guys?

Baymax: No, I have not detected the jet turbines.

Cora: What he said. Nothing much here.

Hiro: How can you guys possibly search the entire city? Dang it...I should be out there helping you.

*Cora is on Baymax's back flying through the city.*

Cora: *Warning* Hiro...

Baymax: That would be counter-productive to your recovery.

Hiro: I know! I know... In bed, leg elevated!

*That's when Hiro gets an idea, but before he can act he hears footsteps coming up. He quickly dunks the helmet as he remembers that Cora's grandmother is supposed to be watching him tonight. He closes the laptop just as Kaguya comes in view.*

Kaguya: My, Hiro. You're quite awake at this late hour.

Hiro: *Trying to play it cool* Oh umm, yeah! Just doing Homework...Ma'am.

Kaguya: How is your leg dear?

Hiro: Oh it's...so-so..look is it alright if I go to the garage? There's something that I really need to work on!

*Hiro smiles nervously as he sweats, hoping this will allow him to make a special suit to fit his condition. To his relief, Kaguya nods.*

Kaguya: Of course, in fact I have something for you. My granddaughter requested I give you my special tea to help you get better.

Hiro: Oh cool! Thanks.

*Kaguya helps Hiro go downstairs, the boy being unaware that his helmet was in full view on the bed. Once they reach the garage, Hiro paddles his way to the computer and cracks his hands.*

Hiro: Okay, lets get started on-...started...on...

*Suddenly, Hiro starts to feel very sleepy. He tries to fight of the sudden drowsiness but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes open. As sleep finally starts to take him, he realizes that there's a very strange, soothing, eerily beautiful and distant-sounding voice singing. But Hiro doesn't get the chance to contemplate how it is causing him to fall asleep(nor will he remember it at all when he wakes up) As he falls into a deep, deep sleep.*

Kaguya: *Sighs as she gently strokes the sleeping boy's head* Please don't make me regret this Hiro...

*Hiro's eyes slowly flutter open, his ears ringing with strange noise and along with it appears to be...a song. He finally opens his eyes but appears to be in some sort of trance. He finds himself clearly alone in the garage, his super suit laid out on a chair. He looks down to find his leg castless and his nose clear. He slowly puts his leg down as pressure slowly builds, but it remains the same as always, as if it had never been broken. That's when he seems to awaken from his trance-like state and his head snaps back to the mission at hand.*

*The Mad Jack group finally spot the building they're supposed to drop off and with that, they activate their parachutes.*

Fred: I'm coming up empty. Dang it! I just know the Jacks are making their move!

*The Jacks land safely on the building where they stealthily walk across the roof. Jack finds the skylight and uses his laser to cut it clean off, but he accidentally causes the glass to fall and crash to the floor. Jack climbs down the rope as he continuously hides himself in case they have someone following them as they make their deposit.*

Obake: Good evening.

Jack: *Startled* Ah!

*Behind him upstairs is Obake in all his malice.*

Obake: Do you come bearing Alistair Krei's black market chip?

Jack: You hired the Mad Jacks! The Mad Jacks guarantee success! Success and have it! And it's always awesome!

*Jack pulls out the chip to show him. Obake uses a level to come down and takes the chip, he then activates his tracking watch where Big Hero 7 is searching for the Mad Jacks throughout town.*

Obake: Ooh...Big Hero 7 on the move.

Jack: Alright focus up this is how I see it, we keep the enemy occupied, you escape with the package! Mission accomplished.

Obake: Super. Although...

Jack: Hey! My plan is diamond! Flawless!

Obake: The security of the package is paramount...

Jack: Alright alright I-I-I hear you let me just uh...okay minor adjustment. I will keep the package secure until the enemy is neutralized! Booyah!

*Obake hands back the chip, satisfied with his plan.*

Jack: Hey you...good catch. Mad Jacks! Let's fly!

*Jack runs off to join his team while Obake simply smirks as the left side of his face glows an ominous pink.*

Jack: Listen up Jacks! Keep your eyes peeled for hostiles!

Jacquline: how many Jack?

Jack: Well with the handle like Big Hero 7 I figure we're looking at somewhere between six and eight.

Jacqueline: Roger that! Perimeter sweeping progress, I will-

*Just then, Fred drops on her from above and covers her mouth.*

Fred: Give Fredzilla a piggy back ride? I'm in!

*Jacqueline flies down due to the weight while Jacky comes to her aid. But before he can fire out his shot, Gogo's disk hits him square and crashes him into a pile of boxes...until he blasts off again. Gogo zooms through the streets as she avoids the zaps. Finally she uses both her discs to ricochet them to Jacky's head and knock him out for good. As of while Jacqueline is still struggling with Fred.*

Jacqueline: Not cool!

Fred: Hey-Hey! Don't make me hurl in here!

*As Fred is spinning right round, Wasabi and Honey Lemon finally arrive at the scene where Fred is sent landing on the taxi cab.*

Honey Lemon: Don't worry Freddy, we're here to help!

Taxi Driver: Must be some kind of party huh?

*Wasabi pulls out his wallet and hands the cash to the driver.*

Wasabi: It usual is...keep the change.

*Then finally, Baymax and Cora arrive to the fighting.*

Baymax: It would be preferable to resolve this conflict without violence.

Jack: No way! The violence rocks!

*Cora and Baymax turn their heads to see Jack behind them.*

Jack: It's a major part of the Mad Jack program! Ohh have a taste!

*Jack fires the cannon as Cora quickly dodges out of the way while Baymax is struck, crashing him into a wall.*

Cora: Baymax!

Jack: And the bot is down for the count! *Turns around and starts to take aim at Cora* And now it's the little girlie's turn!

Hiro: Not a chance!

*They all turn their heads to see Hiro, his suit upgraded.*

Hiro: Those two have been taking care of me...time for me to return the favor!

Honey Lemon: Hiro?

Wasabi: Have you lost it?

Cora: How are you here?! What about your cold and your leg?!

*Baymax looks up and scans him...but he does not speak for a good minute.*

Honey Lemon: Is something wrong Baymax?

*Baymax blinks until he finally speaks.*

Baymax: Hiro is completely cured of his cold and his leg is completely healed as well.

Big Hero 7: *Completely and utterly shocked* What?!

*But their attention is turned to Jack as he begins to fire up his cannon and shoots at Hiro, but Hiro is dodging every single one of them. He goes down and throws away the cannon, but just as Jack is about to lay a taser on him, Cora jumps up and starts punching him in the face.*

Cora: Hey! Remember me big boy? The 'little girlie' you were gonna blast!

*Finally Baymax flies up to join them.*

Hiro: Thanks Baymax.

Baymax: You are welcome.

*Jack with nothing else left, grabs Cora by the wrist and starts flying away from them.*

Jack: Stay back! Or...I will drop her!

Hiro: Boosters deploy!

*Hiro activates the boosters and starts following them.*

Jack: Oh yeah! Eat my dust! Wha-?

*Hiro stops in front of him, Cora still in his hand. When he tries to fly back, Baymax is behind him.*

Jack: The bot!

*Jack tries to fly away but the restraint of Hiro and Baymax causes the jet turbine to come off, leading Jack and Cora falling to the ground. Immediately Baymax catches Jack while Hiro catches Cora. *

Baymax: Perhaps you should consider less dangerous activities.

Jack: Maybe you should- think about...whatever!

Cora: *Not impressed* Wow, that was pretty weak.

Hiro: Krei's chip please.

*Jack pulls out the chip and hands it to Cora, who turns to Hiro and smile.*

Cora: Thank you...Greg.

Jack: Wow, that's cold...Jack Extraction! ASAP!

*Jack gets out Baymax's arms. Soon the rest of the Mad Jacks join him as they fly away. The three land safely on the ground, though Cora is still being held by Hiro.*

Cora: Umm...Hiro you can let go now.

Hiro: Oh! A-alright, yeah s-sure.

*Hiro places Cora on the ground as the teens blushes.*

Wasabi: Sorry to break up the love fest here, but how is your leg healed?! You broke it just last night! And not mention you were also sick with a bad cold to go with it!

Hiro: *Genuinely confused* Last night? Wasabi I broke my leg two weeks ago, not last night. And I got over my cold a week ago remember?

Fred: *Now really confused* But Honey Lemon and Cora decorated your cast just today! How did you heal so quickly?!

That's when Baymax notices something on Hiro's armor. But when he touches it there is a moment of white and a eerily strange and beautiful voice singing and it almost sounded like it was coming from all around them. However, none of them had the chance to contemplate this as at the moment, they were all, sans Baymax, seemed to be in a hypnotic trance. this goes on only for a few moments before the singing fades away and everything resumes back to reality. The rest of the gang then seem to finally come out of their trances and shake their heads a little before they look around, wondering what just happened, but have absolutely no memory of what they were talking about before and only seem to remember they same things Hiro remembers about his former cold and former broken leg. But since everything seemed fine, they turned their focus back on to the mission they had just succeeded.*

Hiro: Can you guys get this back to Krei?

Gogo: No problem.

Honey Lemon: Did you add those features in recently? They're amazing!

Hiro: Oh this is actually just a beta best. Just in case anything happens.

Cora: Just be careful Hiro, you don't want to break your leg again after it's just recently healed you know.

*The gang chuckle before they leave to return the chip to Krei Tech. None of them noticing the mysterious figure watching them silently from the shadows as they left, the figure steps out from the shadows and reveals to be none other then Kaguya!*

*Later on that night, Kaguya returns home and walks towards her room, ready to call it a night. She pours the liquid from her water bottle back into a teapot that is next to an assortment of flowers, herbs, and marine life. And beside the pot is a single page of a drawing of a peculiar-looking liquid with a list of ingredients.*

Kaguya: *Sighs as she looks at the page* One day... I will have to tell her...I just hope that she will understand and forgive me for keeping all of this from her...

*Meanwhile, Obake is at his lair, waiting for the final step of his plan.*

Obake: Looking at his watch* And by now, the chip should be back in Alistair's hands.

*Back at Krei Tech, Krei is thinking over the situation with Lois.*

Krei: The moment of truth!

Lois: The moment when you turn it over to the security team...instead of doing something stupid!

Obake: Is there something wrong Alistair? The reckless tycoon showing caution? Restraint?

Krei: I need the tech security team.

*Krei presses a button to summon the tech security.*

Obake: But Alistair remembered the abduction. Who can you trust? Who's on your side? Who knows?

*Krei looks at the chip.*

Krei: Actually...never mind...

*Krei cancels the call.*

Krei: But the person who was after this, whoever hired the Mad Jacks.

Lois: What about them?

Krei: What if they infiltrated my security team!

Lois: Like what? A spy? You're not usually this paranoid.

Krei: Hey I was abducted it does things to you.

*Krei places the chip in his computer and waits. On Obake's side it opens a camera to Krei and Lois.

Krei: I'm not taking any chances.

Obake: There we are Alistair. That's the stuff.

Krei: We will be the only ones who sees what's on this.

*A few moments fly by...but the folder inside the chip...revealed nothing.*

Lois: Nothing?

Krei: No! The money! T-The abduction! Everything that happened! It was all for nothing!?

Lois: It probably is better that we were the only ones who saw this.

*However this leads to Obake having access to Krei Tech's blueprints.*

Obake: So many files! so many secrets...

*Finally he pulls up the file containing the identities of the two hero teens, the first showing a boy.*

Obake: Ah, Hiro Hamada...now let's see who the girl's true iden-

*But as he pulls up the girl's file and reads her name, his eyes widen in shock and than starts to chuckle slowly before he flat out laughs maniacally. His mind begins to shift his vision of the photo of the girl, first by figuring similarities of a man he trusted long ago...then the girl in the photo begins to shift her features and find it strikingly similar to a lost beloved long ago..the purple eyes turning green.*

Obake: Cora Mizichio...what a charming name for such a charming girl. So much like my beloved Chara...

*Obake's fist tightens as on his hand glows the same ominous pink color as the left side of his face does...but in a shape of a scorpion-like crustacean.*

#Big Hero 7 #Big Hero 6 fanfic #Hiro Hamada #Cora Mizichio #Hiro Hamada x OC #Baymax #fred frederickson iv #alistair krei #lois carter #Gogo tomago #Honey Lemon #Wasabi #Mad Jacks #Aunt Cass #Grandmama #Kaguya Sakurai

[lalcne-blog]

index: saber vanille

spring. clear skies. gold. high fashion suits. stress headaches. kissed hands. lost opportunities. the world on someone’s shoulders. strawberries. red roses without thorns. midday naps.

          HE LEARNS FROM a young age that what he wants, he gets. the staff of the seelie court trip over themselves to cater to his every need, and while he would never treat these wonderful people as anything less than his friends, it is clear to everyone aside from himself that he takes advantage of their positions.

          he learns from a young age that, for the most part, what he wants, he gets.

          it’s a dangerous lesson for such a young child to learn, but he uses it for the most trivial of reasons. he never asks for anything dangerous. all he asks for is some snacks, for a bath to be run, for someone to play with because his parents are busy.

          he’s told that he ❝ is a joy to serve ❞, and it is a compliment he takes in stride for the rest of his life.

          the only people he can’t bend to his whims are his parents, who are kind but firm in the way they rule both their people and their children. this only causes trivial arguments that last barely a minute until he’s old enough to attend school, and that is when the first real disagreement strikes.

          ❝ what do you mean i can’t go to school with everyone else ?? ❞ saber asks, turning his head towards the window where the other children are playing outside. he doesn’t know most of them. he’s only really spoken to the noble fae.

          ❝ you’ll still receive the proper education you would at school, plus the extra information you’ll need to learn to be a proper crown prince. it’s more convenient to teach you that way, ❞ his mother tells him, as though a five year old would be more worried about his education than how much he can play.

          he whines, stamping his feet, and his mother frowns as he says, ❝ but i wanna go to school !! mama, i wanna !! i wanna !! ❞

          ❝ no, saber, and that’s final, ❞ his mother says in that tone of hers that is both gentle and final simultaneously.

          he continues to whine as she leaves the room despite knowing it won’t work.

          he doesn’t go to school. he isn’t cut-off from the outside world by any means, able to play with the other children as he pleases, but the distance between them is growing now that they’re not attending the same school. his lessons become more demanding as he grows older and he spends less and less time with those outside of the royal home until they are simply friendly acquaintances.

          the older he becomes, the more handsome he becomes, and the more off-limits he becomes. nobody approaches him if he strolls around the market place. all they do is stare and bow and say nothing more than a greeting, and that is only if he greets them first.

          it’s lonely at first, and it remains lonely for quite some time, until he decides to take it in his stride just as he has with everything else and changes things for his own benefit. he realises that to make a difference, he must make the effort himself.

          rather than staying silent on his outings, he walks up to people, greets them, kisses their hand, asks them how they’re doing, what they’re doing, why they’re doing it. these are his people. he knows that he will always be on a pedestal and that people will always flush around him and avoid eye contact out of embarrassment and amazement ( and he will admit, it does make him feel pretty fantastic that he has this effect on people ), but he can do his damn hardest to ensure that the gap between them is as small as possible.

          he tells himself that he doesn’t need to attend school, that he isn’t lonely, that this is good for him, but there are times where his resolve falters.

          ❝ valentine will be attending lucille academy, starting at the end of this month. ❞

          like now.

          he whirls around, his wings almost knocking down the assortment of hair products on his vanity, and stares at his mother with wide eyes. while he can no longer see his own reflection, he knows the betrayal is written all over his face.

          ❝ valentine gets to go ?? ❞ his voice takes on a childish tone that only his mother ever hears nowadays, and even then it’s rare. she doesn’t seem surprised. perhaps she knew exactly how he would react.

          ❝ valentine isn’t the crown princess. she isn’t able to inherit the crown, but she does have the freedom to choose where she studies. both of your roles come with pros and cons, saber. ❞

          feeling as if he’s eaten several lemons at once, saber bites back the retort burning in the back of his throat and returns to fixing his hair.

          ❝ of course, mother. you’re right. ❞

          his words ring hollow in his ears.

          strategy meetings have been on his agenda since the tender age of eighteen, almost like a coming of age ceremony. he doesn’t find them particularly interesting, especially as there is nothing to strategize against, but he keeps his opinion to himself. he’s learned that, at least for now, his job is to sit with his back straight and listen to every detail, a vault of military information.

          he only attempts to change that status quo once.

          ❝ and that concludes the meeting, ❞ his father says, nodding to the minutes man, who starts closing their record book.

          ❝ actually, ❞ saber begins, gaining the attention of everyone at the small, round table, ❝ i have something i would like to bring up first. ❞

          his parents look at each other in surprise, but not anger, which he takes as a good sign. the captain of their forces ( who he’s sure don’t do much at all, as threats have been few and far between since before he was born ) and his second in command emote less, but they turn to him with what he assumes is interest. the minute man opens the record book once again.

          ❝ alright, saber, ❞ his mother says with a nod and the briefest of smiles. ❝ go ahead. ❞

          ❝ it’s more of a question, ❞ he starts, and he directs his attention to his parents as he speaks. while the captain and his troops are formidable ( probably, he wouldn’t know ), all decisions come down to his parents. everyone knows that.

          ❝ i’m wondering about the war that’s been waging between the unseelie court and the elves. it’s been going on for years, and i’ve kept quiet about it so far, but why does no one in this room ever bring it up at meetings ?? ❞

          he doesn’t miss the way his parents’ eyes flicker towards each other. they’ve always been good at silent communication, especially when one or both of their children are in the room. he thinks they perfected it long before he was born.

          it’s his mother who responds with, ❝ the seelie and unseelie courts have an agreement, saber, you know that. we have a treaty that we remain neutral with each other. we do not harm them and they do not harm us. ❞

          ❝ i don’t want to harm them, ❞ saber says, and perhaps he’s jumping in too quickly to defend himself, but he can’t stand any implication that he would ever want to hurt anyone. that isn’t the type of ruler he wants to be. ❝ innocent elven lives are being taken, does that mean nothing to you ?? ❞

          ❝ saber, do not talk to your mother like that, ❞ his father warns, but all it does is serve as a reminder that he isn’t an heir in this situation. he’s still just a child arguing with his parents. ❝ the treaty states that the unseelie affairs are their own, just as our affairs are our own. we’ve maintained this relationship with them for an incredibly long time. we can’t risk it. ❞

          or they might turn on us, instead. saber hears it, even if it’s never spoken.

          ❝ you didn’t answer my question, ❞ he continues, as if he wasn’t just scolded. ❝ what about the elves ?? their lives are at stake. ❞

          ❝ that isn’t our call to make, ❞ his mother says, voice strained. she’s losing her patience. ❝ the unseelie court may be the only kingdom we have a binding contract with, but the sentiment remains the same across every kingdom: we mind our business, they mind theirs. ❞

          the tone of finality sink into saber’s brain, which is just as well, as he’s quickly realising that he isn’t about to win this one. perhaps he knew that all along. perhaps all he wanted was to imprint the issue in his parents’ minds, and if so, seeing the fruits of his efforts will take time. but he doesn’t really know anything, does he ??

          he stands, his back just as straight as it was when sitting, and says, ❝ then i suppose this meeting is adjourned. ❞

          with a quick bow to the three silent spectators -- not that he blames them, because it isn’t their place to disagree with the king and queen -- he leaves the room without looking back.

          when he’s left to his own devices, saber doesn’t know what to do with himself. his schedule is so demanding that hobbies are hard to come by, and even then, they seem to link back to his teachings.

          one might say that being the crown prince is all he knows how to be.

          with all of the interesting books in the royal library having been read once, twice, thrice over, he instead turns to the news archives to occupy his time. they span over years, the oldest from hundreds of years before his birth, and they aren’t solely from the seelie court, either. he can find headlines from every kingdom in existence, and he finds many of them more intriguing than those from home.

          but many of those headlines speak of terror and danger and all that is wrong with the world.

          ❛ WIZARD STUDENT BECOMES LATEST VICTIM OF DARK TIRADE ❜

          ❛ NORTHERN TERRITORY ELVES AMBUSHED, 53 DEAD ❜

          ❛ FAMILY MANSION ON FIRE, SEARCH FOR REMAINS UNDERWAY ❜

          these are things he wasn’t taught. these are the unsung heroes and victims of a world that is becoming increasingly unforgiving. his court is only a small sliver of what is out there in the big, wide world, and he’ll be damned if he isn’t going to learn every inch of it and beyond.

          a dull ache between his eyes pulls him from his thoughts and he massages the bridge of his nose.

          he supposes he’ll need to learn to save himself first.

#「♔」saber vanille #「♔」saber vanille | isms #「♔」saber vanille | para #「♔」para #「♔」worldbuilding #aGAIN: SORTA