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the-evil-authoress · 3 years

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GX Month Day 14: “Clock Tower Prison”

A man imprisoned by his destiny and hellbent on revenge. Seek justice today with the pro duelist vigilante Edo/Aster Phoenix!

I cycled through three different ideas before finally landing on this. Season three is what I know best.

Victoryshipping ahoy!

In which Zane is lonely and bad at coping, and Aster is very gay.

No seriously, this ain’t like Chazz day. This is 500 words of make out.

A part of Aster still thinks he should have expected this - been more careful, something - because he already knows Jaden never looks before he leaps and all his friends will chase after him. The rest of Aster is more concerned with surviving this nightmare until he can find a way home. Sartorius must be panicking by now.

Learning that duels aren’t just duels anymore had been the first challenge. ‘Sacred battles’ the monsters of this realm called them, where the rules of the game meant jack shit and participants fought for their very lives. Aster rubs his arm where he’d - thankfully - caught the broadside of a sword. It could have been a lot worse.

His nose slams into a broad back as Zane jerks to a halt in front of him. “Break lights would be nice,” Aster mumbles, rubbing his face as he peers around his travel companion - Zane is definitely not the first person Aster would have chosen to go on an interdimensional field trip with. A few meters ahead of them, some paces outside the gate to the fortress they’d been aiming to check out, sit for mounds of freshly turned dirt. A Duel Academy issue duel disk stands lodged into each one.

Oh.

Aster’s arm throbs, a very real reminder of his own mortality, as he and Zane wander closer. “These look like grave markers.” The calm of his voice surprises even himself as he bends down to inspect one of the disks. Perhaps he’s come face to face with death one too many times to get worked up over it.

Zane inhales sharply and Aster glances up in time to see the horror flash in his eyes before the man turns briskly away. “It doesn’t concern us. Let’s go.”

Yeah, Aster doesn’t believe that for a second. Zane sounded harsh, too harsh for someone who didn’t care. Anger always precedes another deeper emotion. Looking across the other three duel disks, Aster spies the blocky “10join!” sharpied between the dome and the back row activation buttons. He wonders which sibling was so unfortunate, or if they both were.

Aster notices things. He likes watching and analyzing and figuring out what makes people tick. It’s a great way to get under his opponent’s skin and throw them off balance; it’s a useful skill for interrogation. This is neither, but Aster still notices things. In fact, Zane makes it very hard not to notice things. The gap between them lessens with each passing day; Zane gradually sits closer and closer when the two of them make camp, until they eventually end up hip-to-hip and shoulder-to-shoulder. Aster doesn’t mind the closeness - he and Sartorius have had a skinskip going for years - but Hell freaking Kaiser is quite possibly the last person he ever thought he would participate in such intimacy with. Case in point, right now, in the dead of night, laying next to their campfire, Zane has his head on Aster’s chest.

Real talk, Zane isn’t unattractive and Aster is very, very gay. And getting frustrated. And he’s never really been the ‘wait around see’ type; he is very much the ‘act upon given information’ type, and Zane has given him plenty in actions alone over the past few weeks.

“Oi, Zane.” Aster taps the other duelist’s shoulder and waits for Zane to lift his head and look him in the eye. What happens next is pure impulse. Aster intends to question Zane about their current relationship, but somehow that signal gets scrambled on its way from his brain to his mouth, all he can think about is how much Zane’s eyes’s look like the ocean, and he ends up kissing Zane instead.

Sweet Destiny Heros, why?

Zane goes rigid against him, expression stiff with shock. Aster bites back a grimace. “Did I misread the room?”

Zane’s expression shifts minutely as emotions play across his face like some kind of internal debate between them. Whatever conclusion they come to, Zane relaxes against Aster once more. “No,” he says at length and kisses Aster back.

Zane is...rough, to put it mildly. This is by no means Aster’s first kiss - he did some experimenting during his time of self discovery - but this...this is intense. Zane brings the same ferocity from his duels, and Aster can’t even tell what their lips are even doing anymore; can’t even tell if he wants to know the details beyond the fact it makes his head feel fuzzy and light and tingly. His hands bury themselves in Zane’s hair - thick and coarse - as Zane shifts to kiss down Aster’s jaw and neck. Except it’s not really kissing anymore, there’s too much teeth.

“Ow! Stop biting!” Flinching, Aster tugs on Zane’s hair. With a small grunt, Zane smoothes the flat of his tongue over the offended skin and begins trailing soft, butterfly light kisses across Aster’s neck. Oh, that does funny things to Aster’s insides. Neck tingling, he arches and writhes, unsure if he wants to get away or get closer. Both? Ah, fuck-

With a tiny whine, he pulls Zane away from his neck to crush their lips together again in the confusing, intoxicating dance. Zane’s hands stroke down Aster’s sides and tease his hips through the fabric. Aster jerks, horrified by the tiny noise that gets muffled against Zane’s mouth.

“Stop pulling,” Zane murmurs, voice rough, and yet Aster recognizes it as a request rather than a demand. Still, he releases Zane’s hair to grab a fist full of black fabric, shaking with the electrifying feeling Zane’s touch sends across his skin.

And hand tugs his shirt from his waistband and Aster’s hand snaps down to grab Zane’s wrist. “Keep your pants on, Marufuji, I’m not legal yet.”

Zane snorts - Aster’s far too fried and tingly and wired to begin comprehending what the sounds means - but smooths his hand up Aster’s chest over the fabric regardless. Aster lets his hand drop to the ground as Zane fits his face snug against Aster’s neck and lies there, while Aster tries to regain control of his breathing. There is something insanely hot about having Zane’s full weight pressing Aster against the ground, but he wouldn’t be able to breathe like this for long.

“Hey.” He pushes Zane’s shoulder. “I need to breathe.”

Zane’s eyebrows furrow before he makes a soft sound and shifts his weight to the side, allowing Aster his first full breath since this...whatever this was began. One arm rests around Aster’s waist with Zane’s face still snug against Aster’s neck.

Idly tracing his fingers up and down Zane’s arm, Aster stares at a starless sky. His heart rate slows, his breath returns to normal, his skin stops tingling save for the ghost of Zane’s breath on his neck. Maybe one good thing came out of this crazy fieldtrip.

#gxmonth2021 #aster phoenix #edo phoenix #zane truesdale #marufuji ryo #victoryshipping #ygo gx #yugioh gx #yu gi oh gx

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imnotasuperhero · 4 years

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I would lie and say you’re not in my mind.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Type: Angst.

Summary: Reader finds herself alone, with no explanation as to where Wanda went. And life without her was a true nightmare she could only scape with not-so-nice coping mechanisms.

Wordcount: 2644

Warnings: Drug abuse, one suicidal thought and depression.

A/N: This is my submission for @jbbarnesnnoble writing challenge! I’m so sorry for the delay. Life and work got in the middle, leaving me drained to get some actual writing done. You can search this and other works with the tag #JBBNNMHAMChallenge which deals with different types of mental healt, as to raise awarenes about it.

A/N 2: Since it’s inspired in real events, I decided to twist this and give it a happy ending. People need to know there is hope. No matter how hard life becomes, you’ve got this and you shouldn’t suffer alone. Fight your fear and seek for help. I promise, life is worth living.

A huge than you to @marvelfansince08love for enduring her patience with my rants and mini meltdown about this monster. I could never thank you enough for puting up with my dumb ass, boo. I owe you a lot! <3

If you guys want more, I might have a plot for some kind of spin-off for this story. Just let me know. Also, criticism is welcomed.

"Miss Stark," one of the executives called your attention. "Your nose is bleeding."

Automatically, your fingers found your nose and yup, it was happening. Fucking hell.

Excusing yourself, you left the conference room with rapid steps to the closest bathroom, dismissing whoever you crossed on your way. You weren't new to this, after all.

Once you got the bleeding under control, you inspected yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was nothing like your old self. The circles under the eyes needed much more concealing and your smiles were forced. But at least you picked a black blouse today, which it'll do until you got a chance to go back home and change.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Julia asked sheepishly.

"No. I'm capable of handling the rest of the day," you mumbled as you finished the last touches to your make-up.

"Mr. Stark could find-"

"Mr. Stark will find out shit," you cut your assistant. "This is just a sneeze that caused a vein to pop. Understood?" You could see how the woman in front of you shivered slightly and you almost laugh at it. You've become so pity.

"Y-yes, Miss. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No." You inspected yourself in the mirror once again before walking out. "Go over the rest of my day and make sure you send the informs to Stewart."

Fortunately, the day progressed smoothly with very few bumps. And none of them were about you, so you took it as a victory.

Kicking your high heels after closing the door behind you, you started to strip while walking towards the bathroom. The weekend was finally here, which meant you could wind out and enjoy your own company. After the latest events on Beto's, you made sure to lay low for a while. You didn't need another clingy bitch hanging from you all the time. You were just a gal wanting to have some release. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the middle of your calming bath, the sharp razor you kept for emergencies caught your eyes. 'God, it'd be so easy.' You thought to yourself. Just a little line in the right place would do it. The consuming pain would disappear and you'd be free. Hell, maybe you'd find her again in the afterlife.

Before you could continue the line of thoughts, your phone rang with your dad's personalized ringtone. Something you made sure of for when you were doing not-so-nice activities.

"Hey, dad." You absentmindedly sank deeper in the tub. The bubbly water covering up to under your jaw.

"Hi, Peanut." Tony's voice soothed your damaged soul the littlest bit. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answered nonchalantly. Lying has become second nature by now. "Living the life. How are you guys?"

"That's what I called you about. Pepper and I want you to come to spend the weekend here. We barely see you outside work so we thought it'd be nice to take advantage of the long weekend. Pleeeeaaase? With a cherry on top?" He finished in a child's voice and you felt your heart squeeze itself.

Truth was, you were tired of lying all the time. You were tired of faking and saying you were okay when you weren't.

"Okay," you sighed.

"Yay!" Yup, he was a child. "We'll get your room ready. We'll have your favorite."

You didn't know the exact moment you started crying, your dad going a mile a minute talking about his latest invention and how he'd love for you to help him figure out the last touches.

Hanging up, you finally let out the awaiting sobs. Memories of an easier -and happier- time plaguing your mind, making it harder and harder to breathe. Life without her sucked balls.

After drying yourself and throwing on a fresh pair of pajamas, you quickly fixed your bag for the weekend, knowing fully well you'll wake up with just the right spare time before you had to leave for your dad's.

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm went off, which would be fine if it weren't for Wanda appearing in your dreams. Promises of a better life and reaching milestones together, fanning the painful fire in your heart.

Walking to your stash, you retrieved the white powder, forming three consecutive lines on your nightstand. A small straw between your fingers ready to be used. You wouldn't be able to consume when you were at your dad's, so you better took your chance before it was too late. Odin knew you needed the boost.

Stopping at a random café a few blocks from your home, you quickly got yourself a black coffee and a muffin before hitting the pedal once again, changing the playlist to something more upbeat.

Soon enough, your mind drifted to the impromptu road trips you'd do with Wanda. Sometimes even a week-long trip. Just the two of you apart from the chaos of your lives.

Out on the road, it was only laughs, music, and fast food with the occasional make-out sessions. God, if you could, you'd live in the past forever.

Stepping out of your car, you couldn't help the smile that broke your face. Working in the same place as your dad didn't mean you've got to see him every day. And being honest, you were happy he offered you scape from her curse.

"Hi, dad." You answered once you reached him, returning his hug. And boy, didn't you felt safe in those strong arms. They never failed to soothe you.

After what seemed like hours of walking around your dad's property, you and Pepper came back to the house ready for a refreshing iced tea. But any trace of a nice calming bath dissipated away when you say your dad standing in the middle of the living room, his face stoic.

"What's this?" The quietness of his voice freezing your blood.

"I'm waiting, Y/N."

You cringed at your dad's voice. The disappointment showing in his eyes made you regret not checking before you grabbed a random bag for this trip.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is not what I think it is," he begged, showing you and Pepper the almost empty baggy between his fingers. And you ignored him. He already knew the truth, after all. "Say it," he growled.

"So the bleeding nose-"

"Screw you," you muttered, cutting Pepper mid-sentence.

"Hey! That's no way to talk to her,"

"You know what?" You walked to your dad, looking up to his eyes. "Yes, I'm an addict. Good job, Sherlock. Now you can get rid of me as you did with my mom. After all, you never wanted me in the first place, so why should it matter." You snapped with burning tears in your eyes. "There's no need to keep faking it anymore." You walked away, leaving them mouth agape, trying to process your words.

Plopping down on your bed, you couldn't help the feeling of failure igniting inside you. The tears in your eyes burning your eyes as they appeared, flowing down your cheeks as the sadness and emptiness became just too much to handle.

You didn't remember when was the last time you were genuinely happy. And it sucked that it depended on someone. It sucked and you despised it more than anything. But then again, Wanda was everything you'd need to live in this world. Always positive, with a smile so bright that could light up the darkest room. Her eyes? God, you loved losing yourself in those green orbs of hers in the afterglow. And now you had to live without all these little things that made you happy. All the little moments of joy were gone, tuning you into this sack of bones and flesh, with no expectations for life.

It wasn't till much later that night that you left your room, after ignoring your dad's callings.

Padding your way to the bar, you served yourself a whiskey. The burning on your troat a welcomed feeling. Your mind going back to her, as it was the normalcy since she dusted away, leaving you with thousands of questions and a hole in your heart that you knew well you could never fill again. How could you, when you knew she was it? how could you even try to patch it up, when you knew there was no one else like her?

One whiskey turned into 5 and you didn't know when you started to cry, considering you thought there were no tears left after all these years. But the strong hand on your shoulder made you snap from your pity party, hurriedly drying your tears. Crying was for the weak, and boy were you weak.

"I'm sorry," you drowned the last of your drink before looking up, mustering the best stoic face you could.

"You don't need to fake around me, Peanut. We're family," your dad poured you another drink as he got one himself.

"Look, what happened with your mother has nothing to do with you." He continued once he sat beside you. "And I would never leave you alone, Y/N. No matter how many headaches you give me." He joked but composed himself when you didn't react to it. "I- Pepper is pregnant. And we really want you in the baby's life. But.. Look, if there was a way to bring her back, I would. In a heartbeat. But Y/N, you have to understand, she wouldn't like this version of you. If not for yourself, do it for us,"

You wanted to speak, you wanted to answer him. But the lump in your throat was too big to swallow and the knife in your heart twisted when you saw your dad's eyes tearing up. And fuck did it hurt. To see him cry -for the first time- pained you like hell. And knowing you were the cause of those tears made you feel like you were the worst person alive.

"I-," you paused to gather your bearings, but your dad beat you to it.

"I know, Peanut," his arms surrounded you in that way that only him could.

"I promise you," he continued once you broke away. "One day, it will get easier. Those feelings will never fully go away, but it will get easier." He dried your tear-stained cheeks softly. "You are not alone. And she'll always be with you,"

And despite the grief eating you from the inside, you knew you had to live. For them. For her.

The next few months had been a true rollercoaster. You didn't know the abstinence would affect you so badly. And while others would have it much worse, you couldn't help the change of moods and the few tears you caused to those around you. Not to mention, the significant drop in your moods. But you also knew better. You've kept your word, and you hadn't touched it again.

Under Natasha's supervision, you got rid of every secret stash you had at both, your apartment and your office, and you deleted the number of your dealer. And even if sometimes it seemed like hell would manifest itself as Nat was your watcher, you couldn't be more glad because, admittedly, the woman had balls and she did knew how to bribe you, to the point that you'd even quit drinking even if it was more of a social addiction, in your case. That, mixed with Natasha's friendship and support -as well as those around you- and the birth of Morgan, your little sister had you believing once more, even if you knew you'd never get to be the same person you once were.

The little bundle of joy had come to this world with a few rays of sunshine for you, finally opening your eyes and making you realize that there was hope. Even if you never saw her again, life was worth living and you'd live it for her at your best capacity.

So when Pepper asked you to babysit Morgan for a few days, considering she couldn't bring a 2 months old baby with her, you accepted in a heartbeat.

But as you were awoken by a fussing Morgan, after an eventful night in which you barely slept, you realized this might've not been your brightest idea.

Inhaling deeply, you got up and walked to her room, picking her up from her crib and rocking her as you made your way to the kitchen. Babies were a fucking clock. Which only served to add to your decision of never having kids.

If you were on the verge of tears most of the time, wishing deeply for her parents to come back so you could have time for yourself, you knew you'd be mental if you had to live through this for the rest of your life.

Your ears catching the front door opening made you stop mid singing, turning around as you walked to the hushed words as you feed a calmed down Morgan just to stop dead in your tracks when you saw her. The only reason you stood still, was the baby in your arms.

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign that this was just a dream. That the image of your girlfriend was just a projection of your mind, like so many other times before during these 5 years since she disappeared from your arms. But the silence surrounding you all and 8 pairs of eyes inspecting you made you realize that this wasn't a dream.

The cries of Morgan took you all from your reverie and soon, Pepper was by your side, taking the baby from your arms before kissing the top of your head, something she always did whenever you felt unsettled.

"Peanut-"

"Is she real?" You questioned as you scrutinized a fidgety Wanda, who stood by the door, ready to run away if needed.

Natasha could sense your turmoil growing with every single second that passed and soon enough you felt a strong pair of arms supporting you, ready to catch you if you fell.

"She's here, Maliska. We brought her back," she spoke quietly, making sure you understood her words.

The wild thoughts on your mind got you walking towards her. The need to touch her and prove yourself that she was back, got your fingers itching. You could feel the blood running in your ears and you shaking steps as you got closer to who you thought was gone forever, leaving you empty and moving through life like a zombie.

The choke that broke through you when your hand cupped her cheek got you smiling as tears rolled down with every erratic thump of your heart.

"You're here," you whispered, afraid of breaking the spell you've found yourself into.

But you couldn't stay in that thought for long because an intimately familiar pair of arms surrounded you as Wanda threw yourself at you, hiding her face on the crook of your neck.

Feeling her hot breath against your skin was all you needed to finally give in and hold her with all you had, knowing that she was here; with you.

You didn't know how long you both stood there, holding each other and basking in the calmness that surrounded you. All your previous tormenting thoughts dissipated in that exact moment. Wanda was back and you found the hole in your heart start to fill itself.

"Hi, Printsessa," Wanda murmured against your neck, kissing her way up to your jaw, peppering your face with kisses before she finally kissed your lips. And boy, did your knees trembled.

After 5 long years, the lips you've got used to kissing whenever you pleased were once against yours, igniting all the love and hope and good things you got to feel once upon a time.

You can find the continuation, here (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @wannabe-fic-reader @natasha-danvers @jumbojamba47 @rooskaya-yelena @sananabdliw @aaron-despair @username23345 @nate-the-dreamer @higherfurther-romanova

#wanda maximoff x reader #I-#lkhfkjgfkjgaf #my writing #jbbnnmhamchallenge #mental health tw #feel free to scream at me

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roerowerow · 6 years

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How do I explain

How do I explain to my extremely sexually active parents that their fears about my long distance relationship with my girlfriend are some of the best parts of my relationship?

They’re scared that my girlfriend and I might not have chemistry but they mean sexual chemistry. That we might kiss and there won’t be any spark but what if that kind of spark isn’t in my kit?

My mom is scared she’ll never have grandchildren, more specifically grandchildren that are mine. My other mother is scared I’ll realize (on my upcoming trip) that my partner and I won’t have a connection. How do I make them understand that I don’t even know if I want kids and that the girl I love knows I’m ace and she loves me anyway.

I can’t muster up the courage to tell either of them that sex isn’t even in the equation; let alone the handbook I’m running with, my handbook. Broaching the topic with them, despite it being none of their business; ends with me being called inexperienced, afraid or slow shakes of the head coupled with looks of disappointment.

I’ll tell you what, I am afraid.

I’m terrified that my parents (All of whom fully accept and support my coming out as bi) won’t accept my title as biromantic. That they’ll think I’ve made up some non qualifying term for myself. That they won’t believe me, that they’ll tell me that biromantic isn’t a valid identity.

And hell yes, I am inexperienced.

Inexperienced in a subject I have absolutely no interest in. A subject I’m completely revolted by in practice; why would I want someone’s dick in my vagina or literally any other sexual experience when

A) If I practiced enough I could do that shit myself when ever I wanted and

B) At that point I could do a better job of it so why would I need someone else to spend that time with if it’s so god damn great?

How do I tell them that the more I solidify about my identity the less I want to talk with them about myself. About how I felt broken whenever they talked about this “amazing” experience and how sometimes I still do. How do I tell them that I’m not missing out on something I never want to go through, without hearing “come back and talk to me when you’ve tried it.”

Like sex is some sort of video game side quest that I wasn’t leveled high enough to even comprehend. IF IT’S PRESENTED LIKE A SLOPPY SIDE QUEST IMMA TREAT THAT SHIT LIKE A SLOPPY SIDE QUEST AND MOVE ON WITH MY LIFE.

This experience isn’t gonna complete me like some gift of the gods, how do I tell them that I don’t need sex to live a happy life? I’m terrified they’ll think I was abused, mistreated or that they’ll view me as broken. That my siblings who look to me for guidance, look to me as a role model might shun me for what my parents think aloud when I’m not around.

Because a large portion of my life is up in the air right now I’m worried that not being 100% certain about who I am, will just be one more thing on the list that “I’m just too young to really know about.”

HOW- HOW can I be expected to know at ANY given point firmly, completely 100% that this is it? That this, in my morphing ever IMPROVING definition of myself is as good as it’s gonna get; when I’ve been taught so much to the contrary and had to SELF EDUCATE not because I wanted to learn (at first) but because everyone else needed to know!

The best answer I had was to sputter something passable, laughable in hopes of avoiding the conversation another day. Because the never ending ‘why’ wanted to know and I feel like I owe them an explanation for being different.

Now how do I tell them that their little girl grew into a brilliant woman who doesn’t have the slightest desire to have “her own children”.

Who doesn’t want sex out of ANY relationship but didn’t realize that until she had two ex-boyfriends was labeled “commitment issues”.

Who never had any “real friends” so she looked to the internet and found five of amazing people that supported her and if they didn’t understand at least made an effort to try.

Who became friends and then fell in love with a shy girl from England with a beautiful smile, killer intellect and untamable hair.

How do I tell them, I’ve had that conversation with my partner to varying degrees and together we explored my identity because I was terrified to do it alone. I was so ready to sit in silence the majority of my life rather than rock the boat.

While we’re still sorting things out, she’s more supportive than they’ll ever be. I want to tell them more about us, I want them to be interested in her because she’s amazing and I want to gush about her because SHE FUCKING DESERVES TO BE TALKED ABOUT.

I know my family, we overshare. We get into the nitty-gritty but, that’s always where the conversation ends up. Don’t get me wrong I make dick jokes with the best of them. At they end of the day they all fall under the same category: joke. I just want to feel comfortable doing that again but not at the same time I’m being grilled about my sex life.

Now I feel like I can’t even fully do that. My Articly chill self bubbles into volcanic anxiety whenever the topic crops up. With one side of the family it’s a reoccurring theme; to a degree I’m thankful because they’ve taught me the basics of safe sex, diseases and other red flags in an otherwise non Sex Ed friendly world.

The other half of the spectrum is filled with misinformation and our family’s innate ability to make a joke of every topic we don’t fully understand. I don’t know what to say so that my identity doesn’t become a joke to you.

How in the world do I cope if my greatest fears come to life and they don’t understand?

I would love them of course, that would never change.

But what if they did?

What if one day they understood; that’s the day I’m waiting for folks. Everyday I make progress with them. Every time I push a little harder at the topic.

A little more stubbornness when we debate the differences of asexuality and celibacy.

A little more reassurance when they say “I could have phrased that differently.”

A hard stance when we all start talking about gender identity and the LGBTQ+ community

This is the hill I die on because one day my siblings might find themselves standing here and I won’t let them stand alone.

Because one day they’ll understand. One day they’ll ask about me and I’ll feel so comfortable again, I’ll tell them. Biromantic. I am Biromantic and proud.

#Biromantic #Ace #Acefolks #There is hope #Light at the end of the tunnel #We can do this #I can do this #What a heckin rant #Rant #Personal rant #Confidence #asexual #The hill I die on #god I need some dog pictures now #Dog pictures and actual dogs

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