#{ *damn* he got even a little emotional he's so in love with that gift xD }

[mcltiples]

@countlessrealities sent; Rick's eyes travelled around the room for the umpteenth time, taking in the surroundings and the decorations. They had already spent an hour there, indulging in his partner's desire to dance, no matter how not skilled at it the two of them had turned out to be.

Still, he would have lied it he had said that he hadn't enjoyed it. And how could have he not, when his alternate had gone to such lengths just to create the setting for an intimate time for them?

Returning his gaze on the man seated next to him, he sat down the glass of champagne he had been sipping. His partner had gone all out with food and drinks too, picking the fanciest he could find.

"I-I have something for your too, Rick," he spoke up without preambles. "It's not as grandiose as your gift, but I still hope that it will convey my devotion to you."

As he spoke, he slipped a hand in the pocket of his lab coat, pulling out a small ring box, wrapped in a purple ribbon. Inside, however, instead of a ring, then was a necklace, made of a silver chain and with a heart shaped locket as a pendant. The surface of the locket was decorated with a thin pattern shaping a galaxy, but the most unusual part was what was inside it.

The side of the locket that would usually be occupied by a picture was instead covered by a glass dome that reproduced its shape exactly. Inside it, a piece of what looked like raw, fibrous meat with a small pool of blood filling the tip of the heart.

"H-Hearts are the universal symbol of romantic commitment. It seemed appropriate to let you know that you will always have mine," he explained, taking one of his partner's hands and pressing it to his chest. Yet another symbolic gesture he had studied. "I-I injected it with a special compound, so it won't rot or dry, no matter how many years pass."

[[ From Evil Rick to Weird Rick || I should have known that he would have managed to turn something that's supposed to be cute into something morbid xD but damn, I wasn't expecting him to cut out a piece of his literal heart omg ]]

Who knew that dancing would leave one so dizzy? Especially doing so with someone so special. The very person that Rick loved to the very core of his being. Enough that he went all out just for that man. To show exactly what he'd do to proof it all. And to do so without any hesitations.

If he were being honest, he wasn't expecting anything in return. Perhaps a kiss or the new ways of intimacy that they both started to do for each other. Such as a hug, cuddling, and maybe even a few kisses.

Anything but a gift.

The entire time, he stayed silent to give room for his partner to explain the details. Only carefully taking the box and examining the piece of jewelry. His eyes fixated on what held inside of it. It piqued his interest and he didn't need much more than that subtle explanation to guess what it was.

When he felt his hand placed right over the other's chest, his lips curled into a fond smile. "And I'll keep it with me forever, darling," He leaned closer, lips brushed against the ones before him in a feather-like kiss. "Thank you for this, I'm going to wear it for all of eternity."

And he would mean that with his whole heart. There wouldn't be anything to stop him. Not even potential death in the far, far future.

With another lean in, he captured those lips into a simple kiss with a subtle heat beneath it. Something that could convey just how moved he was by the gift.

#countlessrealities #{ answers. ✦ } #{ ic ; 🛸 prime/weird rick } #{ ᵂ⁺ᴱ ||🛸 ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴡꜰᴜʟ ᴇᴅɢᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʙᴇɢɪɴ } #{ main verse 🛸 'ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴ' } #gore tw #{ i was expecting Weird Rick to get a little sappy here but xD } #{ *damn* he got even a little emotional he's so in love with that gift xD } #{ even if it's the creepiest thing ever he's acting as if he just got proposed to fdshjkfds }

[the-kings-tail-fin]

Strip is such a comfort character XD he seems like someone who just doesn't want to bother to do anything anymore, which I dont particularly blame considering what a tiring life he's had and just want some dang rest, but does he ever react like getting really scared and jumpy like any normal person (or car lmaoo) or get visibly excited? The biggest reactions I've seen from him is just widening his eyes or angry, what exactly is his mindset?

SUCH a comfort character, ugh I just love him so much. <3333

I think his lack of notable reaction to most things we get to see in the movies is just due to his experience. He's been there, done that, a million times. It's not so much that he doesn't care to do anything anymore - he's still highly competitive and outwardly involved in the sport, even in Cars 3 as a crew chief - he's just seen it all at that point and there are no new surprises, annoyances, and so on in the Piston Cup world. (Noteworthy moment - when Lightning and Cruz jointly win the Florida 500 at the end of Cars 3, he's definitely surprised - he's not seen that before.)

He clearly cares enough to approach Lightning after the 2006 Dinoco 400 and give him some much-needed advice, even if it's all in vain at the time. If this kid is the future of the sport, it's worth a shot. But even there, he's very level-headed and aside from the slight "listen here you idiot" tone he starts out with (direct insult and all), is still friendly and good-willed towards his competitor.

I would imagine that at the track, his second most frequently experienced (and expressed) emotion is frustration. See exhibit A, a split second before Chick sends him to his near-death experience in LA. I would imagine this sort of frustration, while he knows how to deal with it, continued to surface when Cal came on the scene and Strip had little to no control over similar things that happened to his nephew on the track. He's not above saying a few choice words when the occasion calls for it. (I'm still waiting for my Piston Cup Radioactive, @whipplefilter - I will wait forever if I have to.)

He does get excited, say, when Cal's a few laps away from getting a win. When anything could go wrong and each lap lasts an eternity. Internally, he's even more excited than when he was racing and winning. But he's also got a great poker face, and won't show anything at all under the checkers have waved. To do anything before then would jinx their luck. But after? There's no reason to hide his excitement and how proud he is of Cal. He damn near fell off the pit box when Cal got his first win.

But, most of the time, his default mindset is best described as mellow and content. He's had the best sort of life and career a racecar could have, and getting to continue that in various ways is a true gift he's not taking for granted. Sure, there's frustration when his racer gets a DNF. There's excitement and happiness when Team Dinoco gets a win. But on a typical race weekend it's usually "we did our best, we're moving on to next week" and letting it go. Because life is much bigger than any one moment.

#strip weathers

[alirhi]

okay. let's do this shit.

Guess what, bitches? Mama bear's back and angry all over again. Remember when I said I might dive into a ragepost about how Bucky's treated after completing the one about Loki? This is it. This is the post. Welcome to fucking Thunderdome.

I will actually try to keep it civil. No promises, but I'll try. and I will not be accepting "constructive criticism" about my rage. Just so we're clear.

Got it? Good. Let's dive in.

In case you don't want to read the whole thing (I know I get wordy) here's what this whole post will boil down to: BUCKY NEVER HAD A FUCKING CHOICE. NEVER. NOT ONCE IN HIS ENTIRE ADULT LIFE.

Now, quick reminder: I don't read comics. I know nothing about Bucky's comic canon, except what Sebastian liked to bring up as often as possible during TWS/CW promotions: at some point, Bucky boned Nat. XD Since Bucky only exists as a Marvel property, I won't be bitching about other source material being disrespected like I did with Loki. This is all MCU, my dudes. And honestly? That's enough, because though we don't see nearly enough of Bucky for my liking, we do manage to get a rich, deep backstory to him in the material we're given, partly thanks to better writing in the early days of the MCU, and partly thanks to Sebastian Stan's phenomenal acting. Unlike the writers of the Loki series, Seb knows how to show, not tell. And gods, what stories those eyes show...

Let's start with the army. In an old post illustrating what an absolute BAMF Bucky Barnes truly is, I mistakenly said he enlisted, and a kind soul educated me on the incredible attention to detail Marvel used to pay - in this case, Bucky's ID number. 32557038. As this kind, eagle-eyed soul pointed out to me, the first two digits of that number - 32 - signify that Bucky was drafted, specifically from the NY, NJ, DE area (that last part is rather obvious, as Bucky and Steve are from Brooklyn lol). Bucky didn't choose to go to war. He was drafted. He was forced to fight, or go to prison.

Bucky was born in 1917, which means - again, as someone pointed out to me a while back - he came of age during the Great Depression. As a child, he would likely have seen his parents living comfortably and able to shower each other and him and his sister with gifts and fun memories, and then POOF. Stock market crashes when he's only 12-years-old, and life becomes brutal and painful. He manages to have some fun with his best friend Steve, and spends his teens/early 20s chasing girls and keeping his stupid, stubborn, tiny friend from getting beaten to death.

Steve constantly has something to prove. He's absolutely got what my mom always called "little man's disease", and Bucky's just doing his best not to roll his eyes too much at this asthmatic chihuahua constantly trying to beat up Tibetan mastiffs. While Steve keeps lying on his enlistment forms (an actual crime) trying again and again to get into the army and prove what a badass he is (definitely not), Bucky's had enough trauma and upheaval in his life and he just wants his stupid friend to calm tf down and live. Enjoy the fact that he doesn't have to go to war and get his limbs blown off.

And then he gets fucking drafted. This sweet, resigned realist who knows exactly how dangerous the war really is, is forced to put on a uniform and go fight strangers alongside other strangers thousands of miles from everything he knows. And on his last night of freedom, when he just wants to hang out with his friend, see some cool gadgets, and dance with a pretty girl, his stupid angry chihuahua friend feels the need to lie and try to enlist again.

Okay. Gotta get back on track. Ragepost about mistreatment of Bucky, not how much Steve annoys me. Sorry. Anyway...

Bucky's drafted, accepts his shitty lot with a brave smile, and is shipped off to Europe, where he is captured by HYDRA and presumed by the Allies to be KIA. Instead, he's strapped down, tortured, and given the HYDRA version of the super serum against his will. Steve rescues him, and Bucky knows he can't leave his idiot friend to his own devices to get his head blown off, so he dives right back into the fray. And then he falls off a cliff, loses most of his left arm, and is declared dead...again. This one's pretty damn valid, though lol. Without the serum no one knew he'd been shot up with, there is no way he would have survived that fall.

Here is where Bucky's story gets truly heartbreaking: His autonomy, his ability to consent is stripped from him through electroshock torture/brainwashing. The trigger words are conditioned into him during this process, and boom. Ten words in Russian, and Bucky Barnes is gone. Even the confused, hurting shadow of him is gone, leaving only a perfectly obedient killing machine, with Bucky's pretty face. He's strong as all hell, though, so they can't keep him fully under their control for long, not without more torture, when the disorientation of being fucking frozen wears off on longer missions.

I cannot stress this point enough, guys: Bucky. Had. No. Choice. Not like the draft, where his choices (go and get shot at, refuse and go to jail, or dodge and run to Canada) just suck. No, he literally didn't have a choice. He had his ability to choose stripped from him. If that's too complex a concept to really sink in, try this: His brain was fucking raped. Repeatedly. For decades. Nothing the Winter Soldier ever did was Bucky's fault. Nothing. Ever. Not remotely, no matter how you fucking slice it. Bucky is not an assassin. I almost said "not a killer", but he was a soldier, and a sharpshooter. He definitely killed when he was himself, but that was in a war, not a series of assassinations.

So far, imo, so good. This is just a rundown of Bucky's pre-show backstory. I don't love what he had to suffer, but I do love how it was treated in the movies. People were afraid of him, but when they knew the whole situation, Steve, Nat, and Sam rallied behind him. Natasha had plenty of reason to want the Winter Soldier dead; he'd tried to kill her multiple times and almost succeeded. Sam had no reason to help Bucky at all; he didn't know him, didn't trust him, and again, TWS had tried to kill him. But he stood by Steve, and when Bucky showed the clear difference between himself and TWS, Sam stood by him, too, and fought alongside him.

And it's very realistic, imo, that Tony didn't give a single fuck that Bucky had no choice. He watched this man murder both of his parents on tape. If TWS had killed my dad and I saw proof of it, I'd try to kill Bucky, too. Grief wins out over logic. Most emotions usually do. And that's a very important point we're going to come back to in a few minutes.

Bucky was really only in like ten minutes at most of IW and Endgame, and for multiple reasons I hate those movies, so I'm just gonna skip them, kay? Kay. On to the main event!

Here's where I get pissed off. Even if I didn't have an unhealthy attachment to this character, or the depth of appreciation for his tragic backstory that I do, the lack of continuity between the movies and the show alone would still piss me off. It always does. Don't even get me started on Joss "Continuity? What continuity?" Whedon and his (iconic, but flawed) shows. Ahem. Back on track...

Let me just get one little thing out of the way real quick: I fucking LOVE The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I love it. This show amazed me when I first watched it, and I still love it after many more viewings lol. I have only ever watched it all the way through without skipping over as much John Walker shit as possible the one time lol but I love how Sam and Bucky interact, and I fucking adore how Sam's arc was treated. I just wish they'd show the same care and attention to Bucky.

Because what they did to Bucky in this show is a fucking travesty. There was a tiny ray of hope in the pilot, when he called out Dr. Bitchface for being a terrible shrink. I thought that would be the start of him realizing he needed to find someone else and ignore the damaging shit that woman was telling him. But...nope. No such luck.

The show really had a strong start, I'll give it that. We see Bucky having nightmares of his time as TWS and struggling to hide how his traumatic memories are affecting him as he tries to live in the world again. He befriends the father of one of HYDRA's victims, which can't be good for Bucky (and we're shown it's definitely not when he sees the shrine in Yori's home to his late son) but it's sweet, how he's trying to connect and reach out to someone who's hurting and lonely.

They drop the ball a little with the whole... Bucky can hack a fucking car, but can't figure out Tinder thing. Had they just run with the fandom interpretation of the tiger photos line, that it shows that Bucky is bi and left it at that, I'd have been okay with it (and no, that is not because I ship Sam/Bucky. it's because Bucky is and always has been a certified nerd who loves technology and has consistently shown very little issue learning to use new gadgets). The outdated flip phone he handed his terrible court-mandated shrink was a burner; I liked that theory when I read it, especially since it's the only time we see him even holding a phone that old lol. This all could have fit the "Bucky is a sassy bisexual nerd" narrative and it'd be okay. Instead, the director was like "NOOOOOO that line was just to show how old he is and how he can't figure out all this newfangled technology!" Woman, you had him remotely driving someone else's vehicle with a tablet. That is NOT a man who can't figure out a damn smart phone!

But that's just a minor annoyance. What fills me with absolute rage is how everyone - not just the shitty therapist who lashes out at and purposely triggers her traumatized patients, but EVERYONE - Sam, Zemo, people who should fucking know better ALL treat him like he's a psychopath and a ticking time bomb. Like he chose to take the serum and he chose to kill for HYDRA, and he's just seen the error of his ways. *barf*

Bucky in the movies is established to be a victim, through and through. His guilt over what he was forced to do is natural, and that he sees himself as a monster makes sense... but that doesn't mean it's correct. The one and only thing I ever liked about Steve Rogers is at least he got it. He pointed out that none of it was Bucky's fault, he tried to show him that he was worth saving. That's the other reason I refuse to talk about Endgame. This post will get a WHOLE LOT LONGER and a lot fucking angrier if I open that door.

Zemo supposedly knows everything about HYDRA and super soldiers... So why does he treat Bucky like he's a corrupt serial killer? (this, for the record, is why I don't like Zemo) Why does he never point out that Bucky was given the serum against his will, or that his actions, when he had control of them, proved that he was never corrupted? Bucky never wanted to become superhuman. Bucky didn't even want to fucking fight!

Sam, despite constantly resisting the label, is shown very clearly to be Bucky's friend. By episode 3, he cares. He worries about how Bucky is getting lumped in with the other super soldiers in Zemo's speech... But he never really defends him. He says "what about Bucky?" but he doesn't point out that Bucky's a good man, he's fought so hard to help people, he does everything he can to avoid killing... And that fucking speech in episode 5. I was with him on "you gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." I was like "YEAH! Tell him, Sam! Bucky, you're WORTH SAVING, boo! Your value does not hinge on someone else's opinion of you!" And then... Sam dropped the ball.

He not only continued the disturbing pattern of victim-blaming in this show, and in Marvel/Disney properties in general, but he gave really dangerously bad advice! No one in their right mind, mental health professional or no, would EVER tell a traumatized former assassin (whether he was responsible for his actions or not) to go confront his victims' families out of the blue with no warning and no one to mediate and keep things from going to shit. Yori already knew his son had been murdered because he was in the "wrong place, wrong time." How is it being "of service" to tell him you're the one who killed him?! Remember how I said Tony's reaction to learning the full truth about his parents' deaths was valid and would be an important point later? Hi! Welcome to later. THAT is the natural reaction to facing the man who murdered your loved one(s). And even if Yori didn't get angry and lash out, HOW IS IT "HELPING" HIM OR BRINGING HIM "CLOSURE" TO KNOW THAT HIS FRIEND KILLED HIS FUCKING SON?!?!?! This man befriended him, bonded with him, watched him grieve... And now he's learning this is the man who caused all his pain and heartache to begin with? That is so toxic and psycho I just... I can't even... UGH.

And then there's the equally toxic and damaging "deeply traumatized person just needed a stern talking to and a hug to be ALL BETTER AGAIN" ending. I loved seeing Bucky happy and socializing, but it was too soon, and it was unearned. And it sends a fucking awful message to people actually struggling with PTSD, and to their loved ones who don't know how to help them. Heaping more blame on them and then hugging it out is NOT helpful!

This show could have been damn near perfect with just two changes. That's all. Just two. 1) Someone, anyone, bringing up the reasons why Bucky was never a villain in his presence. Someone being in his corner and reminding him, like Steve did, that it wasn't his fault and he's not going to "snap". 2) More time devoted to Bucky's healing. Actual fucking healing, not the shit they tried to pass off as a magic fix-all. He can have his happy barbecue moment, just don't frame it as "everything's great now!" Healing isn't linear, and there will be both good days and bad. Some of the most fragile people in the world have the brightest smiles.

If we get a season 2, which this amazing show absolutely deserves, and they address this stuff, all will be forgiven in my book. Expanding on his story and his journey toward healing will help to reframe that "happily ever after" garbage as something more realistic. But as it stands now... Fuck Marvel.

#fan rant #ragepost #long post #bucky barnes #mcu #captain america #the first avenger #the winter soldier #civil war #tfatws #mcu spoilers #stop victim blaming #victim not villain #never a fucking villain #bucky deserved better #fuck marvel #fuck disney

[akampana]

Hello, i was rewatching Berserkerlot scene from Eizbern consultation room (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ)

And...well, i got really emotional despite the satirical context.

I do not know the specific numbers, but could we have some SaberLot marriage hc?

OH MY GOD i love that episode. Damn I always quote that cause I'm really really sad that they never follow up on the fact that LANCELOT LOVED HIS KING MORE i mean that's HUGE why did they never pick that up?!?!?!? Not even a single freaking reference when the fact he loved her may have been a contribution to his madness ugh *slams fist on desk*

Even if they made him a dad in fgo and stuff they could have totally squeezed that in somewhere???

Erm. Okay, rant over.

Domestic Life 2 What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

After the proposal, they get right to work preparing for the wedding. Their trusted friends from the Table all pitch in to help.

Arturia brought little Galahad along while she looked for a dress and ended up settling for a flowy a-line dress with a deep v going down the back, which Galahad insisted she buy. The lace is floral, so she picked out a flower crown with lilacs to hold up a short veil.

Mash went with her dad to get his tux, and with the guidance of Lance's rather artsy foster mom, they picked out a lovely powder light purple for his suit and a bowtie that matched Arturia's flower crown (which Vivian had seen). His mom was actually surprised Lance was still willing to marry, considering his past, but she'd seen how he acted with Arturia and how his children loved her as well.

Plus, when she saw Lancelot in the suit, it felt just right.

They chose a small lakeside place for the location, and set up the reception outside. There was a chapel by the water that was specifically there for weddings.

Lancelot's two children did great, marching down the aisle proudly as flower-girl and ringbearer respectively. They were such sweethearts throughout the whole thing, even if Mash dozed through the priest's lengthy speech.

Lance cried when Arturia walked down the aisle, escorted by her brother, because he couldn't believe he still had this chance at a married life, and that she was the one to give it to him. But despite having to bite back a hiccup, he delivered his vows so clearly, it was like a declaration to the heavens.

He was smiling when they kissed, locking his arms around her so tightly like he didn't want to let go.

Vivian would stay with the kids in another cabin that night, to give the newlyweds some privacy. During the reception, however, right before the two were to be brought to bed, Arturia knelt down in her gown to show the two her own gift to them.

It was a gift Mash was a little too young to understand, but one that Galahad was brought to tears over: Legal adoption papers.

"I would be honored to be your mother, if you let me," she told him, but before she could even finish, the boy was pressing himself to her chest, hugging her as tight as he could. He whispered a quiet thank you, looked up to nod at his dad, then finally let go. Lancelot could not be more proud.

oh and here's a little more for you, anon cause lancetoria is top tier :)

Thank you for the ask! xD

#akampana asks #-ship questions #seriously tho my feelings for her and lancelot attack me so often #lancelot du lac #lancelot #arturia pendragon #arturia #artoria #saber #saberlot #lanceturia #lancetoria #fate #fate zero #modern au #fgo #fate grand order #pls tell me that worked hahah

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 15)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8)

CHAPTER 14 (Link)

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Mornings with Geralt especially after a night full of bliss can keep your face burning hot from the discernment that he'd finally bed you. He was insatiable and also salty from dodging his subtle gestures---which can be quite entertaining to experience and also upsetting when it took him three days of keeping his distance. But, the witcher made up his absence by giving a gift that surely warmed your heart.

Warnings: Mention of Bucky, X-men and the Avengers. (Weird, I know. HAHA!) Suggestive content. Cheeky Geralt. Nudity. Salty Geralt. (LMAO XD) Shy reader. Kinda sweet Geralt? There's floof in this! Geralt unfamiliar with the feeling of holding hands. Heehee! Mention of bulge, nipples and punani? Also, a cunning reader. HA!

Words: 8.9k (It's a lot. I know. Sorry. The next chapter is actually smut again. Damn. It's also 10k words. I AM UTTERLY SHOOKTH. XD)

A/N: Chapter 15.1 will be smut. No plot shift for the rest 2-3 chapters. (Just relationship development for the reader and our white wolf) Let's just be happy with these type of chapters before I drop bombs, bb's! Also, let's just appreciate that Geralt is feeling happy (still being how he is tho) before shit goes down again and he's all brooding. XD Geralt deserves this! XD I don’t want the characters to just revolve around the idea and pleasure of lust because I know it is more than that. 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi (GIF credits: witches-ground, white-wolf-of-rivia, demivampirew)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

ONE HABIT OF YOURS THAT YOU WERE USED TO DOING IN THE MORNING IS TO STRETCH ALL THOSE KNOTS THAT HAPPENED TO BE ACHING WHILE YOU'VE SLEPT LIKE A BABY. The ravens that tweeted on the window side never seem to wake you up, but your body clock did.

No blinding sunlight has woken you up from your slumber this time. A lazy whine gurgled at the back of your throat; shifting on your side of the bed as you've turned sideways to sluggishly haul your arm on an expected empty space to surprisingly feel solid, chiseled, warm, valley of muscles that laid upon your palms.

You've swallowed your saliva, your throat feeling scratchy and drier than usual. A subtle clearing of your throat as you narrowed your eyes to presume that the white wolf was already out and about before you even were.

Well-knit arms and sturdy shoulders that were precisely sized like your thighs, crinite chest that you somehow managed to goggle once your half-lidded eyes blinked to straighten the blurry gaze of yours, eyesight now sharp as a cheetah. Perspective concentrated on the beefy man who had his blankets treacherously meeting the ends of his torso, mantling the parts he needed to cover for the sake of your stability.

You didn't even know your palms were already caressing Geralt's prominent abs when you've raked his body at a snail's time. Glowing, soft and amused amber eyes already focusing on your groggy state of mind.

"Good morning," the scarred hunk of a man huskily greeted, his timbre lacing with an unused pliant tone that certainly left your thoughts unprocessed as your hand cease its freedom from feeling his abs brushing beneath your fingers.

You've taken a dry gulp, impulsively carrying your weight with the help of your elbow, gaping at the witcher who had a stoic face but with unfathomable emotions filled within his eyes.

"I wasn't fondling with your abs, I swear! I was...caring and caressing your scars!" an arm was raised, like you've been caught by the police for creating a crime. The other supporting your weight against the mattress as Geralt seemed to be in a sustained position. Back wholly laying down with his face turned to your looming ones as he rested below you.

He sluggishly blinked, eyes slightly seeing something more worth to admire at as he looked down on your wonderful unclad chest before cocking a brow to skeptically admit with his eyes now focused on you, "That...didn't felt like there were any scars on that part,"

You could tell his mind was preoccupied as he licked his lips, taking a glance of what he was been looking at when you've seen breasts out in the open that made you emit a tiny shriek which got the witcher grinning a little. The blankets on you were hurriedly raised till your chest was covered; though, it probably had no use already from how you've seen the hickeys that were left all around you chest; convincing you that having a nipple slip wasn't the only thing uncouth.

A mortified look on your face had Geralt entertained first thing in the morning. A weird expression you pull whenever you're in the midst of feeling petrified for every new stuff that you experience in their world; never having to experience it back in your earth.

For all one knows, you were probably a reserved child or simply a staid that you haven't gotten a real man throughout your lifetime.

Geralt kept his mouth shut; as he always does and waited for you to vent and clear out your horrified burst of emotions. He knew you would calm down a little after saying what you needed to honestly tell, and so; he silently listened.

"Please tell me you've taken my clothes off because I needed a bath and because of whatever I was feeling last night---because, because---I'm so freaking redundant, I apologize--- Also, I gotta' say and ask you an intriguing question that you surely don't mind based on how you are lacking clothes right now---but, are you NAKED UNDER THE COVERS, Geralt?"

You couldn't believe you've taken drastic measures last night.

Face began to twist in embarrassment, it was like the morning wanted you to take the recording device and press the playback button. The horrible thread of wanton moans and utterances in the middle of being riled chimed in your head like your dignity was laughing at how you promised never to give in to the witcher because he was a fuck boy in their dimension.

Who's cackling now?

Right. Your strength of character was, because you didn't seem to be quite strong for lewdly moaning out his name like a prayer in the middle of the night. Those raunchy ugh's and oh's will continue to haunt you down.

Geralt's expressions seemed to be unreadable still, until you've seen his lips pucker a little, slightly tilting his head as he tried to sit up, "I'm taking the blankets off."

You tried to stop him and held onto his shoulders, softly clawing at the back of his disheveled, chalky white hair as the touch wasn't making you feel any discomfort for the first time; would you even feel uncomfortable after being bonked all night? you probably hugged him when he had rode you off to wonderland for a couple of times already.

"Wait---no!"

His unkempt head fell on his pillow with a soft thud, vaguely turning his head till you were within an ace of breathing each other's oxygen.

The witcher kept still and hushed. His gaze falling on your semi-dry lips as he quietly listened to all your questions; ceasing from saying anything less than his breathing, "It happened, didn't it?" he became more blasè when you've thrown your queries at him in a hurried pace, not giving him a chance to answer, "---I didn't have a wet dream or something?"

As more as you talk, letting the panic rise to your head because of the shame you felt that maybe he would feel used after being so in need for such a passionate impaling; the sex being done out of help or because there was no other choice for the pain to stop, those sly fidgety fingers of yours topped off his thatch of hair that laid upon his chest, tracing the notch of his medallion as you heard him lowly hum in delight.

Geralt only answered you with a lazy blink of his eyes, heedful of your fingers mindlessly caressing his skin because you were anxiety-filled as of the moment. He let you, always will; with eyebrows tightly furrowed together as he was trying to retain the image of your sweet, seraph face, scruffy hair and painted skin that was filled by witcher bites.

You pouted. Your lightly swollen, grouchy morning face go on about how your core felt sore from how it has been penetrated hours after hours end, "I'm sore. You sure I didn't just got prank by Jaskier and somehow stupidly sat on a pole that stabbed my reproductive organ?"

The sexy, hot, and stark naked white wolf subtly shook his head, his palm retracting from behind his head as he moved his thick arm, slipping beneath the white covers. Determined for his listless touches; strong fingers gliding behind to rest his palm against the small of your back.

His touchy-feely gestures made you swallow the collywobbles, rapidly blinking back as you hardly believed he was actually touching you back. Far as you remembered, when you hugged him while his hair was being braided, Geralt went stiff and still, never knowing what to do with your sudden, impulsive actions.

Your words stumbled after each other, slightly stuttering at the perfervid gaze he opted to give out of his wits, "Great! No...no more sacrifices of virgin women to witches now?"

Geralt was still voiceless as he remained speechless. Your image in the morning placing him in a trance. You awkwardly cleared your dry throat, wincing because of how stupefied he appeared to be. Your hand quickly came to cover your mouth, stifling the embarrassment because of how he seemed to be blown away by particular things you didn't know about. One of your guesses was that he was dumbfounded by your morning breath, "Oh, my morning breath. Explains why you're not talking, Rivia."

You've warily stuck your head in between the crook of Geralt's neck and clavicle after being forthright. The touch of your skin against his knocking him out of his reverie as he tried to turn his head to see your face, but failed to do so; your face thoroughly hidden in his peripheral vision.

"No. That's never happening." he hoarsely murmured; answering your 'sacrificing a virgin' question. His timbre awfully deeper and rougher than most of the time. This was his morning voice then, and you were sure your heart began to wildly flutter because of his fingers behind the small of your back; absentmindedly brushing his calloused palms against your delicate skin.

You mumbled against his shoulder, speaking tone more sotto voce and inaudible. But, the white wolf heard everything. Your tone turning pocket-sized because of how scandalous the question have been.

"I'm not a virgin anymore then?"

He granted your question with an affirmative hum, his answer felt like you were tickled under your palm as you were still being a scatterbrain.

"We'd really...?" you trailed off dubiously. The train of thought left like a scattered path that had an arrow as to what you really wanted to mean. You've felt his chest exhale a sigh before he lowly spoke and frankly continued the sentence for you, "Bed you?" the witcher grouched like he wanted to scoff from how beyond belief you sounded, "---Yes, midget. I did. We did."

Geralt felt your shoulders shaking, your mouth exhaling stifled, mirthful giggles as your face went flushed from the reality of your virginity being taken by the witcher.

A dashing mutated human who came from a different world. He was like a character that existed in a game or movie. The type of television series that you would love to watch despite of having many seasons for it based on how interesting his world have been. Less frightening through a gadget rather than experiencing it in real life though.

Your first experience with sex and it had to thankfully be with Geralt of Rivia.

"Oh..Ohohoho," you expressed your faint simpers, feeling Geralt's fingers turned still as he waited for you to continue like he always does, "---You're not serious."

He sensed the slight snigger in your tone, the disbelief somewhat dripping in strong because of the thought. Though, there was also a bit of worry to it because you were probably agitated of what would happen after this; like it was just the start of something bigger and you knew it wasn't just the girth that has piped you in like a broken faucet which is needed to be fixed all night.

"Geralt of...Mmmhia and me," you mused before feeling his fingers brush up your sides; the butterflies in your stomach tickling your insides making you partly squirm from his touch. Your body oblivious of the modest shiver of your body that has automatically responded to the witcher's touches.

A pair of soft, pillowy lips rested upon your shoulder, pecking your silky skin that somehow had a purplish bite and the witcher tried soothing it with a kiss.

"It happened. Even more than once."

You've tried hard to suppress your exhilaration from how the witcher has been acting. Staying in bed with you, saying good morning and most of all, boldly kissing you or in every parts of your body whenever you're together. It was an obvious notification that he was a lot more brazen with you alone, by preference; Geralt appeared to be like a person who lets his walls down when you're the only person he's with.

A deep, baritone chuckle was heard after your toned down squealing. You swiftly lifted your head to meet the diablerie eyes of the white wolf, his mouth in a tight-thin line before winding his long fingers around your nape, pulling your face close until his lips met yours, his vermillion avid to give you a passionate one when he planned to only give you a soft peck that would make his gluttonous cravings contented.

Nevertheless, he knew it wouldn't based on how he wanted to rile you up again, all day. Just those naive, coy innocence of yours was enough reason to continue his corrupting.

You've held a hand on his chest when he tried to deepen the kiss, lifting himself up with an elbow while he continued to connect your lips to his; smoothly molding as one before you've felt his hoary hair frame your face, paving the way till you were laid flat upon your back; Geralt's heavy, muscular weight starting to crush you. His soft kisses that turned choleric had a hidden agenda when he tried placing you under him, and you knew what strategy he was playing.

Your warm palms stopped his ministrations with a hand on his bewhiskered, chiseled chest. The look in your eyes savvy for what he was planning for; feebly doing it so as you were puny with just one aflamed kiss from the witcher. His spirited kisses were cut-short, a coquettish look within those glowing amber eyes that gave you the tingles when you were trying to grasp how you've fantasized to have his weight crushing you as he laid on top; then now it wasn't just a fantasy of yours as it turned into a reality.

"We actually did the birds and the bees then, if you're that comfortable with kissing me, Geralt."

His features appeared to be like he couldn't-care-less, until such time his taciturn self had slipped a small smile or two making you raise a skeptical brow. Geralt tried to put his lips back to where it came from before you've tutted with frisk.

The latter deeply groaned to himself, cocking his head to the side when you've received an unusual balk from a man who rarely expresses himself. He dejectedly rolled off you, seeing him raise a skeptical brow. Geralt's cynicism catching you off guard like he was an adult who has never been given what he wanted.

"I had you all night," he claimed, sounding totally point-blank as he sat his ripped back against the wooden headboard. The covers just below his torso as a trail of trimmed hair was hiking down a path that had your fingers cursory signing the cross like you were being whispered by the devil on your shoulders.

He didn't seem to mind showing you his sculpted body that was carved by the gods, after screwing with him, he became pretty much as bold as brass unlike you who was still sheepish about your naked self hidden beneath the covers. Well, if you had a chiseled body like Geralt of Rivia; you wouldn't be shy of it at all.

Geralt's lips were slightly curled up in a sneer as he sat beside your laying, timid form. You shifted across the bed, rolling off to the other side till you weren't facing the goading, ghost-voiced witcher---who sounded so hot nevertheless---and you saucily concluded, "It was just...a wet dream of me being one horny woman. Not real."

You can sense that he wanted to scoff, feeling his eyes tickling your back because you knew he was still staring.

"You begged for it," he spoke as a matter of fact.

Oh, he's wanting a debate in this one. You thought in the back of your mind. Discomfited by the truth that was set free. Much to your chagrin, his frank discussion made you jump on the bed, sitting upright with the blankets covering your chest as you let out an incredulous gasp, feigning the whole act that you didn't know the veracity held within his facts.

His gaze was entirely pooling with mischief and a little bit of pride as well. He was close-lipped when his features began to endearingly soften, ushering your heart to turn mushy from how evocative his gaze held; tinting your face with a blush that certainly couldn't be seen through the naked eye.

"It--It was the scar's fault! You didn't need to be so blunt about it!---also stop looking at me like that!"

Your heart was on edge like it was standing on the ends of the cliff, waiting for the catapult to just be done with Geralt probably standing below you with open arms. You've given him a faltering glare that consists of ambivalent emotions soaring high.

You didn't know where to look, eyes shun away from the man. Briefly shifting from the windows behind him; lately realizing that his wide ranging built actually had him covering the sunlight for you as you slept. A hand clutched the blankets tightly in front of your chest while the other hand had you fidgeting over the disarranged bed covers; tapping and tapping till it ceased when you've felt Geralt's fingers grazing along your chin, turning to look him in the eye and you swore breakfast was already served before you even know it.

"That wasn't the issue when you've left me alone in my chambers---trying to upset me when you've braided my hair,"

He deeply mocked as you feigned another gasp. It galled you that he was accusing you that you've left him upset yesterday. He wasn't just the only one who was aggrieved from the whole situation.

"Excuse me---?! What are you actually trying to point out here? Now, you think of me like I'm some...some woman who planned this all along and--and---!!" your train of thought was cut off midway, forbearing what you wanted to say as the witcher raised a brow in understanding; knowing what you meant.

A promiscuous woman. Geralt never thought of you that way last night when you were caught in the heat of the moment especially experiencing the effects of the Cicatrix. He found it definitely onerous mostly that he also could feel what you felt; happiness, sadness, fear, anxiety, vexation and a lot more that could vary. Though, the witcher would know what you felt when the emotions were already clouding up your mind; filling them until it was the only thing that runs in your heart before sensing it.

The whole intuition about sensing each other's feelings still had no answer. Though, both of you knew it was also because of that bizarre mark that was carved in between your breast; knowing full well that the hunger you had for each other causes it at the same damn time.

Geralt's lips curled into a faint, kindly beam that had his eyes glowing in odd compassion.

"I don't. You're still my midget,"

You tightly blinked, words jumbled all together with a disbelieving stammer, "Your---midget? Yours?" and subtly pointing a finger at him as you were entirely gobsmacked from his sudden admission and roundabout claiming towards the whole midget thing.

Does this mean he was your witcher then?

He averted his beautiful cat-eyes away, lowly humming beneath his chest and fleetingly shut his peepers, the isolation of being with you overwhelming him a lot. The solitude of being alone as much as possible; away from people except for Jaskier and Cirilla sounded calming. But, when you came along; your happy-go-lucky and naivity of yours swept himself off his feet no matter how emotionless he appeared to be.

Your sweet, bashful and intriguing presence was beyond overwhelming to his withdrawn behavior.

After hearing a hum from the witcher himself, you've hardly scooted away---thinking better to have breakfast in bed, no kidding---but chose to be practical and avoid a slip of your flushing face, turning your bare back away from Geralt; feet falling flat on the wooden floors as you straightened your back, lazily stretching as you softly mewled---that got the witcher burning holes on your back and also feeling himself twitch under the covers because he heard it so well.

You've felt his thick, long, calloused fingers brush against the small of your back, gliding along like he was insinuating at something.

"Another?"

He actually didn't mean...that, right? you silently talked to yourself, clearing your throat, ceasing your actions; gaze fixated at Geralt's used black buttoned tunic that was tossed to the floor.

"What do you mean, another?!"

Your tiny squeaks echoed around his chambers, chary of what he was hinting at that made your eyeballs pop out of your eye sockets from how he still wanted sex after having at least just two hours of nap. You were blissfully spent last night, utterly drained and here he was, the witcher was wanting more.

Was this one of his perks in being mutated?

His fingers gave you a slight tickle, rough voice turning velvety like silk, trying to scrub that determined but utmost wobbly state of mind when it came to your witcher. Geralt's fingers brushed along your spine, languidly tracing till the periphery of your shoulder blades that emitted a breathless exhale of your breath from his mere touch, "When I told you I would indulge your curiosity all night long and days thereafter, I wasn't lying."

Your skin felt so supple and satiny; the way he coveted all night wasn't enough to keep him sated. Satisfied. No. If it was possible to have you in a week of constant ravishing; he would delightfully do so. But, no. You didn't have his stamina nor do you probably feel comfortable by the sensitive feeling you were experiencing as of this morning.

Yes, you were sore. Very. But, the soreness was worth it in your perspective.

You hastily grabbed onto the used tunic, slipping your arms over the huge shirt in which Geralt loved seeing on you but he definitely wouldn't admit, "Oh! As much as I remembered, you never wanted this coochie in the first place! Telling me it was the Djinn effects or some sort!"

"---Midget," you've began your mockery, parodying his baritone timbre like a loser, trying hard type and Geralt couldn't help but place you under his scrutiny, his succulent lips curling into an amused smile as he silently watched you make a fool out of yourself, "---I don't deserve it. I'm guessing it's the Djinn's work that is talking---who's the liar now, huh?"

The witcher exhaled a long sigh, drowsily blinking as he added nonchalantly, "A shame." he stifled the amusement in his tone as you turned to see him slightly imploring to persuade that dead set decision of yours. Your reactions were priceless, even so; he kept his bulge twitching in anticipation for another wave of bliss because every breath he hears surprisingly makes him go gaga over you.

"---Spare me five minutes."

You looked at him like he has grown three heads. Unblinking from his risquè intimations of having your fantasies ticked down. It only needed a 'yes' from you and breakfast will immediately be served right thing in the morning.

Geralt of Mmmhia licked his lips, gaze narrowed as he was seeing the unwavering look within your eyes.

"Ten." he bluntly proposed, stifling a chuckle that made you want to just throw yourself at the witcher but you were a strong woman---though, your eyes have been a huge traitor against the strong will; raking along Geralt's body maybe more than once to admire him in the flesh. Yet, also the tragic experiences that his scars held.

You would ask him about it someday; deciding that you wouldn't want to ruin this rare mood of his.

"Must it be half an hour?" skeptically, he mumbled and blurted out in the open with a hum that snapped you out of your reverie.

"A liar indeed. You don't just take five minutes. Your five minutes consists of six hours or more! Probably even days!" you shook your head knowingly, subtly pointing down below as you sheepishly batted your eyelashes back to the staring witcher who was intensely doing it; with you who was gesturing to what he wanted, "---You're not having this,"

With a simple wiggle of your fingers he knew you wouldn't budge, nor was the white wolf even serious. Geralt was just sending a jest or maybe it also held a little bit of real talk if you would allow him for his wishes.

He'd feast ones eyes as you slid your feet off the bed, with bewilderment in his golden peepers. He opened both palms on either side, gesturing with his hands in astonishment  from how you've curved him away, giving the morning bonking a miss. Geralt raked you from head to foot, having a thing about wearing his gigantic clothes that obviously didn't fit like a glove.

With the tousled hair, abnormally painted skin and body ache you were feeling, it was enough to get his agitating hunger firing up.

You heard him grouch as the bed squeaked, warning you that the witcher has stood up on his feet; unintentionally giving his exposed body a once over as the bare-assed witcher grabbed onto his leather pants, fumbling with the hem of it; looking out of the window as the sunshine hit his body in a staggering way. His derriere was phenomenal, the swell of his ass was remarkable; out of this world and you couldn't believe that he'd actually...finally...let you have him.

Pulling out an all nighter didn't kept your curiosity still; even then, you planned and wanted to have another soon when you weren't sore enough, if he'd let you.

"Yeah," he stated in point of fact, receiving a panicking yelp from you when he'd turn around; his disrobed nature never disturbing him despite with you in the room, a daring gesture that he certainly didn't mind if you would stare because you were free to do so. Your reaction got his lips curled into a small grin, the sun making your bruised skin glow in ways that got him complimenting his work of art.

"---Until that weird Cicatrix of yours starts giving effects, the domineering lady would waver,"

Alas, the cicatrix was not giving you effects. But, just seeing him standing buck naked; had your will shaking from the time out you opted to happen. It was probably a bad idea to even suggest a short suspension of the activities he wanted to receive.

Three days have passed. After your nightly penetrating with the witcher and the morning after when you've hushed his off-colored ideas, you didn't know he would be so salty about it.

Geralt was still Geralt; silent, unobtrusive and basking in his own solitude with his horse at all times. Regardless of his normal behavior for wanting to be alone, you understood that it was already a part of his personality that you've known since the day you've arrived.

When you meant that you wanted a timeout, three days wasn't what you tried to point out. The burning coil stirring and pooling below your stomach calmed down in some way or another when you've given in to the desires it wanted. Hence, after that carnal desires it controlled; it wanted another thing as well. Though, this time around; no Cicatrix was controlling you to feel this way.

You wanted Geralt's attention after spending most of his time with Roach rather than his midget.

He wasn't entirely avoiding you at all costs, pushing you off the side or something like that but his gestures were minimal especially with Jaskier and Cirilla hanging around. No hugs, no kisses or no touches when you both were surrounded with his family's presence especially that they had guesses about what happened that night.

Jaskier knew it all and heard what happened. With all the grunts and hushed moans in the middle of that particular night, he blamed himself for telling Geralt to just give in when he would've realized that his room was beside his. The constant whump of Geralt's headboard hitting the adjoined walls that he had with his made the bard grab all his pillows, deciding that it was better to sleep on the hallways instead.

Geralt's withdrawn behavior was a run-of-the-mill habits of him. You were beginning to ask yourself if it has ever been a dream; the nightly ravish and torrid kisses that has happened, but you were wrong because you've woken up one time in the middle of the night with the witcher behind you as you slept on his bed, feeling his burly arm surround your waist, and unexpectedly spooning you to sleep.

You knew it was him because you've jerked from his sudden touch; in the midst of a nightmare that got your heart palpitating as you turned in your sleep. He heard your troubled whimper, taking a peek from behind your back to see if you were deep in your slumber. You were, but he'd heard your heart beat abnormally thumping louder like you were being chased and the latter knew you were caught up in a nightmare.

He gently pulled you around, turning you to face him as you've unconsciously flutter your eyes open, seeing burnt out glowing amber eyes which made you thoughtlessly cuddle closer to his neck. Humane, baritone shushes rocked you to sleep, feeling more protected that you wouldn't have a nightmare of being chased by monsters anymore now that Geralt was beside you.

Be that as it may, his actions were baffling you because after that nightly cuddle session, he was out of doors; never telling you where he went as he came back home at around nightfall without anyone telling you where he went; not that Jaskier and Cirilla knew because they also had no idea where the he went.

Here you thought, witchers can't be petty over such a little thing.

Surprisingly, Geralt was going to be the living proof that they knew how to act like one. It was like he was having a manly period and acting complicated was one of the effects; would chocolates simmer his pettiness down? you doubt.

"Hmm." The witcher was crouched beside his horse; giving her a look before scanning through a half ripped parchment paper that had an awful sketch of his face and yours; one he had retrieved from the guards that tried to forcefully take him when he was away to hunt a Bruxa.

He heard your soft padded footsteps coming down the stairs. Geralt knew it was yours because you had your own pattern; like it was a pebble being thrown in the water. Faint, gentle patters that only you can do in the perimeters of his household. Thusly, he kept the paper close to him, slipping it through the band of his pants as he rose to his feet; the sound of your feet taking a hesitant step close once he'd felt you nearby. You were hesitating, shy or probably thinking too deeply again.

Hence, your bashful company has lifted a suppressed smile on the witcher's face before it fell in just a hot second.

"My...sweetheart of a witcher," You coyly poked through his silence, taking heedful steps close. Your boots lightly scraping along the pastureland, trudging to where you could see Geralt and his broad shoulders.

The endearment you had for him struck an involuntary cringe. He swiftly turned on his heel, facing you with his eyebrows tightly scrunched together like he didn't know what to truthfully feel about the whole pet name. You gave him an unimpressed fall of your forced smile, completely nonplussed that he seemed to be peeved.

"What's with that face? You don't like it? Is it that too cringey? you looked like you've seen Barney and realized he was an awful, scary dinosaur for the children!"

Geralt exhaled a breath out of his mouth before peering down at you; disregarding your modern references for now because he knew it was a banter, his eyes doing that beautiful narrowed smolder that made you want to smack his face...with your lips.

"You're doing it too."

You snobbishly crossed your arms across your chest, shrugging off the timidness as you held your head up high. Literally. The compelling sarcasm drizzling out of your mouth as you declared, drawling out your words like it sounded seething and with emphasis as Geralt couldn't help but tilt his head to the side, considering the snark that you wanted him to be aware of.

"Fine. I'm ticking that out. Honey, then? Cause you're as sweet as honey then became too salty and tried spending more time with Roach rather than your midget."

Who was petty about being subtly ignored now?

Y-O-U.

Geralt shifted his weight on both feet, the glint in his eyes telling you that he was finding the topic rather amusing when you're all riled up for being out of his reach. He'd done that for you. Isn't that what you wanted? space? a timeout? yet, why were you being mad about it then?

"My darling witcher," you started again with a pinch of sugar; the endearment sounding like a threat when you've seen his eyes subtly scanning your clothes. He'd given you a scowl. His gaze felt heavily dragging as he bore in mind at the image of your taut, hardening nipples that was poking through the tube part of your dress.

The crisp breeze of the wind passed through the air, licking up your spine that ignited a reflex from your perky breasts, your dress more see-through as Geralt inspected such a modest outfit which you never worn ever.

Nevertheless, its effects that you wanted to portray through the outfit got him eager for what plans you hold; appearing to be so innocent, demure and sweet with that princess-like sleeveless dress. You had plans. Cunning plans for the witcher, indeed. Sometimes, that naivity running in your veins contradicts with the threatening tone that somehow slips through your mouth; like a bane from a baby snake because of how innocuous you wanted it to be told.

Your innocence somehow had ulterior motives and dark shadows behind your cherub face and small height.

"Stop it." Geralt lowly grumbled in protest, the sight of your nipples stirring the heat inside his pants. You've caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling in disbelief, making you exclaim out loud, "I'm squeezing so hard for your sweetness to come out, Geralt. Pay heed for my effort, will ya'?"

The latter loudly sighed, turning on his booted heel to brush through Roach's mane; he tried to ignore your get-up. But, the dress was doing magnificent effects to your whole being. You were as pretty as a picture, captivating on its finest because of how effeminate its design was decorating your body.

Geralt gave you another once over, probably staring a little bit too long for his 'self-control' to shake.

"You're wearing a dress." he uttered a little bit dull for you to accept. Words frothing with lethargy as he continued to give his attention more to his horse that made you withhold a huff because of how you were feeling disregarded.

You went all the way out; wearing a pretty dress just for the witcher and here he was, brushing off your presence like he didn't like what he was seeing. You were sure you were dolled up from head to foot; even had Cirilla helping you tie the strings behind your back to keep your stomach in tact.

Jaskier even had a good start of the day to send compliments when all you've receive from him was insults; his words noting that you were looking rather feminine and pretty with the dress you've bought back in the marketplace and the witcher here couldn't even look straight into your eyes nor give you the attention you've been hoping for?

Your face fell from his lackadaisical response, eyeing Geralt in dismay who still had his back face-front. You were thoroughly disheartened, shoulders slumping while you stood beside the towering white wolf; voice sounding nasally from how dispirited you've felt.

"You sound like you're telling me I look like a whale in this pretty cute dress with that scowl on your face---Thank you for your kind honesty, my lord."

Geralt sauntered around Roach where his bag has been strapped to his horse, you've tailed behind him like a puppy. He rummaged through his leather bag, mumbling his reply in his most sluggish tone like a wiseacre.

"You want something from me. Obviously." he bluntly commented, digging in his bag for a thing he bought from Babeth.

You cocked your head to the side, shrugging your shoulders when you've heard Roach neigh through your honest confession induced with sheer sarcasm.

"Your attention.It’s what I only need! What else? It's like begging to a rock, I swear. You don't even hold my hand, give me back hugs, kiss me on my forehead like in the movies or those sweet gestures that men usually do. Roses! Daisies! Love letters! But, does your world have roses though?---What? you screw me all night in one day---wrecking my punani then ignore me the next? excuse me, Mr. Casanova---"

He briefly ceased his ransack, sparing you a glimpse of his impervious amber eyes; silently asking if you were actually serious with this complaining of yours before quickly revoking the admission with a snort.

"---Pfft. Okay. I'm shutting up."

Geralt went back on digging through his bag pockets, his thick fingers seeming to give him a difficult time as he couldn't help but deeply groan to himself, the scowl etching on his face growing tighter when he couldn't seem to find it. In the midst of searching through his bag, he could hear your toes softly tapping on the ground alongside with your fingers lacing behind your back and tapping against each other while you get a hold of what you were about to actually ask; like a child asking permission from her guardian.

"Jaskier and Cirilla will be visiting Cuthbert," you quietly started, uncertain of what his answer would because the last time you've tried jumping out of their household, he came home entirely maddened over the fact that you were wandering around the woods at night. However, today you would dawdle through the woods in the morning.

"---Can I come with?"

He talked under his breath, "No. Stay."

You slightly turned your head, jutting your ear his way because it sounded like an incoherent rumble of his voice that you didn't quite believed to hear and so, you repeated; much clearer and with emphasis.

"Jaskier told me they'll be bringing Kolby with them so he could wander around a little bit. If a Hirikka can come with them. Then, I suppose I can---"

Geralt cut you off in a curt manner, "Stay." he repeated his word more gruffly than the rest.

You instantly pouted from the dismissal of your request, glowering back at the witcher who was turning a deaf ear; still going through his stuff as he kept silent which caused you to sulk because of how he couldn't seem to get the bottom of why you were being petty like him.

"I thought you needed to do some monster hunting again?"

A strand of silvery hair fell from the side of Geralt's temple as he simply turned to give you an indescribable look in his eyes, tight-lipped but not much of a scowl and close enough towards a frown as he gruffly asked.

"Do you want me to leave?"

An immediate answer was sent to him; a hasty shake of your head as your features turned rigid while you quickly didn't hesitate to answer, "N-No! Of course, not!"

"Then, no. I'm not leaving you." he nonchalantly aforementioned. Finger brushing off a metal string he was finding for.

Geralt decided to stay a little longer before he went out and about to search for the Bloedzuiger he needed to annihilate for the town. He'd given Durriken a two week deadline before he finds the beast in the swamps. Though, the witcher didn't expect to actually take him a week before going on his way to kill this monster because he'd estimated his hunt to only be four days tops. Howbeit, he was stalling and chose to hunt for the bruxa that Jaskier lately mentioned near the ruins and close enough for him to go home when he wants to.

The white haired witcher never puts a brake with his job because he knew that this was the lives of people they were talking about. Yet, when he has encountered the chevaliers of Kaedwen, hunting for the Bloedzuiger that his old friend has requested somehow took him more than a week before actually starting his pursuit.

The day after tomorrow. Geralt would start to find this monster in the south swamps.

"You're not really going to let me go?" you utter so suddenly, huffing out a frustrated breath because you felt like you were being quarantined after the whole incident. It was fine if Geralt was thoughtful enough to entertain you; giving you a little slip of what was running inside his mind, talking to you instead of his horse and a lot more that could serve as entertainment for you.

There were no television, wifi, computers or places you know that were safe to jog in without being eaten by their monsters.

He clipped his bag shut, his fist closed as you tried peeking to what he was holding but his big hands made it difficult to snoop around. Geralt was tightly clutching onto the thing he was holding that made you cross your arms for the second time around, your eyes giving him a glare that didn't move him because he knew you weren't actually mad; just annoyed.

"Fine! I've wasted using a dress then. You know I never like wearing this type of clothes!"

"You're also wearing that because you have other things in your mind,"

Yes, it was to keep Geralt's eyes only on you and not his horse; trying to stir whatever you could for him to never leave your sight.

You rolled your eyes; trying not to appear like you were caught like a deer in headlights, "Great, now you're wanting to be adopted by the x-men or avengers," pause. "---You read minds now too?"

The latter softly exhaled a breath out of his nose. His muscles straining against the black under tunic he wore; sleeves folded till the ends of his elbows that accentuated those protruding veins in his forearms that looked so powerful and strong. You cleared your throat when he'd crossed his arms, the ends of his lips faintly curling when he'd lean his head to the side, quietly watching you fret.

You gave him a nod, misunderstanding his silence that he was trying to shoo you away, anxiously biting the insides of your cheeks, looking straight into his eyes as you thought out loud, "Alright, I'm not going to leave the house. I'll...try and find ways to spend the time,"

Turning around your heel, you were ceased from doing so as strong, thick and warm fingers held onto your shoulder; halting you from leaving him alone. Your heart skipped a beat as he did, his touch sending a bolt towards your stomach, electrifying the butterflies living inside to wake up.

"Wait." Geralt suddenly rasped.

"Did you change your mind now---"

You've tried to turn around, eyes hopeful that he wanted you to stay. His strong hand held you still. Silver met silver as it chimed from behind, a tiny grinding of metals faintly crashing against each other before you heard another grumble of curse words from the witcher who towered from behind.

As blasphemy left his lips, a string of metal looped around your neck followed after. His incoherent babbles quite fathomable as you could hear and comprehend that he doesn't do this kind of shit, complaining why did he even bought such a thing. Another low rumble of the word 'fuck' was all it took for Geralt to impatiently clasp onto the lock with his patience running low, taking him five tries before successfully connecting the hook; his thick fingers awfully difficult for the small jewelry to hold onto.

"Geralt," you were stunned, looking down to see the necklace that has caught your eye back at the marketplace.

It was still glowing like it used to, the coral green color beautifully twinkling against the sunlight. With an excited turn of your heel, you were feet close with the witcher; peering down with a compassionate haze in his eyes that made you grab onto the stone that lay before the valley of your breasts. His fingers still clasped on your shoulder, "This is---this was the fae necklace from Babeth. How did you know?"

Geralt avoided the question with a lick of his lips, taking a glimpse down at the necklace before staring back onto your face. The stone complimenting your glow that only you could radiate, "It'll suit you." Pause. "---The necklace also serves as an amulet to keep you out of harms way,"

"How did you know I liked this?"

You were dumbfounded; peepers quizzical and gaping at the colossal hunk of a witcher. He looked around the field as he breathed, trying to form words that he wanted to say but chose the savory answer of what he actually meant.

"I....just know," he trailed off, warmth trying to embrace you in solace when he let his words flow like a boat sailing in the ocean, smooth and steady; also direct to the point.

"---Your wishes for a man who could offer you a lavish life will never be granted. I can never be the man in your fantasies, midget. I'm not what you think I am; a prince or some nobleman in this world. I’m the least you expect or hope for,"

His jaw ticked as he continued to speak, amber eyes downcast as his face turned impassive; words turning slower than the usual, "I try not to be what they say I am after years end," pause. "---I am not entirely evil nor am I good. I've done things far more worse than any kind person would wail about. People have considered me as a monster for relevant reasons because I've killed their kind with my sword---specifically, fiendish people as I see fit,"

"---But, If I could choose one evil or another, I prefer not to choose at all."

Geralt never broke his gaze away, nor did you find any lies beneath the windows of his soul. Every word he say was the truth as he tries to truly explain what he was in their world, sending a message that he was the boogeyman living inside your closet or a monster haunting you under your bed. The horrible type of personification of what he actually was. Yet, you never see him as one.

With all words that has been said, you couldn't learn to despise him because you knew he was beyond more than that. Important. Valuable and also needed to be shown that ill will and animosity aren't the only sarcastic good that every world can offer. There was kindness; in which he shows no matter how he didn't seem to be aware of. Care. Love. Hope. Eternal happiness.

You knew your heart was screaming it; silently shouting back at the witcher that there was more to the world that it can ever offer and you aspire to be that person to show him what it is he seem to be rejecting.

The latter was heedful of how gentle you were gazing up at him. Thus, he continued, mindless that he was lost in his dismal thoughts of the life that was given to him, "The whole continent, they despise my kind and where ever I go, shit happens all the time,"

Geralt seemed to grit his teeth, humming in displeasure when his features curved into a wince for whatever he had to say next, "---It's the fucking destiny that was bound for me,"

A sudden heavy feeling crept inside your chest; crawling towards your throat and triggering you into throwing a hissy fit of sobs that pushed the tears falling right before your eyes. The abrupt shift from feeling sympathy turned into a mournful midget. Tears being an answer that you were with Geralt in this for whatever he was fighting for; having no idea that his fight could be total carnage and here you thought he was just like Bucky in the Marvel Universe.

People calling him that he's a villain when he certainly isn't because he was brainwashed or had no other choice.

Perhaps, Geralt could be like it. He'd done some kind of evil because he had no other choice too. 

He could be a monster but also a hero. 

"Why...are you crying?" the white wolf didn't know what to do. Should he hug you? wipe your tears? do men in your world do that when a woman cries? Geralt just stood tall and stiff beside Roach who had stepped back till she had her head close to him.

For anything Geralt can ever look for a horse, she'd somehow neighed and nudged his face; promptly hitting the witcher on the side of his face which caught him off-guard; quickly glaring at his horse as she offered another clear whinny which got another piercing glare from the man himself.

"I don't even know! I think it's because you're also feeling this way but you're not the one crying!"

You were in the midst of expressing your feelings. Your impulsive self hastily grabbing onto Geralt's hand that had him raising a quizzical brow. He momentarily took a glimpse of your fingers lacing in between the spaces of his. He'd never remembered that he had done such a thing before; holding hands while standing in the middle of the meadow, his hand that has tasted blood from different kinds of living creatures or people.

Those sensitive, delicate and sinless fingers of yours gripping his; connecting and enveloping against each other as one. He'd never expected for it to feel this way.

It was quite satisfying and calming; making him feel like he was protecting you in some ways because of how his palms were rather large against yours.

You sniffed your cries away, roughly wiping them with the back of your free hand. Stepping more to his side; his height towering beside your small form as you have given Geralt a look of query, "Why are you holding my hand, Geralt?"

It was a ridiculous joke that laced with sarcasm. He didn't seem to decipher what you meant and heard him sigh with a suppressed smile on his face; fighting off the beam.

"I didn't. You held onto it in the first place,"

"Oh, right. Heehee!" you simply shrugged your shoulders and puckered your lips, giggling after seeing the smile rising those tight-lips. You've waved the awkwardness off as the witcher didn't seem to know what holding hands meant. Add the fact that his hold didn't seem tight and comfortable.

"Isn't holding hands a thing in this world of yours?"

"No." He simply answered, wondering if he needed to clasp his hands tighter. Geralt was about to when you've patted his fingers to relax and grope yours, eventually slackening.

"Oh. Okay. Then, hold me like you're scared to let go, Geralt."

The white wolf mutely complied to your satisfaction; warmth that his hand could provide felt so secure as his grip turned firm like he never did wanted to let go if possible. He tipped his head to the side, watching your face contort into a felicitous image that he had already seen; recognizing the smile that he has seen in the dream that the Djinn wanted him to see.

A dream where he was also smiling the same way as you did.

You were definitely in a more jovial mood after receiving such an adorable gift from the witcher; gifts that he certainly wasn't used to giving, gestures that make him uncomfortable but he tries his best to show that he wasn't what people think he really is and that mindset was enough for your heart to jump in felicity. You've tightened your intertwined fingers.

"There. Better!"

Geralt heard the faint rustle of the winds; hitting you both in a chilling phantasm of the air hugging you in the cold. He heard a twig break from the far distance, it was imperceptible to the ears of a normal human; but not to him.

This wasn't the only time he'd heard things out of the ordinary, some were harmless animals but mostly were beasts that could harm people when hungry. The sound was faint and stealthy; sounding like this beast didn't want to be seen nor caught.

His head snap to where the sound came from, seeing nothing but an extensive lineage of trees swaying from left to right. You've given Geralt a look of doubt, seeing him narrowing his eyes at the far end of the meadow. A simple shake of your hands interlaced together interfered his perusal of something or someone lurking from behind the woods.

"Geralt, come on! I need to show you something and it's about Kolby! He's acting weird!" you tugged onto his hand, walking forward as you tried your hardest to pull his weight; he knew you couldn't and so his concern flew right above his head when you've looked back with those pleading doe-eyes of yours, receiving not anything less than a hum from Geralt as he'd fully had his attention diverted because of you.

"Hmm."

ANOTHER SMUT WILL BE ON CHAPTER 15.1 WHICH WILL BE UPDATED NEXT WEEK, OF COURSE! HEHEHEHEHE. FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! CAN I JUST SAY THAT I WANT TO BE THE READER SO BAD? 

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl​ @himarisolace​ @barkingbullfrog​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @hellodevilslittlesister​ @vania-marie​ @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us​ @nympeth​ @amirahiddleston​ @gabethelobster​ @dreaming-about-starfleet​ @uncoolcloudyhead​ @melaninstylezz​ @psychosupernatural​ @missjenniferblog @dance-dreamer @marvelousell​ @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3 @gutfucks​ 

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza

#geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt x you #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x female reader #geralt x you smut #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia smut #geralt fanfic #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt one shot #geralt of rivia fanfiction #henry cavill #the witcher geralt smut #geralt smut #geralt of rivia series #white wolf #henrycavill #geralt of rivia x reader insert #butcher of blaviken #the witcher fic #the witcher x you #witcher geralt #witcher of the night #seb-owns-these-tatas

[saeryuart]

Ikevamp Hugger Tiers

... Welcome to the first and last piece of writing I’ll likely ever post on here lmao. I couldn’t get this outta my head and this happened XD If your guy happens to be one of the lower tiers, sorry! 

The entire list is just how I think it would go, soooo yeah. Though funnily enough, the guys listed in the tiers themselves aren’t necessarily in order lmao. 

Includes Vlad and Charles! Because it’s gonna be a long af post, writing is under the cut!

TOP TIER HUGGERS

Napoleon:

-Honorary member #1 of the #GotThisSquad

-Man radiates big bro energy, and if you don’t know it right now, you WILL know it when he takes you in his arms. They’re warm, strong and protective.

The kinds of hugs he tends to give vary between being playful or protective. If he’s feeling playful, he’d probably hug you from behind and murmur teasing, loving remarks in your ear. He’s particularly fond of nuzzling his cheek in your hair.

-Man’s also got big hands, great for holding your waist, along with other things mhmmm~ ;)) they’re great for making you feel even more secure than you normally would, and that’s saying a lot

-With his hugs, he wants to tell you he’s not only protecting your body, but your heart and soul if you’re willing. They’re all encompassing, and are always gonna have you feeling safe, no matter what

-Sleepy hugs are arguably the best kind of hugs to receive from him though, bc all filters are off. Any reservations the man might normally have are gone as he pulls you into bed to hug the life outta you 

-Hope you don’t have any important plans for the day bc you’ll be stuck there with his face buried in the crook of your neck, nuzzling into you like a cat. 

-Please hug him, you won’t regret it. .... If you don’t have plans.

Overall rating: 9/10

Comte:

-Leader of the #GotThisSquad, man knows what he is doing

-He’s super observant of people by nature, so he’ll know immediately what it is you want. You someone that’s more energetic and wants tight hugs? That’s what you’re gonna get. You’re a shy, hesitant bean that isn’t quite used to contact? He’s gotchu girl~ He’ll hold you gently but loosely, so you have the chance to step away if you want to

-but if he had it his way, he would put the person in the gentlest but secure hold. Especially fond of having his hands stroke their hair and back.

-Speaking of which, his hands are like magic, able to melt your worries and tensions away. They just coax you into relaxing in his arms

-He personally prefers to be the one doing the holding, but if you want to spoil him, you don’t need to work that hard to convince him - running your fingers through his hair is a surefire way to make a contented sigh escape his lips.

-It’s a bone-deep kind of satisfaction that Comte wouldn’t trade for anything in the world, cherishing the person in his arms

-It doesn’t matter whether you’re happy or sad, he’s your go-to person if you’re in need of a hug

Overall rating: Sugar Daddy/10

Vincent:

-Final member of the #GotThisSquad.

-Like a warm summer day, his hugs are super soft and sweet. Somehow, despite being a painter and hardly stepping out of the mansion, he smells like freshly washed sheets.

-His hands are gentle and soft, but a little calloused from constantly washing and handling his art supplies and paintings.

-While holding you, expect sweet nothings to be whispered in your ear. Man loves you so much, he has to make sure you know everything that’s in his thoughts, EVERYTHING.

-His fingers tend to absently trace all the little things he loves about you; your hair, your cheeks, your lips, the way your eyes shine when they reflect his own loving gaze in yours... it all makes him want to hold you more and never let go.

-Particularly fond of holding your hand while hugging you, intertwining your fingers together as naturally as breathing. Also enjoys touching foreheads with your own, staring into your eyes.

-He hopes he makes you feel as beautiful as he sees you.

Overall rating: Sunshine Boi/10 **sobs** 

HIGH TIER HUGGERS

Leonardo:

-BLAST FURNACE.

-This man is a portable heater who can’t stand not being in your arms for 0.000001 seconds. Especially when he’s ready to take a nap.

-Great during Winters, but the Summer... welp. Run MC. Other than that though, he gives great bear hugs.

-He’s so huge, he literally dwarfs any and everything under that hugeass coat. TBH you’ll either hate it or love it, depending on how good your blood circulation is lmaooo

-Man likes giving back hugs when in a teasing mood, but when he’s feeling more romantic, he prefers you to be facing him. Odds are, he’ll be pulling you into his arms, hand tucking the back of your head into his chest.

-His bear hugs are reassuring, those broad arms and strong chest doing wonders in making you feel safe and secure. Depending on how tall you are, he’d pull you into his chest or the crook of his neck. ... And did I mention that chest? Damn Daddy.

-Odds are, he’s gonna smell like tobacco too. If you don’t like that sorta thing, that could be something of a turnoff. Man’s a giant too, so odds are you’re going to be an armrest half the time, rip.

Overall rating: 8/10

Arthur:

-Like his personality, his hugs are playful and endearing. He LOVES cuddles and by Jove, if Arthur Conan Doyle wants cuddles, he WILL get cuddles.

-Repeat after me. CLINGY. MAN.

-It’s practically canon that, like a puppy, he wants your attention on him ALL THE TIME. So eye contact is a must, lots of small kisses peppered across your face to make you laugh; your laughter never fails to make his heart skip a beat.

-Skinship is practically a requirement, it’s Arthur’s love language. Up there with gift giving.

-He loves holding your waist while breathing in your scent in the crook of your neck. He wants to be enveloped by you, your presence assures him more than anything. But that doesn’t mean the hugs are a one-sided thing, either.

-If in a particularly good mood, he’ll hum some random English tune while swaying you side to side. Sometimes, that swaying might evolve into a full-blown dance, with him twirling you around the mansion floor with laughter.

-With you, he always wants you to feel as good as you make him, for you bring out the best side of him.

Overall rating: 8.5/10

Vlad:

-0/10, momma didn’t raise you to fall for no shady man, wouldn’t recommend.

-KIDDING, I’M KIDDING. .... Mostly.

-Bc he’s such a shady man with little to no experience in physical contact, one would think a hug from him would be the worst idea one could have if they ignored his pretty face and bewitching eyes-

-Warning: Once he’s in love, his hugs are the singular most addicting thing besides his kisses. MAYDAY, MAYDAY, ABORT!! Man is dangerously attractive, and he knows it.

-Bc he’s always around flowers, he always smells great. Like nectar from the sweetest flower, his sweet, honeyed words would coax you over until, before you know it, you’re trapped within his arms.

-He’s not planning on letting go either, because only he deserves to see such beauty and tend to it. As far as he’s concerned, the other weeds he calls ‘men’ could be nipped in the bud ok that’s enough flower puns, I promise.

-His hugs are unbelievably gentle, but possessive. You’ll be handled so delicately, you’d wonder if he mistook you for glass - no, even glass was handled with less care than how he’s holding you right now.

-He has to have eye contact while holding you. No exceptions. He has to know, what are you thinking right now? If you feel like breaking away, surely he has other ways of convincing you...

Overall rating: Intervention/10

Charles:

-TACKLE HUUUUUUGSSSS

-Hope you have a strong back, because he won’t be able to resist glomping you over half the time.

-If he’s particularly excited, he’ll be playfully swinging you around after. You getting dizzy? Tooooo bad, maybe after a couple more minutes. As long as you don’t throw up, babe~

-Man may be a doctor but dammit, he has the right to cuddle his honey, too! Hmm, this sounds familiar. Must be a doctor thing.

=Nose boops and cheek rubs. All that disgustingly cheesy and playful shit that makes anyone watching gag from the diabetes. 

-If he’s feeling mischievous enough, he might bury his nose into the crook of your neck to blow hot air on your skin to make you squirm. It never fails to make him giggle.

-His main focus is making you laugh and have a good time, nothing else matter.s He likes the way laughter makes your eyes crinkle juuust right~

Overall rating: 7.5/10 bc his hugs will break someone’s back one day-

MID-TIER HUGGERS

Dazai:

-A surprisingly decent hugger.

-One wouldn’t think him capable of giving hugs with such genuity and emotion, unless you were the person he were doing it to. These special hugs are especially private, reserved for the irreplacable person in Dazai’s life.

-Despite his appearances, he is a compassionate person deep down, and wants to see you happy. Especially as the one who taught him to care for his own life.

-Like Arthur, he likes making you laugh. With his arms encircling your middle from behind, he likes giving surprise tickles to make you squeak and jump, promting his own quiet chuckles. Your reactions never fail to amuse him.

-His hugs are literally breathtaking, because you’ll be too busy squirming with breathless laughter to escape out of his arms. It makes his eyes light up in a way that’s startlingly different from the smile he shows the others; the closest thing to a true smile.

-For more somber moments, he holds you like he’s never going to hold you again. You can feel how much he cherishes you with how gently but securely he embraces you. He likes doing it from behind so you don’t have to see the pained expression on his face as he holds your hand for comfort.

-The only real downside is that again these hugs are especially private, so no one else gets to see. A shame too, or not, depending on how you look at it. uwu

Overall rating: Soft sad boi/10 whoops I kinda accidentally turned this into angst.

Isaac:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #1.

-Bc he’s so awkward and shy, his hugs are gonna be stiff af at first. He might not even respond at all, depending on how startled he is. Or how fast you let go of him

-If you do let go first, he’s gonna be lowkey highkey disappointed.

-Good thing is, because his hands are so used to delicate work, his touch is gentle and precise. So if you’re sensitive to physical sensations, he’ll pick up on that. If he does manage to brush against a sensitive area, expect a ton of stammered apologies and red cheeks.

-At first, his initial touches are shaky and unsure. But when he starts to gain confidence, his hands are curious and careful.

-Give him some time to let the hedgehog bristles come down a bit, and you’ve got yourself a teddy bear. Unfortunately, his hugs are going to remain awkward for some time bc-

-wHAT IF HE HOLDS YOU FOR TOO LONG, WOULD YOU GET ANNOYED??? DOES IT COME OFF AS TOO CLINGY, WHAT IF- ***incoherent anxious screaming into the void***

-Error: Isaac Newton has stopped working.exe

-Once he gets used to you though, his hugs become super comforting. Boy’s a string bean, so his arms aren’t the most buff. But the way he holds you is so awkwardly sweet, you can feel the sincerity behind his actions.

-Please give him a chance, he’s so worth it T_T

Overall rating: 7/10

Jeanne:

-Awkward Blushy Boi #2

-Similarly to Isaac, he’s super standoffish at first, especially with the whole ‘don’t touch me, you’ll get dirty blah blah blah’ spiel sHUT UP AND LET ME LOVE YOU.

-Don’t expect him to ever initiate hugs, not at first. It’s a long work in progress with this man. But pls stick with him, he is so, so worth it.

-Jeanne isn’t a person that gives away affection lightly, so whenever he hugs you, expect him to mean it. You will be weak-kneed at the sheer compassion and warmth behind his actions, even through his gloves.

-But if you do ever hug him, even though it’s hesitant, he’ll never fail to hug you back bc he’s a soft boi that doesn’t want to hurt your feelings.

-Despite having the tendency to push people away,his hugs are gentle and protective. They let you know you’re safe and not alone. Giver #2 of great comfort hugs.

-Once he’s comfortable, he’ll like the feeling of your bare skin against his palms, so he’ll start hugging you with his gloves off.

-Develops a habit of gently rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand; he likes how small they feel in his own. It makes him feel protective, renewing his vow of keeping you safe.

-Unfortunately, he gets points deducted for never initiating contact at first, as well as his hugs being rather stiff for a long time.

Overall Rating: 6.5/10 pls love-

Sebastian:

-Hugging? When you could be WORKING?? It’s more likely than you think.

-Man is normally reserved, and not one for physical contact. But his touch is surprisingly gentle and reassuring. Particularly if you’re feeling upset or stressed.

-He’s fond of back rubs and closeness as he’s holding you. Tucking your head under his chin, his hold is gentle but firm, reminding you of your good qualities and what he loves about you. 

-Because he’s not as remarkable as the other men in the mansion, he might need some extra reassurance that he’s good enough for you. He’ll appreciate it if you rub his back, especially after a rough day. 

-Under those gloves, his hands are rough and calloused from his work as a butler, but the way he embraces you couldn’t be more deliberate or careful.

-Sebastian considers you his little miracle, the fact that you came from the same timeline as him gives him a new level of comfort as a piece of home away from home.

-Despite his strictness during work, he makes sure you know how much you really mean to him. While he disapproves of PDA in front of the residents, he doesn’t mind sneaking a cuddle now and then... in privacy of course.

-But despite these qualities, the problem with Sebastian’s hugs is that they hardly get a chance to happen.

-Man is too busy working himself to death helping the mansion residents, and has an 18-hour work schedule everyday to spend time with you. Someone save him bls. You’ll be doing both of yourselves a favor.

Overall rating: Workaholic/10

LOW-TIER HUGGERS (I’m so sorry)

Theo:

-Ah yes, Hondje fetish man.

-Like his brusque personality, his grip may be a tad rough, but the way he holds you is protective and gentle. Likes holding the back of your head close to him, arm secure around your waist; he likes the feeling of you belonging to him

-Theo doesn’t really do comfort hugs. Unless your life was in danger or something, he’s much more likely to just pull you in when he feels like having cuddles hugs. Processing emotional depth greater than familial love is a bit of a learning curve for the man. He’s trying.

-His hold is possessive, but affectionate. He likes pulling you in close by the hip when in public; man claims he’s not big into PDA, but he’s proud of his girlfriend and WILL show that off, dammit. 

-Also claims he’s not clingy, but he’ll hold onto you for as long as physically possible until he has to let go. So you’d better not be thinking of going anywhere Hondje, not when you have your Master to please. Yeah, sure ok sounds fake but ok.

-He doesn’t initiate hugs often, but he likes holding you in quiet moments when you’re alone. Not that he’ll admit that out loud. Like Vincent, he likes touching foreheads with yours to stare into your eyes. They’re like the perfect works of art to him, a masterpiece he can stare at for hours. He likes how expressive they are, the way they light up in so many different ways whether you’re happy, angry or excited.

-Honestly, despite the loving shit I give him, he’s only barely in this tier for a couple reasons. But one of them is that he’s not really an affectionate kind of hugger. Theo’s the kind of guy that expresses his love through uh... other physical means. If you catch my drift~ >3

-All in all, his hugs are protective and strong, but also a little rough. Perfect if you want to be assured of your relationship and loved, but not really recommended if you’re looking for something comforting and soothing. 

-TLDR: His hugs are warm, but not versatile. Honest Tsunderes die if they are killed

Overall rating: 6/10

Mozart:

-Awkward Blushy Boy #3. The holy trinity is complete.

-Unfortunately, I’m gonna have to rank Mo as the worst hugger of the mansion guys for a couple reasons. One being his lack of human contact.

-Like Isaac, his hands are very careful. He cherishes you, and wants you to feel the devotion he has for you, so he often handles you as gently as he does his violets.

-But the stage to get there is unbearably long. Like, Jeanne kinda long. In fact, Mo is someone that, (even after he gets together with you), thinks that people only approach him when they have an angle, something to gain from him. But that doesn’t mean he holds back with you.

-His initial hugs are awkward at best, the but number of ways he hugs you is as innumerable as his compositions. A loving, encasing hug for a declaration of affection, a passionate intense embrace when recovering from a close call, entwining of fingers in a quiet moment... you’ll have it all. 

-He sometimes hums some songs in your ear while holding you, particularly if you’re upset. His hand will also be rubbing soothing and gentle circles in your back. Mozart is a passionate, empathic man deep down, and will accept nothing less than your complete comfort.

-Unfortunately, while his hands are beautiful and practically close to perfection in appearance, they’re awfully cold from poor circulation. Doesn’t help that he’s a literal vampire.

-The temperature difference is bound to make you jump a little, but he makes up for it with his gentleness. It’s also why he likes stroking your hair, entwining his fingers together around your waist so you don’t feel the cold as much.

-But the big reason points get deducted off is-

...... I see you reaching for the Purell, asshole. >:(

Overall Rating: Ice Hands/10

Shakespeare:

-D.... do i really need to explain this? ;;

-Don’t get me wrong, the man is very romantic. He never fails to whisper sweet words to sweep you off your feet. Hushed poetics and compliments flow out of his lips with ease, making you feel like a princess in his arms.

-However, like Mozart, his hands are cold from poor circulation. Not to mention... do you smell a hint of blood, coming from him? No, it’s just your imagination, he swears.

-Like the man himself, his embraces are very passionate. He loves holding you close by the waist, making sure your bodies are touching as much as possible. He’s rather fond of bringing a lock of your hair to his lips, kissing it with the flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

-He’s also rather... possessive. When he’s feeling particularly sly, he embraces you sensually from behind, resting his chin on top your shoulder. The way his arms slowly rise to curl around your waist feel like the sweetest trap you can’t bring yourself to escape.

-He’s also one that silently demands eye contact. As he keeps a hold of your waist, he likes to cradle your cheek tenderly, the mismatched wild yellow and blood red faze staring into your soul. The way he searches your eyes for your secrets steals your breath away, as the devotion he pours into the act belies any falsehoods he might’ve told.

-Again, this man is very devoted. Loves you to the point of obsession, really, But would I recommend hugging him personally? Aha ha ha haaa... gimme a while on that one. When the knife he has in his pocket isn’t poking my stomach. And NO, I don’t mean the one you want.

Overall rating: Romantic until someone dies/10 (I SEE those knives sticking out of your coat pocket Shakes, I want your arms, not the damn Iron Maiden).

Faust:

-Man wants you as a guinea pig. Why would you want to hug that. 

-...  Idk enough of him to actually add more than that. Sorry lmao.

Overall rating: Death wish???/10

--- Wow, I am never doing that again sdlkfjsd. I think my wrists have died along with my sinuses making this post lmao. Hopefully everyone was relatively in character! If you actually managed to sit through all of this, you deserve a big round of applause, seriously. I think I’ll stick to drawing tho, kek.

#Ikemen Vampire #ikevamp #cybird otome #cybird ikemen series #ikevamp headcanon #ikemen vampire headcanon #ikevamp imagine #ikemen series #otome #Napoleon Bonaparte #Isaac Newton #Comte de Saint-Germain #leonardo da vinci #Arthur Conan Doyle #vincent van gogh #theo van gogh #Dazai Osamu #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp charles #charles henri sanson #ikevamp faust #johann georg faust #ikevamp sebastian #Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart #Jeanne d'Arc #Jean D'arc #ikevamp napoleon #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp comte

[okamirayne]

Hi Rayne!! Just finished (yet another) re-read of BtB, and I don't think I've cried this hard in a long, long time - it was very cathartic. But, feels aside, I was wondering if you could tell us a bit more about Karibi? She's fascinating and I'm just dying to know more! (Sorry if this has been asked before!!)

Hi there, my lovely Anon!

Apologies for the delayed response. Aw, luv.  Always so, so chuffed to learn someone has revisited the series and even more touched to know it hits you in the feels <3.

But, feels aside, I was wondering if you could tell us a bit more about Karibi? She's fascinating and I'm just dying to know more! (Sorry if this has been asked before!!)

Karibi! <3 Firstly, no, this hasn’t been asked before, so imagine my excitement regarding an OC ASK -- can you picture it? TREBLE IT. XD 

Another dear Anon asked about Naoki in a previous ASK and I thank you for your expressed interest in Karibi! It’s a funny one because I have two Karibi OCs -- the edited version I inserted into BtB and the original, original version. Given that we’re talking about BtB Karibi...let me rewire my character brain a moment and firmly draw a line or two...or twelve....

Right! A Third War orphan, Karibi grew up in the orphanage outside of Konoha and proved to be quite a handful over the years given her feisty nature, constant escape-attempts, insistence on dressing and behaving like a boy (for which she earned consistent bullying and beatings), and her rough-housing free-for-all scraps with other kids -- as well as her routine habit of stealing food from the kitchens to give to a stray dog who constantly hung around the outskirts of the orphanage. It was easier for her to attach herself this dog than other kids who came and went, just like the voluntary care-givers. Her mischief-making, stealthy tactics, “never stay down” stubbornness and streetwise attitude soon caught the attention of a retired Konoha ANBU veteran (a patron of the orphanage) who interrupted a violent fight between Karibi and a group of local boys who’d stoned the dog to death. Observing how fiercely she fought (always getting up when knocked down) despite being outnumbered and beaten, the ANBU veteran recognized her potential, promptly adopted her, and trained her in ninjutsu, genjutsu and chakra control.

Their relationship was close, until it wasn’t.

Advancing quickly through the academy and ranks – winning zero friends along the way – she was soon put forward for ANBU by her adopted father, who immediately cut his ties to her, damaging an already tentative trust. Intended as a solo agent, she was immediately assigned to a 3-team ANBU unit named Team Yokai consisting of herself, Genma, and Naoki (Captain).

Enter in, bonding.

It was here, after a lot of boundary testing and testosterone busting, that she finally formed some hard-won emotional attachments after beating Genma and Naoki bloody in taijutsu combat – taunting them constantly to get up (“seven times down, eight times up”). While she was promptly one-upped by both in ninjutsu, her genjutsu prowess brought her right back onto an even keel with them both. Perfectly balanced, respect began to form between them – then friendship – which later led to a lover’s trine between the three of them. This was intense but short-lived; Karibi soon recognised that though she loved them both, she preferred women and also realised Genma and Naoki’s feelings for each other went a hell of a lot deeper than ‘close friends with benefits’. She knew they’d fallen for each other before either admitted it to themselves, let alone each other.

The three of them were inseparably close.

They were more than her friends or comrades – they were her family.

They kept each other going.

Karibi allowed Naoki to establish a permanent telepathic link with her whereas Genma only allowed it during missions and in the bedroom. Karibi kept her mind open to Naoki always, though he never intruded until years later after being listed as Killed In Action.

His death blew a hole in their world.

Their team was dismantled.

They would not accept another Captain.

To make matters worse, due to the unbroken telepathic link and the resulting ghost of Naoki’s presence in her head, Karibi never truly believed Naoki had died and her adamant ‘denial’ of this ‘fact’ created a heart-breaking rift between her and Genma.

This rift between them grew darker and wider as Genma turned to solo deep-cover missions and Karibi turned to drink when she wasn’t neck-deep in assassinations and a failed “could’ve been” relationship. And then one day the edge of all the smashed glass bottles in her life looked very, very tempting.

Genma found her, just in time – the first time at least.

Treated and cleared of suicide risk, Karibi was soon diagnosed as schizophrenic given the “voice” of her dead Captain in her head and this threatened her position in the ANBU – but her brokenness caught Danzō’s interest.

After a failed attempt to recover her relationship with her civilian lover and unable to mend the rift between herself and Genma, she signed on for a ROOT initiation mission – which sadly finished what she’d started with the bottle – though it was an impulsive and sudden decision rather than a deeply pre-meditated one. She disobeyed orders when sent into a child-trafficking operation being run out of an orphanage. This was a trigger for her. Rather than complete the ROOT mission of kidnapping a couple of kids for ROOT grooming, she murdered her ROOT partner and slaughtered the “nuns” who were supposed to be taking care of the children rather than indenturing them into the sex-trade to raise funds. When the ninja traffickers showed up, she lit the building on fire, and while the children escaped she made damned sure not one “piece of trash” running the trafficking ring got out alive.

She went down fighting in flames.

Her death was the final crippling blow to Genma. He went to Mizugumo immediately after that. Then he went to his own personal hell before Kakashi met him there in ANBU’s gutter and helped drag him out of it years later, saving him from the same fate as Karibi when he almost identically mirrored the blaze of glory tragedy with his suicide attempt in Tanzaku years later.

Random Trivia:

Karibi loved dogs and often kept an eye out for Inuzuka women looking for a bit of rough and tumble.

She dealt with a lot of possessive shit from Naoki. He was very possessive of his family/lovers and was only just about able to accept Karibi being intimate with others, even after he’d stopped sleeping with her. Genma always joked that Naoki only accepted her activities because her preference was for women, not men.

Karibi, like Naoki, felt strongly about the abuse of children, given certain illicit incidents she’d witnessed at the orphanage -- she and Genma understood Naoki’s childhood trauma and were the only ones who could handle him when he flew into a rare rage

Her favourite catchphrase was “seven times down, eight times up” (“Nana korobi, ya oki” which means “Fall down seven times, stand up eight.” It means choosing to never give up hope, and to always strive for more.)

While her ANBU step-parent/mentor abandoned her in the end, she retained the green knit scarf he gifted her (the only gift she’d ever received from him other than her training and removal from the orphanage)

She began to fall for a civilian woman -- the scariest thing for her, other than losing her teammates.

Karibi’s top value was “resilience” and never giving up – which made her suicide attempt so painful for Genma to accept

She turned to Naoki for help retrieving memories about her parents – this enabled him to perfect his own kinjutsu to reverse memory erasure

She had a plethora of ear piercings and a tattoo Naoki inked on her hip

She loved various green teas

She had a crush on Kurenai – round about the same time Genma did, which made for an interesting competition between them….and a somewhat unfair irritation towards Asuma.

She was a bit of magpie in the ANBU and stole items on missions, donating them privately to the orphanage

She loved berry-picking and was very well-versed with poisons

Genma gave her chickenpox and she gave him hell for it

She almost managed to shove a spinning top up Genma’s ass – almost.

Genma accidentally broke her baby finger playing “thumb wars” and it never set properly on the joint, causing her to have a crooked little finger

Most of her illusion/genjutsu techniques focus around folklore creatures and light, which came in handy on missions dealing with highly suspicious village folk

Her dream goal was to one day be Goei Shotai to a female Hokage – a dream Genma later lived out for her when Tsunade came into power

Naoki was with her telepahtically when she died, as Genma was with Naoki when he died -- in that way, Karibi was not as alone in death as Genma always feared.

Wow, that was LONG.  Sorry, Anon! I absolutely love character-writing and development....I get carried away even if most of their story never makes it into the actual written piece. Thank you for asking about Karibi, I hope this insight gives you some answers! <3

#OC asks #Karibi #BtB OCs #BtB series #BtB Asks #BtB Ask #Genma #Naoki #Team Yokai #break to breathe by okami rayne #btb series #break to breathe #okami rayne #okamirayne #okami-rayne

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Disco Ball Diva

A/N: For @buckyshelves Merry Christmas, I hope you enjoy this and have a great festive holiday

To @bucky-smiles​ for organising this secret Santa gift exchange, you’re awesome and so, so kind

Also... thank you to my friend Haz who beta read this for me.  You are always so supportive of my writing and I love you

Summary:  You’re inappropriate, sassy, have snazzy powers, and now you’re an Avenger-in-training.  Not everyone appreciates your blasé attitude, and when a surveillance mission goes south you’re thrown together with one hot brooding super soldier.  It doesn’t help that you can’t stop ogling his bum.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Reader w/ powers

Word Count: 7k.  I actually feel bad that it’s so long.

Warnings:  Violence, gun violence, Bucky kills people, mentions of blood and injury, bad language (which is a given for me), some sexual tension (light) but mostly just reader is an asshat XD

The Avengers compound is not like you imagined it.  Or maybe it is but you haven’t found any of the secret stuff yet.  Hidden jet hangers under the basketball court, labs in the basement, glass cases full of superhero suits.  Wait.  That’s the freakin’ X-Men.

Still, it’s nothing like you hoped.  The conference rooms are boring, obviously, because meetings are the epitome of dull. The communal lounge and kitchen are both boring; there’s no espresso machine that doubles as a drone, no fridge that transforms into sentry bot, there isn’t even a SodaStream.  Yawn! You don’t even need to see the fitness suite to know that it’s not a place you want to visit, and you’re not allowed below the ground floor yet.  Talk about not trusting the noob.

Your room is a vision of extreme lacklustre, but you only moved in yesterday, so, no redecorating just yet, save for the peace lily your brother gave you.

Congrats on your new job and home by the way, here’s a half-dead plant I had but couldn’t be bothered to look after.  Now it’s yours.  Enjoy!

Your super power is definitely not green thumbs, nurturing life, healing, or anything even a tiny bit supportive.  You can’t fly, don’t have super strength, speed, or a crazy-good aim.  There’s not a green rage-monster just below the surface waiting to erupt and smash things.  Well, if someone steals your cookies you might have to choke a bitch but hey, rainbows are cool, right?  Super distracting, like oh hey, what’s all this shiny shit flashing around?  Oh dayum, I totally didn’t see that badass super warrior coming to kick my ass.

You swallow hard.  The small conference room feels like an interrogation room despite the polished wood table and plush leather chairs.  Of four sets of eyes that are currently watching you, only one pair is encouraging.

Tony Stark.  The guy who recruited you.  Took you from a life of selling hotdogs on street corners in the City and apartment sharing with a crazy cat lady called Angie who you found on Craigslist.  You had nothing against crazy cat ladies, per se, but you would prefer it if the pissy smell was optional.  Angie had opted in, hence why you jumped at the chance to opt out.  Ugh.

“Rainbows?”  The scowly but buff brunette with the dreamy blue eyes and robotic arm, scoffs mockingly.  “You project rainbows?”

The equally buff blonde who you suspect might be Captain America (or maybe his stunt double) snickers, his head lowered to hide his amusement.  Does Captain America have a stunt double, for like, TV appearances and meetings with officials, and stuff?  You’ll ask later.  Right now, you’re annoyed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, fist-of-victory!”  You snap your fingers like the queen you are.  “Am I too snazzy for you?  Do my rainbows ruin the whole Neanderthal vibe you got going on there?”

Loud snorts and chuckles pull you back.  The redheaded vixen you know already as Black Widow is pinching her nose to stifle her laughter, and Tony is looking to the heavens in askance but emotional stability is not forthcoming.

“Wow.”  The brunette says flatly.

“Fist of victory.” Tony ponders, eyes twinkling.  “I like that.”  He levels an amused gaze at you, rolling his next words around in his mouth.  “Manchurian candidate is a little out-dated, wouldn’t you say, Barnes? Ready for an upgrade?”

Oh shit!  Your eyes get big.  The brunette is none other than the infamous Winter Soldier.  You should have known by the arm.  Show no weakness!  Your brain screams.

“What’s the official title for that skill, you have?” Steve Rogers has gotten his face to cooperate, now there’s no trace of a smirk.  “Light manipulation?”  

“Walking disco ball.” You put on the light show again, manipulating the effects so the lights are dancing across the, now stormy grey, eyes of one Sergeant Barnes.

“It’s definitely distracting.”  Natasha says objectively.  “Could be useful.”

“See!  That’s what I said!”  You punch the air, sending the lights into a frenzy.

“I have a theory.” Tony is playing his cards close to his chest still.  “That’s why y/n is here.  She’s agreed to work with us, and at the very least she can be a supportive member of the team.”

“Team, frickin’, playahhh!”  You holler, earning a concerned look from Rogers and a downright obnoxious groan from Barnes.  “What?  What you complaining at?  You fucking love me already!”

The truth was that you didn’t know how your ability worked.  You could feel it when you did your thang, like the hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and the air in your hand felt stiff and substantial.

Better not talk about hands full of substantial stiff things around grandad Tony, he might kick the bucket.

You could manipulate the amount of reflections in your light show by making the air heavier, make them move, dance, even adjust the size of them a little.   Agreeing to work with The Avengers had been a no brainer; you get paid, get a place to stay that isn’t full of the stench of sadness and cat piss, and you get to find out more about your ability.  Win, win, win.

+++ A couple of weeks later +++

“You really expect me to take Rainbow Brite on this mission?”  Barnes has his arms crossed across his chest, refusal crinkling his brown and pursing his lips into a thin line.  The guy looks hot in tac gear.  One bicep straining against the material, the other is obviously free and oh-so-fucking-awesome.  Thighs tight under those black tac pants, thigh holster accenting the flex of muscle as he shifts his weight.  Wait-what!?

“Wait a fucking minute!”  You squawk.  “Rainbow Brite?  Oh, hell no!”  You march up to him, similarly decked out in black gear that makes you look like some tiny recruit in ill-fitting body armour instead of badass like him.

There’s a smirk on his perfect mouth now, dusky pink lips lop-sided with amusement, and the twinkle in his eyes is more than a little alluring.  What the fuck?

“Huh.”  You stop your tirade, blinking, baffled.  He’s playing with you.  Trying to get you pissed so you’ll refuse to go, or maybe he wants you to go so you’ll make a fool of yourself and Tony will see you’re not useful. Too many mind-games already, you don’t have the patience for this shit, so you go with an insult instead.  “If I’m Rainbow fucking Brite then that makes you Twink.  Dink!”

“Well, he does epitomise my sparkling personality.”  Sardonic, deadpan.  It’s classic brooding Barnes and you’re almost proud that he got an 80’s pop culture reference.  Almost.

“And they did rename him Mr fucking Glitters back in 2014.”  You pout, adopting his stance, arms crossed.

“Perfect!”  Tony pops m&ms into his mouth, turning away dismissively.  “Rainbow Brite and Mr Glitters it is.  Head to the carpool, there’s a vehicle waiting for you both.”

There was no getting away from this mission.  You’d grumbled, griped, whined, and begged Tony to send you with anyone but Broody Barnes but the Iron Man was true to his alter ego, he did not budge.

You are about to take a few pot shots at him in the insults department when Barnes’s voice comes over the earpiece you have already been fitted with.

“Earth to disco ball. Get in the damn car already.”

“It’s disco diva to you, giant cocksicle.”

He laughs at that and is still grinning when you slide into the passenger seat beside him.

“You’ve got some mouth on you, kid.”  Was that acceptance?  Admiration? Whatever it was it looked good on him.

“Yeah, you know you want my mouth.”  It sounded better in your head but now that it’s out it can’t be taken back.  Barnes looks a little frowny but at least he’s got nothing to say so you can quietly die in peace.

Can someone cringe so much they die?  You might find out.

The mission is surveillance.  Low-key observations of a facility out in Nova Scotia that makes products for iGoddess, a beauty company owned and run by Gabrielle Porter, the niece of one Alexander Pearce, crime syndicate king-pin and scumbag extraordinaire.

You know the company; you buy their stuff.  Well, you do now you can afford it and it’s not wasted under the scent of cat urine and bleach.  How can a company so devoted to making women feel special and empowered be mixed up with drugs, weapons and human trafficking?  Fucking bullshit, that’s what it is.

Bucky had ditched the car in the parking lot of a lake-side leisure and visitors centre about fifteen miles away, and with gaudy waterproof outerwear over your tac gear, you had begun the hike that would set you smack-bang in the middle of nowhere good.  Posing as hikers had been Tony’s brief but you’re cold and bored, and your body aches from being on the solid ground.

You’re both lay just behind the crest of a hill a little way away from your target building.  Bucky mutters his observations into his comms as you look through your own binoculars trying to see what he’s looking at.  He’s talking guard numbers and movements, the weapons they carry, security features and people entering or leaving the facility. It’s no use, you’re not cut out for this.  Surveillance is soul destroying.  You’d rather be interred in Tony’s kitchen, at least there’s coffee there.

Not even an hour in and you’re itching to get up and move around.  The hike had gotten your blood pumping but now you’re going stir-crazy, joints tingling with the need for motion.

Boring.  Boring.  But at least you can entertain yourself.  Where there’s light there’s beauty and you tease the air through your gloves, finding that your skin doesn’t need to be bare for you to create the effect.  Well whadd’ya know.

“There’s movement.” Bucky warns.  “Looks like some of the guards are exiting the compound.”

You snort, they’re probably bored too.

“A Jeep and a couple of motorbikes, moving quickly.”

“Sounds like they’re going home.”  You mumble, focused on the lights in your hand.

“They’re headed this way.” He curses.  “Grab your- What the HELL are you doing?”

Bucky tackles you to the ground from where you were on your knees almost at the hill’s crest.

“Asshole!”  You’re trying to get away from him but he pins you to the ground.

“I’m the asshole?” He complains as he rolls off you, sliding down the hill on his ass, shoving his gear unceremoniously into his backpack. “Mission compromised.”

“What happened?” Tony’s disembodied voice doesn’t sound happy.

“We were spotted.”  At the bottom of the hill, Bucky starts picking a path through the rocks and small fissures hidden by the wild grass and heathers. A quick glance back tells him you’re not following; you’re caught.

“Uh, hi, guys.”  You chuckle nervously as one of the guards levels an assault rifle at you.  “Would you believe we’re winners of a free weekend iGoddess Spa?”

Bucky is livid.  If it had just been him, he could have taken them out and escaped, but, no.  Tony had to insist that he bring you, show you the ropes, look after you.  Babysit you.

He snorts.  You don’t need a minder you need to be put in a padded room where you can’t inflict any more of your weird bullshit on him. Fucking rainbows.  What kind of skill is that, other than one that gets you caught?

Eight hours ago you were both doing great.  There’d been some small-talk in the car, he’d opened up a little and you’d responded. Even on the hike over you’d been great, your filthy mouth was a source of much amusement for him, and you’d listened. His instructions were followed close enough to the letter, and he was happy.  Everything was good.

Now it’s all fallen to shit and he’s locked up in a heavy-duty restraint chair that brings back memories of dark places and dark times for him.  To his side, you’re slumped forward in a regular wooden chair, cable-ties binding your wrists and ankles to the wood, pulling at your skin, making your hands and feet turn blue.  How the hell are you both supposed to get out of this?

He’s watching the movements of your chest that tell him you’re still breathing.  The cut on your head has stopped bleeding but you’re drooling blood-tainted saliva down your grey rash-guard.  Both of you had been stripped down to your undergarments and checked for hidden weapons.  He was the first to be incapacitated as they’d used you as leverage, holding a gun to your head until he complied, stripped, and submitted to the chair. When they’d took away your gear you’d fought and Bucky had seen red; he’d strained against the chair until the butt of a gun to the head had put a stop to that.  When he came to you were out cold, beaten and bloody.  How hard had you fought?

Your feet and hands are turning purple now.  The weight of your body pulling the restraints against your skin is making the plastic ties dig deep, cutting off the circulation.

“Y/n?”  Bucky hisses, hoping the noise doesn’t prompt the guards to come back.  “Y/n! Wake up!”

The room you’re in looks like an interview room.  Two-way mirror, camera in the corner, reinforced door with heavy-duty locks that were strangely not engaged.  It’s grey and cold, and the only things in the room are the two chairs and you two. The device Bucky is locked into is bolted into the floor; a permanent feature, like they expected him or maybe Steve. He tests the chair again.  It creaks but doesn’t give.  He’d have to really put some brute strength into it to break out, and that would create too much noise.  He’d wait.

“Y/n!”  A little louder now, and you stir.

He keeps talking to you, just bullshit words, what he wants for dinner, what film he’s going to watch when he’s home safe.  Anything to help draw you back to consciousness.

“You wana watch a film with me, y/n?”  He thought for sure you’d tell him to go fuck himself.

You moan, head lolling as you come back to him.

“Hey!  Rainbow Brite!”

“Fuck you.”  It’s a whisper but he’ll take it.

“There she is.”  He allows himself a relieved smile.  “C’mon, sweetheart.  I need you to sit up for me.  Take the weight off those ties before there’s any permanent damage.”

It takes a few more moments before you can shuffle yourself properly into the chair, then you’re flexing your hands and feet to get the blood moving again.

“Oh-god-it-hurts-so-fucking-bad!”  You are practically wailing as the pins and needles sensation in your extremities reaches a peak.  The slightest movement now sends a cacophony of intense pain into your limbs.

“It’ll be over soon.” Bucky sooths.

“Why are you being nice to me after I got us caught?”  You eye him suspiciously, flapping your hands to rush the blood into your fingers.  Rip the band aid off.  “Is this some kind of prank?  Ohhhhhhh!  This is an initiation isn’t it?  Oh, I see. Where’s Iron Doosh?  Hey!  Tony!”

“Would you shut up?  This is real.  We’re really captured.”  Bucky hisses.

“Tony Stank, Skank, Spah-hank.”  You sing-song as you struggle against your restraints, examining your bound feet through spread knees.  “I hope this is one of the chairs from his good dining set.”  You stand, leaning forward and centring your weight above your bent knees.

“What are you doing?”

“Just need to…”  You shuffle over to the mirror.

“No, y/n, wait!” Bucky begs.  “Don’t break the glass.”  His frantic expression says the rest.  Your feet are bare and you’ll shred yourself to ribbons.

“What?  You’re crazy.  Why would I do that?”  You chuckle, amused that he’s so worried.  “There’s no one in there.”  You wink at him.  “They’d be in here by now if there were.”

You shuffle a bit more and grunt as you throw yourself backward to the ground.  The chair cracks but doesn’t break.

“Fuck!”  You struggle some more, grunting and groaning like a butch female tennis player in a grand slam.  One of the arms loosens and you fight against the wood until you get your left hand free, then you’re reaching into your hair for a bobby pin to jam into the clasp of the cable tie on your right arm.

Moments later, you���re free and rushing to Bucky who is fighting against his own restraints. There’s sweat beading on his bare chest and his hair is sticking to his forehead.  A quick swipe of your hand clears his brow and he stills, watching you as you search the chair for whatever mechanism has him trapped.

“There’s a big red lever at the back.”  You muse. “You think it’s an ejector seat?” A cheeky wink.  “If I sit in your lap we can both go for a ride.”  You don’t have time for giggling and flirtation, but you do it anyway.

“Y/n.”  Bucky chastises lightly.

“What?  This is every girl’s wet dream.  Every, damn, girl.”  You mumble as you grip the handle.  “And I can’t even enjoy it.”

“Just pull the damn thing already.  We don’t have time to mess around.”

“Pity.”  You tug the lever and a loud hiss fills the room, pressure releasing from the chair.

Bucky is on his feet and at the door before you make three steps.  He’s rubbing his right forearm where the metal clamps had bitten into his flesh, there’s blood there too, long ago dried.

“There’s movement out there.”  He has his ear to the door.  “I need a weapon, we need our gear, and we need a vehicle.”

“I need some chocolate and bottle of wine.”

“What?”

“Are we not making a shopping list?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and grabs your wrist.  “C’mon.”

With the door cracked open, Bucky can see movement at the end of the corridor; there’s a security room which is promising for retrieving your gear, but not if you want to avoid being seen.

“Stay behind me.”  He pushes you towards his back.

You look down at his bum. “No problem.”  You sigh and then you’re moving, your hand on his bare back so you can feel where he’s moving next.

Bucky suddenly shoves you down into a squat, shushing you with a finger held against his lips.  The way he moves is like water, smooth and forceful, carrying the momentum of his body towards a lone guard who has paused at the corner by the security room.  How he hasn’t seen you is a miracle but the man doesn’t even hear Bucky until the his own knife is slipped from its sheath and into the his temple. There’s no sound, no gurgling, not even much blood.  Bucky lowers the body to the floor and cleans the knife on the pants of the dead man.

Looking at him now, you can see why people fear him.  His expression is cold, calculating, and focused.  It’s necessary, the distance he puts between himself and the act of killing.  Even when Bucky was him, there was always a distance; a gap between him and his orders.  Now the killing is his choice and he has to live with that, there’s no excuse of mind control now.  This is all him.

The security room has one guard inside who is overpowered moments after Bucky opens the door.

Fucking amateurs, you think.  Does that room not have cameras that cover the door and surrounding corridors?

Turns out that it does and the reason the guard hadn’t seen you was because he was sexting his girlfriend.

“Sexting?”

“Yeah.  Like sex role play and talking dirty over text.”  You snort.  “Jeez, you’re old.”

“What can I say? You’re broadening my horizons.” He winks then and it’s so out of place in this grim situation that you laugh nervously.  “Sounds fun.”

“Well don’t take tips from this guy.”  You wave his phone in the air loosely.  “He’s fucking terrible at it.”

“What’s bad about it?”

You’re not sure if he means to ask that, he’s busy trying to get outside communication through the phones which seem to be keycode protected and also checking through the security feeds to see if he can find your gear and a way out of this for you both; he’s clearly distracted.  At least he’s happy now that he has a pair of handguns and a pair of knives, no weapons for you because you haven’t completed your firearms training yet.  But let’s face it, who would arm you anyway?  You were a disaster waiting to happen.

“He’s a bit of a wham-bam-thankyou-ma’am kinda guy.”  You chuckle. Bucky is going to regret starting you off down this line of conversation.  “His poor woman has probably never experienced even mediocre sex with this schmuck if his sext skills are anything to go by.”

“Too eager to bury the bone?”  Bucky sounds distant, but he is listening to you as he checks drawers for weapons, keys and anything else that might be useful.  God knows your gear was nowhere to be found.

“Check it.”  You hop up on the desk near him and scroll through the laughable chat.  You feel slightly guilty reading this guy’s private shit but he’s dead so he isn’t going to care.  Reading from the chat, you do fake voices.  “So she’s like ‘hey baby, you free tonight?  I got something for you.’ Peach emoji, cat emoji.  And he’s like ‘you off your period? Can we bang?’  I mean, what the fuck dude?”

Bucky is smirking when you look at him.  “What did she say?”  He straps both thigh holsters to his almost naked body.  It’s comical how he’s gearing up from salvaged stuff wearing only a pair of skin-tight spandex shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Once Bucky is packing (in more ways than one, now) you have to force your eyes elsewhere.

“’Yeah, baby! I missed you so bad.  Can’t wait to be in your arms again.’  She just wants lovin’ y’know?”  You spoke the line in a soft, breathy voice.  Fake, of course.

“And what did he say?” Bucky is checking the monitors one last time before he moves to the door.

“You like a bit of sexting? Huh, Barnes?”  You smirk, eying him mischievously.  “Living vicariously through the sexting chronicles of Captain Dick-Down over there?”

“Just looking to know what not to do if the opportunity for sexting ever arises.”  It’s light-hearted and completely unlike the grumpy Bucky you’re used to.  Maybe there was something in the air; sex pollen or something.  That’s totally a thing.  “C’mon.”  He says after a moment, eyes twinkling with mirth, soft lips pulling up to the side in a cute smile.  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

It’s comedy gold, the pair of you running the halls of an apparently secret part of the factory, him in his tight little shorts and you in your panties and spandex t-shirt over a sports bra that makes your rack look like a uni-boob.  You awkwardly tug your rash-guard down over your ass whenever Bucky is behind you and you’re thankful you didn’t wear a thong though that would be better than skid marks.  God, you hoped you’d not shat yourself when they beat you.

You barely encounter anyone until you’re almost at the warehouse; Bucky is so stealthy that even with you hindering him, he only has to subdue one foreman and drag you into a cleaning supply closet once, to avoid a pair of patrolling guards.  Not that you’re complaining, being squashed up against an almost naked super soldier gave you endless thrills, even if he was all stiff and awkward about it.

Bucky stalls before the double doors that lead to the warehouse.  There’s a heavy plastic strip curtain over the exit too, it’s almost opaque with age and hinders your view of what is beyond the meshed safety-glass of the door’s small windows.

“They know we’re coming.” He whispers to you, mere inches away. “There’s a lot of them out there and I can’t keep you safe if you disobey orders.  So, please,” he begs, “please do as I tell you.”

He begs so sweetly, you think, blushing.  But you’re not one for passing an opportunity for inappropriate comments.

“I’ll be a good girl, Daddy.”  You bat your eyelashes, feigning innocent.  “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Really?”  Bucky doesn’t know whether to blush or be annoyed. You never seem to take anything seriously; it’s always a joke, or something you can twist to your amusement. He gets doubly serious.  “If you die, it’s on me.  You think I haven’t lost enough people over the course of my very long life?  You think I want to wash your blood off my skin later tonight?  Bury you alongside all the other people lost to some fight or other in the name of SHIELD or the Avengers?  I can’t save you if you don’t want to be saved.”

You watch him as he fervently tries to convey the dire nature of your situation, desperate to make you understand that he doesn’t want you to die here, he cares.  His eyes are piercing and your heart is a ricocheting bullet in your chest.  What if you don’t make it out ok?  What if this is it for you?  Both of you? Suddenly, you’re acutely aware that Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, Fist of HYDRA come Fist of Victory, has cleared himself a little spot in your fucked-up soul, and is there to stay. You don’t want him to get killed because of you, but there’s nothing you can do, you’re not trained for this, or at all really.

You nod once, not trusting your voice in that moment.  You could choke on your words or you could vomit all over yourself.  It’s a lottery, so you say nothing.

“Good girl.”  He gives your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Stay behind me.  Be quick, keep low, don’t hesitate, and for Christ’s sake no disco ball.”  There’s a small smile tempting the corners of his lips, like he’s saying he forgives you for getting you both into this mess.  “Ok, sweetheart, lets go.”

Out in the warehouse there’s a whole host of guards and workers, patrolling and overseeing shipments being loaded into lorries.  It look like it’s important, and probably why the majority of the facility is clear of security staff; the merchandise is being moved.

It’s a mad dash, crouching low as you ghost around the edge of the warehouse.  The huge rows of stacks are packed full of boxes and crates, further obscuring your movement around the area.  Bucky is silent, especially since he’s barefoot; he’s every bit the assassin he’s hyped to be, but you can’t take him seriously padding around almost naked with the top of his crack showing and his junk all jiggly in the front.

A radio crackles to life. Three personel down.  Prisoners have escaped.  Cameras last caught them headed your way.  

They must have found the bodies.

“They’re in here somewhere.” A man says, loud and authoritative. “Search the rows, shoot to kill. They’re not low-life mob goons, they’re Avengers and can’t be allowed to live.”

Well that settles that, you think, gone are the chances of mere bodily harm.  It’s death or death.

You watch in awe as Bucky scales a nearby stack to stalk one of the patrolling guards.  When his opportunity arises he yanks the man up by the throat, snapping his neck in the process.  You can’t help but admire that metal arm, so sleek and powerful.  You groan, light and lusty, earning you a concerned look from the owner of said appendage.

Killing that guard has yielded an assault rifle, another knife and another handgun.  You’d think Bucky would be too smart to arm you but apparently he’s not.  Silently he points to his eye and then to the gun where he shows you how to turn off the safety, puts the gun in your hand and moves behind you to adjust your grip. He aims for you, pressing his chest against your back and you swear you can feel his junk against your ass.  Once he’s satisfied that you aren’t going to injure yourself, he’s gone from behind you, crouching low at the end of the row.

He grabs another guard and drags him backward.  The struggle is louder than he would have liked, and the man got out a partial shout before his throat was closed forever but Bucky is hopeful that he can thin the numbers down enough to make it possible to get you into a truck and away safely.

Bucky shoves the newest body under the nearest stack and beckons you to him.  You both move like a two-carriage train, he’s the engine and you’re the caboose following in his wake.  He only leaves you to commit murder but you feel lost when he’s gone, cold even.  There’s something alluring about the way he uses his body and your mind drifts to other carnal things.

A hand on your shoulder makes you jump.  There’s more of a commotion going on in the warehouse now, not just the sounds of men moving goods and silently searching for two prisoners.  There are massive amounts of footfall, boots hitting the concrete at speed; bringing in reinforcements from outside.

Bucky is about to whisper in your ear when the squeal of a megaphone pierces the air; he stills with his lips almost touching your skin before pulling back with a frown.

“Sergeant Barnes?” Bucky knows that voice, he’d heard it for years, worked with it, even obeyed it on occasion.  “Save the girl.  Turn yourself in.”

You shake your head, panicked, urgent.  Don’t leave me, your eyes are saying.

A noise nearby draws Bucky’s attention and he suddenly forces you to the ground under a stack where he slots himself immediately after; the security team are searching for you, stealthily stalking the rows.  It’s cramped and dusty, the bottom shelf above you so close you can barely breathe without your back brushing the metal supports.  How Bucky fits is beyond you, the man is a beefcake, all bulk and magnificently defined muscle.  Thinking of him naked is the only thing that keeps you from succumbing to claustrophobia. Something brushes your hand and you jolt, eyes snapping to meet his.  He grasps your hand properly and gives it a reassuring squeeze.  In your chest, something gives.  Maybe your permafrost heart is thawing, maybe you’re about to have a stroke, maybe you really like him.

When the coast is clear, Bucky pulls you free and you emerge into a different row, one with fewer boxes, one you’ll likely be spotted in.  You can just see the massive doorway of the warehouse, double sliding doors like a hangar, several half loaded trucks and maybe forty men with body armour and guns.  One guy in the middle is wearing a full-face helmet with a white skull etched across the features.

“Holy shit!  Is that Punisher?”  You hiss before Bucky can clamp his hand over your mouth, the warning look on his face is stern as he leans in to you.

“Crossbones.”  He corrects you, barely audible despite the proximity.  You still don’t know who that is but he’s totally not as cool as the Punisher, so it doesn’t matter.

His hand is still over your mouth but there’s no point in struggling, you couldn’t break free of him even if you tried, so you push your tongue out and squirm it against his palm, making him recoil in disgust.  Your chuckle is silent and his frown turns to the ghost of a wry smile before his attention is fully back on the man he calls Crossbones.

Bucky is taciturn at the best of times but he’s in full diagnostic mode now, assessing the situation. His eyes flicker around the warehouse from yet another new position.  It seems like he’s trying to get you closer to the trucks but you suspect that’s what Crossbones expects.  There are more men closer to the trucks too and Bucky has already had to kill another two in the latest relocation.  The missing men haven’t gone unnoticed and Crossbones is issuing orders, plugging the gaps so you can’t escape.

“I will find you Barnes.” Crossbone’s voice sounds wet through the megaphone, like he’s salivating with excitement at the prospect of getting his hands on you both again.  “If you turn yourself in, maybe I’ll let the girl live.”

Bucky’s eyes are downcast, like he’s actually considering it, but the moment passes and Bucky’s resolve hardens.  He drags you away towards the end of the row.

“The end of this row has a direct line of sight to the exit.  I need a distraction.  Can you do that for me?”  He whispers.

You nod, lips set in determination.  “One disco ball distraction coming right up.”

“On my mark.”

The fluorescent strip lights overhead create more than enough light for you to use.  With your right hand flat against Bucky’s left shoulder blade and your left manipulating the air to create a huge show of dancing lights, you move in tandem.  Bucky steps out of hiding, keeping you just behind him with his metal arm, he surges forward squeezing off four shots.  The way his arm snaps to aim so quickly is astounding, like he has a targeting chip implanted in his brain.  Who knows, maybe he does.  Four men fall and remain still.  Another three shots, then another two and he’s pulling you into another row at a crouching run to the opposite end as he discards the empty gun and pulls out another. He’s saving the assault rifle for Crossbones.

“Again.”  He instructs gruffly.  “Can you get their eyes?”

“It’s not an exact science this, you know?”  You huff and he seems to know that you’re saying you’ll try your best.  Of course you’d try, but you don’t know much about your power, even after the few months you’d been training with the team.  If it meant you both got out of this alive, you’d flash your tits at the enemy for Christ’s sake.

You emerge again, him with the gun in his metal hand this time, stepping out with you at his back. This time they are ready for you and they start firing before Bucky gets off his first shots.  He makes a dash for a fork-lift with a huge pallet of crates sat at floor level.  He shoots his rounds in threes until the 9-round magazine is done.  The gun is discarded as you both slide behind the cover of the pallets.  Machine guns rattle, pummelling the crates with round after round.  Bucky prays the crates don’t contain munitions.

“I make fourteen down. Twenty-two left.”  His breathing smooth where your is ragged.  You curse yourself for being so unfit that even a tiny bit of stress and exertion leaves you heaving air like a couch potato made to climb stairs.  “Crossbones is a problem.”

“What do we do now?”

Bucky has two handguns, four knives and an assault rifle, you have one gun and your rainbows.  This isn’t going to go well, you think.

“You’re going to hide over there and watch the rear.”  He points to your left.

You smirk.  Now isn’t’ the time for joking.

“I’m going to thin the crowd some more and, if I can, take Crossbones out.”  He looks determined but ridiculous in his underpants, dusted with dirt and debris from the floor that’s stuck to the slightest bit of moisture on his skin.  “This might not work.  Run to the left, hide in the stacks again, stay down and don’t expose yourself.”

You nod and he readies himself to break cover.  The shooting has stopped now and it sounds like the guards are changing positions again. His muscles clench, coiling ready to spring.

“Wait!”  You stop him with a hand on his arm, the metal is unnervingly cool.  Tension builds.  “I wanna fuck you until you pass out.”

“Ummmm.”  Bucky blinks, eyebrows raised in surprise but he’s smiling.  “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, well, no, but, uhhhh.”  You splutter, this hadn’t gone well at all.  “I couldn’t let you go without telling you, you know, what Captain Dick Down said to his girl.  You asked, for future reference, and all.”

“Oh.  Right.”  He frowns, turning away again.  “Move when I do.”  He orders stiffly, preparing to move.

Well, shit!

“Bucky, wait.”  Your voice is softer this time, tears prickling your eyes.  There’s a chance that neither of you will make it through this and it’s suddenly hit you that there’s something missing.

“What now?”  He grumbles, turning to find you closer than he expected.

You surge forward, cupping his jaw in your hands as you capture his lips in a kiss that’s both urgent and needy.  You don’t care if he doesn’t respond, you need to feel this before it’s too late. All this tension between you, the jibes and snarky banter, it’s unresolved and sexual in nature.  You want him, and if this is all you can have then so be it.  One stolen moment before it all slips through your fingers, and you both go to your graves.

You’re already pulling back when he snaps back to attention, quickly pulling you back for another kiss. His tongue delicately touches between the seal of your lips and you sigh with longing.

“You ready?”  You pull away but he’s still clearing his head, trying to focus again.

On your feet you’re running out, pumping your legs as fast as you can, heading to the wrong place. Machine guns stutter to life and Bucky is on your heels a second later, fear contorting his features as he scoops you up in his metal arm and returns fire almost blindly.  He’s shielding your body with his own and yips like a wounded pup when the bullets find him.

On your knees beneath the curved shield of his back you see the enemy are far closer than you thought. Everything in you yelled stop and you felt the pressure rise through your body and out, cascading off you like a roiling storm.

The bullets stop but the guns are still firing, muffled by the thickness of the air.  Despite the pain in his lower back and hip, he turns to see what’s happening.  Bullets sluggishly pushing through the air like flies in syrup, all but stopped and slightly redirected on a path that will take them away from a central focal point that is you.  You’re doing this, shielding you both as if by some miracle, your power not only refracting the light causing rainbows but acting like a forcefield.

“As much as I have to break up this little party, I really can’t have you killing my friends.”  The voice of Tony Stark is heard a second before the Iron Man himself and several of his Iron Legion appear and shoot each and every remaining guard with a taser disc, stunning them into unconsciousness.

Crossbones is a different matter and is somehow resistant to the zapping he just got.  He levels a grenade launcher at the stacks near where you and Bucky are crouched and fires.  No air shield will save you from all of that falling metal, but Bucky is still fast despite his wounds.  There’s blood running down his leg in rivulets as he pulls you to safety, and shields you instinctively with his body once more while the sound of explosions and grinding metal fill the air.

“I did not know I could do that.”  You praise yourself.

“I still got shot.”

“It’s just a flesh wound.” You snort.  “Walk it off.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine, you know that?”

“I must be something special if you took one in the ass for me.”  You wink.  “I hope it heals puckered, then you’ll have two rusty bullet holes.”

“STARK!”  He shouts but pulls you closer to him.  “Evac for one.  She’s walking hom-owwww!”  You pinch the skin on the inside of his thigh viciously enough that he shoves you out of his embrace.

You both stay close on the Quinjet home.  Bucky had been confused as to how Stark had known to mount a rescue mission but when you produced Captain Dick Down’s phone from your uni-boob bra it all became apparent. All of the comms in the facility had been locked down but that was a personal device, one that probably wasn’t allowed to be carried.  Good old Captain Dick Down.

The facility had been put to a far worse use than drugs and weapons trafficking.  iGoddess was a front for human trafficking and also human experimentation.  The restraint chair they had strapped Bucky into had been used to restrain test subjects; Alexander Pearce was trying to replicate the super serum that made Steve and Bucky what they were.

“So, this was a win for us.” Steve said in the debrief.  “Our intel was lacking but it worked out in the end.”

“Says you who didn’t get shot in the ass cheek.”  Bucky grumbled, shifting cautiously on the Mr Glitters cushion you’d given him as a joke.

“I got to see some wonderful scenery,” you grin brilliantly, “so I’m not complaining.”

There had been no further discussion about the kiss you and Bucky had shared when you thought you might die in that place, but that’s ok.  Your daily thrills are made up of making him squirm, and since you two had become closer since your ordeal, you have had several of moments like those.  There’s plenty of time and you’re prepared to play the long game, starting with your newest idea.  You pull out your phone and casually write a text while Steve is rambling on about seized research and assets.

[I’m so turned on right now].

Bonus add-on for this work:  Captain Dick Down - External link to AO3

Because apparently 7k words wasn’t enough and I just had to try my hand at a little text chat/social media piece.  It’s more of an embellishment.  Enjoy

And if you liked this story, why not try Good Ole Stuffing, a smutty follow on for the same reader/character.

#cmmsecretsanta #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #reader insert #reader with powers #marvel fanfic #powers au #my writing #cloudy's writing

[fandom-necromancer]

606. We are not going to steal someone’s dog.

This was prompted by a beautiful anon! I really had no idea how to answer this with them actually stealing a dog, what would have been funnier, but I guess Sumo has to be enough XD

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

'How the hell should we catch someone who only targets androids?' Gavin sat at his desk, ruffling his hair in frustration. He lifted his takeaway cup and took a sip - only to realise it was empty. Another growl. 'This really is just one shitshow after the next.'

'Gavin, you do realise I am an android?', Nines reminded him. ‘Don’t get this wrong, but you were specifically designed to be a soldier or cop. And you kinda scream it from a kilometre away. Don’t think you’d be good bait.’ Somehow the only thing he could hear in that was a challenge. ‘Detective, I have a plan and so far, it has a 94% chance at catching our suspect in the act.’ ‘Hey, babe, don’t “detective” me. I simply said the truth, I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, okay?’ ‘Acknowledged.’ ‘Fine. Let me hear your plan.’ ‘So, we need a more casual clothing for me, something fancier for you-‘ ‘Hey!’ ‘Your high-school acting classes, a thirium-refill for me so I can cry and a dog.’ ‘Okay, what the phck have you planned?’ Gavin didn’t need his coffee anymore. He was awake now. ‘And a dog? Where the hell should we get a dog? And why?’ ‘There are a lot of dogs in Detroit.’ ‘Nines, we are sure as hell not going to steal someone’s dog!’ ‘I could ask my brother whether we could borrow Sumo.’ Gavin couldn’t believe it. And he couldn’t understand why he was allowing this to happen. ‘That beast? You said a dog, not a horse! Phck, Sumo is the biggest, fattest monster of a dog I’ve ever seen!’

‘Heard you were talking shit?’, Hank hollered over, before standing up and joining them, much to Gavin’s disdain. ‘Scared, Gavin?’, Nines smirked, lacing his hands. ‘What? No! But just saying, the suspect might be.’ ‘When I meet them, Sumo won’t be at the scene any longer.’ ‘Ugh…’ ‘What the hell you guys talking about? What do you plan with my dog?’, Hank finally intercepted. ‘Could we borrow Sumo for a walk?’, the android asked as if that was the normal thing to do. ‘We want to raise the attention of a dealer for a new android drug. Sumo is an essential part of the plan, but he won’t be in danger at any time, I assure you.’ ‘Nines? You have to tell me more about your plan. But otherwise I am happy to have an evening free for me and Con.’ ‘Damn, Hank, can it get any more inappropriate?’, Gavin groaned. ‘Hey, idiot just because an evening alone for you means you two spend it on top of each other in bed, doesn’t mean it has for others!’

‘Okay, essential part of the plan my ass. What the hell is it with the dog?’ Gavin was struggling to keep the leash in hand and next to Nines as the massive beast was pulling him forwards down the sidewalk. Why was it him who had to put up with Sumo, when Nines was the stronger one? Oh, the droid had to be wheezing inwardly at the ridiculous sight. ‘Statistically speaking, around 90% of all androids prefer animals over humans. 80% like dogs. This is common knowledge and will make the scene look even more authentic.’ ‘Ugh, you better not get into trouble, I can barely control him now, don’t even think I can dog-sit and save your ass.’ ‘I think as important as it is to you, I would suppose you could multitask in that case.’ ‘Phck, just let’s get this over with, before the humour gets even worse. There is a reason why I have cats!’

'God, I just hope you are right', Gavin sighed as Sumo allowed him a bit of downtime. 'This is the dumbest stunt I ever pulled to catch one of these bastards!' 'It will work, believe me!' They entered the park, it was late evening and there weren't many people around. Just others walking their dogs - the main reason Gavin had cats. Thinking once he finally was home, he would have to get his ass up again and walk around with it, he shuddered. Yeah, cats were more his kind of animal.

Gavin knew it was about to start as Nines snaked an arm around him at the entrance and took the dog's leash. He wanted to melt into it like he always had, then remembered this was a mission, not just a really awkward date at the park. He tensed in the grip that got harder as if he wanted to be anywhere but here. They managed to walk a quarter of the path around a little lake until Nines gave him the signal to start with their “fight“. He had to have spotted their suspect. Gavin couldn't tell, it had become dark fast as phck. Gavin started squirming more, making it believable by imagining it was Connor instead of Nines who held him in an embrace. Then he finally broke free and screamed: 'What the phck, toaster? What did you think?' It was surprising how well Nines slipped into his part: the worried, emotional android only recently introduced to mankind. 'What do you mean? Gavin? What's wrong?' 'What's wrong?' Oh yeah, Gavin was terrible at playing a role, but being angry he could fake real good. 'What's wrong? Don't you think it could be in any way weird to tell my mother we are together?' 'I thought she knew. I thought you told her.' 'Yeah, of phcking course, I tell my mother I'm with a damn android. She would - will kill me!' 'But does that matter? We still have each other!' 'Yeah, well I wanted to stay connected with my family. This was supposed to stay a secret!' 'Well, I don't want someone who is ashamed of me!' 'Fine! I'll go home and pack my things!' Gavin doubted this poor display of trash TV would prompt anyone to sell some drugs, but well, Nines was the supercomputer, not him. 'And I'm taking the dog with me!' He grabbed Sumo's leash and ripped it out of Nines' hand. Then he angrily stomped away towards the exit.

He kept up the pretence until he was out, then he slowed down and petted Sumo, before continuing down the street. It wasn’t too long until Gavin heard something over his phone. Mostly leaves rustling in the Wind and a few people faraway talking to each other. But when Nines had begun broadcasting his hearing to him, it had to mean something was about to happen around him. Gavin waited as the dog pissed against a lamppost and listened. ‘What an asshole, am I right?’ There was shifting of clothes and Gavin supposed it was Nines sitting up. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘I’m sorry, I listened in. Your partner is a real asshole if you ask me.’ ‘No, I… He wasn’t like that before…’ ‘Well, then he showed his true face now.’ ‘I don’t know… Normally he’s really lovely. Maybe I really did something wrong.’

God, it was awful listening in. This was about as cliché as it could get. ‘No. Someone who loves you, would do so openly and unconditionally. And if it were a family worth keeping, they would respect that choice, too.’ ‘Yes. That sounds right.’ ‘Just forget that asshole!’ ‘But I still love him… it hurts.’ ‘I think I know something that will make you feel better buddy!’

Gavin perked up his ears, getting pulled along by the dog again. ‘What is this?’, Nines asked, as if he wouldn’t already know. ‘Ah, just a little gift. It’ll make you feel better, believe me. And if you want more, you know where to find me!’ There was more ruffling of clothes and the next line from the dealer came from farther away: ‘And good luck on getting that dog back, he looked like a real cutie!’ Gavin ruffled the “cutie’s” fur and carefully watched out for any slobber. God, he would never be persuaded to get himself a dog in his life.

‘Gavin, you hear me?’ Yep, he texted fast. ‘We now have no longer a suspect, but a criminal to pursue. Now did the plan work or no?’ Gavin rolled his eyes at the smugness. Yeah, congratulation, it worked. Now come here and get that beast under control I’ll bring the evidence to the precinct n stuff. ‘Aww, you hurt, Gav?’ Cut it or I really tell my mom about you. Believe me, she would love you and you would very quickly learn to hate her! ‘No, please don’t do that by any chance. I’m coming as quickly as possible, just spare me of your mother!’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #Sumo dbh #does this already count as a case fic? #I wanted Sumo to play a bigger role but I failed #Maybe I'll do a funny one when I actually have ideas #currently just surviving but I manage #Gavin is me again #I love dogs but I could never have one because I'm a lazy ass person if I'm allowed to be #Also for the German people here: RTL Nachmittagsprogramm vom feinsten

[rosaline-kei]

Don’t Go - Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin nor the characters.

Parts: 「1」「2」「3」

Chapter 3′s Title: Stay

Synopsis: Even after what was thought to be the end of the chaos, Mikasa Ackerman struggles with conflict, confusion and her emotions. The Raven plans to leave for the Kingdom of Hizuru—without a proper goodbye to Eren Jaeger. What is she running away from? What is she afraid of? Are apologies enough to heal? (Contains Manga Spoilers)

Prompt Summary (from a user): The reunion of Eren and Mikasa after Eren comes back from Grisha’s memories. Even though Eren’s head got blown away xD, I think that he will transform into his Titan Form. After reading the latest chapter I Think Eren will apologize to Mikasa for everything he did to her after the time-skip and will probably tell her not to join that Kiyomi and the Hizuru Kingdom. Thank you!!!

Eren wouldn’t let Mikasa leave for Hizuru because he knows that she loves him and that her love has nothing to do with her Ackermann genetics.

Takes Place after the war is finally settled. When Eren apologizes to Mikasa and Armin and ofc to all the members of the 104. Squad

I don’t think that Mikasa will accept his apology immediately since she is the Person that got hit the hardest by Eren’s deeds and especially his words in chapter 112

Rated: T

Read it also on / Leave a Review at:

Ao3 or FF net

Author’s Note (READ AFTER READING CHAPTER 3): Phew! Finally done with this mini-series! I might add an epilogue when I have time haha. And lol, Kiyomi and her ship cutting off Eren words. Who knows what he was going to say… hm. Oh well haha >:). On another note, I hope this was an okay last chapter! 

Eren was now running.

The moment he heard the key unlocking his damn cell, he sprinted away and towards the docks. Clenched in his fist were a red scarf and a piece of paper where Armin jotted down the exact location where Mikasa would be at.

As he ran, he began to remember the things Armin said to him the other day…

The things he said about Mikasa.

But before his thoughts could dive any further, he spotted a figure standing at the docks, which he didn't fail to recognize immediately.

"M…Mikasa!" He called out hastily.

He hoped it wasn't too late.

The figure turned, and his pair of emerald orb finally meets her obsidian orbs that soon widen in shock.

"E-Eren?!"

-

As Eren was running, what Armin said about Mikasa the other day had come flashing in his mind.

"…How do you know I'll be able to stop her…?" Eren mumbled out subconsciously. Undoubtedly, he did want to stop her. He… couldn't bare the idea of her leaving, especially when he hadn't had the chance to speak to her. But given the fact she had given the red scarf back to Eren, he wasn't even sure if she wanted to see him, or if she'd even listen to him at this point.

Armin only scoffed, which was followed by a small smile that formed on his lips. "Because you're Eren Jaeger… you would never let someone you care about so deeply, leave for a reason like that."

When Armin had said those words, Eren heaved a heavy sigh as he clenched onto her red scarf tightly. “I can never win an argument with you, you know that?”

The blonde smirked. But before he could respond, Eren continued. “But I have to admit, I’m a little scared…”

It astounded Armin, it really did. It astounded how this man who brought the chaos to an end, who threw his humanity away for the sake of others was scared. Though, it couldn’t be helped.

“Before you say something sarcastic or taunting,” Eren spoke, as if he had predicted his friend’s next few words and actions, “I just… I mean, you’re right. I’m not the type to easily give up.”

Armin raised a brow, “So what’s the problem?” He queried.

Eren’s eyes briefly looked towards the scarf, before turning and facing back to Armin. “What if she hates me? Though, if she does, I deser—”

“Eren.” Armin stopped him before he could’ve completed his sentence. “Stop doubting. By now, you should very well know how she feels, right?”

And when Eren didn’t respond immediately, he continued. “Do you love Mikasa?”

The moment that question left the lips of the blonde, he instantly turned away from him, facing one of the brick walls that confined him. Though, the blue-eyed male had already caught a glance of the brunette’s widened emerald hues.

That question was so familiar, and Eren knew why.

What am I to you, Mikasa?

It was a question he had asked.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the same question. But both questions were similar in one sole thing—feelings.

Right now, as the topic of romance floated in the air, the brunette should be blushing. He should be feeling butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He should feel his heart racing at the mere thought of her.

But he wasn’t and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel those sort of emotions towards her.

He felt pain and regret for saying harsh things to her. But at the same time, if he hadn’t said those harsh things to severe their bond, he knew she’d continue to chase after him, endangering herself. The last thing he wanted was her to get tangled up into affairs that she shouldn’t be in— that he didn’t want her to be in.

I want to be the one protecting you instead. He had promised himself, back then.

He didn’t know when he caught such feelings for her. He just knew another powerful, overwhelming emotion had always belittled that little spark of touching feelings.

Revenge. Revenge and Anger were something he felt for so long. And sometimes, they tend to drown the other emotions he felt.

He now felt pain, because he wasn’t sure if these new blossoming feelings that decided to grow deserved to be reciprocated by her.

Not to mention, this was the first time he ever felt these sort of feelings. This feeling. He didn’t know how to deal with it or how to act on it.

It was all just new, too new to him.

Unknown to Eren, he had been subconsciously gripping the red fabric even tighter, as if he feared to let go. And though Armin was unable to face him now, he smiled. Because at least that could confirm something.

“The war’s finally over, Eren.” Armin started calmly, “Before you decide to lose your determination overnight, and decide to let go of her, I suggest you let go of your anger, your vengeful heart and your burden as ‘humanity’s last hope’.”

“It’s over, Eren.” Armin continued, “Let loose and sink yourself in the freedom you returned to Paradis. Open up your heart to new feelings and embrace them.” The blonde smiled a little. “Mikasa... she… most likely has a lot of things to say to you. And like I said, you’re Eren Jaeger. I’m pretty sure even if you tell yourself that it’s okay to ‘give up’, your instinct will just pull you out. Because I know Eren Jaeger wouldn’t let Mikasa Ackerman leave for a reason like that.”

When he didn’t respond, Armin turned his back, about to take his leave. He already said his part, now it was just up to Eren.

“What about you?” He finally voiced out the moment the blonde took a step away, about to leave. “Don’t you have a lot of things to say to me too?”

“Yeah,” Armin scoffed. “A lot. A lot of questions. But,” He turned, to see Eren turned towards his direction a little. He took a brief glimpse at him before turning back, and continued with his walk as he said, “But, I’m not the one leaving tomorrow, am I?”

-

Now, Eren was face-to-face with Mikasa.

There was a brief silence between the two, until Mikasa noticed the red scarf Eren held, and Eren noticed the red ruby necklace on her neck.

“Why did you bring that here?”

“Why are you wearing that?”

They both said in synch, before Eren bit his lip and Mikasa looked away.

Mikasa should’ve known Armin would’ve done something like this. A part of her wished she had trusted this scarf to a stranger to return it to Eren. Because she knew even if she had asked Connie, Jean or even that damned midget, it’d still be in his hands before she left. But then again… she couldn’t bring herself to trust a stranger to be responsible for returning that red piece of fabric.

Maybe she still cared for that scarf after all.

“Because this doesn’t belong to me.” Eren was the first to answer. “It belongs to you.” He sounded firm, and it reminded how stubborn he could be. She already knew how persistent he was going to be.

“It should be around your neck, instead of that.” He referred to the red ruby necklace around her neck, to which was to act as a welcome gift for Mikasa if she chose to return back to Hizuru. For one reason or another, Eren didn’t like the fact that that was around her neck, instead of her scarf which had been gifted by him a long time ago.

Even if Armin never told him what that red ruby necklace was or meant, he already knew. He wasn’t naïve nor so dense to not understand.

“It’s a gift.” Mikasa murmured, albeit still looking towards the ocean. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him, not now at least. “That’s why I’m wearing it.”

Eren frowned. “So is this.” He argued back, raising the scarf. But she didn’t turn around. “And it’s yours. It’s not mine, Mikasa.” He sounded softer now, and she noticed.

It ached her heart so much to hear the softer side of the brunette speak. She didn’t know how long she had last heard it… but she knew it was most likely a long time. To say she missed it was an understatement.

She felt herself slowly sinking in her vulnerability. Why did Eren had this power over her? To make her feel so…

Maybe she was a slave to him after all, to her Ackerman genes.

Mikasa chose not to say anything, in fear that she might say something that might just reveal all too much, all things that she might not even know or rather, acknowledge yet.

But, alas, Eren said some words that just made her want to reply.

“I’m sorry.” It was a personal apologise, and there wasn’t a faintest insincerity in his tone. It was a genuine apology, one of sorrow.

“For what?” She murmured, still looking away. Her question wasn’t meant to give him a cold shoulder. She was genuinely curious of what he was sorry for. And a malicious voice in her head whispered doubts in her ear, convincing her that if anything, the last thing he was sorry for was calling her a slave.

But that wasn’t the case.

“For everything.” Eren answered, and the softness in his tone remained. “I’m sorry for everything.”

Mikasa finally turned around. Though, with a distressed expression all over her face.

She had a million things she wanted to say to him. She wanted to shout at him. She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to say something in a similar soft tone to him. She wanted to speak with him gently. She wanted to cry out to him, in both anger and sadness. She wanted those feelings that she had deep down, to come out and reveal themselves.

But all that came out was one painful sentence.

“I’m still leaving for Hizuru.”

And the moment those words left her lips for Eren’s ears to hear, Mikasa saw something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

There was sadness in Eren’s eyes. Or maybe it was misery, or pain. Maybe all three. For a long time, Mikasa hadn’t seen such despondent and heart-wrenching emotions in him. Even during the war, he looked… empty. But perhaps, that was just a mask he had worn to trick the enemy. A mask so convincing that she had failed to see through it completely. And she wondered, how long had he been feeling this way? Since Sasha’s death…? Or since the day he left that conference…? Or, was it much earlier?

She recalled seeing him cry in his sleep, under a tree at the young age of nine or ten. Apparently, he had been having a bad dream that he had no recollection of. And with all these revelation about the history of Ymir and the titans, changing the future… she could only wonder what he had seen back then which had pushed him to tears.

It took Mikasa a fleeting moment to realise that her heart was beginning to ache. And she wasn’t too blur to not know why. Though, she may not fully understand why.

Seeing Eren look like that… pained her.

The words Eren had said to her back then began to ring in her ears.

What am I to you, Mikasa?

She answered, ‘family’, back then. But even back then, she knew she was just lying to herself… or rather, she found it hard to convey such complex emotions at that time. He was more than just family to her.

For a long time, Mikasa Ackerman was in love with Eren Jaeger. Despite the amount of times he had pushed her away and even hurt her feelings during the times where he had to put her in place, her love for him remained unwavering.

It wasn’t just because he saved her back then, and had given her a second chance at life. It was much more than that. She admired his strength and his determination. But at the same time, she had always feared that those two things would drive him towards a fate leading to death. He had been stubborn, hot-headed and impulsive. If he wanted something, he was going to get it no matter what. And maybe that was why the raven had been more inclined to display her protective nature towards him. Because unlike Armin, there were several times he did things without thinking twice or without logic.

Though admittedly, the Eren standing in front of her now, seemed to have outgrown that hot-tempered phase of his. He looked and seemed more mature now, if anything.

She also loved him because of the warmth he gave her. He taught her how to live, and gave her comfort during tough periods in life. Though, he might not know this. He always did such… touching things without knowing that he did.

But the day he called her a slave, she felt the coldness sweep over her, extinguishing most, if not all the warmth he had given her. Even if he had come out and told the truth, that he hadn’t meant anything he had said, and that it was all just a part of his scheme to achieve the peace and freedom that everyone had now… the hurt remained. And Mikasa wanted to get away from it.

She wasn’t sure if her supposedly unwavering love had been extinguished along with his warmth at that time, but she knew she felt one thing back then: pain.

The man she came to love had called her a slave, and had also more or less claimed that any feelings she had held for him were all due to some Ackerman instinct and genetics. And then she felt another emotion: confusion. She couldn’t believe that this man who taught her how to live, threw her off to suffer in some sort of identity crisis.

Even till now, she was still confused. Because now, in the present, she didn’t know what she felt for him. Perhaps she did still have that unwavering love for him, because deep down, even at that time, a tiny flame in her heart which had survived from the brunette’s sudden coldness, had refused to believe that that man was the boy she grew up with, the boy she came to love and the boy who willingly saved her. That small part of her refused to believe that that was Eren Jaeger talking. As for the majority part of her… it had all sunken into despair, believing this fake truth he had said about the Ackerman genetics.

His words had bothered her so much to the extent that she had even reached out to that midget during Eren’s detainment after the war.

“Hah? Slave? Ackerman genetics?” Levi had scoffed. “I don’t know what that shitty brat is talking about. But as long as you’re a living, breathing thing, you have the choice of freedom, nobody else dictates that. They can throw you in a shitty dirty cage, but as long as you keep fighting and refuse to submit, you’re no longer tied down or trapped.”

Perhaps if Mikasa prolonged the conversation, her glum mind-set would’ve changed just a little from that Ackerman talk. But instead, she only nodded, murmured a thanks as she made her way towards the door. And all she thought was this: Can slaves even fight back?

Before she left his office, almost as if he read her mind, Levi said one last thing to her, “Oi, gloomy brat.” Mikasa paused in her steps briefly, and maybe if she hadn’t been in a sullen mood that day, she’d have retorted and called him a shortass. “You’re not a slave.”

Armin had also told her that. To no avail, the raven was still… uncertain. And she still didn’t know why. To reiterate, after Eren’s apology and revelation that he had been fooling the enemy all along, she then had some sort of awareness that the things he said back in that room were all fake, that it was just a façade. So why? Why did she still feel so—

“You’re not a slave, Mikasa.” That was Eren talking.

Perhaps, pain can blind people, and maybe it blinded Mikasa from accepting the fact that she wasn’t a slave to her genetics. Emotions have strong powers like that.

The raven’s eyes widened and before she knew it, her own pain began to pool in her eyes. She was crying.

“I’m sorry for calling you that. I… didn’t realise the extent it’d have affected you.” Eren murmured as he took a singular step forward, only for the raven to take a step back. He bit his lip. If he had known his words would’ve hurt her so deeply, then maybe he would’ve said something else.

Mikasa suddenly felt anger arising in her, accompanied by other emotions she had been bottling up ever since Eren came back to their side. Or maybe, ever since a longer time. And all those emotions, came out in her scream.

“You’re… just saying that!” She cried, “Armin told you to say that didn’t he?!” Mikasa already knew the amount of opposition her childhood friend had of having her leave like this. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had convinced Eren to say things like that for the sake of her staying. For all she knew, this was a lie, too.

Those words he had said—about her not being a slave—were something she wanted to hear from him for quite a while now. She didn’t think she’d have actually heard it. So when he had actually said it… she couldn’t believe it. She found it hard to believe. She was still in denial that he actually ran for her, to stop her from leaving.

Did he… really not see her as a slave?

“He didn’t!” The brunette fiercely retorted, “He told me you were leaving! I came here to stop you out of my own will! How… How could I let you leave like this? How could you leave without even saying a goodbye? Before I could ever have a chance to talk to y—”

“I…! I… I was afraid, Eren. Afraid.” She finally admitted, having cut him off, “I’m a coward, fine I admit that. I am running away from you. Isn’t this what you want?”

Eren blinked in disbelief. “Since when did I ever say that I wanted you to leave—”

“If I leave you, then I’m not a slave to you anymore right? I won’t be tied down to my Ackerman instincts anymore, right? If I am away from you then—”

Mikasa halted in her sentence mid-way upon noticing that his sad eyes were now leaking tears. He was crying too. Seeing Mikasa like this… just made Eren feel so sad, because he had unintentionally made her this way—that she still thought she was a slave. He had wanted to protect everyone, her included, so desperately. He wanted to save everyone from being trapped, he wanted to give everyone freedom beyond the walls. And yet, he failed to do so for the person he had cared for so deeply.

“I’m sorry.” He said again, but with more anguish that Mikasa didn’t fail to notice. “But Mikasa… you’re not a slave. Really, you aren’t. What I said back then… about you clinging to me because of your genetics… it isn’t true. It was never true. I know. I know you did that ever since we were kids because you cared.”

Eren was no longer blind to what Mikasa felt or what she had done for him all this time. He wasn’t a little reckless boy anymore, for the most part at least.

When she didn’t respond he continued, “And… ever since we were kids, Mikasa… I…”

Those familiar words caused her eyes to widen, they sounded extremely familiar and she knew why.

It was those words that had been haunting her for quite a while now. And she began to tremble, because she was afraid of what he might say next.

Ever since we were kids, Mikasa. I’ve always hated you.

She was afraid that he was going to say that next. But she was wrong, so wrong.

“I’ve never hated you. Not even once. Even when I shouted at you, I’ve never hated you.” It was the honest tone he had and the fact he had sounded so genuine that convinced her that this was the truth. From the way his eyes were still watery, from the way that his eyes still looked so soft… that she knew he wasn’t lying about that. And Mikasa didn’t take a step back this time.

“I don’t know when it was… when it all started… but Mikasa, for a while now… I… I—” Eren was cut off by the sound of a ship’s horn. Immediately, the two young adults turned to the ocean to see a ship with the same crest that was carved into Mikasa’s skin approaching.

The sun slowly began to wake up, and Eren didn’t have much time left before the ship approached the shores of Paradis.

“Please don’t go.” He quickly said. “Is… freedom what you want?” He suddenly asked.

Mikasa only looked back towards him, with tears still streaming down her face. She didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Why did emotions have to be so complicated?

But to Eren’s question, the answer was obvious enough. Who wouldn’t want freedom?

“Then stay, please.” He was pleading. “I…I will take away whatever pains you. I will remove the pain I gave you. I… I’ll make you happy, Mikasa. I won’t make you sad anymore. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for pushing you and everyone away. I wanted to carry this burden alone, so you and everyone else wouldn’t suffer. I wanted to finally put an end to everything, and achieve freedom. That’s why I said what I said. To severe bonds, because I didn’t want to risk any of you. And I regretted it. I still regret it… what I said to you. I didn’t think it’d… I… Mikasa, you are not a slave. You were never and will never be one. You… you are an amazing person, Mikasa. You… are free now, here, so don’t let my stupid and untrue words trap you.”

And just like that, she began to cry even more. Not because she still felt like he was lying. But because for the first time for as long as she could remember, her heart felt something other than pain from him. It felt touched.

And then, she felt a warm piece of fabric began to wrap itself around her neck. It felt nostalgic. This warmth was nostalgic. She missed it. She craved it. She loved it. It had always comforted her during cold times. Though, unlike last time, it seemed the matured male knew how to tie her red scarf more properly this time. “Remember… that time? When I said I’d wrap this around you as many times as you want.”

She nodded slowly. And before Eren could continue with his sentence, Mikasa murmured a question, “Why… do you want me to stay?”

Eren smiled a little, yet it looked so sorrowful. Shouldn’t it be obvious why?

“Because, Mikasa… you mean a lot to me, and I don’t want to let you go.” He mumbled softly, and he slowly closed the distance between them. The raven grew nervous, her heart was palpitating—and suddenly, she found herself melting in his warmth the moment she felt his sudden embrace.

When was the last time he had hugged her? The last time she remembered, the younger Eren was always bashful and shy towards hugs, so he was barely the one doing the hugging.

“You’re more than family to me, Mikasa…” He whispered softly into her ear, and Mikasa couldn’t tell if it was because of her scarf that her cheeks suddenly felt warm. “Mikasa… I… I l—”

“Sorry to ruin the moment!” A voice erupted, and interrupted the two. Reluctantly pulling away, the two turned to see Kiyomi Azumabito’s ship having reached their docks.

How long had they been there already…? It seemed like the two of them had been too caught up in the moment. The sun was already up.

Despite the fact the raven now wore her red scarf, Kiyomi’s eyes had been sharp enough to notice the red ruby necklace she wore underneath it. “Ah, so I see you’ve accepted our invitation!” She exclaimed with delight. A platform was slowly lowered for Mikasa to enter the ship. “Come aboard! We don’t have all day. The earlier we leave, the earlier we’ll arrive back to your home!”

Kiyomi gave a brief hidden signal to the guards, she wasn’t going to let that boy stop her from bringing the last descendant of the Azumabito back to Hizuru. If the girl willingly wanted to return home, she didn’t want to have any hindrances that could prevent her from doing as such. Once the platform was lowered, two guards came down and awaited for her to board the ship safely.

Mikasa’s hand raised up and wiped her tears away. And slowly, she took a small step back away from Eren. “Sorry, Eren.” She murmured as she carefully and gently removed the scarf from her neck. “Hold onto this for me.” She smiled.

Eren’s eyes widened as she placed the scarf in his hands and began to walk away, towards the ship. “Mikasa?! Wait—” Before he had the chance to chase after her, the two guards immediately held him back.

“Mikasa! Wait, no! Mikasa!” He called out, his tone growing desperate after each call—the same went with his struggles. But the raven continued to walk onto the platform, up towards Kiyomi who couldn’t hide her smirk.

Now, Mikasa was one step away from entering the ship. But, that’s when she stopped. Kiyomi raised a brow. “What are you waiting for?” She said calmly. “It’s best not to associate with a man who may be regarded as a criminal.” She added, as if to clear any doubts the raven had.

Except, all her doubts had already been cleared.

“Sorry.” She apologised to Kiyomi as her hands reached for behind her neck, taking off the necklace and then handing it back to her. “I’m not going to Hizuru.” She smiled as she turned back to the brunette who stopped struggling in the guard’s grasp. “I’ll stay here. This is my home after all.”

After apologising to Kiyomi for more or less wasting her time, the money-faced woman only heaved a heavy sigh. She was disappointed. She couldn’t believe that she didn’t want to return back to Hizuru. But, she knew she couldn’t force her back against her will, the last thing she wanted was to raise tensions between her and Paradis, and maybe even with that green-eyed male. She didn’t wish to start an argument with her nor be on bad terms with her. “You’re always welcomed to visit, young one.” With that, the ship left and they parted.

Mikasa rushed over to Eren, the soft smile still plastered on her lips. “You scared me there.” He sighed as he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry.” Mikasa apologised, which was accompanied with a small light-hearted laugh. “I just wanted you to hold onto the scarf so I could return the necklace.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to say it in a way that made it seem like you were really going to leave…” He murmured, and Mikasa swore he was pouting. How long has it been since she last saw him this childish?

She then started to laugh a little, she couldn’t contain it. And it seemed Eren caught onto it as he began to laugh too.

Meanwhile, somewhere behind a tree, there stood a blonde who sighed in relief. “I guess, I was worried for nothing.” He smiled.

#don't go #my fanfic #snk fanfiction #aot fanfic #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin fanfic #shingeki no kyojin fanfiction #snk #aot #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan fanfic #eremika #eremika fanfic #eremika fanfiction #Mikaere #Mikasa x Eren #Eren x Mikasa #Mikasa #Mikasa Ackerman #eren #Eren Jaeger #armin #armin arlert

[thecursedhellblazer]

For @thedemonconstantine​​​: you didn’t ask for it, but I couldn’t resist so I delivered anyway xD

Look at our idiots together || Accepting !

JOHN & DEMON JOHN

who hogs the duvet Honestly? Both. It’s not even about the damn thing, it’s all a ruse to have an excuse to fight over something, even in a moment that’s supposed to be a quiet one. Most of the times it ends with the poor duvet being forgotten and them shoving at each other, insults flying around, hands fisted in clothes and hair. Then...one thing leads to another, up to a quite predictable finale.

who texts/rings to check how their day is going None of them. John put a tracking rune on his Other, so he always know where he is and he prefers showing up in person to check on whatever he is doing if the Copy heads off somewhere suspicious. As for Demon John, he probably calls and texts John just when his Maker is doing something that requires focusing, with the only aim of annoying the hell out of him. And he does it even if he’s sitting in the next room.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts Depends on your definition of “creative”. And of “gifts” too. Demon John makes sure to pull out embarrassing “presents” (like stuff they can use in their private time) every time John has company (mostly Tim and Chas, but there was that one time when Zatanna came to visit...Not the best way to let their ex girlfriend know that they are a thing. And that the Copy exists in the first place). John usually retaliates by dumping spells and holy water on his Other’s head, because a bit of “healthy cleansing” never harms. And, if it does, oh, “yeh asked for it, mate”. However, there are very rare moments when they are being oddly civil with each other (and every time it happens Chas starts preparing for yet another Apocalypse, because that has to be a sign) and, in such periods of truce, some actual gifts might happen. John breaks out his best bottles of wine and liquor (the expensive ones he stole or got gifted in the past, the ones he keeps for special occasions) just for the two of them, because he feels like “drinkin’ some better shite”. The Copy pops back from Hell with some rare ingredient or a small artifact he found “by chance” along his way. They never acknowledge it, but it happens.

who gets up first in the morning They tend to get out of bed (or of whatever they have been sleeping in) at the same time, for the mere reason that they have Chas coming in and kicking their asses out of bed (he tries the gentle way first, with the promise of breakfast, but it works only half of the times). If John has a case or a meeting or stuff to do in general, he might be the one to crawl out of bed and leave the Copy to laze among the sheets. Demon John doesn’t necessarily need sleep, but he does anyway because he is a lazy bastard and he likes to taunt John with that fact that he doesn’t need to be up and running while his Maker has to. Plus, maybe, very deep down, part of the truth might be that he likes sharing John’s space and sleeping with him gives him a good excuse to do so.

who suggests new things in bed They are constantly looking for ways to torment each other, so most of the times is a competition to find new ways to push each other out of their comfort zone. For now, they are both losing, because there are very few things that have turned out to be a categorical ‘no’ and, when it happens, it’s usually a shared opinion. This doesn’t stop them from trying, though. On the contrary, it spurs them on even more. 

who cries at movies None of them. Usually them watching a movie together means a ton of annoying commentary that irks everyone who happens to be around. There was this one time when they caught Chas getting emotional over a movie, though. Useless to say, the poor man didn’t hear the end of it for weeks and weeks.

who gives unprompted massages Oddly enough, John does, from time to time. They are moments when he has been drinking, but isn’t drunk just yet. The alcohol gives him that bit of liquid courage he needs to admit that he might be craving some physical intimacy that doesn’t involve having heated, complicated, perverted sex, and so he settles behind wherever the Copy is sitting and works his hands all over the Other’s back. Demon John called him out and mocked him about it at first, but he stopped the one time John got really pissed and threatened to stop doing it completely. In the Copy’s defence, no one knows how to work the knots out of your muscles better than yourself.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick No one fusses. On the contrary, whenever one of them is sick or injured (and mostly is John because, demon blood or not, he’s still human), it’s a festival of mockery and making sure the unlucky one gets even more miserable than they already are. It still happens, even if they have tuned it a bit down after an exasperated Zatanna has threatened to put a spell on them both, to make sure that when one of them gets sick, the other does too. 

who gets jealous easiest Demon John. It’s just part of his personality, considering that John has tried (and apparently failed) to shove all his worst traits inside him. The fact that they are both natural flirts doesn’t help the issue and the episodes always tend to end in very ugly fights and temporary break-ups. Useless to say, John is forced to hunt down the Copy every single time in the aftermath, because the Other goes around and wreaks havoc (out of spite, he says, but maybe that’s not all that there is to it).

who has the most embarrassing taste in music They have the same exact tastes when it comes to music, so mocking each other every time one of them gets a new tune stuck in his head is something they have quickly stopped doing after they have realised that it usually ends with the both of them having said song stuck in their heads. And, that considered, the only one who gets to tease them about it is Chas. And Tim too, if he happens to be around and in the mood.

who collects something unusual Collecting magical and cursed artifacts is part of what John does for a living. The Copy doesn’t really care for them, unless they are something that can come useful to him in some way, so he normally leaves that sort of oddity to his Maker.

who takes the longest to get ready John can take ages in the shower whenever he is too hangover to process what he is doing or hasn’t slept in days. Demon John takes ages just because he doesn’t really want to get ready for whatever they are supposed to do. Cue to Chas, waiting outside in the cab, drumming his fingers and wondering if he should just head off on his own and have them reach him once they are ready via planeswalking.

who is the most tidy and organised They are both messy as hell. John tries to keep his living space clean, but the only reason why the place isn’t a complete dumpster is because their best friend is patient enough to clean after them. Of course, double John means double mess and double trouble...And Chas should really start asking to get paid.

who gets most excited about the holidays None of them has a real definition of “holiday”. Not in the common sense of the term. For people who live their kind of life, vacations aren’t exactly common, or something they bother with in general. It happens that John decides to take some time off from actively looking for trouble, also because the troubles usually come finding him anyway, and they all go off somewhere that is supposed to be quiet (as quiet as it can be with the pair of them around). It’s not something they get excited about, but it doesn’t mean that they don’t appreciate.

who is the big spoon/little spoon Spooning isn’t something that happens often. Most of the times, they end up tangled in each other, face to face. In any case, as almost everything in their relationship, they go for switching, depending on the mood or simply on whoever has lost their latest bet. The little spoon gets an unhealthy amount of mocking all the way through it, so it’s not a position either of them really looks forward to finding himself in (unless Demon John is really in the mood of being degraded. He makes sure to lose at the games on purpose, in that case).

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports Considering that every chance is good enough to try and best each other, they both are insanely competitive at pretty much everything. They are both incredibly sore losers and cheating is their norm, which makes it an official part of the games. However, the worst happens whenever they are teaming up against some unfortunate opponent, because their competitive streaks sum up and good luck getting out of a game against them in one piece.

who starts the most arguments They both never miss the chance to have a go at the other, but Demon John tends to poke John a bit more often than the magician does. While John loves fighting, there are times when he honestly just wants to enjoy a quiet pint and instead he finds having to deal with his Other being a pain in the ass for the whole night. 

who suggests that they buy a pet Aside from John’s occasional fantasies to stash the First in the Chest that Tim has gifted him, none of them are the pet kind of person. Chas, on the other hand, would kill to get a dog or two, so, if they’d ever end up with one or with a hellhound, you know whose fault it is.

what couple traditions they have Does screwing on every surface, available or not, count as one? Aside from that, they take one night per week to go off somewhere on their own, not much for privacy but because John thinks that Chas needs some breathing space. What they do changes every time. They might go somewhere and get drunk, or go off to some other realm and wreak some mostly harmless havoc. From time to time (rarely), they head off to visit one of John’s few mates, because their reaction to the pair of them is always hilarious. Also, when they are drunk, they get the idiotic idea of impersonating each other, because they find it hilarious, for some obscure reason, and switch roles. Chas, Tim and Yoyo are beyond unimpressed.

what tv shows they watch together TV shows aren’t really their thing. At times, they just sprawl on the couch and watch whatever trash it’s airing, for the sake of being able to exchange comments or bicker over it. Watching games is more likely to happen, but in that case Chas is there with them too, and it becomes more of a buddies kind of night.

what other couple they hang out with Double dating is not even up for discussion. It can’t work because it constantly ends up with everyone feeling uncomfortable (aside from Demon John, who always laughs his ass off). There has been one time when they both stalked Chas while he was hanging out with this cute woman he had run into and the ordeal ended into a full-fledged disaster. Zatanna tried to introduce John to her current boyfriend, but of course she should have expected that he would have showed up with the Copy in tow (even if, in John’s defence, he tried to make the Other stay behind). As for whatever girl falls in love with Tim, they really don’t need more rotten luck coming in their way, so they are both forbidden to meet them as a pair.

how they spend time together as a couple Aside from the obvious (which means fucking, drinking, fighting, being a pain in everyone else’s neck), Demon John has taken up the habit of tagging along for John’s (mis)adventures. He usually isn’t very helpful, but John, on good days, appreciates the company in any case. They also go demon hunting together, from time to time, just to have a laugh out of it. The demons who already hate John’s guts are anything but pleased to find out that there are two of them now. Also, during one of his visits, Tim has suggested them this very nice pic-nic spot in Hell, set over a cliff, with a great view of a lava field where some damned souls are being tormented. The ground is mostly burnt, but in some periods of the years the plain also grows some spectacular fire flowers. They smell a bit too much like rotten eggs, but they are quite the sight (”romantic”, Tim has called it). An added bonus is that the place also happens to be property of the current Ruler of Hell and the First is never amused to find the pair making a mess of his field and of each other.

who made the first move It’s a bit difficult to say, because it depends on what should be classified as “first move” in their case. Technically speaking, the sexual (and romantic) part of their relationship started because the Copy kidnapped Tim to get his payback on him for rescuing John from his clutches. However, on the other hand, the one who officially crossed the line during the consequent fight was John. It’s definitely up to interpretation.

who brings flowers home Whoever is in the mood to try and either curse or poison or make the other sick as payback for whatever has been done to him earlier on. Once again, the eventual witnesses to the scene are not impressed.

who is the best cook Considering that Demon John most likely doesn’t even care to learn how to turn the cooker on, it’s John. He has been forced to learn how to put meals together, since he has lived on his own for most of his life. He isn’t stellar, but he can be pretty good when he puts some effort into it. Plus, even if he would never admit it, he finds cooking relaxing from time to time and fun, whenever he chooses to experiment with it (even if that last thing is at very high risk of setting something on fire).

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JOHN & CHAS

who hogs the duvet John moves around a lot in his sleep, so he often ends up stealing the thing and then kicking it on the floor. Chas lets him do it and, if he wakes up during the night, he always makes sure to get the duvet back and to tuck in John under it once again. He is aware that it’s pretty useless, because the blanket is fated to fall on the ground once again, but it’s all part of his self-appointed job (namely, taking care of that disaster man he can’t live without). 

who texts/rings to check how their day is going Chas. He knows that John isn’t very good at taking care of himself, so he rings in, when they are apart for a prolonged amount of time. The magician doesn’t always pick up or at times he hangs up in his face, but Chas doesn’t take offence. That’s just whom John is. As for John, he doesn’t call or text unless he needs something or wants to share some completely useless piece of information. However, he tends to do the second thing mostly with Chas and Chas only and the latter knows, by now, that it’s his way to tell him that he is alright. You can’t get John Constantine to tell you straight in the face that he cares, but he shows it, in his own weird way. Good thing Chas has learnt to read between the lines a long time before.

who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts John brings back the weirdest kinds of souvenirs from his trips, so he definitely wins the price for the oddest gifts. Some of them are completely useless, others are bordering dangerous, but from time to time he also gets his hands on tokens that have a use or can bring some decent luck to their owner. He slips them in Chas’s pockets without saying a word, stealing his cigarettes in the process. Chas’s gifts are more of the normal kind, but he makes sure to get everything John is currently missing, because he is well aware that the other might not go around and buy them until he is desperate. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what exactly he gets him, because John always sees is one thing: Chas being there, having his back all the time, no matter what. And there is no best present than that. Especially because he is absolutely persuaded that he doesn’t deserve any of it.

who gets up first in the morning Chas. He always lets John sleeping in a bit, even when they are supposed to be out and about early. The time to cook him breakfast, at least, especially when the blond has stayed up till almost dawn, doing only God knows what. It’s a bit of a morning routine they have established and they are both quite comfortable with it. Even when Chas is forced to literally kick John out of the bed.

who suggests new things in bed They can both get pretty creative. John has tons of experience from sleeping with non-humans, so he usually is the one who spits out the new ideas, always making sure to tell the whole story while they are sharing drinks or spending a quiet night in. Chas tends to be game for almost everything, because he trusts John and he knows that his best friend comes in very odd flavours, even if he is a bit weary every time there is some spell or magic involved. But damn if he doesn’t prefer having just a more normal fuck from time to time.

who cries at movies As mentioned above, John isn’t very likely to get emotional over a movie...or anything else. Chas is a bit more open with his feelings, even if he doesn’t go as far as crying, and that usually gains him a good amount of teasing. There are certain times, however, when John is in one of his weird moods and some themes might trigger memories or dark thoughts. He closes off and gets sour, even if he doesn’t say anything. Not that he needs to, since his best friend knows him too well to miss the shift. When it happens, Chas usually turns off the TV, saying he has got bored, and they go off for a drink to their favourite pub, or maybe just have a walk or a ride somewhere. John plays along, pretending to believe Chas’s excuses, but he is well aware of what the other man is doing. And those are some of the many moments when he can’t not admit how lucky he is to have Chas with him, in spite of everything.

who gives unprompted massages Usually, it’s Chas. John is almost constantly tense as a wire, even if he is very good at hiding it. Sometimes it’s subtle, with Chas going to stand behind his and rubbing his shoulders for a while, others he bullies the magician into lying down and being still while he gives him a full back rub. John protests every time, but his heart isn’t in it, because he knows he needs it and because Chas works miracles with his hands. It happens, more rarely, that the roles are reversed and John is the one giving the massages. Usually it happens on the days when Chas is missing his daughter more than the usual or when he has been forced into one, long fight on the phone with René. Or after some tough case. John breaks out a bottle of their best gin, pours Chas a glass, downs a shot himself and then gets to work. There’s no talking, but he always spends at least a good hour straddling the other man’s thighs and working on removing every single knot he can find in his muscles. And if Chas happens to doze off in the process, he then grabs the bottle and goes off in the basement, leaving the other man to his well-earned and much needed rest.

who fusses over the other when they’re sick Again, it’s Chas. He fusses and worries and covers John with attentions, even when they aren’t wanted or appreciated and when he gets yelled because the magician just wants to lie down and be miserable. However, no matter what he might say, John still gets soup, fresh sheets,painkillers, and has his alcohol and cigarettes intakes restricted. Moreover, Chas is usually the one doing the patching up after a bad fight or a mission gone wrong. John, instead, sucks at being a nurse, even if he tries from time to time. He tries to be quieter and to give Chas more space to rest. He breaks out the healing spells Zatanna had tried to teach him once upon a time and gets them to work, when normally he can hardly heal a flesh wound with them. He delivers all of it wrapped in a constant dose of teasing, but it’s hard not to miss the care and the attention he puts in every single gesture.

who gets jealous easiest Jealousy is a bit of an odd thing with them. They aren’t together, not in the normal sense of the term, and John still sleeps around from time to time, even if not as much as he used to do. On the other hand, Chas is technically still married to René. They balance it, because they put their friendship before any romantic or sexual attraction they have for each other, but at times it stings. For Chas, it can be hard to see John going off with others, even while they were supposed to be out together. As for John, he sees the looks that some girls (and some men too) give to his best friend and he can’t help the bitterness, even if he knows that Chas wouldn’t do anything about those (hard to tell if it’s because he is still married or because he is trying to stay faithful to John himself). What makes the magician jealous, however, is the awareness that those people could give Chas what he deserves, while he, with the kind of life and choices he makes, would never be able to accomplish it.

who has the most embarrassing taste in music They both have their moments. Sometimes, one of the latest hits gets stuck in their heads and it’s usually some very embarrassing song for teenagers and that always ends in a lot of teasing coming from the other. It’s a bit of a game, with one trying to stop himself from humming along whenever the song is aired on the radio and the other eventually catching up with what’s happening.

who collects something unusual As mentioned above, collecting weird things is part of what John does. Chas helps him out in the basement from time to time, so he has a very good idea of what is stashed down there. He would never admit it to John, but at times he really wishes he could unsee and forget about some of the things he has witnessed in the vault. Especially when some of them end up in John’s mouth. He has seen pretty much a bit of everything, but witnessing his best friend touching and swallowing things that are instinctively revolting still gets to him from time to time.

who takes the longest to get ready They are both pretty quick with getting ready, but John has his moments when he is too gone to be able to coordinate his own movements, whether it is because he’s drunk, because he is too sleep deprived or because his head is completely elsewhere. When that happens, all Chas can do is making sure to have aspirins and coffee at hand and arm himself with a good dose of patience. Thankfully, when it comes to dealing with John, he has a lot to start with.

who is the most tidy and organised Chas. He is the only reason why John doesn’t live in the middle of Chaos. Truth to be told, the magician can clean up after himself, but there are periods when he is obsessed with something or has too many mood swings and he completely forgets about everything that concerns care and self-care. He doesn’t eat enough, he doesn’t sleep enough, he drinks and smokes too much. He leaves everything hanging around, from trash to clothes, to dirty dishes, to empty bottles. He doesn’t listen, he even forgets that Chas is there at times. Eventually, he gets back to his normal self, but they are usually rough periods, for them both.

who gets most excited about the holidays Excited isn’t the right word, but usually it’s Chas. “Holidays” with John means “no more magical shit for some time”, which usually translates in not having anyone trying to kill them and being able to properly relax. Of course, it never lasts because John gets restless too soon, but it’s still a good chance for them to recharge a bit. The holidays Chas gets excited about, instead, are Geraldine’s ones. They are the periods when she gets back from boarding school and he travels back to England to spend time with his daughter. He asks John to tag along every time, but the answer is always a negative one. He doesn’t push, because he expects it, but he can’t help the disappointment. John is and will always been an important part of his life, no matter the status of their relationship and he wished he could be a part of his daughter’s life as well exactly because he is important to him. But, then again, dealing with Constantine means having to find a compromise and he takes what he can, even if it means splitting between the two important people in his life.

who is the big spoon/little spoon They tend to take “turns”, when the cuddling actually happens, which isn’t all the time. John has to be in the mood for it and Chas respects the boundaries, even if, was it up to him, they’d be touching all the time when they are alone. Chas honestly love being allowed to hold John, wrapping himself around him. It gives him the illusion that he can keep the blond there with him, it allows him to forget, for a while, that John is going to slip from his fingers once again, as soon as the moment is over. And, deep down, John likes to he held too, because the gesture gives him a delusion of the peace and the warmth he will most likely never be allowed to have. And he enjoys being the one holding Chas too, from time to time, because it helps him believing that there is something he can give to his best friend that isn’t just misery and grief. He needs to believe that he can protect him, that he can be a decent person for him, that he can make the price of the wonders he shows him worth paying. Chas just basks in the feeling of having John’s arms around him because they are the reminder that, in spite of everything, he is, one way or the other, the one person John fights to keep in his life.

who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports They are both pretty competitive, so their matches can get heated, especially when they are drinking their way through it. However, John is a sore loser and a cheater, so he ends up winning most of the times, either because he bends the rules to his own will or because Chas let him win. Antagonising a drunk, overly competitive magician isn’t always the best idea and, while he knows that John would never really harm him beyond repair, experience has taught him that he can been scaringly vindictive when he decides to be.

who starts the most arguments John. He is often careless with his words or too brutally honest when he shouldn’t be. When he is angry, he lashes out, taking all his rage out on the closest person to him. And said person happens to be Chas most of the times. As for Chas, he is usually patient and knows John well enough to know not to bite when the other tries to provoke him on purpose, but there is only so much he can do to bear him when the blond hits all his buttons at the same time. When he is the one to snap, the arguments are always the most vicious and a few times they have ended with John using magic on him, just as he did the day he left London. He has never spoken like that one time again, of course, because that’s one line he doesn’t wish to cross a second time, but they have come close to it in a couple of occasions.

who suggests that they buy a pet Chas likes dogs and he is hellbent on getting one (this is your headcanon and I love it, so here it goes again x’D). John couldn’t care less for having a pet, mostly because they are more of a bother than anything else. Besides, if he had to pick something, he would go for a cat or for a snake, because they are far less trouble. Or some magical creature that can mostly take care of itself. It’s a still ongoing argument, with the result that the only pet they get to have is Yoyo whenever Tim stays with them for some time. Considering the amount of time John spends fighting with the bird, he and Chas have agreed that, whatever happens, their possible future pet won’t have feathers. Of any sort.

what couple traditions they have Their “couple traditions” coincide pretty much with their “best mates traditions”. The watch sports on TV, go out for drinks, have road trips and, from time to time, some sight-seeing. Picking up bar fights might as well be part of the list, considering how often it happens. They also spend their quieter nights on the couch, sharing a beer and talking about their shared past, or about the things they have done while separated. From time to time, when they get nostalgic over their younger years, they end up recreating the settings of their most memorable hook-ups. It’s never the same, and perhaps it’s for the best, but satiated their shared desire for closeness.

what tv shows they watch together They usually go for sports, but it happens from time to time that one of them gets mildly interested in some soap opera or TV show and they watch it together to have a laugh. The most memorable time has been when John forced Chas to binge all eight the seasons of “House, M.D.” and the poor man was forced to hear, among the other things, the magician going about, in every single episode, how the protagonist and his best friend should have just “shut the fuck up n’ fuck already”.

what other couple they hang out with They aren’t officially a couple, so they can’t exactly double date. They see Zatanna and some others of John’s mates, from time to time, but those outings are considered meetings between friends and acquaintances. Alternatively, it’s always the two of them with Tim and Yoyo, and those are, even if none of them uses that term, “family reunions”.

how they spend time together as a couple They do all the things they have always done during the years, after Newcastle and Ravenscar. They act much more like best buddies than anything else, with the addition of the fact that a life with John Constantine includes demons, angels, magic and all the rest of those particular lots. There is always a danger waiting behind the corner, or some sort of Apocalypse they need to stop. Plus, the random hook-ups and the rare, but meaningful moments of tenderness, but those are something they never talk about in the aftermath.

who made the first move John. Back when they first met, he was the one who decided that he wanted to screw the pretty brunet who had fixed his band’s mixer and he was the one to kiss Chas first that very same night. And he was also the one to kiss Chas outside the pub, almost two decades later, before leaving for the States. Moreover, he was the one to send the first text to allow them to reconnect, but that was just because Chas didn’t have his new number or address. Otherwise, they both know that Chas would have reached out first.

who brings flowers home Chas, but he does it for himself, not for John. The place definitely use some colours and, besides, they smell much better than all the potion John insists on preparing in the kitchenette of the cabin.

who is the best cook As stated above, John can manage in the kitchen, but Chas is much better than him and, especially, he’s the one who takes care of the cooking more of the times. It’s the best way to get proper meals at appropriate times. Whenever he leaves it up to John, he ends up having breakfast at 3 in the afternoon and dinner at dawn. Useless to say that, since he likes his routine, he prefers taking the matter in his hands.

#hellblazer #john constantine #demon constantine #chas chandler #* My reality is eleven tenths perception. * ::headcanons:: #* If Souls came in Pairs Yours would be the Brighter Half of My Own * ::John&Chas:: {thedemonconstantine} #* You're the Mirror I'm not Afraid to see My Darkness reflected in * ::John&Demon John:: {thedemonconstantine}

[whenimgoodandready]

They said Marinette couldn’t be akumatized cuz she was “too optimistic”. Well, Hawk Moth tried to akumatize her in “Zombizou”, but that didn’t work. Strike 1. He tried to do it again in “Chameleon”, but that didn’t work either. Strike 2. So what’s it gonna take to really crack this clumsy aspiring fashion designer? You’d have to be conning and manipulative enough to orchestrate something so spirit breaking to have the schools Darling akumatized. The culprit achieves this. Find out how:

*Ladybug-Ever feel like you’re being watched? Like, you sense something off, but you just can’t put your finger on it? It’s creepy. Speaking of which, that creeper is Lila Rossi. During her “excessive traveling” she’s been spying on Marinette from her window growing increasingly jealous of all the love and attention she’s been getting. Especially from Adrien. Like how he gave her her own lucky charm bracelet (“Befana”). Season 2’s finale was the last straw for her, so that’s why she came back to school to ruin Marinettes life and take all of the attention for herself (“Chameleon”). After allying with Gabriel to be close to Adrien, she’s been keeping him up to date with Adriens whereabouts and how she says Marinette is a “bad influence” on him (“Miracular”). Gabe of course is only using Lila to trigger negative emotions for akumas. (whispers) She’s getting more wicked!

Since everyone seems to love Marinette, Lila thought she could sabatoge that and make her and everyone else miserable therefore she’d have to be akumatized along with them and Hawk Moth will get his miraculouses and Lila will finally see Ladybug fall. Well, Lila still doesn’t know Gabe and Hawk Moth are one in the same, but she’s technically “allied” with him (Hawk Moth) too, so she can get rid of Ladybug. How do they pull this off? Lila frames Marinette for stealing the answers to a test making it look like she cheated, faking an injury that Marinette pushed her down the stairs and even stealing her fox necklace found in her locker. All of which she planted and made look convincing getting Marinette expelled! Damn! She’s good at being a liar and it’s getting worse!

Marinette is so devastated by all this after failing to call out Lila and with that, Hawk Moth akumatizes Natalie as Catalyst again turning him into Scarlet Moth from last seasons finale so he can akumatize another whole army using his multiple scarlet akumas! Oh sh*t! Scarlet Moth akumatizes Marinette and-WHOA! WAIT A MINUTE! IT HAPPENED!? IT ACTUALLY HAPPENED! MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WAS AKUMATIZED!? HOLY SH*T SHE TOOK OFF HER MIRACULOUS! OH GOD! WE’RE DOOMED! Don! Don! Don! SAY GOOD-BYE! SAY GOOD-BYE! CUZ WE’RE ALL GONNA-Huh!? What happened to Cataylst there!? Phew! Well thank God she’s still sick from the damaged peacock miraculous otherwise it would’ve been the end of the world as we know it. STRIKE 3! YOU’RE OUTTA HERE HAWK MOTH! :P.

Unfortunately, none of this saved the fact that Marinette was still expelled. Sensing fowl play, Alya attempts to play detective and figure out who did this to her best friend. Glad to see she’s siding with Marinette again cuz I’m sure she must’ve learned from her mistakes. During that time Marinette was put under house arrest by her parents to keep her safe while Gabe takes back the peacock miraculous from Nathalie fearing for her health. Not wanting to disappoint her secret love, Nat secretly steals her miraculous to become Mayura and creates a sentimonster of her own. Hmmm, she can do that!? Wow! She creates one in the spitting image of Ladybug! Complete with voice! Oh God! This is gonna be a toughie.

It was a toughie. “Sentibug” was sooooooooooo convincing, Cat Noir actually fell for it and even sided with her over the real Ladybug! 😫 Ugh! C’mon you stupid cat! Didn’t you learn anything!? It was over a love confession and he damn well knew Ladybug loved “someone else”, but his school boy crush just overpowered it. Whomp! Whomp! Whomp! Luckily, it was only for a quick moment until he was called out on his stupidity and the dynamic duo (along with the fandom) learned something new today, sentimonsters have feelings!

Before I begin my thoughts on this, I’d like to say that this ep come out on my birthday! Sept 10! 🎉🎈Happy (Belated) Birthday🎂To Me!🎈🎉 I consider it a gift from Zagtoon and Thomas Astruc, so merci! What a treat I got from this as one of the best things about this episode was when the whole class vouched for Marinette knowing she’s a nice girl who wouldn’t steal (anything that wasn’t a smart phone) unlike how they did in “Chameleon” siding with Lila. Much better! Then there was the well calculated plan to déjà vu “Heroes Day” using Scarlet Moth and Catalyst. I could see how it would’ve gone had it not been for Nats growing health issues. From the Season 2 finale, almost everyone was akumatized cuz they were all in shock that their town heroine, Ladybug, turned evil and “killed” Cat Noir in front of ‘em (illusion by Volpina) and it almost happened again cuz the nicest girl in school, Marinette, was accused of being a criminal leaving everyone heartbroken from her expulsion cuz everyone loves Marinette as much they love Ladybug! (Lila is actually good at elaborate plans in a villainous sense). It almost happened! Marinette got akumatized! The fans were right, her akumatized form would’ve been something justice related, Princess Justice, cuz she’s a huge advocate for it and her mother too! As Verity Queen! However, we never got to see it cuz of Nats health, but it would’ve been cool. Since Marinette was taking off her miraculous, was she gonna give them to Hawk Moth or just took ‘em off before she was fully akumatized for safety? During the almost corruption, Alya and Chloe stood their ground keeping cool in case they were needed for battle (didn’t see Adrien there or even the others who already had miraculouses there, so I don’t know what went on with them). Detective Alya’s research went nowhere as she couldn’t find any evidence to back-up her friend, so it was a bust. Damn, that Lila! The debate over Cats guess on who the real Ladybug was was absolutely jarring! Guy was too blinded by his love for her to think clearly! Do what your real Lady said and LISTEN TO YOUR BRAIN YOU STUPID BANANA HAIRED CAT! Well, we can’t blame the guy, I mean, it was pretty convincing and we need to remember he’s the Heart Thinker to Ladybugs Brain Thinker. Love will be their downfall. Wait for it. Turns out, Mayura can create her own image of a sentimonster and they actually have thoughts and feelings! Their free will is just controlled by Mayura. Once Ladybug figured that out, Sentibug turned over a new leaf, but sadly was short lived as Mayura destroyed her. R.I.P. Sentibug :’(. Oh God! What is this, the 25, 915th time Cat Noir has to see Ladybug die in front of him!? First it was all those heart wrenching times in “Desperada”, then her capture in “Party Crasher” and now this! Guys gonna be traumatized, I swear. Hawk Moth made another of his rare public appeareances and this was to fight his adversaries in Mayuras defense. A little thing I liked was when Gabe woke up and realized Nathalie was out and about as Mayura and asked Nooroo why he didn’t wake him up, his excuse was “You looked so peaceful!” (Badum-tish🥁). XD! Straight outta sitcom! Hawk Moth and Ladybug have a short Mexican Standoff (he had his son right there!) before calling off the fight to escape with their partners. That was close! They almost revealed themselves there! Nat is out of commission as both Catalyst and Mayura as her health is getting worse from the damaged peacock miraculous (let’s not have another Emilie incident) and with that, they’ll figure out another way to find Master Fu (this is after “Feast”. Master Fus ep). In the end, Lila got no comeuppance sadly and instead, became Gabe’s “muse”, but Adrien put his foot down and confronted her, in all his tranquil fury, to bullsh*t her way into bringing back Marinette since she’s too good of a liar to expose (nobody messes with his “not-yet-aware” love interest). This is one of those rare moments where Adrien is pissed off! The last time we saw him this angry was in the Christmas special! It’s scary! He warned her in “Onichan” and now, she’s gonna pay! You go Adrikins! (I would’ve gone a little more tougher, but still, you did good!). “Things aren’t always what they seem” is the quote of the episode here and it plays it straight (No Marinette, it’s not for your benefit). Lila made up yet another “disease” for herself that involves lying (well, its technically true) and is saved Marinette to get her back in school. A little heads up folks, this episode is after “Cat Blanc” and “Felix” and before the big two part finale. Just lettin’ ya know there, *click* *click*.

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #miraculous ladybug ladybug

[alirhi]

chapter 5 for my one and only reader lol

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 5/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. WARNINGS: m/m, m/f Notes: lord I got so stuck so many times on this one XD sorry if it's crap.

They'd destroyed the room. Her throat was a bit sore, but Loki still couldn't help the giggle that escaped her as she stretched and glanced around. It looked like they'd smashed just about everything that could possibly be broken as they slammed each other into things and fucked on every surface in the room. She was covered in bruises, but she'd never felt so relaxed and sated in her life!

"I'm starting to have doubts," she teased, rolling over to flop across Bucky's bare chest and give his nipple an affectionate lick. She still couldn't believe she'd actually gotten him out of his clothes; the first couple of rounds, he hadn't bothered with more than just opening his fly. It was kind of hot, honestly. "I'm not sure I want to let go of this version of you."

"This might be the only 'version' left."

Shocked out of her post-coital daze by the depth of emotion thick in his voice, Loki braced herself up and stared down at him. The eyes staring right back at her were Bucky's, full of immeasurable pain and glazed with tears. "Oh, James! Don't. No, no, no, don't do this. Don't pull at it!"

They both sat up, Bucky leaning back against the footboard of the bed and Loki framing his face with both hands, frantically stroking his jaw as if she could soothe away all of his pain, just like that. "Don't go down this road, Sergeant. I saw the turmoil it put you through last time. You're not ready."

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

She choked on a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. "I need to differentiate between the soldier and the love of my life, and you need some barrier between who you are and what they've turned you into."

"...Loki?" Reluctantly, she lifted her head to look at him again, and her heart shattered at the lost, desperate look in his eyes. "What's my name? Who am I?"

"James." Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she traced his trembling lips with her thumb and told him slowly, gently, "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. We met in Germany, i-in 1943, and we fell in love. You are the warmest, kindest man I've ever met, with the most brilliant moral compass. This... This machine your enemies have turned you into... This is not you, do you understand? You are not a monster. You are not a killer. You're better than this."

"Am I?" He sounded so hopeless, so utterly broken, and she couldn't take it.

Better than me. You always have been.

"Get dressed, Sergeant," she told him, patting his chest as she stood up. "I fear our stolen moment is over. We've had longer than I expected, but someone will be along shortly and notice the broken door."

As she moved toward the bathroom to get cleaned up, she felt arms around her waist and flinched in surprise. Apparently misinterpreting her reaction, Bucky immediately released her and backed up. She turned, about to hug him and assure him that everything was fine, but once again the look on his face stopped her cold.

"What is love?"

That did it. That broke her beyond bearing. Heart shattering in her chest, she turned her back to him and dropped her head into her hands. How could she even begin to answer him? How could she possibly describe it to him, if he couldn't feel it? "Don't you ever tire of making me cry?"

"Well, you're just so pretty when you let yourself break just a little."

Loki went rigid, a shock running through her at the familiarity of both her own words and his. She didn't dare look at him, terrified of what she could possibly find in his eyes now, but she didn't resist when she felt his arms wrap around her again, and she melted when she felt his soft, open-mouthed kiss on her shoulder.

"I don't remember you," he murmured, "but I know you... But... But not this you. The other one; the way you looked before."

He sounded confused as usual, but at least it was lighter; perplexed, rather than an existential crisis. Loki snickered, leaning back against him. "I've never shown this side to you before. I told you, once, that I could do it, but you..."

"I what?"

"You told me..." A thought occurred to her, and she snorted. "You know, I could tell you anything I want right now, and you'd have no way of knowing if I'm telling you the truth."

"I trust you."

You always have, and that is the greatest gift you've ever given me. With a soft smile, Loki turned, shifting back into his male form as he moved. Draping his arms over Bucky's shoulders, he reminded him, "You told me that nothing about me was a flaw to be hidden or fixed; that you didn't understand it, but you didn't have to. You loved me and wanted me, anyway." With a somewhat bitter shrug, he added, "And then you insisted on hiding me from everyone you ever knew, but that was an entirely different issue."

Bucky sighed, pressing his forehead against Loki's. "How did I get here?"

"I don't know." Someone was coming. Knowing they would never be dressed and gone in time to avoid being seen, Loki simply put up a quick illusion of the room and its door being back to normal. Everything intact, and no occupants to be found; just in case, he clapped a hand over Bucky's mouth until the footsteps outside passed them by. "We must go."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but all he did was nod and reach for his clothes. A thought occurring to him, Loki stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Do they let you shower before they put you back on ice?" No answer, only a sort of vague look of confused contemplation. He rolled his eyes and pointed to the bathroom. "Go shower, you Neanderthal. I'll clean your clothes for you. Go."

"What's a-"

"Wash yourself, you grungy cave man! No more questions, only soap and water! Shoo!"

"But what's a shower?"

Loki whirled around, not sure whether to weep for how much HYDRA had stripped away from the other man or slap him upside the head in the hopes of jogging at least some basic memory, when he saw the cheeky grin on Bucky's face and stopped. Hand poised in the air with one long finger pointed at him, mouth open to explain, he took in that damned smile, so familiar it made his heart ache, and he laughed. Bucky laughed, too, and the sound was the most glorious music to his ears.

He waited until the soldier disappeared into the bathroom and he heard the shower turn on, and then he shook his head, grumbling to himself with a smile, "Cheeky. Cheeky amnesiac monkey."

_____________________________________________________

Next Masterlist

#fanfiction #loki #bucky barnes #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier #loki/bucky #m/m #i'm still having fun with this #even with the writer's block #won't let it stop me! #sebastian stan #tom hiddleston #winter's frost

[theartfuldodger26]

For the prompt I'll be predictable: Harry Potter, Bellamort and Bellatrix 😁

Thanks for the prompts, @bellamort1993! Feel free to answer the same :) 

001 | Send me a fandom and I will tell you my:

Favorite character:

 Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort.

 Bella is the closest to my heart, but apparently I waste the most         brainmatter on Tom/Voldemort, so *shrugs*

Harry is my favourite light character, he’s an admirable person.

Least Favorite character:

Umbridge, as is universally accepted.

Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Bellamort (which is canon, bitches)

Delphi/Harry (it will become canon, you just wait for TCC part3)

Tomarry but not Harrymort (nearly counts as canon judging by how often Harry gushes over handsome Tom’s face)

Drarry (I’m human and susceptible to fandom mainstream, plus there’s some fantastic fics out there)

Delphi/Victoire (cause two pretty, hot-headed ladies are my cup of tea any day)

Character I find most attractive:

Bellatrix, hands down. Then Voldemort can do things to me too, but Bella would be my first choice.it’s so nice being bi, isn’t it.

Character I would marry:

No one, I’m happy by myself.

Delphi can be my angsty fuck buddy with whom we meet every once in a while, bitch, get drunk, cry and fuck.

Character I’d be friends with:

Harry, tho I’m not the best of friends and he does bring an unappealing high mortality rate to any occasion. It’s fiiine. 

a random thought:

The wizarding world makes zero sense in so many places. They haven’t had an Industrial Revolution, meaning they haven’t known first hand the new ideas that came with it, and they seem to be stuck in the Middle Ages in many ways, even if they dont seem extremely Christian as these times actually were. We know little about the political system and their beliefs are so random. It’s really confusing.

An unpopular opinion:

Idk what’s unpopular these days. Aside from Albus’ name, I actually liked the Epilogue.

It showed what we needed to know: that Harry and the rest made it out okay. They found the courage to face their destroyed community and rebuild, even though they had gone through enough during the war. I think JKR said it herself in an interview how important rebuilding is after a catastrophe, how it can daunt even the bravest people. The miracles of Japan and Germany bouncing back and better after WWII are relevant real-life examples here. 

A married Harry, enthusiastic about hugging his kids goodbye on their first day of school, a day that to him symbolises a new beginning, is the greatest gift and it does not erase the pain he might feel every day for going through hell in his early life. In fact, it’s this snipet of normalcy what he craved as a boy and refused to daydream about because its weight would be too much,and now he gets to have it. Along with the nightmares and the PTSD and the new challenges yes, but now, in this moment, as he waves to the new generation that he helped create, he’s safe, loved and happy. He deserves it. 

Second unpopular opinion: I don’t give a damn if McGonagall’s timeline is screwed up by bringing her to life in the 20′s. Didn’t really matter to the story before and she’s a freaking badass and comic relief, which is the best combo ever. Is it fan-bating or whatever it was called? Sure. But if she makes the story better with her presense I give minus two fucks about when JKR originally said she was born (also, newsflash: people have the right to change HC’s, especially people who don’t shit about maths, like our dear creator) 

My Canon OTP:

           BELLAMORT

Seriously, I have screenshoted the details of TCC where it shows they’re canon.

My Non-canon OTP:

            Harry/Delphi

I know, I’m sick, it’s fine. *insert dog sipping coffee in the flaming house meme here*

Most Badass Character:

Bellatrix, handsdown.

McGonagall for good people.

Most Epic Villain:

Voldemort, we’d have no books without him. He can be dumb, but it’s cute. 

Pairing I’m not a fan of:

I’m not huge on non-canon Hermione ships, and anything with Snape is gross.

Character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

…Snape? Not his character, but the positive light she gave him by naming Harry’s kid after him. It appeared she was clear on him not being an admirable person, but then he’s the bravest bloke ever? No, ma’am.

On a Fantastic Beasts note, I do hope they handle the backstories of all characters well. We’ll surely get back to this after the FB series are over.

 Favourite Friendship:

The Golden Trio, they work as a three-man-group better, I won’t devide them. Also, as a part-time writer I have to admire how the writing and dynamics were handled, it’s so hard to think as more than one person, not to mention three!

Character I most identify with:

PostAzkaban!Bellatrix feels she’s letting her master and herself down, and so do I. I keep looking for my former self. Who wasn’t much after all, but had some qualities I should recultivate.

Character I wish I could be:

… I’d like to have some Bellamort qualities that I lack, but in general I’m fine working on myself.  

002 | Send me a ship and I will tell you:

When I started shipping them:

After I finished the books, so that’s since 2007. 12 cool, angsty years. 

My thoughts:

I love them, they’re my evil babies. In fact, I don’t even have reasons for loving them, as most shippers do, I’d just die for them, end of reasoning.

What makes me happy about them:

That they’re complicately made for each other in their unique goth way. And that in the end they had a kid, which I think helped Voldemort out a lot with his issues with intimacy and emotions.

What makes me sad about them:

That they died *sobs hysterically*.

Also in the books they have like two scenes together. (HE SCREAMED THO)

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Seeing Bella’s character butchered down to a snivelling, slavish idiot, though these aren’t Bellamort fics usually.

In Bellamort fics, it feels like a cheat when it says Bellamort but it’s just Bella pining and Voldemort really not caring. I don’t have a problem with the POV, but it needs to be tagged as unrequited. Otherwise I’m open to perspectives.

Things I look for in fanfic:

Good writing, mostly.

I’m also a huge fan of Muggle!AU’s, so if you have that, I’ll read it, no questions asked XD

My wishlist:

On Amazon? :P Fine, I’ll show myself out

I presume this means wishlist on fics/art with these two, but do correct me if I’m wrong. I dont have one, since I write myself, so whatever I want to read, I write. Right now I’m eager to finish the following Bellamort fics:

1. Harry finds out about Bellamort via looking through Voldy’s stuff.

2. BellaDiesButVoldyWins!AU

3. Voldemort discovers his breastfeeding kink

4. A therewasonlyonebed!fic 

5. Tomarry turns Bellamort in Easter setting, Muggle!AU, Harry wets himself in the process

In general I’d say I’d like to see more classic, tropy fanfics with these two, lighter ones, you know. Angst is great, but let us enjoy the coffeeshop!AU too.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Alone and miserable.

I guess Bella would have been okay with Rodolphus, had Tom/Voldemort never been born.

And Voldemort/Tom would have been fine too with some nameless pretty woman he did not love but had to marry to keep face.

But I think that they would have never been truly happy with anyone else. especially Tom, he’d never be really comfortable with anyone.

My happily ever after for them:

VoldemortWins!AU, they conquer Europe, Bella is Minister for War, Voldemort the Emperor. Maybe they have a kid, maybe a couple more or none at all, who cares, the point is they live and fulfull their dreams of revolutionising the Wizarding Wolrd.

I also have a sappy afterlife!AU where for a while Bella is imprisoned at the family castle for having a halfblood little bastard, goes half-insane as Voldemort seacrhes for her (they had a spat right after they got there), and Delphi kills herself and goes to find her dad in small-child form. They finally get tgether and live deathly ever after in some Norwegian fjord in the frozen tundra. (it’s also my personal happy ending, only it’s cats and snakes)

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character:

I love Bella. She’s a bitch and a sadist, but I love her.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character:

The one and only, his majesty the Dark Lord himself.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

Rodolphus, he’s her only friend.

Also, sad HC: Bella was very close to Andromeda until she got too involved with Voldemort and his cause, and they drifted apart. No one wept harder than Bella after Andy left, and it was her who spent days banging on the Tonks’ door to let them speak to her. Voldy could squeeze tears out of his shirt after she fell asleep on him crying about it.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Again, not sure about what’s unpopular.

I believe she suffers from genuine mental illness that tortures her a lot and makes her life (and her shared life with Voldemort too) very hard. Also I find her more self-doubting and reserved than most authors, hard working and largely indifferent to people who aren’t Voldemort.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

Actual romantic scene would have been nice, but HE SCREAMED after all. Let’s not ask for too much.

Favorite friendship for this character:

Rodolphus and Andromeda. Recently I’ve started Brotp-ing Sirius with Bella too, before they parted ways.

My crossover ship:

I don’t really have any other fandoms, sorry.

Well, that was fun! Thanks again!

#ask #bellamort #bellatrix lestrange #lord voldemort #bellamort1993

[murphystartedthefire]

Conageddon - Richard & Luisa Panel

This is all out of order but finally sharing some notes and memories from the GLORIOUS Memori panel. I got my people. <3

UPDATE: The panel is now online! 

Firstly, they used this Memori fanvid as the intro, giving us all the feels - glad I was able to track down the song and video!

- My general thing that I said to @doortotomorrow is that honestly the whole vibe of their panel was so sincere and supportive and sweet. A lot of people commented what a switch it was from earlier in the day when Richard was being really silly with Bob and Zach, all messing around and could barely give a straight answer to a question on their panel -- which was enjoyable for other reasons! (a.k.a. Richard had just been handed a bubble maker and just spent 2/3 of the panel releasing a steady stream of bubbles and distracting Bob with it until he ran out.) But here they were talking really thoughtfully about their characters while still having funny moments. GET YOU A MAN WHO CAN DO BOTH etc.

- Re: The beer pong games from the party the night before, he was so proud of her for winning with him and she credited him for teaching her. Richard calls her his “masterpiece” lol.

- In season three when Murphy was "courting" Emori, Richard would be cute between takes and give her things like a little leaf as a gift. And then she threw it away when she thought he wasn't looking, and Richard was acting all offended. (Confirmed Soft Boy Murphy.)

- They share Memori songs with each other and listen in one earbud each while preparing for scenes. Before the rocket scene in "God Complex" they were listening to "I Will Follow You Into the Dark" by Death Cab For Cutie, she ran to him like you *have* to listen to this. Another one Luisa introduced him to was ”Scared” by The Tragically Hip ... Richard started singing it softly. I apparently willed this panel into existence with my mind. (sobs) EDIT: Thank you to @dailymemori for pointing out, Richard’s Memori song recently was “Here I Am” by The Boxer Rebellion.

- At one point Richard started talking about how he has such a close relationship with her but never felt like there was a danger of fiction blurring with reality... like Luisa is so beautiful and smart and kind and yet they never think about each other that way (romantically) and would be like "god no" if someone suggested it, she's just Lu to him. <3

- They talked about how Murphy and Emori saw something in each other immediately, that they were kindred spirits, Richard: "I get your crazy and I like it." Their first episode together, Richard said it was a test, they didn't know if a love interest could ever work for him. He emailed Jason to say how great she was and that they had to bring her back. Luisa remembers the moment where she has the knife to his neck and he looks up at her, she saw the look in his eyes like "damn."

- They were asked a question about how they come down from doing intense emotional scenes, Richard said it’s easier for him when he knows he did a good job, he’s amped up and feels good about it. Luisa said that Richard is hard on himself and his own worst critic when he thinks he's not doing well in a scene. "He can give 100% and be upset he didn't hit 101%." He was jokingly like "Well yeah, that's just one more percent, I could've done it!"

- On that note, one scene they struggled with at first was the rocket/shock collar scene in 5x06 "Exit Wounds", because they knew how important it was to the season, it's basically the time when they actually do communicate about their breakup and the reasons for it. Their timing felt off, and the people on set knew to leave them alone and let them figure it out together.

- It was just... super validating to hear them talk from their perspective about Memori's S5 arc centering on that scene. Richard placed a lot of it on Murphy’s demons and headspace and with her thriving in space it felt to him like she was pulling away so he had to faster and harder.

- I’m cheating and editing this in because I’d forgotten about it, but there was a question about Emori and Raven’s relationship and Luisa tied that into talking about Emori’s disability and how she doesn’t really sit in her feelings about it; it’s actually their abilities that drew them together, them both being really capable and Emori being so amazed with what she could do with tech.

- I believe this also came up at the meet & greet but Richard is so sick of Murphy being called a cockroach, heh. It's not the animal HE associates with him... to him from the very beginning, Murphy has been a feral dog who was kicked and abused too many times, and is one who will snap back at everyone because of it rather than cowering.

- In the same/opposite way, Luisa saw Emori as a cat. (She talked with me about this a little bit at the autograph table too!) She has a workbook of things that inspire her and help her get into character, and in it she had a picture of a black jaguar or panther. It's alone and skittish and colored dark like her soul -- and now next to it, she has another picture of a lioness with her pride and that's Emori now. <3

- There was one particularly hilarious callback to the boys’ panel earlier. The guys were asked an odd question about which 3 animals they'd put together to make the most dangerous animal. Bob, Richard, and Zach were getting *extremely invested* in the question and arguing with each other & defending their animal choices. Richard had centered his answer on a hippo and kept going on a rant about how scary hippos are, even bringing it up after they moved on to the next question....

- So fast forward to the Richard/Luisa panel. I forget how it was brought up exacty, maybe moderator Jo was like "at least we're not talking about hippos anymore" or something to that effect. And Luisa immediately reacted like "oh no, hippos are the worst. They're so scary." and talking about a violent hippo video she saw. And Richard just STOOD UP, so shocked and vindicated, like, YES. THANK YOU. This is why he loves her! Lmao.

- Luisa mentioned the backstories that they come up with for their characters but nothing is canon until it's canon. Richard echoed this and said before the reveal of what Murphy's crime was, he always used to say he peed on the last tree. He figured Murphy was just a pee-er because of the scene in S1 where he peed on that kid. Luisa being snarky: "When I met him I thought, that's the man for me. A pee-er."

- One audience member brought up the point that Murphy & Emori mirror each other, like he did better as a Grounder and Emori did better in space, the places they were always banished in. They were like "whoa!" and marvelling at that idea, Luisa said she thinks they may have talked about that parallel before but forgot about it. After that insightful comment came a surprisingly simple "what superhero duo would you be" question. Richard to Luisa: "I'd be Robin to your Batman any day."

- Question: Octavia used Lincoln's tattoo as her war paint, would Murphy ever wear war paint based on Emori's tattoo? Richard whispered with her as if worried he might give away a spoiler, then cryptically said "wait and see". O_o

- Luisa said she would’ve liked to see Emori and Pike interact with her distrust of authority. Richard would’ve liked Murphy to meet Lexa since the only time they did was her death scene. Jo said Emori and Lexa would’ve been interesting too; Luisa thinks if she had reached out to bringing the mutated Grounders back Emori would be wary and not want to trust her.

- Another audience question that I *have* to give a shout-out to for its creativity, someone pointed out that if Emori had been given the nightblood & survived, it could have led to Commander Emori & Flamekeeper Murphy. Again they had no real answer because it was just like "huh I have no idea what they would do with that power, that sounds like a bad idea for Murphy." :p But I am very into this AU idea.

- What would Murphy and Emori do if they switched bodies in a Freaky Friday situation. Richard: "I'd go find me. Emori's got a cute boyfriend." XD Luisa said very innocently she'd challenge someone to a race, she wants to see what this body can do.

#the 100 #john murphy #emori #memori #dailymemori #cute for a thief #pffffft i'm so sorry i meant to post this last night and then fell asleep #so here it is #conageddon

[rougepetale]

Happy Birthday (Jinpachi) (NSFW)

Fandom: Serendipity next door (Voltage/Otome Love 365)

Pairing: Jinpachi x reader

Warning: Smut

Note: Happy Belated birthday @bunnie2boo you can now finally, legally read my smut XD Enjoy~

You sat on the couch surfing the web, your headphones were in as you listened to music. Your boyfriend Jinpachi was due to be home soon, he told you that he would be home next week. You hummed to the tune that you were listening to, making you not notice the front door open and close.

Your world went back.

You struggled, fear pumping through your veins and your arms immediately came up to fight off your attacker. But whoever had your eyes covered also overpowered you. You tried to scream but another hand clamped over your mouth.

“Hey Hey! Toots! Stop struggling!” Came the gruff voice of your boyfriend.

Instantly you stilled, not expecting to hear that voice until another few days.

“Jin?” you squeaked out. You could feel your tears already welling up, so overwhelmed by the fact that he was here. He was gone for so long.

For six months you were alone.

For six months you could only see him through a computer monitor.

For six months you had to take your frustrations into your own hands.

 Eventually his large, warm hands moved from your vision. You turned to look at Jinpachi, his skin was darker now. Being in the hot sun for a few hours, he had a tan now. “Jin, you look different.”

Your eyes scanned his features, he had a few more laugh lines, and his beard was a little bit fuller. You stood and grasped his face into your own hands. He was real. He wasn’t a dream, he was truly flesh and blood before you. “You got darker” He leaned into your touch, obviously missing the warmth of your skin.

Jinpachi took your hands from his face and kissed the back of your hand, “I’ve missed you my love.”

You could feel your skin growing hot under his gaze. “Oh Jin!” you sighed, you stepped forward and into his embrace. You felt the steady thumping of his heart. New tears sprung forward. Unable to hide your exuding joy.

He hugged you impossibly tight, he rested his head on your hair, you decided to let your hair go natural, and he often expressed how amazed he was with your hair. How beautiful it was when you let it do its thing.

He took a lung full of your unique scent. He could be blindfolded and he could pick your scent out of a crowd and damn did he miss it.

“____, I have been dreaming of this day for six months” he admitted. “Africa was beautiful. The sunsets were beautiful, the people were beautiful and everything about it was absolutely beautiful…. But nothing can beat coming home to you…. Every face reminded me of you, and how much I missed you”

His words made your heart clench in such strong emotions you feared you’d cry again. Jinpachi eventually let you go and held you at arm’s length. “Let’s go out to lunch, catch up on six months”

That is how you both enjoyed your afternoon. Talking and gazing at each other, as if one of you would vanish into thin air.

“I brought you back a gift ____” Jinpachi said, breaking the ice at one point. “I left it back at the apartment though”

You smiled, “You know I am not a kid.”

“Fine, I’ll gift it to some other person” Jin replied, knowing that you would fall for the bait.

“NO!”

He smirked, he knew you’d fall for it. “I was just kidding, don’t worry Toots, your gift is much more personal”

You felt your heart flutter and your body clench. Oh you were looking forward to your present.

“Besides, I wouldn’t want to give this gift to anybody else” he placed his hand over yours, as he absentmindedly looked at the contrast of both of your skin. He had gotten darker since going to Africa, but he paled in comparison to yours. He loved the contrast. He loved everything about you.

He pulled you to your feet and you both walked back to your apartment. He missed the familiar setting. He missed feeling your hand in his. He would glance back at you from time to time, almost as if he couldn’t believe that you two were together.

Once inside your apartment he couldn’t wait. As soon as the door was shut and locked he had you pinned to the door. He gripped your face in his hands and devoured your lips. He littered your face with kisses, each one more passionate than the next. “J-Jin” you would gasp out. His beard tickled your face, and he knew it too. Letting his scrape against your neck as he kissed your chin.

“___” he rumbled out. He couldn’t believe he was getting turned on just by kissing you. He had truly missed you. His left hand took your own hand and threaded his fingers with yours. He took your bottom lips and nibbled gently, begging for permission.

Your lips parted and he took control of the kiss once again. Exploring your mouth. He mapped every part that he had kissed six months ago. He drug a moan out from of your body, not that it was all that hard.  His free hand began to unbutton your jeans and drag down the zipper. “Do you know how long I have missed this? How much I have wanted you for six months?”

You smirked, “I have a vague idea. We need to work on your sex talk old man” you laugh when he made a huff of irritation.

“You just caught me on a bad day. And you weren’t wearing anything sexy. Sorry, I don’t get turned on when you’re taking off old pajamas”

“They were your old pajamas!”

“Even worse!” he groaned. He managed to get your pants about half way down when you helped him the rest of the way.

“Impatient are we?” you giggled. He rested his weight against you, and you could feel how impatient he was. Jinpachi released your hand as you went to work on releasing him from his own clothing. You knelt before him as you achingly pulled his pants down. His erection strained forward, he obviously was ready.

“Is this my birthday present?” you asked teasingly.

Jin smirked, “You know it is toots” his hand took a hold of your hair, he loved how bouncy and full it was. He had imagined this foe six weeks, grabbing you and having you choke on his length. Once the idea had wormed its way into his brain he was reluctant to let it go. He was so damn excited when you pulled his boxers down.

Maybe a little too excited.

He eagerly guided you to his length. He rubbed the leaking tip of his cock on your lips, spreading his pre cum. “Open your mouth Toots”

You of course obeyed. His length entered your mouth smoothly. And he nearly came undone there. No amount of video chats could make up for the reality. Shit, you were perfect for him. Seeing your lips wrapped around his cock… it was enthralling.

Your head bobbed on his length as your eyes watched him. His eyes were hooded as he struggled not to come undone in seconds. Your hands gripped his legs as you continued your ministration. “___ gods, you are too damn good” he hissed.

You hummed your appreciation. He nearly buckled under your little stunt. “Fuck ____” he growled, he couldn’t hold back much longer and bucked his hips into your mouth. Your head hit the door and you glared at him.

“Sorry toots, sorry” he apologized. He pulled you up from your kneeling position and drug you to the bed. He didn’t both removing your panties, not like they were much of an obstacle, he’d just have to push them to the side.

He rubbed your pantie clad mound. He knew you’d be wet already, you’d always bet wet for him. He gently parted your legs as he kissed his way up from your inner thigh to your junction. He inhaled, and smirked. You smelled amazing.

He palmed his cock and pumped a few times, he couldn’t wait to be buried inside you. “____ I am going to fuck you so hard.” He promised. He pushed the soaked garment to the side and entered quickly, giving you very little time to adjust to him.

“JIN!” you cried out. It had been too long since you both were like it. Your body shook and hummed as he thrust into you at bruising pace. “JIN! Fuck me!” you whined.

“That” he grunted, “is my” he groaned hard as he hit hard inside you, “goal” he could feel how you clenched around his cock. “You are so damn tight” he kissed you and nuzzled his face into your neck. Your hands grabbed a fistful of his shirt. Wishing he had removed it, you missed seeing his whole body. For being a little older than you. He was surprisingly toned. He smirked. “Later toots”

He grabbed your right leg and hefted it over his hip, giving him a new angle to thrust into you. Heightening your pleasure His right hand rubbed your clit. You loved how you responded to him. “J-Jin!” you whined. “Jin you are perfect!” You groaned. Your hands snaked under his shirt to caress his abs. loving how they clenched under your touch.

“Sweetheart I can’t last much longer if you touch me like that” he warned. You smirked, glad that he wasn’t as calm and collected as he could be. He moved to have your other leg wrap around his waist. Having you depend on him for your completion. He rocked into you, hitting the wall and having you moan. He had hit your g-spot, having you nearly seeing stars. “Again Jin! Shit!”

He aimed to please. He aimed to hit your g-spot until you came undone. He managed to hit the special bundle of nerves twice before you came unraveled. Your body clenched against him. Milking him he moaned your name out in chants while you whined his name out. He released inside you. He pumped his seed inside you. Hot and in spurts. You felt so completely full and satisfied as your body throbbed in ecstasy.

Jin groaned as he collapsed upon you, you could feel his heart pounding against your skin. He rolled to the side and pulled you beside him. “I love you, ___ I am happy I could make it back for your birthday” he nuzzled into your neck.

An hour later he went for round two and three. He couldn’t help but want to fill you again and again. He was still on assignment and had to return next week for another two months. He wanted to make sure your body remembered who it belonged to. He made sure to take pictures of you while you slept. He couldn’t wait to get these developed.

#Jinpachi Yushima #serendipity next door #voltage inc fanfiction #Smut