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its-the-pilot · 8 months

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Waves | Rooster x Reader

| Waves Masterlist | Masterlist |

My first Top Gun fic, please be nice and enjoy!

Summary: Fourteen years after leaving without saying goodbye, Bradley Bradshaw comes back into your life. (Mav's niece!reader)

Warnings: swearing, adult banter

Length: 2k words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Working on this as a series, let me know what you think and if you want to see more!

Message or comment to join the taglist!

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Chapter One

“Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.”

Bradley immediately recognized the voice behind him without needing to turn around. He shook his head before downing the shot of bourbon in his hand and throwing his next dart, scoring 13. He’d never claimed to be good, but the unwelcome distraction didn’t help. “Hangman. You look… good,” he replied flatly, turning to face his fellow aviator.

Both men were wearing their service whites, customary for the mixer held for TOP GUN students the night before beginning training. “Well, I am good, Rooster. I'm very good. In fact, I am too good to be true,” Hangman gave his usual smirk as he picked up Rooster’s last dart from the table and threw it, hitting the bullseye without even looking. “Didn’t think they let old timers in.”

They had met a few years earlier in flight school, and they instantly had a rivalry of sorts. Bradley had been several years older than the rest of the pilots in the program, due to not being able to attend the Naval Academy like he wanted. It took him years longer than it should have to become an aviator, and there was a bit of a chip on his shoulder because of it. Hangman, cocksure as ever, had instantly picked up on that weakness and exploited it to the best of his ability, pointing it out every chance he got. Some things never changed.

“Didn’t think they let assholes in either, but here you are,” Rooster shot back, taking a long pull from the beer on the table beside him before moving to gather his darts off the board.

The younger man chuckled, the insult seeming to roll off him like water off a duck’s back. “C’mon now, Rooster, we’re old buddies! Some older than others,” He smirked, sneaking in another jab as he patted him on the back. “Don’t take it so personal.” Hangman did a quick once over of the bar, his grin still firmly affixed to his face as he noted the number of women in attendance for the evening. “Plenty of delectable dessert options tonight, why are you holed up over here all by your lonesome?”

“I’m here to fly, not fuck my way through Coronado.”

A boisterous laugh escaped the tall blonde’s mouth. “Someone doesn’t know how to take advantage of a situation when it presents itself. Your callsign really is fitting.” Straightening his uniform, Hangman’s eyes locked on to a pretty woman approaching the bar. “If you can’t get laid in Whites, you just don’t know what you’re doing. Watch and learn, Rooster.”

Bradley rolled his eyes and turned back to his dart game, draining his beer as Hangman walked away. As fun as it might be, he had no desire to watch him make a fool of himself in front of an entire bar with his cocky attitude.

-------------------------

You recited the drink order for your table a few times in your head as you walked up to the bar, raising your hand to get the bartender’s attention. Your coworkers Kendra and Hazel had wanted to come out tonight, knowing that the new crop of TOP GUN candidates would be here, dressed to the nines. You hadn’t been interested but they wore you down, telling you they would pay for your drinks if you just kept them company for a few hours. You secretly hoped it wouldn't take them long to find a couple guys to take home, so you could get on with your uneventful evening of laundry and prepping for work.

“3 beers, 3 vodka shots,” you ordered, passing a $5 tip across the bar. Sliding onto a barstool as you waited, you made a cursory glance around the bar and groaned to yourself, shaking your head. You couldn’t understand what the appeal was, most aviators had more balls than brains and were just looking for a quick lay.

It only took a minute of waiting for your drinks before you felt a warm, solid presence accompanied by a pair of hands resting on the bar top on either side of you, covered in white sleeves. “Not interested,” you said in a sing-songy voice, not even needing to look up to know it was a new TOP GUN aviator standing with his chest pressed gently against your back.

“Not even gonna give me a chance?” He asked, his southern drawl coming out as he leaned close to your ear.

You turned as much as you were able with his body so close and gave him a look, your eyebrow raised. He was handsome, tall and blonde, with striking green eyes, but his uniform was enough to turn you off. “Nope. I don’t date aviators.” Lord knew you had a lifetime’s worth of experience with them.

Your uncle Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had raised you from the time you were eight years old, after your parents died in a car accident. Growing up around Navy pilots gave you an aversion to them, and in your line of work, that was more helpful than you could imagine. You worked with aviators day in and day out in your job as an Aerospace Psychologist, and getting personally invested with the pilots would have consequences.

He chuckled, leaning back only slightly to allow your movement as his eyes traveled over your body. You wore a cabernet colored maxi dress with wedge sandals tied to your feet with white ribbons, like pointe shoes, and you had never felt more exposed than you did right then as he licked his lips, looking at you like prey. “You’re in the wrong place then, darlin’. We’re all aviators around here.”

“Well aware,” you sighed, turning back to the bar and waiting for your drinks. When the bartender approached and set your drinks down, you smiled warmly at her. “Thank you, Penny.”

The older woman grinned back, always happy to see you. She’d known you most of your life, though she was in and out of it at the will of your uncle, a typical flyboy incapable of settling down. You would never understand why she kept coming back to him after he broke her heart so many times. “Who’s your friend?” she asked, looking him over briefly. Penny knew how you felt about Navy guys, but she enjoyed teasing you.

“Not my--”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin, ma’am. Callsign Hangman.” He offered his most charming smile as he cut you off and lifted his right hand from the bar to offer it to Penny.

You immediately took the opportunity to duck under his arm, grabbing the drinks on the bar in front of you. Penny laughed as Jake watched you slide away from him and head back to the table with your coworkers. “Better behave, she’s the owner,” you called back, your hands full of glasses.

“A pleasure, Lieutenant,” she took his hand and shook it before wiping down the bar where your drinks had just been. His eyes followed you across the bar, and she snapped the back of his hand with the towel. “You won’t wear her down. She’s got a million reasons not to go anywhere near Navy guys. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

When you got back to your table, you snuck a glance back toward the bar, watching Penny give Jake what she was sure was a warning about you. He didn’t look phased though, and within minutes he had moved on to another girl a few seats away at the bar, repeating the same move he had done with you.

“Predictable,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as your coworkers chatted, rating the various aviators in the bar. You largely ignored them as you took a long drink from your beer, looking out the window at the sun setting over the ocean when you heard the tinkle of piano keys interrupting your thoughts. The old upright in the bar hadn’t been played in as long as you could remember, usually the only time you heard it at all was when someone got too drunk and fell into it.

From your seat you could only see the back of the man playing, but you could tell he was an aviator. Dressed in his service whites, his broad shoulders were pulled back with perfect posture as he tapped away at the keys, getting the feel for the instrument before he started playing an all too familiar song.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain, Too much love drives a man insane…”

The sound of his voice made your stomach flip as if you were in a F/A-18. “No fucking way…” you breathed, not taking your eyes off of the back of the man’s head as he played.

“What?” Kendra asked, stopping her conversation with Hazel to turn in the direction of the piano player, then back to you, confused as to your reaction.

You didn’t answer as you stood, your steps cautious as you made your way across the bar in his direction. It couldn’t be. It had been nearly fifteen years since you last heard from him, the night he left for the last time.

Without saying goodbye.

“Jesus, Bradshaw! Not this song again! Is it the only one you know?” Hangman complained, not far from the piano and chatting up what was probably his fourth girl of the evening. Hearing his name was all the confirmation you needed.

Bradley wasn’t deterred by Hangman’s whining, instead he just continued singing, the bar joining in. He had always been good at being the center of attention when he wanted to be.

“You broke my will, but what a thrill, Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

Moving closer, you slipped into his line of sight without a word, a combination of emotions you didn’t understand bubbling up inside of you. He looked just like his father from the pictures you had seen, but at the same time he was still the teenager you had known so long ago.

“I laughed at love ‘cause I thought it was funny, You came along and…”

Looking up, his voice trailed off and his fingers faltered on the keys, making a sour note as he made eye contact with you. There was a long, awkward moment of silence as the entire bar watched on, curious as to what was happening.

He couldn't believe you were standing in front of him. The last place he had expected to find you was anywhere near anything having to do with the Navy, even if it was just a bar. And now here you were, staring at him as if you were seeing a ghost. Though he supposed he didn't look too much different. “You look good, Dimples.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at the nickname, and before you knew what you were doing, your hand reached out and slapped him across the face as hard as you could. The same hand flew to cover your mouth as you gasped at the realization of what you did. He didn’t immediately turn his head back to face you, and it made you feel even more nauseous.

It was so quiet a pin could drop. Embarrassment flooded over you and your eyes moved around the bar frantically before landing back on Bradley. When you realized his eyes were still on you, a sob only muffled by your hand escaped before you turned and ran out the back doors to the beach, barely stopping to get your purse and tell your friends you were going home on your way out.

There was no way this wouldn't be the talk of North Island tomorrow.

It remained silent until the door to the deck slammed shut behind you, then people started whispering amongst themselves, stealing glances at Bradley. Hangman had a smug grin on his lips as he stepped up behind his fellow aviator, clapping a hand on his shoulder as he leaned down to speak quietly.

“Damn, Rooster. I thought I was the only one who could earn that level of ire from women. Kinda hot, right?”

He shoved Jake’s hand away and stood, grabbing his cover off the top of the piano before heading toward the door you had exited from. “Fuck off, Bagman,” he snapped, hoping you hadn’t gotten too far.

Chapter Two

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic

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junekicks · 2 years

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she’s a quiet thing ♱ eddie munson

It was the smell of coconut and weed that had your head feeling all fuzzy and warm. You might as well been on fire with how heavy the smell felt, despite your body laying on your cold bathroom tile flooring. White frilly socks covered your feet, and they were kicked up onto a closed toilet lid. Your moon eyes were closed and hiding from the world, hiding from Eddie.

He seem to notice. Your silence gave you away. More quiet than usual.

Eddie was taking cover in your tub. His hairs thrown up in a low bun, the front pieces are damp and stuck to his skin. And his scars and tattoos on full display and it makes him feel a little too seen. And yeah, you weren’t looking at him, but still. He wasn’t really sure why he suddenly care, you were his best friend. You both had seen each other, why was now any different?

Because you’re so quiet. Worse than usual. That ticked a nerve in his chest.

His half dry fingers held a joint, and his wrist nearly hung off the tubs edge. The waters almost too warm for his skin. Smoke passes his lips like song lyrics being told. “You okay, love?” His voice frightens you and the silence, your eyes flinch open and you have to crane your neck a little to see his full face. The pale moon face of his lolled against the bathroom wall to look down at you. “Really quiet today.”

His voice is gently and raspy all at once.

You shrug gently against the floor tiles, fingertips tapping at your clothed stomach. It’s too late and your mother should be home soon from her shift at the hospital, but no one makes an effort to move. She’s starting to warm up to the town’s freak anyway. “I think I forget to speak sometimes.”

Eddie blows a final blow. You feel like you can feel it on your face. He shuffles a little, bubbly water moves around him as he leans, putting out the joint into a heart made tray by your head. He smells like coconuts and honey, like you normally do. “Thought we said that was okay. S’just who you are. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”

Your eyes move to the boy. “I don’t think everyone thinks that, though.” And that’s why you’re even more quiet, he understands it now, someone did something. The boy raises a brow, “something happen today?”

You shrug again. “It’s what didn’t happen.”

Suddenly you’re sitting up, pushing yourself closer to the tub as the blood rushes from your head. Little stars in your eyes. “The girls today, all talking at lunch about what to do for Chrissy’s birthday. It’s a surprise party, and I was the one who came up with the idea awhile back. And today we’re finally talking about it, and everyone’s putting ideas in. Heather’s writing them down, it’s sweet of her. And I just can’t seem to get anything out. I try to open my mouth, and nothing! My head just wont let me speak, everything I want to say is stupid..”

The boy smiles gently, one dimple. He looks so pretty like that. “Did anyone ask you anything?”

“No. That’s the thing, no one forced anything out of me. But I could see it on their faces, disappointing. They wanted me to help out and I did too! But.. I just couldn’t say anything. I know they all forgot about it after lunch, but it was bothering me. It still is.”

Eddie leans forward in the tub, fingers creased with age because of his time in the warm water that’s fading cold. He let’s the water drain, bubbles leaving his skin. “Maybe you should write down some of those thoughts. Are we feeling that today?”

You push up from the floor gently, taking a seat on top of the counter as Eddie pulls himself from the tub. Your eyes flicker to the tattoos on his thighs, eyes tracing the dark lines and the placement of the ink makes your cheeks burn. Eddie acts like he doesn’t notice your staring, or how it makes his insides white hot. Maybe you should tell him he makes you feel better, but you don’t really like to speak on that so boldly.

A towel comes around him. His eyes fall on yours and you’re shrugging, again. “I guess I could try.” Eddie smiles gently at your words, coming to stand between your legs. His pinkie drags over the slope of your nose, “I’ll get your pink glitter pen.”

You can’t help and laugh all sugary sweet, he loves that noise and he already knows there’s progress being made with your dampened mood.

And when your mother does get home, tiredness in her eyes, she finds you and Eddie at the dining table. You’re sitting on his lap, eyes glued to a notepad with a pink glitter pen in your hand— writing away. Eddie’s sipping gently on a glass of chocolate milk, the TV is playing past the table. He beams at your mother, and she’s all sweet and grateful because she just knows it’s been another one of those days for you.

But Eddie Munson just seems to know how to make everything better, even when he’s not better himself.. all scars and tattoos. But, that’s a story for another day.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #writing #joe quinn #joe quinn x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #reader with anxiety #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things eddie munson #soph’s place

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uldren-sov · 23 days

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The new normal

A look into the band and a start of what real fame may start to look like as always it GOT AWAY FROM ME and initially it was just going to be the ending bit but if I don't give context I will explode ~3k words lil @infamous-if ficlet Camy Rose is mine! Everyone else (but those fans) are canon

✩

Camy should not be alive right now. Or at least, she should not be awake right now, not after the party that happened last night. It’s day two of a two day music fest and even though they had two-day passes, they were only scheduled to perform on day one. Which meant the after-party for all the other bands also only playing on the first day had every right going as hard as it did, but had no right leaving her in the state that it did.

She remembers doing her due diligence: rubbing elbows, laughing, networking, and making fast friends with the right people. She remembers the flashes of recognition, the compliments on her band’s performance and their newest album, the excitement of the connection was happening with other bands, mutual comments of admiration, and all of the selfies and pics and tags to show off brand new friends. She also remembers the tight smiles, the sympathy in some words, the condolences that still haven’t gone away, because despite their new album – Gambit – finally coming out (more like getting ripped out of her like a bullet would in an action movie), despite it doing better numbers than she would have ever expected, despite it getting better reception than she anticipated, despite it being over a year later, despite Soft Violence’s debut; the breakup, the breakdown was still on everyone’s tongue. She remembers the drinks, the drugs, the laughter, the dancing, and hands gripping her clothes. She doesn’t remember much after that.

But at least she woke up in her hotel room, not only with all her clothes on, but on the correct way, without any kind of signs that there was anyone else here besides Jazzy. Small victories and she’ll take them where she can get them. Wait, Jazzy? She doesn’t remember falling back asleep but the next time she opens her eyes – it’s raining? The rain is warm and it’s soaked her through, her clothes feeling like a weird, warm, weighted blanket. No, that’s stupid. It’s not raining inside. She’s in a white tub, in a white tiled bathroom, and Jazzy has her chin propped up on her hand at the edge of the tub smiling as their eyes meet.

“I’m not going to recreate that Vine-” the headache bursts behind Camy’s eyes and she’s scrambling to hunch over the tub’s drain in the next second. Hands drag her long navy hair away from her face as she dry heaves with her whole back curling with the effort. A gulp of air wracks her before she rests her head against the cool tile, even as her headache pounds with every beat of her heart. “I’m good.” She gasps, sagging down and curling into a more comfortable position, nausea sharp in her stomach even if the soft patter of water alleviates some of the tension across her body.

The familiar snapping of a top twisting open reverberates in the small bathroom as a plastic bottle is pressed into her grip.

“You’re amazing,” Camy groans, blindly sipping the electrolyte filled drink. She knows immediately she needs to stop after just a couple of sips.

“You know it,” Jazzy says gently. “I’m kinda feeling nostalgic, actually. It’s been a hot second since we’ve done these, like, frat party recovery sleepovers,” she teases gently, placing the bottle on the corner of the tub so it won’t have too much water in it from the shower.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” she replies around the pounding in her head. “Though look at you, being the responsible one and not being here in the tub with me. Guess I owe Chris something for stealing you last night.” Peeking an eye open she dares a shaky smile as she draws herself up straight with even shakier arms. Jazzy watches her closely, just in case she might slip or collapse or something. Even if she wants to tell her she’s worrying over nothing, they’ve both been fucked up with each other during college. So she’ll hold onto her conclusions and be thankful for the safety net.

“Designated driver, Camy-baby. I got you and don’t worry about him.” And Camy feels some hair getting drawn out of her face. “By the way, no need for any damage control. Or, well, at least from you. Not sure who Rowan went off with. But! Your phone’s been blowing up, and we got a ton of good feedback on our Insta after yesterday. You were on fire, girl, and I’m glad you got to let loose.”

Is that what I was doing? Sure, partying now is part of her work, and Jazzy’s summary does put some part of her mind that isn’t screaming at her, at ease. But she can admit to herself she might have gone a bit overboard…

“‘Kay, good,” she groans. Reaching out, Jazzy puts the bottle back in her hand before she gets it herself. As she sips from her bottle and lets the warm shower rain over her face, she thinks she’s slowly feeling better. “And maybe once I get over this hangover I’ll agree that partying as hard as I did was a good idea.” She dares a smile because she doesn’t dare trying to laugh along with Jazzy, yet. “I’m better. I’m good. Go check on the others.”

“All right. Love ya,” Jazzy says as she gets to her feet as Camy hums affirmatively in response. “Want help putting your face on later?”

“No. We’re not performing and I did enough work last night. I’m just a civilian today,” she smiles a little more pointedly and Jazzy backs off.

Camy manages to hold on until the hotel door closes before she turns and barfs her guts out.

An hour later and she’s found herself in the full length mirror, showered and dried, in clean, dry clothes, glaring at what she sees.

When Seven ripped the rug out from under her with his move – showing up after a month of radio silence to being caught with boxes of his things stacked near the front door – he left three things behind: his favorite, red, “7” guitar pick because it was under the cushion of a chair he didn’t take; the hoodie he’s had since he was 16 because it got lost between drawers, and; his leather jacket she was wearing as she walked through the door and fought for what would be their last time. She brought the hoodie with her on this trip because it was still the most comfortable thing she owned. Once three, now two, sizes bigger on Seven, she used to be able to curl her legs into her chest and drag it over her whole body to nap on the bus with it. Now it hangs off her, covering her fingertips and nearly covering up the rips and embroidery on the thighs and knees of her jeans. Pair it with her old, trashed, sneakers and completely fresh face, and she looks exactly like she did when she was 17.

Her hair is longer now, and, well, blue, instead of brown, but can she even say she changed that much? Seven years later and it still feels like she’s waiting to grow up, to work off the shine of adolescence and be beautiful, to find some sign of being different from who she used to be. Maybe she’s even looking for a scar, a sign in her eyes that would tell people she’s different, she’s more mature, she’s irrevocably broken, she’s hanging on by digging her nails and teeth into the things that used to come so easy to her.

What does survivor’s guilt look like on a person?

Whatever it is, she doesn’t find it. There’s nothing there. Just miserable Little Camila staring back at her.

She ducks away from her reflection before it has time to judge her, putting on a cap and the hood over the top of it.

…Maybe her cheekbones are a little more pronounced.

It’s not long until she’s back at the music festival. The whole event is set up as a couple of stages at the back of a massive grass lot, to get to it the fans have to pass through a lane full of tents with merch from bands and food. At the mouth of it is a decorated arch with ticket booths and security and it is still so cool that she can flash her badge saying Talent and just – get into places like this now. Looking back at the lines and, even with her hazy mind, she can manage to appreciate how her band is slowly going from being the people in the lines, to the ones they’re paying to see.

She tucks her badge back underneath her hoodie and sips from the sports drink she bought from a vending machine as she shuffles further in. Dressed down like she is people just pass by her like she’s invisible, which she gets. She’s dressed like she’s in high school, it makes sense that people treat her like she’s back in high school too. At least she’s free to catch up on social media and the hot mess of a group chat with her band trying to coordinate a meet up. Collecting the clues of what happened last night through photos and messages, following up on some texts, and reaching out to others, she makes her way to where they’re all meeting up as music starts filtering through the air.

“I’m telling you guys, I think I’m in love,” she catches Rowan’s voice first as she finds them standing around, looking way more the part of musicians, or at least attending a show than she is; especially Rowan who’s still in last night’s clothes. “He was just so- oh, shit, Camy. It’s that kind of morning, huh?” His laugh rattles in her brain as the rest of the band regards her with a spectrum of wary surprise to clear amusement. Flicking her arms out to get her hands out of the sleeves, she grins brightly as she flips them the double birds.

“Fuck off, I did my time. I’ve earned the right to be comfy today and chill.” She says lightly as she gives him a side-hug to a chorus of light laughter and smiles. She goes around to the others, murmuring ‘morning’ and giving half-hugs and casual greeting kisses to the air beside their cheeks.

“Aw, I’m going to miss my mosh-pit buddy today,” Jazzy chirps in. Chris emerges behind his girlfriend and hands Camy the final coffee in a four-cup cup holder. She exchanges it for a cheek kiss with a quick thanks, and she gestures to him.

“Isn’t that what he’s for?” She smiles with a wink as Chris settles a strong hand on Jazzy’s shoulder.

“It’d be an honor to be in the crowd with you, babe,” he vows down to Jazzy, managing to keep a straight face even as Camy and Rowan snort and Iris shakes her head a little.

“I wouldn’t have anyone else be my back-up.” She purses her lips together and makes kissy noises at him as she leans in, and of course he plays into it, pursing his lips too and humming until they lean in for just a quick pop of a kiss and a mwah! The rest of them roll their eyes and groans at the display.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Iris teases around her smile.

“But still very cute,” Devyn supplies as they look to Iris expectedly. “Maybe we should be more -”

“Absolutely not,” Iris cuts them off as Devyn just laughs gently, snaking her arm around Iris’ as they lean against her affectionately.

“Gross. We’re honestly so strong dealing with these couples, am I right?” Rowan shoots to Camy with a grin but then stalls out. There’s a flash of alarm and panic as he scans over just what she’s wearing again and all the implication that comes of it. His grin turns brittle and, just for a moment, she lets him stew in it, staring at him flatly.

“For real.” She smiles back brilliantly after a beat. “If I didn’t think I was sick before, I might be now.” She shrugs her shoulders dramatically, marking the motion of heaving before they all dissolve into a lighter mood and she drinks from the lukewarm coffee. “But, might not be the case anymore because you’re in love? Again?” She narrows her eyes at her prompting.

“Oh! Phew, yeah! Listen, it was magic, okay? Like, he was so cool and when he-” Rowan started again.

“Oh my god!” A stranger’s voice cuts him off as he groans. All of them turn to regard a group of three people. A young man in a mesh shirt, black shorts and spiked platform boots, the source of the interruption, leads his other two friends who are also decked out in black, studs, and belts over to them. “You’re Chaos Anthem!”

Camy squeezes her eyes closed as she subtly steps back. Dammit, that’s right. No such thing as downtime anymore, is there? Not when they are actually getting recognized more and more often. They all glance to her quickly before Iris steps forward with a confident smile.

“That’s right,” and even though she’s opening her mouth to say more, Boots cuts her off with a gasp.

“I saw your set yesterday-”

“We saw your set yesterday!” One of his friends cuts in, a girl in a short, tight dress that looks like it could double as lingerie. “So awesome.”

“I love the new album!” The third cuts in, the three of them getting closer and slowly crowding Camy out. The band all look between the fans and Camy with alarm as she just smiles wider and wider, trying and failing to hide her amusement. What the fuck is happening?

“Yeah! We all bought it and love the new, harder, sound.” Boots says straight to the others as Camy’s attention flits between the praise of these simultaneously very kind and very dense fans, and Devyn staring at her with alarm as they continue. “Rosa sounds so good-” and she nearly chokes on her spit, “-and you guys are killing it!” Her eyes widen as she stares openly at the back of these fans heads now that they have effectively separated her off. Her thanks is on the tip of her tongue before she bites back a laugh at how they continue. Devyn is about to say something but she quickly shakes her head. This is just too good.

“It’s so awesome and so impressive that you all have that ability to just nail it across genres!” Dress says once more before Boots whips out his cell. The band barely has time to get their thanks across before they continue with their praise and Boots shoves his phone at her.

“Can you take a picture of us and Chaos Anthem?” As Chris pulls away to get out of the shot he’s the one who breaks first and laughs aloud. She stares openly for a moment, first at the phone then at Boots, before she manages to get the phone into a better grip.

Turning her back she tries to at least set up the selfie to include her. They wanted the whole band, right? It’d be a dick move to not include herself even if they don’t know. Rowan nods along with the silent decision, throwing his arms around Boots and Dress, as she somehow manages a smile.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Dress cuts in and Camy whips around to the remark, wide-eyed. “Just us! Did I say you, too? Be fucking normal, rando.” And Camy almost loses it, Iris has to duck to the side with the effort to hide her laugh, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Sorry,” Camy manages, lowering her voice as her band all have to hold themselves back now. She set up the shot properly and takes a picture of just them and the band. “Got a few, here.” She hands the phone back and it’s snatched from her hand, the three of them turning their backs on her once again.

“Thanks,” Boots says at least. “It was so great to see you guys! Can’t wait until your next shows! And maybe we’ll be able to catch Rosa - I mean, Camy - then.” With a timber of pride in his tone because he knows her real name. “She’s such an inspiration.” From her place behind them she mimes dramatically ‘such an inspiration.’ Jazzy grins as she tries to signal her to reveal herself but she just shakes her head.

“Yeah, maybe,” Rowan grins at her over their shoulders. “Appreciate the support! You guys are great.” The three of them turn over their shoulder to glance at Camy one more time as she takes a long drink from her coffee. With the cup obscuring even more of her face and her hoodie hiding any kind of shape of her, she doesn’t even blame them as the fans say their goodbyes without another thought. Though she does catch a weird look from them after they leave, most likely as to why some rando is still hanging around the band.

They all wait until their gone before bursting out laughing. It makes her wince, the added effort of laughing aggravates what remains of her hangover as she recovers the quickest.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” Devyn giggles still. Jazzy tapers off her laughter breathlessly, touching up her eyeliner so her tears won’t mess it up.

“I feel like a fucking superhero with a secret identity,” Camy grins wickedly even though she clutches onto what remains of her coffee for dear life. Hangovers suck so bad.

“How did they not know?” Rowan gapes as he shakes his head. “Like, who else could you be?”

“Just another fan trying to get your guys’ attention obviously. If they’re only used to seeing me perform,” she shrugs a shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I could not look more opposite right now to that if I tried.”

“Don’t they know that makeup makes you shapeshift?” Iris rolls her eyes with a smirk.

“You’re joking but-” Rowan starts.

“Quit while you’re behind,” Iris is quick on it as Rowan throws up his hands to another round of chuckles.

“We should post something like, posing with our number one fan,” Jazzy says with a grin though Camy just shakes her head.

“Maybe some other time. It does have me thinking that we can start posting less like, official stuff, and more us hanging out? Makes us seem more approachable, maybe doing some QnA streams? Adding what we do in our downtime together, rather than just keeping that to our personals,” she suggests as the rest of her band give various noises or gestures of agreement.

As they begin to wander toward a performance and Rowan finally continues his story about the newest love of his life, Camy removes the hat and hood to fix her very distinct hair. There’s an immediate no fucking WAY! from somewhere behind them and everyone shares a laugh before she fixes her “disguise” back in place. She gets ready for a rare day off, listening to their peers and colleagues, and soaking in any inspiration she can squeeze from the event. It’s been a while since she felt hopeful, but hopefully this is a sign of better things to come.

#Infamous if #Infamous OC #My writing #OC: Camy Rose #lil snapshot of the band!! just inspired mostly by this one vid but lmaooo #had a great time exploring the dynamic a bit more and MAN is it hard juggling so many characters in a scene sheeeesh lolol

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avvail-whumps · 5 months

Note

Could we get a sick Roy with a care taker LIon

“Don’t make me mad,” Roy warned dangerously under his breath, and despite the weariness that he was trying to stubbornly hide, he narrowed his eyes icily.

Leo’s hands retracted back slightly, and he wrapped his arms around his curled up legs, staring at the mercenary with those big eyes. He knew that he shouldn’t care, not just because Roy was his captor, but because he was still sporting a bruise under his eye from when the man had hit him harder than intended. He shouldn’t even consider trying to help.

But Roy had clearly been sick for a couple weeks now. He had easily powered through, but now it was catching up to him, with not doing anything to combat it. He was way too dismissive, and this looked serious.

The mercenary had grabbed his coat, rather abruptly, and Leo could sense that he didn’t like the sickness getting to him like this. He considered saying something as he disappeared towards the front door, but Roy’s clear warning rang in his head.

It was better not to make him mad, right?

But after about a long, tense minute, Leo’s ears didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. It remained terrifyingly quiet, and his eyes stared at the spot where Roy had gone. Hesitantly, he rose off the couch.

“Roy?” He whispered softly, peaking around the corner to find the man leaning against the wall, rubbing his temples with his hand. He didn’t look good at all. In fact, he looked like he might pass out.

Leo begrudgingly approached, like he was walking on thin ice - he was, in a way, since Roy seemed angrier at the fact that he was offering help over being sick in the first place. When his hand met his arm without a threatening remark, Leo managed to relax just an inch.

“I think...you should lie down,” he softly suggested, and he gently eased Roy away from the wall. His jaw was clenched in anger, but he could only manage a slurred curse, moving alongside him. Leo’s heart raced in his chest all the way up to the second floor, his mind wandering for a second.

Roy’s room was off limits. Leo wasn’t allowed in there no matter what.

He needed his own room, so that only left the guest rooms on the second floor. Leo gently guided Roy to one of the rooms next to his, shifting the door open. It was hard to manoeuvre a guy this big, who had broken a clammy sweat just walking from the door to the room, and his eyes were all glazed and lidded.

Leo carefully ushered him to the bed, and Roy let out a curt curse once again.

“Fuck sake, lion,” he grumbled, but the moment his head hit the fresh pillow, the complaint drained out of him. Leo wondered why he let his sickness get this bad. He rushed next door to his room to grab some spare blankets, and then tucked them over the sheets.

He gently pressed a hand to Roy’s forehead, who tutted and jerked his head away.

“You’re burning up,” Leo murmured softly, and the mercenary scoffed.

“Yeah, you think?”

“Did you eat something bad?”

The mercenary groaned in pain, and his narrowed eyes managed to find Leo’s face with an icey glare. “I don’t know, lion. Did I?”

He shrivelled back. He didn’t want Roy to think he’d done something bad to the food; he couldn’t have, and they both knew that. His tense body relaxed a little bit. Even when he was sick, he still wanted to torment him.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Where’s, um, the medicine again?”

Roy sucked in a breath, a wheezy cough rattling his ribs. “Bathroom. Third floor.”

Leo nodded, and vigilantly raced up. He made sure he didn’t accidentally snoop in Roy’s room, before gathering the medicine and returning back to him. He grabbed everything that he needed.

Roy had been displeased when he tried to help him drink some water, demanding he wasn’t incompetent, but Leo knew he wouldn’t even have the strength to hold the glass when he looked like that. He pushed back his hair and set a damp, cold cloth on his forehead, to which the mercenary hummed contently at.

It seemed to be a fever, and a pretty bad one. He helped him swallow down some medicine, but by then, he’d gone all uncooperative and Leo had panicked thinking something had happened. When he realised he was still breathing, and just asleep, he felt a flood of relief wash through him.

He tended to Roy for the rest of the day. Gently wiped the sweat again, gave him more blankets when he needed and even made him some soup. By then, Roy could at least feed himself, but he was still red face and his throat was stuffed.

When the night came, Leo was exhausted. Sitting beside Roy’s bed, he’d fallen asleep with his head resting in his arms, leaning against the comfortable blankets. He had been staring at Roy’s face before, wondering to himself, why was he even doing this?

He could have escaped.

He could have left Roy to rot away and found his way back home. But looking at his uncomfortable red face, Leo realised that it was impossible for him to leave the mercenary in such a bad state.

Maybe he was stupid.

But a part of him liked being in control, even for just a little bit.

When the sunlight streaked through the window, Leo was awoken by a hand gently carding through his hair. He blinked wearily, stirring awake, but the touch was so comforting and so soothing, that it coaxed him back into a slumber.

He didn’t hear Roy’s words, staring down at him with a weaker fever, shaking his head slightly.

“Idiot,” he sighed, before taking his medicine by himself and drifting back off to sleep.

#ask #guns for hire request #guns for hire special #guns for hire #whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump drabbles #sickfic #whumper #whumpee #sickness #leo and roy #writing #my writing #avvail whumps

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clickerflight · 9 months

Text

Burned at the stake: Part 2

We vibe. I really like this part, actually, especially at the end. The basis of this is that one time my mum gouged her hand on accident, and it hurt a lot when it healed because there had been a nerve ending that needed to grow back there a little.

Now imagine it for an entire body.

Content: Vampire whumpee, questionable caretakers, discussions on how to keep a vampire trapped, blood, semi detailed description of a vampire growing back their body, burning

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list

Part 1

.......................................

“Eurgh,” Joanna muttered to herself. She stood in the bathroom stall, case open on the back of the toilet. They only had about 20 minutes of stillness from the heart so she waited till she and Kyle were near the front of the line before going to the bathroom to hide the heart. She had lifted the board she’d use to get the heart to freeze flatter and saw the now white thing covered in ice crystals. She had a tanktop under her bra to try and keep the ice off her skin directly, but this was still going to be unpleasant.

“Are you alright?” a heavily accented voice from another stall asked and Joanna nearly swore and dropped the heart into the toilet.

“Er, yeah. I’m fine,” Joanna said, steeling herself to be silent as she hid the heart.

She slid the heart under her shirt, leaving the case in the bathroom and leaving the stall. She washed her hands, checking to see if the heart would be too visible, and left the bathroom before the other woman could leave her stall. She took her place in line next to Kyle.

They put their bags on the conveyor, put shoes and belts where they needed to be and passed through the detector. The cold of the heart was starting to melt and she was grateful that she'd put it in a ziplock bag so the water didn’t show through her thick shirt, though, at this point, any water stain that showed up would probably match her pit stains.

She sighed as they were passed through and her and Kyle started heading to the plane. As they finished loading, the heart began to move and she quickly slipped it down her shirt and into her bag.

“You’re doing it next time,” she muttered to Kyle, who just made a face.

…………………

There was a heart on her kitchen counter. And she didn’t know what to do with it. Kyle had gone home after making sure she was settled. As settled as one could be with a heart beating steadily against the cold marble. She should sleep. The plane trip had been stressful and there had been some confusion with the luggage, but she couldn’t… well, she couldn’t help but feel bad about just leaving the heart to thump alone through the night.

The heart hadn’t shown any sign of growing back, and according to the internet, that wasn’t a good thing. It meant that the vampire was either diseased or severely starved. How long had the heart been out there to let a vampire drain completely dry? Did the sun speed up the process? How long?

Joanna felt like she was losing her mind watching the heart on the counter. It hadn’t even healed where she had torn it off the pole. She couldn’t…. Leave it like that, right? From what she understood of vampires, being just a heart was incredibly awful.

Joanna bit her lip. “I’ll be back,” she muttered, brushing her hand over the heart. She got out a thing of frozen beef, poking a hole in the wrapping and leaving it on the plate. A bit of beef blood should leak out and she could leave the heart in it overnight. She wasn’t really interested in poking herself to feed the vampire, especially if it turned out that the vampire was dangerous.

Still, she’d see if there were any butchers nearby in the morning where she could buy some blood for the heart.

She stayed up, listening to music and reading up on vampires and how they work and all the details about them while the meat thawed. Finally, she moved the meat to another plate and stuck it in the fridge. She might use it for breakfast the next morning.

Joanna picked up the heart and it pulsed against her hand in what she interpreted as a friendly way, though its pulse picked up whenever she held it, like it remembered being frozen.

“Sorry about that,” she said softly. “You’ll like this much better.”

She put the heart on the plate in the middle of the blood, stared at it for a moment, and then turned to go to bed without any further decorum.

………………………

The Heart sat in the East hands. The Heart wasn’t certain of what the hands would do to it this time. Last time had been…. Unpleasant? The Heart couldn’t truly decide what to feel about it. It had been cold and dark and then it had been warm and the Heart could feel the East Heart very near. What was the purpose of it? What did it mean? What did the hands want with it now?

Then, the East hands gently placed it on a surface slick with-

The Heart was very content that night and the faint pain of missing flesh on the heart faded after only an hour.

………………………

Kyle stood nervously at Joanna’s door, waiting. He rang the doorbell more frequently than he probably should have, but all he could imagine was Joanna bleeding on the heart and the thing exploding into a monster that killed her overnight. The stake hidden in his pocket didn’t feel heavy enough to be a good weapon, though he knew that it would be enough. Everyone knew. It was just a fact, wasn’t it?

The door opened and Joanna in all of her PJ glory glared at him.

“Get in here,” she said, annoyed, stepping back.

“Sorry,” he said, glad to see her okay and also quite displeased with her tone of voice. “Don’t mind me. I was just worried you’ve been eaten.”

She scoffed. “Eaten? Seriously, do you know anything about vampires? Even with a barrel of blood the heart wouldn’t grow back enough to eat me in one night.”

“Can I see?”

She waved him over to the kitchen where the heart was laid out on a plate. It pumped along happily enough. There were some stains on the plate, but it seemed that the now pink heart had absorbed most of it. The damage to its side was healed and it had even started to grow back its aorta and some fatty tissue.

“See, harmless,” she said, rolling her eyes as Kyle gently poked the heart, noticing the way it flinched back a little.

“Okay, harmless, but you’re not actually thinking of growing it all back, are you? It’s not safe!”

“Kyle. I’m not stupid. I’m making a plan, okay.”

“What kind of plan?”

“Well,” Joanna said, sounding a little uncomfortable now. “It’s, ah, I have a shed out back. I'm gonna clear it out and line it with silver or something. I was going to start planning it out today.”

“You’re….going to keep a vampire in your shed?”

“Only until I know it’s safe,” Joanna said with a shrug.

“And how are you so sure?” Kyle asked, raising an eyebrow. “That it’ll be safe?”

Joanna shrugged, glancing at the pulsing heart.

Kyle shook his head. “You’re insane. We’re insane. We shouldn’t be doing this. We should pass it off to one of those organizations that deal with this sort of thing.”

Joanna frowned, glancing at the heart herself. They should. But she didn’t want to. She wanted to know what the vampire knew, what sorts of things it saw. She… almost needed to know. The vampire was in the middle of Africa in a hidden jungle with enough ash to make a permanent clearing. How old was it? Where was it born? She needed to know.

“I’ll handle it, Kyle,” she said cheerfully. “Okay?”

Kyle gave her a look. “Okay. I… have to go help some friends write up some papers. Talk to you later.”

“See ya,” Joanna said, and Kyle was gone just as nervously as he came.

……………………………..

Joanna let the heart only have faint blood leavings as she worked. Now that she had decided to build up her shed to hold a vampire, she worked on it faster than anything else she’d ever done. Of course, silver was very expensive so she had taken to looking up other ways to keep a vampire contained. If she just had silver cuffs attaching the vampire to something like a silver pole, it shouldn’t be able to cause her harm, and she would always carry a stake with her. The internet had revealed that vampires tended to be very weak after growing all the way back and would remain so for a while, so it ought to be easy.

Joanna looked at the prices of the items she would need and winced. It was all so expensive. She wished she could have taken the silver chains from that clearing and just paid a silversmith to use some of the links to make the cuffs.

She sighed and left her computer alone. She opened her kitchen drawer to grab a fork, prepared to eat some leftovers when she paused. She got the forks from a garage sale and found out later that they were silver. She wondered…..

…………………..

“So, uh, I thought you were growing it back,” Kyle asked, watching the heart on the counter. It pulsed along contentedly, now nearly covered in fatty tissue and starting to develop more veins. Still, it hadn’t grown much from where it had been.

“I am,” Joanna replied cheerfully. “Slowly. I’ll give it what it really needs when I have the shed done.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Great! I’m planning on putting a table or cot or something for it to lay on and covering the floor in these silver coins. I got them for a great deal from some older people who are cleaning out their house. I also managed to get in touch with a silversmith who agreed to get me some of his oxidized shaving I can put down too. Then the vampire can’t touch the floor and I’m going to figure out something to cuff a leg or whatever to the table so it can’t jump at me. Silver lock on the door, of course, already got that.”

“You’re really going for it,” Kyle said, feeling a little… sick? This was a person they were talking about. They were talking about how to trap someone in her shed. Then again, he had suggested it. He had wanted her to be safe but now…..

“Right? I can’t believe I was just going to grow it back without thinking about precautions. Thank you, Kyle.”

A needling voice in the back of his head said, yeah, thank you Kyle. He couldn’t help but imagine it was the vampire saying it.

…………………………

It was finished. Joanna stood in the shed, plate in hand with the heart and smiled at it all. The floor was covered in little silver trinkets, the silver lock shone in the sun, and the wood table stood ready for the Heart. She put it down and grabbed the bucket of pig's blood she had bought, opening it up and breathing through her mouth as she used a measuring cup to scoop some out and pour it on the plate around the heart. The heart pulsed faster in excitement and began to turn red as the blood infused with its cells, spreading all throughout. With so much blood to feed from, Joanna could watch the tissue grow back, the veins spreading out like little feelers, flesh starting to form properly around the heart, and even the pale beads of what looked to be bone beginning to form under the heart.

Joanna grinned and watched for a long time. She left only to get a stool to sit on and watch. She felt almost special to see a vampire regenerate from its baseline, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. As the ribs started properly forming, she even pulled out her phone to record it as muscles formed behind the heart to separate it from the bones. It seemed that once the beginnings of bones formed the body focused on reforming those and the muscles and ligaments needed to hold it all together before worrying about the other flesh.

A spine had developed and the beginnings of a skull when Joanna finally convinced herself to sleep. She took the cup and drizzled blood all over the body one more time before closing the bucket and leaving, locking the door behind her.

……………………

Blood. There was so much blood. The Heart had been content with what little it had been given as it eased the aches and gave it something interesting to focus on. Now, there was a plethora of it. The Heart consumed it eagerly, healing and regenerating. It could not feel outside of itself yet, but it knew it had more flesh than before, and would happily keep growing it. There was a faint strangeness that started to develop away from it. Like the awareness was beginning to migrate ever so slowly up a column. The heart sensed it with interest, intrigued by the feeling of it all.

There was a snap and suddenly there was only pain. He had no mouth with which to scream, no ears to hear or eyes to see. There was just the violent pain that seared up his spine, like someone was taking a silver knife and splitting him in half. He couldn’t move since he didn’t have enough muscles built yet. He couldn’t do anything but lay there and take it.

His mind whited out with the pain, the exact sensations printed into his memory. Esial was a being made of pain, and the pain was spreading as nerve endings spread into flesh. It felt like he was having his flesh gouged out with sharpened spoons. What little muscle he had was beginning to cramp as it flinched and pulled, trying instinctively to get away. He still couldn’t scream, but as more muscles formed, he started to spasm and move what little of his body he had, which was little more than a ribcage, skull, and spine.

He writhed on the surface he was laid upon. The surface disappeared and he landed on something that burned him, adding to his pain and slowing the regeneration. He writhed about, trying to escape the burning. He didn’t deserve this. He killed those people to protect himself but he didn’t deserve this! Why was this to be his eternity? Constant suffering was all he had known for so long. What had he done to deserve this? Why were his thoughts so loud? Why couldn’t he get away from the burning.

He wished desperately that he could scream.

Part 3

Esial: @whumpsday @honeycollectswhump

#vampire whump #whump #questionable caretaker #regeneration whump #silver whump #burning #boi is in for it #let me tell you

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otteranha · 1 year

Text

part 1 Part 3 of the snowed in blackout at Steve’s house fic*

*did I skip part 2 because this section was finished and wouldn’t get out of my brain? yes, yes I did. apologies for any confusion, part 2 will be out sometime.

It was nearly 6 o’clock and the chaos had dulled to a simmer. Eddie had to admit that it was a lot of hosting to take on for a lot of long, dark, empty hours if Harrington had been letting the kids stay over since the storm. No wonder the guy looked shell shocked. Once the question of the television was officially out, Eddie got the kids circled up, passing around a flashlight as they told each other ghost stories. Peace reigning upon earth, Eddie peeled himself off the floor and left the group to their pseudo-campfire tales, and snuck back into the kitchen.

The overhead lights were still on there and in the hallway, everything else dark. Steve was arranging fix-in’s for s’mores on several plates. It was the first time Eddie’d seen him alone all day. Steve looked up, “Hey thanks for your help this afternoon. I think I might actually have lost my mind there if I had to face that lot alone.” Eddie hadn’t expected that. “Oh, no problem. You’re the one doing us a favor really.” “Yeah but you fully made yourself the bad guy back there, with the TV. That- that was a big help.”

“Well, you can’t play good-cop bad-cop all by yourself. They always gang up on you like that?” “Nah,” said Steve, “Usually they’re pretty great. I want to say sweet but that’s giving them too much credit, usually they’re...” “Salty? Savory? Umami?”

Steve laughed. “Sure, let’s go with that. Besides they’re lightyears better people than I was at their age so. I try to cut them some slack.” He trailed off, then exclaimed, “Oh you never got your shower did you?” Eddie, in fact, had not.

“You can go now, if you don’t mind showering by lantern. The water heater’s still getting power.”

“Right now I’d shower by bioluminescent fish if the water was hot.”

Steve laughed again- strangely gratifying. “Let me get this out to them and I’ll grab you a towel.” He disappeared with the snacks. When he returned he lead Eddie not towards his dad’s gym where everyone had been showering all day, but upstairs.

“Luring me into the bowels of Castle Harrington? I’m not going to end up bricked into a wall, am I?” Eddie asked. The hallway was long, deeply carpeted and spookily pristine.

“It’s a mess in there. I swear, not one person cleaned the drain. I should make a sign.” He lead Eddie into a bedroom with an ensuite bathroom tiled all over in what was either pale grey or lavender, impossible to tell by flashlight.

“Your parents don’t mind you letting the rabble invade their room?”

“Oh, this is a spare room.”

Eddie felt himself blush, of course it was a spare room idiot. Because people like the Harrington’s had to spend their money on things like rooms nobody slept in 90% of the time. He bounced around, distracting from his mistake, coming to rest in front of a display of photographs on a presumably empty dresser.

“Must be handy for all those Harrington family get togethers, huh?”

“d’Agostino get togethers actually. My mom’s family. Dad’s an only child.”

“That explains a lot.”

“You’re an only child, aren’t you?” Steve said, but he didn’t sound mad, just matter of fact.

Eddie had to admit his point.”Touchè, your Majesty.”

“They were going to have more kids I guess,” Steve went on, “But mom says she ruined her figure enough just having me.” His tone was light but in the weird flickering light from the flashlights, everything seemed to have a kind of gravity.

“You have a lot of cousins,” said Eddie looking over the photographs- dozens of people with symmetrical faces, standing in symmetrically arranged poses in rows symmetrically arranged frames.

“Yeah. We haven’t seen them in years. Mom stopped talking to her family after my grandpa died. It was tough on her and- ” he cut himself off abruptly.

“And what?” “Nothing.” “Tell me.” “Rich people problems. You don’t want to hear about it.”

“Sure I do,” and to his surprise Eddie did. “Lay that Park Avenue drama on me Harrington.”

“My mom’s got three brothers, she’s the only girl. It’s just that my grandpa was really old school, traditional, you know? He divided everything equally among his kids in his will, but instead of leaving my mom’s share to her he... he put it in a trust. For me, when I turn 21. I don’t know all the details, I was only 10 when he died but I remember she was going to leave my dad. She had an apartment and a lawyer and everything.” He drummed his fingers nervously over the dresser and went on.

"Then her dad died and she was gonna use the money he left her to get away and start over. Only she didn’t get any of it. And her brothers wouldn’t help her out, because they thought she was asking for more than her share. I think she was kind of mad at me too, because grandpa left me the money instead of her. I tried to give it to her once when I was a kid but she just got upset and told me not to mention it again. Anyway she stopped talking to her family after that so. Not many family get togethers.”

“That’s not fair though. It wasn’t your fault, you were just a kid.”

“I know, I think she just couldn’t help being a little mad about it. She’s a good mom though.” Steve raised his chin, defensive. The beam of the flashlight lay across the long column of his neck. “Oh yeah?”

"She could still have left my dad, but he would’ve kept me. His lawyers are really good. And she wasn’t going to leave me with him.”

“I get it,” said Eddie because suddenly, weirdly he did. He had something in common with Steve Harrington. Upstairs in the dark house, it felt like they were the only two people who existed, not in Steve’s parents’ guest room, but some weird pocket realm, through a wardrobe, or a looking glass.

“Do you?”

“I really do Steve.” Eddie cleared his throat, “My mom tried to leave my dad a bunch of times. Sometimes she had to leave in the middle of the night without even a bag but she always took me with her.”

“Oh.” Steve looked at him, this common ground seemingly just as surprising to him as it was to Eddie. “Is she- where is she now? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Drunk driver.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah me too.” They stared a bit, not directly, but pretty steadily at each other’s shoes. Then Steve shook himself, tossing Eddie the towel.

“I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks again for helping with the kids. I really hate it when they get so- when I have to disappoint them like that.”

“Any time you need someone to play the big bad, just whistle. Especially if I can claim all the amenities of chez Harrington, seriously this towel is like a cloud had a baby with a lamb.”

“Aren’t lambs already babies?”

Eddie snorted. “Semantics. Now shoo.” Steve shooed.

#steddie #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things fic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson

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antilocaprine · 1 year

Note

If you're still accepting those fake fic titles, how about "Hey Moon, Please Forget to Fall Down" (Line from an old ass panic at the disco song I like a lot)?

As with any song lyrics, I had to look up the song - and I have heard this before, though it's been a while. I read the lyrics before I listened to it again, and the lyrics are interesting - I get a mythical/fairy tale kind of vibe from them. And then the song itself sounds very summery. That combination makes me think of some kind of faerieland AU Frenrey fic where Gordon stumbles into the fae realm on Midsummer, when the borders between worlds are thin and passage is easier, even accidental. He meets Benrey, another lost soul, who assures Gordon he's not human - but c'mon, he clearly is. Especially compared to the beings who find them almost immediately: Tommy is a bright-shining dandelion spirit, who appears free-floating and almost naively positive, but can also turn on a dime and break through concrete. Coomer is an oak dryad, powerful and sturdy, but kind enough to let anyone rest in the shade of his tree's branches. And Bubby is a fire spirit, living in symbiosis with Coomer's oak woodlands, but liable to flare up into an inferno at any slight.

The other three are acting weird about Benrey attaching himself to Gordon and following him through the fae realm as he tries to get home, but they end up helping (with varying levels of enthusiasm). Eventually, Gordon finds himself standing before the shining ranks of the Summer Court, carrying the spoils of his various quests in a bid to be allowed to return to the mortal realm. The Green Man (who is dressed in midnight blue and has icy blue eyes, so Gordon doesn't get what THAT'S about) passes judgement that Gordon will not be allowed to return - it is no longer Midsummer, and opening a way through would take too much energy. He'll have to wait for a year until next Midsummer. But Gordon knows time passes differently in the fae realm, and a year there could be a century in the mortal realm. Plus he'd be forced to eat or drink if he stayed there for a year, which would mean he's stuck regardless.

Just as Gordon is about to fall into despair, the ground rumbles and the Summer Court straighten and glance about fearfully. The Green Man's eyes flash brighter and he says carefully "...but perhaps...we should consult the Captain...of the Guard..."

And then Benrey steps forward and shrugs. "Yeah, I think he can leave? He's not, uh, he's not supposed to be here, anyway, so...I mean, you're the G-Man, you can do what you want, but, uh, it might not turn out...great. For you."

Then Tommy moves out of the throng to sling an arm around Gordon's shoulders and grins up at the fuming Green Man, who deflates at the sight of his golden-bright son taking the human's side. A prince of the Summer Court should not consort with mortals, but this one didn't have much choice when his granite-soul guard captain took a shine to the lost human. The thing about stone is that it can change, just on a different timescale than plants and animals. And every stone remembers when it was once living magma. Very few stone spirits end up in the fae courts, but when they do, they are unnervingly powerful, with the capability to tear the ground out from under dryads or split the earth beneath a lake, draining it of water and life. As soon as the earth grumbled with the threat of a quake, Benrey was holding the whole of the Summer Court in his hand, as if he'd grown to the size of a mountain and scooped them into his palm.

And then Gordon gets to decide if he wants to go home or stay and ends up accidentally becoming an honorary member of the Summer Court anyway because he's under Benrey's (and Tommy's) protection. The end.

send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it

#askbox #echoing-interests #ask game #fic title ask game #hlvrai #frenrey #AUs are fun #it's even more fun to think about them when there's no stress to actually write them out #long post

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greatideas-badwriter · 7 months

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Worth The Risk: Chapter 12

Mature Content Warning!

Sakura cried freely for a long time, relieved she no longer had to hide it. Sasuke didn't say a word and just held her there while falling asleep.

The thing that had her so shaken up was a text message. When the woman moved to Oto, she changed her number in hopes no one from Konoha would be able to contact her. It seemed successful until her ex's name crossed the screen with the message, 'I love you,' and nothing else. It was like someone had thrown her into a bathtub full of icy water and held her down so she couldn't come up for air.

'What does it mean? Did he send it because he's found me, or is he just trying to scare me? But how did he get my new number? No one from back home has it. Not even Hinata!'

Hinata Hyuuga is the only one Sakura considered a friend, though they weren't all that close. It's just that she knows the softspoken woman doesn't have the heart to befriend someone with bad intentions.

The Haruno girl's fingers clenched handfuls of Sasuke's shirt more tightly than before, inching closer still and silently begging the comforting warmth he offered to chase away her anxious terror. It definitely helped.

In the morning, the Uchiha man surprised her by forcing her to ride to school in his car, which she'd refused since moving into the Akatsuki house. Now that they're getting along better, she wasn't as inclined to continue denying the favor. That doesn't mean that everything's fine between them, though.

'He still hasn't said a word about the fact that he's a fucking gangster, much less that he knowingly tricked me into becoming involved with multiple dangerous people. I've been surrounded by criminals for weeks without knowing it. He must see me as the biggest idiot in the world.'

She glared at her lap as the man in question drove turned into the college's student parking lot, 'And what was I thinking, letting him kiss me and hanging out with him all day yesterday like we're best friends?'

Needless to say, Sakura was back to being pissed off and scared because the heat of the moment had passed, and her mind had cleared. Now, the woman was even more uncomfortable because Sasuke thought she was over it when, in reality, she'd been too swept up in overwhelming emotions and the drama that'd occurred.

"Are you gonna sit there all damn day? C'mon."

Sasuke was an asshole a lot of the time, but especially in the morning. Frowning silently, Sakura got out of the car and pointedly ignored him as she walked toward the entrance. He didn't say anything. Hell, he might not have even followed her. She wasn't sure because she didn't look back to check.

"Good morning, Sakura! Fancy meeting you so early in the morning," Mr. Hatake's familiar voice met her ears, making her face pale as she recalled drunkenly flirting with the college professor.

'Oh great. He probably thinks I have some perverted student and teacher fantasy kink now. Should I apologize or just act like it never happened? I'll wait to see what he does.'

Sakura turned to offer a sheepish grin to the white-haired man, "Good morning, Sir. How are you?"

He grinned from behind his mask, tilting his head as the pair ambled through the crowded entry hall, "Better than you, I assume, since you weren't here yesterday. Did Saturday's party prove too draining?"

Blushing and humiliated since he didn't beat around the bush in the slightest, Sakura brought a palm to her forehead and groaned, "Can we pretend that night never happened? I'm so embarrassed."

Mr. Hatake chuckled warmly and lowered the volume of his voice as he said, "Why? I thought you were quite charming. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I was simply worried you'd gone overboard and become sick. It's a relief to see you looking normal today."

Before she could respond, he nodded toward the same cafe where they'd had coffee together last week, "Coffee? We don't have time to sit and chat, but I'll buy."

Sakura nodded, falling into step at his side, "Shouldn't I buy this time, since you did before?"

They got in line, and the teacher nodded, "Very well, but only if you agree it's my turn next."

It wasn't necessarily scary that her, albeit handsome, older professor was borderline flirting with her, but it was very uncomfortable. She wondered if maybe he was teasing her on purpose to see how flustered she'd get. The woman would feel better if so because that'd mean he wasn't being serious. After getting their coffee, the pair headed for the lecture hall.

Kakashi said, "I was wondering, by the way. Where are you from originally?"

'Oh, no. Should I lie? What if he asks me questions about where I say I'm from, and I don't know how to respond? If I tell the truth, though, what if…? It couldn't hurt to be honest about at least this much.'

"Konoha," she also offered, just in case his next question was the reason for relocating, "I have a cousin who lives here."

"I thought your accent was familiar! I'm friends with many of the professors at Konoha University. Perhaps you met some of them?"

'Shit! I didn't expect him to say that!' "Oh, uh, no. I didn't attend K.U. Sorry!"

They arrived at their destination then, and the woman took the opportunity to excuse herself from the dangerous conversation and find a seat. The entire lesson, Sakura felt like eyes were on her, but she couldn't tell if it was just anxiety. The class after that, the same thing happened. By the end of the school day, she was convinced she was being followed.

The fear was so intense that when she realized Sasuke wasn't at his car yet, she couldn't find it in herself to wait around for him to arrive. No, she began walking home, peeking around each corner and constantly looking over her shoulder to verify that no one was there.

Maybe ten minutes after leaving the school, her phone went off in her pocket, drawing a small squeak of surprise from the poor girl. Sasuke's name crossed the screen, and she clicked the green icon to accept the call, only to hear something rustling behind her.

"Where the hell are you? I've got shit to do today, so hurry up."

When Sakura turned to inspect the sound's source, nothing was there, so she faced forward again, only for the sound to repeat itself. In an absolute panic, she hissed into the phone, "I can't talk right now," and hung up. Then, she pulled her pocketknife out of her coat pocket and held it tightly while walking more briskly.

'Is it him? Has he really found me? I won't let him get the jump on me.'

Once Sakura was within a block of the Akatsuki house, she realized that she'd lead the follower right to her home if she was being tailed. Even if it wasn't her ex, a stalker knowing her address would be bad, so she walked right past the giant house, pointedly not looking its way, just in case.

'What should I do? Do I call Sasuke and tell him what's going on? What if they overhear? What if there's no one, and I'm just being paranoid? He'll never let me live this down. He might not believe me in the future if there actually is trouble, too.'

So, the Haruno woman tried calling Ino and then Karin, only for both of them to be unable to answer because they were at work. If it wasn't for last night's text message, she'd just go home and tell Sasuke about it, but it was too risky now. She trembled but could only keep her head down and her feet moving.

Time passed until the sun had set, and the woman had no choice but to take a break because her legs felt like jelly from moving for over an hour straight. Stepping into a convenience store, she looked around one last time before facing forward. She bought a bottle of water but hesitated to leave after that.

'What if someone is really out there waiting? What if they have a car and they kidnap me?'

"Ma'am, are you alright?"

Sakura jumped, grinning tensely at the gangly checkout boy and quickly lying, "O-Oh, uh, I forgot to buy something. Sorry." The woman went back down one of the aisles, only to crouch and pretend to be browsing for something to eat, but in reality, she was blinking back tears and barely managing not to have a panic attack.

Suddenly, the doors to the store opened again, the employee up front greeting whoever entered as they had her. Only when footsteps could be heard coming her way did she realize someone might be coming in to get her since she didn't go outside.

'It's too late to run now. They're close enough to catch me.'

Sakura gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes closed as she prepared for whatever was about to happen, only to gasp when Itachi's voice met her ears, "Sakura? What're you doing here? Everyone's been looking for you."

The woman shakily rose to her full height, bursting into relieved tears when she turned around and saw the handsome man's concerned expression.

He grabbed her hands, looking over her appearance more attentively, "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Why didn't you come home?"

She could only shake her head, thinking, 'All I ever do is cry and run away. I don't think a day has passed in over a year that I haven't burst into tears over something,' she wiped at her eyes, allowing him to hold her hand as he guided her out of the store and to his car, where Tobi was waiting in the passenger seat.

The dark-haired Uchiha cousin tried to talk to her, but she just glanced around outside the vehicle's windows to check for anything suspicious while Itachi went back inside to buy whatever he'd initially come for.

All the while, she thought, 'Why am I even running anymore? I hate myself as it is. I should've just let him kill me.'

"Hey, we found her. I'll bring her home soon," Itachi's voice was music to Sasuke's ears.

He sighed, irritated because Sakura was obviously uninjured, or his brother would've said something about it first, "What's her problem?"

There was a pause before a response finally came, "I don't know. She's crying too hard to talk, but she doesn't have a mark on her. If you ask me, it looks like something spooked her, and she ran."

Earlier, when the Uchiha man called her, he could tell something was up by the tone of her voice, not to mention that she hung up on him. Since she was seen by so many people at the party on Saturday, everyone's initial thought was that someone nabbed her off the street for one of many possible reasons, each worse than the next.

'What's her fucking deal? The least she could do was send a text. God, she's annoying.'

The man was angry before all this, too, because she gave him the cold shoulder this morning, only to get all chummy with that white-haired teacher she'd been all over at the party. Sasuke swallowed his pride a dozen times over in order to get this close to Sakura, and now, after all that effort, it seemed she still wasn't focused solely on him.

'Who does she think she is? She told me to stay away from other women, yet she's all over that guy, and he's old as fuck, too.'

Sasuke's an extraordinarily possessive and jealous man and has been for as long as he can remember. As a child, he refused to share toys or school supplies. Though Sakura's a human and not an item, the same mindset applies to this situation.

He was set on going off on the woman when she got home, but his complaints evaporated upon seeing how drained she was upon arriving. She quietly apologized before going upstairs, leaving me to look at Tobi and Itachi for answers. They both shrugged, the former saying, "I think she was being followed. She kept looking around like she expected to see someone tailing us."

Itachi nodded, "I did check before coming here. Nothing seemed suspicious, but Sakura wouldn't act like this without a solid reason, right?"

Sighing, Sasuke ran a hand through his hair and glanced at the hallway she'd disappeared to, "Fuck, I don't know. One second she's fine, and the next she's…this," he paused before shaking his head and walking that way with a hand raised in a lazy wave, "Send someone out to watch the place tonight."

Upon arriving upstairs, he realized the woman was sitting on the edge of his bed with a pillow in her arms as she stared ahead with glazed-over eyes. He shut the door behind him and leaned against the desk, "So?"

"I thought I was being followed, and I didn't want to lead them here, so I just kept walking," her voice was tired and monotone.

Sasuke scoffed, "Okay, and why didn't you tell anyone? Yahiko was about to send search parties to look for your body, you idiot."

She shrugged, saying nothing.

'...Something's off about her tonight. Did something actually happen that she's not telling me?' Usually, Sakura would bite back at him for calling her an idiot, no matter the severity of the situation.

For the next two days, Sakura was simultaneously on edge because that I'm-being-watched feeling refused to falter and felt numb to anything and everything. Receiving that text really messed her up. It was on Thursday night that Sasuke apparently had had enough. Just as she was about to go to bed, he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

'What's he doing? Is he mad I haven't slept in his room or talked to him? I have other things to worry about right now.'

"I'm at my fuckin' limit, Sakura. What the hell is wrong with you?"

The woman sat on the edge of the bed and glared at him with a frown but said nothing because she didn't know what to say. During school on Tuesday, she'd gone over what she'd like to yell at him when they inevitably talk about the fact that he works for Akatsuki, and, subsequently, so does she, but that was before the whole stalker issue.

'I already told him I think I'm being followed. There's nothing else that he needs to know.'

Dark eyes were alight with emotion, most of which were on the angry side, "I can't fix anything if you don't tell me the damn problem, so spit it out. Is it because you still think someone's following you around? I already told you that's not true. We've had guys keeping an eye on things."

Sakura bluntly said, "I don't care if I'm being followed anymore."

Over the past few days, her psyche had fallen further into a depressive slump. All she wanted to do was cry, which pissed her off even more because that's all she's been doing all this time.

"...Okay, then what…?" Sasuke was visibly confused by her uncharacteristic demeanor. It was surprising it took this long for him to say something.

'His patience has definitely improved since we first met. Good for him.'

The woman stood, uncrossing her arms and meeting his gaze, "Listen, I just…I don't care."

Understanding met the Uchiha's eyes before they narrowed, his voice lowering, "Since when do you not care? All you've done since I've met you is care too much about every little fucking thing."

She shook her head, mumbling, "And look where that's gotten me."

A long silence passed between the pair before Sasuke's voice took on an undeniable threatening tone, his glare smoldering, "Whatever funk you're in is annoying as hell. What's it gonna take for you to knock it off?"

Sakura rolled her eyes, turning to prepare to get into bed again, "Good night, Sasuke." Apparently, the man didn't like that because he grabbed her arm and forced her to face him again. A flare of fear came over the woman, but she swallowed it quickly, "Let go."

His brow furrowed, and he hissed, "God damn it," before roughly grabbing her jaw and kissing her. On instinct, the woman's hands jumped to his shirt, holding it loosely as his free hand snaked around to the small of her back, pulling her closer and preventing escape. Only when the man forced his tongue past her teeth did Sakura realize what he was doing.

'He's pushing me until I get pissed off or scared enough to fight him.'

She still didn't care, so she kissed him back calmly, very much not matching his irritated energy. The next thing Sakura knew, he reached behind them to absently search for the lightswitch before finding it, turning the lights off, and returning his hand to her jaw, only for it to slide back into her hair, where he tugged enough for it to sting, but not enough to truly hurt.

Her head fell back with a soft gasp, and Sasuke hungrily kissed her neck, whispering into her skin, "I won't stop."

Amidst the heated makeout session, the man rid himself of his shirt. Then, he tugged hers off, too. The pair fell onto the bed, him forcing himself between her legs so he could press against her. A spark of panic met Sakura's chest, and she tore her lips from his to stop further reactions.

Sasuke dipped to kiss her collarbone, hands dancing down to maneuver her pajama pants down her legs and off, tossing them away carelessly before coming down again. Large hands with calloused, long fingers greedily felt every inch of bare skin. The sensation was as pleasurable as it was scary.

'Wait…this is scary. This is exactly what he wanted, that prick.' That said, Sakura wasn't anywhere as nervous as she thought she'd be.

Her focus snapped when the man's voice met her ears again, hot breath dusting against the moist skin of her shoulder, "I'll fuckin' do it, Sakura. I'm serious."

For some reason, even though Sasuke had succeeded in getting her out of her numb funk by pushing her past her sober limits, the pink-haired woman didn't want him to stop.

The eager touches of his skin to hers and the rushed press of his lips made a heat pool between her legs that'd become a sensation she affiliated with terror because her ex-boyfriend had turned something as natural and cathartic as sex into an act solely used to show dominance. Sakura could mask her fear until then because she began to tremble, recalling the last few times she'd gone through with the act, whether by her own will or not.

The Uchiha man made a low sound deep in his chest, obviously having noticed, but he didn't stop, just like he said he wouldn't. No, he slid his tongue into her mouth, kissing her passionately while running a hand down the front of her body until it met the hem of her underwear.

Sakura's eyes squeezed closed more tightly when his fingers slid beneath the cloth to touch her intimately. He quickly found the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs, toying with and teasing her. She felt like a puppet on strings, the way he expertly made sharp bursts of lightning-hot pleasure shoot through her lower regions.

'Oh, fuck. What am I even doing? Why am I letting him touch me like this? It feels way too good. …I don't want him to stop.'

The point came that she could no longer keep her breathing steady, and an exasperated moan was muffled between their tongues as she finally gave in to the man's relentless technique. This entire time, she'd been keeping the responses to a minimum and showing no excitement, but now she's only reacting to the feelings and urges. Her back arched, and her head fell back.

Half-lidded green eyes met dark ones when Sasuke let the kiss end. He continued searching her face and quietly said, "I'll make it good. Don't stop me."

'He said it like a command, but really, he's asking if it's okay to keep going now that I'm back in my right mind.' Sakura nodded with a blush steadily rising to her cheeks.

The man's gaze was intense and unrelenting, as though he refused to miss a second. The fingers beneath her underwear disappeared because he reached beneath her to unhook her bra, tossing it aside once removed. Then, he sat back on his knees and slid her panties down her legs until Sakura lay naked with her legs bent over his hips.

She was able to hold his gaze for a moment but quickly buckled and covered her face with both hands. It was expected that Sasuke would either tease her or tear her hands away, but he did neither. Instead, he came down to kiss between her breasts, fondling her chest appreciatively before moving lower. His lips dusted against her stomach and lower abdomen before a wet and wild heat erupted between Sakura's legs.

Her hands immediately shot down to grip handfuls of the sheet, her back arching as she hissed, "A-Ah, not so-!" 'He wasn't lying. This is incredible. Has it ever felt this good? I don't think so. Jesus, fuck, he'll kill me.'

Sasuke wasn't wasting time teasing or edging the woman. He was determined to throw her recklessly over the edge as quickly as possible like it was his life's mission or something. Soon, Sakura was millimeters away from climax and began to panic because it'd been a long time since it happened, which scared her.

Tears in her eyes, she whispered, "S-Sasuke! Sasuke, stop, or I'll-!" It was too late. All the air left the woman's lungs, her insides shaking like an earthquake. Just as quickly as she'd gone silent did she gasp, an embarrassing and breathy moan escaping her mouth as her back further arched off the bed.

When it passed, she panted for breath, tears running down the sides of her face to drip into her hair and eyes wide with shock. 'It was good. It was better than good, and we didn't even have sex.'

More than Sakura was impressed with Sasuke's skills, she was surprised she made it through the experience without having a panic attack. Maybe she felt grateful to him for helping her overcome one of her fears, or perhaps she was simply caught up in the mood again, something becoming more typical for the pair, but when Sasuke climbed over her, pressing chaste kisses up her body until they met her neck, she reached down and fumbled to unbuckle his belt.

He paused, but only momentarily, before returning to what he was doing.

Sakura's skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat as she unzipped and unbuttoned his pants to slide a hand beneath the cloth and feel the hardened length begging to be released completely. 'It feels big….'

Slowly, the woman rolled over on top of him, switching their positions so she could sit between his legs, lower his pants enough to pull his sex free, and come forward to slide it into her mouth. The man watched her with an arm behind his head, the other hand keeping long strands of pink hair out of her face, and a hyper-focused expression. Sakura's face remained warm, only getting hotter, as she met his eye only to avert her gaze bashfully while continuing the sexual favor.

"Look at me." Sasuke's firm voice stunned the woman enough to follow the order, and when their eyes met, he said, "Don't look away," in the same tone.

'What the hell has gotten into her?!'

Sasuke's teeth gritted as he watched Sakura's bashful face turn one darker shade of red after another. Upon kissing her, he expected to be shoved away before they reached this point. Not only did she let him touch and taste her, but now she's returning the favor, and quite skillfully if he dared say so himself.

'She looks shy, but her mouth doesn't feel that way. Is it because I haven't had this done in a few weeks, or is she actually this good?' The man's muscles flexed as he got closer and closer to losing his composure, the fingers in her soft hair tightening as he guided the speed to increase, 'Damn it, this is dangerous.'

To communicate that he was close, Sasuke released her entirely. His dark eyes narrowed as hers widened with realization. Tears welled in them, and he realized she didn't know what to do.

"You don't have to swallow it," he said quietly, his voice strained as he clung to his self-control for as long as possible.

Sakura nodded, her brow furrowing. At the very last moment, she slid him out of her mouth and lowered her gaze to his cock as she adjusted her position so the white, cloudy substance splattered over her chest instead.

For a very long pause, the pair stared at one another with surprised expressions. Neither expected this to happen; that was a fact. Since his blood had begun to flow back into his brain rather than his manhood, Sasuke began to feel a little guilty. The pink-haired woman sat up, looking down at her chest in the dark room.

Still, he watched appreciatively, 'That's a sight for sore eyes.' A gorgeous woman sitting naked between his legs after giving him a blowjob was satisfying, 'She doesn't look all pure and innocent anymore.'

Wavy pink hair flowed around her shoulders and down her back. The blush on her face was visible even though there was very little light, as was the glisten of the substance he'd given to her chest. The woman was slender and covered in scars. Sasuke thought she looked gorgeous. Her curves were humble but elegant and pretty. She was the picture of femininity in his eyes.

"I-I, um…."

Upon hearing her shaky voice, he snapped out of his daze, sitting up and hesitantly lifting a hand. When Sakura didn't shy away, he gently brushed her hair behind her ear, "If you're pissed, I completely get it. Just hit me and tell me to leave if you want."

The woman's brow furrowed, but she shook her head, averting her gaze to his chest, "I would've told you no if I didn't want it," she closed her eyes, covering them with one hand, "I'm just…. I've only ever done this with one other person, so I probably didn't do that well. I'm really embarrassed."

Sasuke's eyes widened in surprise, his mouth opening slightly as he took in her words, 'What? One other person? That can't be true! Someone who looks like her had to have had men lining up!'

"You're probably used to more experienced and confident women. I'm sorry-" "Shut up," he cut her off. She slowly dropped her hand, meeting his eye nervously. He shook his head, glaring, "Don't be an idiot. If I didn't like it, I would've said something, so don't say some shit like that again, got it?"

Sakura quickly nodded, obviously taken aback by his irritation. He shook his head, nodding toward the abandoned clothes on the floor, "Go wipe that off so we can go to sleep." Again, she nodded, this time climbing off the bed to do as requested. Sasuke watched her slim figure with warmth in his chest, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Sighing, he fell back against the pillows with glazed-over eyes directed at the ceiling, 'That was fucking magnificent.'

#haruno sakura #uchiha sasuke #sasuke #sakura #sasusaku #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #sasuke uchiha #sakura uchiha #narutofanfiction #naruto shippuden fanfiction #naruto #naruto shippuden #narutofanfic #naruto fanfiction

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howlingday · 6 months

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My idea for a potential DEATH BATTLE! #5

2023, October 18, 19, 20, 27

Link to the fourth post: https://www.tumblr.com/donotmindme1/731349657571278848/my-idea-for-a-potential-death-battle-4-2023?source=share

Master list: https://www.tumblr.com/donotmindme1/731003687600881664/mind-what-you-do?source=share

Korra vs Delsin Rowe (Avatar vs inFamous)

They're the second legends in line!

Fighter 1: Korra, the continuing spirit of the Avatar cycle.

Fighter 2: Delsin Rowe, the accomplishing Akomish Second Son.

Wiz: Many of us aspire to live up and uphold the legacies of our predecessors.

*insert clips of Miles Morales & Peter Parker, Deku & All Might, Ruby Rose & Summer Rose, Batman & his Robins*

Boomstick: However, just because they're tough acts to follow up shouldn't discourage you from making your own path. He's Wiz and I'm Boomstick.

Wiz: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find out who would win... a Death Battle.

PREFACE: I am wasting my time writing this. I should be working on an important project. I wanted to write an idea that suits the chilly weather of autumn to serve as a nice gateway into other MUs. I played inFamous Second Son during the last three months of 2021 and I fell in love with the gameplay. Being able to scale the buildings of Seattle with Conduit powers, doing drug busts, and saving innocent people really gave me a sense of power. I am sure I am not the only one who was disappointed when Season 8 announced Korra vs Storm due to how unbalanced the powers are between the two (however, I enjoyed the episode, mainly Storm doing the Moses and Wheather the Elements). So, now that Cole made his debut on the show, we can finally let Delsin have his time in the spotlight. Besides, I think that Korra vs Delsin is a more fitting MU, and you'll see why later on. Also, I will mainly be using True Hero Delsin (Good Karma) as it is the canon ending. I'll consider Infamous Delsin (Bad Karma) separately as it does affect the fight.

WHY:

Connections:

1. Both carry on the legacy of a famous protagonist who was able to control multiple forms of matter (Aang and Cole McGrath).

2. Both are capable of manipulating at least 4 different forms of matter (Korra has Earth, Fire, Air, and Water; Delsin has Smoke, Neon, Video, and Concrete) due to a physiological trait (Korra has the spirit of the Avatar, allowing her chi to pass through all of her body better than the rest and manipulate the elements; Delsin has a Conduit gene that lets him obtain the abilities of other Conduits upon extensive contact and draining Core Relays).

3. Both started their journeys being childish and/or immature but through their actions and strife, rose above and became better people and consequently, better idols and saviors.

Personal reasons: I wanted this to be Korra's MU during Season 8, but alas, it was not to be. More than anything, I want them to react to each other's powers. Delsin would ask Korra if her conduit gene is like his but better since she doesn't need to absorb matter to change her powers and Korea asks about how the heck is he manipulating light and becoming invisible. After all, conduit powers and bending are different in their manifestation, how they manipulate the environment, and more importantly, how they interact with each other.

THE FIGHT:

Art and animation: The animation will most likely be 2D like all Avatar fights, but the dream is to have it be a 3D battle with fluid movement and lots of different camera angles. The animation from Korra vs Storm is good for Korra, so reusing it would benefit her, but Delsin tends to fight from afar using his projectiles. While he does have dashes, his chain, Comet Drop, and some support abilities, Delsin is mainly a ranged fighter, and the 3D team works best with characters that have a wide assortment of abilities, especially ones used in midair or while running. However, to be able to get the most out of both worlds, the fight is best in 2D, and it's not like Cole was limited to ranged combat in his fight. It could really go either way and still be great regardless, and that's honestly the best part. I really want this fight to be a finale so it could be a long fight with lots of pretty stuff to gawk at, especially since Spiritbending, Neon, and Video allow for flashy maneuvers.

Possible setup:

In a metropolitan area, the Second Son is doing stencil art dedicated to his dear brother. "Man, I miss you, Reggie."

"Hey! You can't paint the walls of this city!" Delsin sighs. He misses his brother, but not his overly bureaucratic attitude. As he turns around and puts down the spray paint, he sees Korra who is looking a little stern. "Hey, there. Isn't art a form of self-expression? I'm building a masterpiece here, and it'll be my gift to the world."

"That's fair, but you're painting on public property. Unless you have a permit to do so, step away from graffiti." Korra was a little miffed. The graffiti looked cool, and it looked to be a dedication to a departed soul, but duty calls. Besides, it's just graffiti, not a murder or kidnapping. If he refuses, however, she can have her way.

"Who are you, the fun police? I'm not hurting anyone." It's like dear Reggie was still with him: being a pain and not letting him have his fun.

Korra smirked. "Fun? Oh, I'll show you fun." She got into a fighting stance. Hey, if you're having fun on the job, good for you, right? It's been a boring day of patrolling, so she's itching for entertainment.

"Oh."

FIGHT! :

1. As it turns out, she was nothing like Reggie. Korra firebends at Deals and catches him off guard. However, Delsin absorbs the smoke, unharmed. This causes Korra to look puzzled. "Wait, how did he- He barely moved." She then attempts to earthbend, summoning rising pillars, but Delsin smoke dashes away. "How did you do that?" Korra had never seen someone turn into smoke before. Maybe she should ask him how to do that.

2. "I'm a conduit. I mean, aren't you one?" Delsin starts to use Smoke Shot as he moves around, but they're easily dodged and dispersed with more earthbending. "I'm the Avatar, master of all the elements." "Is that right?" Delsin uses a smoke dash to sneak up on Korra from behind and tosses a Sulfur Bomb.

3. The Sulfur Bomb explodes, but Korra just rolls up to Delsin and engages him directly. Delsin tries to punch her and use his smoke-imbued chain, but all his attacks are evaded or blocked. Korra roughs up Delsin, punching him in the face, kneeing him in the stomach, etc. Delsin drops another Sulfur Bomb that leaves Korra coughing, and attempts to subdue her.

4. Korra bends away the ash and sulfur and launches Delsin into a building using waterbending. Delsin is able to recover and takes the high ground through a smoke vent. On the roof, he shoots a Cinder Missile. Korra is able to notice and puts out the Missile before it hits. "Wait, she didn't drain water." Come to think of it, she was able to use fire and then the cement beneath. Is her Conduit gene better than his? Korra starts to airbend projectiles and Delsins fires Smoke Shots (like Might Guy's Morning Peacock vs All Might's air punches). Korra then firebends her way to Delsin and delivers a powerful kick, sending him flying.

5. Delsin crashes onto another building, but drains the neon from the nearby signs. Noticing some injured civilians, Delsin starts to heal them, earning him Good Karma. As Korra rushes in, Delsin rushes her first due to his Neon Dash. "Wait, are you a Spiritbender!?" She's good up close, but it doesn't matter if she can't hit him. He strikes her with his chain, but Korra grabs it and uses a powerful earthbending punch on him. Delsin Neon Dashes away. "Oh, no you don't!" She knows that he has powerful ranged attacks, so she needs to be close to him. She gets on an air scooter and chases after him as she shoots air at him, chasing him to near a spirit portal.

6. Delsin is able to outrun Korra and fires a stasis bubble. Korra uses a firebending soccer kick on the bubble, punting it away. Delsin runs before he's hit with his own bubble (he doesn't seem to be affected by it in-game, however). He then rushes up to Korra who attempts to strike him, but he instead rushes past her and fires a phosphor beam, successfully hitting her and knocking her off balance, and successfully uses a stasis bubble. He attempts to obtain more powers, but he feels nothing. "What..? Then how..? You must not be a Prime Conduit." Korra gets back up in fiery fashion and Delsin employs hit-and-run tactics, firing phosphor and neon beam, but Korra is able to block with her bending. She then does Zuko's "breakdance" and catches Delsin off-guard.

7. Delsin quickly heals by absorbing video from a nearby TV. He then uses Video Torrent. Korra simply dodges and attempts to get in close, but Delsin strikes using his longsword, damaging Korra a fair amount. He then uses Bloodthirsty Blades. Korra dashes away, but is unable to avoid the blades, so she destroys one with a fireball, another by raising a stone wall, and the last one by creating an ice structure. Korra is then attacked by a... Is that a spirit!? Whatever it is, it has wings, metal plating, and is currently shooting a laser. Korra dodges and bends water and freezes the spirit, but it... Disappears into wisps of light... These are not like the spirits she knows, but she is then pushed and pinned to the ground by smaller swords. Delsin appears out of thin air. "How did you do that!?" "A friend lent me his powers, you could say." Ok, that is NOT how bending works. Using a combination of earth, wind, and fire, Korra frees herself by creating a crater underneath her, enters the Avatar State, and then bends the concrete around Delsin, encasing him in a shell, and bends him to her. He's a fire bender and a spirit bender, but he is not the Avatar.

8. Delsin absorbs the concrete before being fully encapsulated and does his boulder dash. He starts to engage Korra, but she is nimble enough to dodge. Korra then gets an idea and starts to make her way to the spirit portal. Delsin starts to climb on top of a building and does a Comet Drop, doing his pose on the Second Son cover art, and he starts to fire concrete shrapnel and a concrete barrage, but Korra instead redirects them. However, Korra gets a leg up and is able to use bending to get Delsin into the Spirit World and she enters.

9. In the Spirit World, Delsin is taken aback due to the colors and... weird animal things... He doesn't get to gawk for long as Korra makes her bombastic entrance. However, she firebends at Delsin who promptly absorbs the smoke, but he's starting to struggle and to get hurt so he smoke dashes away

10. Korra wins by overwhelming and overpowering Delsin. Since they are in the Spirit World, Korra becomes stronger, and in the Avatar State, she is in no need to wait for Delsin to exhaust himself. Even as he tries to distance himself and use his sulfur bombs and sulfur headshots, the Avatar is easily able to bend them away. She then is able to unleash a powerful bending attack that overwhelms Delsin and he blacks out, thinking of Reggie. After Korra finishes the job, she exits the Avatar State. "That was fun, but I'm sorry. I hope you find you and your departed family can reunite here". She then bows to her opponent. She's fiery and hotheaded, but she's still empathetic.

11. Delsin wins by being able to stall Korra and connect a successful attack. The fire is hurting him, but if he keeps his distance, all it serves is to fuel and heal him. He gets in a good sulfur headshot, briefly stunning Korra and leaving her coughing again. He then tosses another sulfur bomb, leaving Korra coughing more. He then does his Orbital Drop, but as he reaches the apex, Korra bends away the smoke and then launches herself, attempting one last attack. They meet halfway, and after a noticeable explosion, both are left on the ground, Delsin tired, and Korra dead. Korra, in her last moments, apologizes to her friends and family for being able to say goodbye. Delsin recollects himself, and upon returning to the Human World, finishes his graffiti of Reggie. However, we see him painting another mural, and he says "Say hi to my brother for me". He then turns to leave, and we see a mural of Korra, reading "Dedicated to the Avatar."

RESULT:

Strengths and weaknesses:

Korra:

+ Physically stronger and more durable.

+ More experienced.

+ Has superior training.

+ Easier access to her elemental manipulation.

= Firebending and Earthbending fuel Delsin, but Smoke and Concreted are easily negated.

- Energybending cannot negate the Conduit Gene.

- Energybending cannot manipulate Video or Neon.

- Is vulnerable to suffocation. When she was poisoned as she was. suffocating, the Avatar State only held off the poison and not the suffocation.

- Can be immobilized via the stasis.

Delsin Rowe:

+ Can heal from firebending and earthbending.

+ Has a healing factor.

+ Is likely faster with Neon.

+ Neon allows for fast attacks, and the stasis bubbles are immobilizing.

+ Infamous Delsin has easy access to instant kill options.

= Firebending and Earthbending fuel him, but Smoke and Concrete attacks are negated.

- Untrained in physical combat.

- Physically far weaker and faster. Is also slower without Neon or Video.

- Is not immune to fire when using smoke or to earth when using concrete.

- Cannot access all his elements at will.

- Draining a power source leaves him vulnerable.

- There's no evidence to say that he can resist being immobilized by being surrounded/encased in concrete like he did to Augustine.

- Cannot obtain bending powers as they are spiritual and not genetic. Even then, he'd need Core Relays and blast shards to be able to get any use of his newfound abilities and to be able to absorb any other element.

Ending puns:

"The Avatar's victory was elemental."

"Delsin got a concrete victory."

MUSIC:

Name: "Four Infamous Elements"

The title makes reference to both combatants' abilities to manipulate four elements or states of matter as well as the inFamous game series' name. Brandon Yates used Second Legends for his commissioned track, so I cannot use it.

Art: The art would depict Delsin's chain forming a circle imbued with Raava. One half would have Korra's elements spiraling outwards. The other half would have Delsin's elements spiraling inward, forming a Yin Yang. The center of the circle would have a gene symbol like that of the Second Son power skill tree on the side of Korra's elements and the symbol of Raava on the side of Delsin's elements.

Sound: the start of the music is that of the Second Son main theme and it plays during the initial confrontation. The music is kicked up a notch when Korra first attacks, where the sound shifts to be more Avatar-centered, but with some hip-hop elements, and even has parts and bits that sound like Second Legends as a callback, much like Final Formersr referenced Deceptive Tyrants. As the battle gets closer to its climax, the sound is that of the main theme of Avatar, but with a mix of Asian instruments and rock instrumentation.

Holy cow, I love doing this one! Especially imagining the track and its art due to the possibilities of symbolism.

THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!

---------------------------------------------------

Ooh, another interesting match-up! Although, to be honest, I already have my doubts as to how this plays out. Great fight idea, though!

URBAN SPRAWL

Honestly, the Avatar fights have been kinda meh in Death Battle, usually because they've all been so one-sided (except for the first, Toph v Gaara).

I really like the premise of the fight and how it plays out. Unfortunately, I gotta give it to Korra here for one reason; resource. Korra can bend anything from anywhere with little limit on where. Delsin, however, has very specific sources from which he can draw his power, such as his concrete abilities can only be drawn from conduit enforcers gifted with the same powers.

Still, though, it would be a pretty neat fight.

#submission #death battle #ideas #legend of korra #avatar korra #delsin rowe #infamous delsin #infamous second son #korra #tlok korra #my submissions #infamous #the legend of korra #my thoughts

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hazard-and-friends · 8 months

Text

Week 1

Socialization

Watching people and dogs politely when they pass (so so atm, a little wary of people and then warms up VERY fast, and over excited of dogs)

Exposure to different surfaces/regular outdoor objects (grass, mud, bark, weird trees, parking lots, storm drains, etc)

Car/truck watching (wary here as well)

Vet visit! Car ride, everything about being at the vet (strangers touching her, being manipulated, doing her new skills in a new location, smells, sounds, things in her mouth ears and ass, being taken back for shots & nasal spray...) etc etc etc

Household noises (garbage disposal, children/adults outdoors, dish washer, oven, microwave, electric kettle, white noise machine, every possible noise from computers, shower fan, etc). Have NOT done the vacuum yet.

Outside of the vet have met a couple people, a nice young man who lives across the hallway, and a woman + two of her kids (aged about 1 and 4) and STROLLER. Big victory all around for K'seil who thought this was all delightful once she thought about it.

Went to the park today and was exposed to LOTS of screamy children, a few strange dogs, adults chatting, playground equipment (visual only), etc etc etc.

In-home skills

Play with Hazard in the morning/afternoon can be largely uninterrupted, he's doing much better at handicapping himself. Evenings are still a struggle. She's not afraid of him at all anymore.

She does need to be supervised when she goes to interact with Penny. She's trying VERY hard to get her to play (play-bows and everything) and Penny is Not Interested.

Potty training is...coming along. We've yet to have a day without accidents. They're no longer entirely my fault (I mean, they are, but not because I'm delaying taking her out). The last couple days they've been more because she was busy and got distracted and peed. She's perfectly happy to pee/poop outside, anywhere as long as it's grass (sure), on leash, etc.

I now have a bucket inside her pen fastened so it's HARDER to tip over, and a "splash proof" bowl outside her pen. This has dramatically reduced the amount of digging behavior in water. I live in hope we'll be able to go back to the regular bowls by the time she's a teen.

She's good about going in/being put in her crate or pen--thus far I haven't put them on cue or gotten a voluntary entry, I'm mostly putting food in and releasing her to go in. Once in, she might fuss a bit (especially in the crate at night) but then passes out. Overnight she only fusses if she has to pee.

Reinforcement skills

Did not come with the ability to find food on the ground (lmao bless, I love babies), now knows how to do that and is getting better at finding treat scatters

Treat scatter will be on "find it" but that's a WIP

Knows both the clicker and "yes", and today was able to distinguish between two clickers (box vs button) and remember which one was 'hers'. Both refer to treat delivery from hand (or if you're FRAGILE and TENDER, on the ground).

Can work a snuffle mat and snoop, will introduce other treat dispensing puzzles next week

Worked out like, half of the kong with canned dog food. I'll try again with kibbles mixed in.

Tug is eh, she'll tug a bit but won't bring it back at all

Fetch is nonexistent 🤣

Can usually follow a tossed treat

Cues

Sit: Hand signal and verbal sometimes. Came preinstalled with sit as a mand behavior

Touch: Sometimes.

K'seil as a focus: MUCH better than it should be for the amount of work we've done tbh!

recall is currently pup-pup-pup-puppy!!! which she's very good at

#i see littermate owners teaching like heel and wait with treats on paws and i'm like #whatever she loves me we'll go from there #she loves me she trusts me she'll come to me outside if she's scared #everything else can come later #bucket full of starlight #training log

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galacticnova3 · 1 year

Note

any non-kirby headcanons?

I have some miscellaneous Pokémon headcanons?

•Most Pokémon that drain energy/life force to feed, such as the Litwick line and Dhelmise, can be trained to also at least partially sustain themselves on alternative food sources, though it isn’t always as simple as it appears in the games. Particularly, when it comes to those that don’t have an obvious Eating Hole™️, just nudging food at their face isn’t really going to do much. To go with the above examples, members of the Litwick line can burn things such as berries rather than just souls, and Dhelmise can adjust to photosynthesizing so long as their water is fortified with extra vitamins, minerals, and protein. Of course because Pokémon are their own individuals some may not cooperate, but for those there are trainers and Pokémon who specifically set out to meet the needs of such Pokémon, building up their stamina(and defenses/HP) to safely withstand the process. Usually accompanied by Pokémon that have healing moves, of course, otherwise that’d be a recipe for disaster.

•While actually being able to speak is incredibly rare, a great deal of Pokémon understand the language of the people around them pretty well. Most Rotom-inhabited devices have a set of speakers specifically for them to “talk” through, for example, and some are even trained to act as translators should it be needed. Most Psychic types can fulfill a similar role, though via telepathy rather than speech. One major exception being Metagross, because it’s not uncommon for them to figure out how to use TTS devices or just straight up text, which can be a blessing or a curse.

•Related to the last bit of the previous point, Metagross are probably one of the most difficult Pokémon to train simply because, on top of being incredibly strong and having psychic abilities, they are smart. Probably smarter than whoever their trainer is in most regards. Like, sure, a Chatot might figure out how to be annoying with smart devices, like the irl parrot that tried to order pulled pork on an Amazon Alexa. But a Metagross will know what it wants and probably be able to figure out how to get it, or can probably gain access to information stored in digital formats. Unless you have somehow prevented it from obtaining any kind of TTS device, taught it to respect an honor system or bro code, or set up a fingerprint scan for everything, there is very little stopping an unattended one from using your credit card to buy expensive cuts of meat(they are carnivores after all), taking over a social media account, or in extreme cases committing cybercrimes. If you train a Metagross with a naughty nature, you need a lot of patience. If you train a Metagross with a naughty nature and it has teamed up with your local Rotom device to cause problems on purpose, good luck and Arceus help you.

•Being isolated for much of their life has left Giratina with a lot of time to think and learn, so nowadays they aren’t quite as, well, destructive. Out of the Creation trio Giratina is probably the most chill now; living alone with your regrets and being demonized by those who have never even met you develops more bitter resentment than arrogant pride. Dialga and Palkia, having been worshipped for centuries by many people, have an image to upkeep and a large ego. Like bickering siblings they’ll spring into conflict with each other should a perceived slight occur, and occasionally this can spill over into causing major problems for everyone else. Usually Arceus has to resolve these situations because Giratina is like the older sibling who doesn’t want to get involved out of both spite and just good ol’ not-my-problemism, with exceptions being if the Distortion World gets impacted by it somehow or someone actually urges them to do something. Someone either being Arceus or a human that has passed the vibe check.

•Grass types can send email

#asks #rambling #pokemon #pokémon headcanons #i got more but need to sleep because last night I got like max 4 hours #anyways reminder that realistically every Metagross has the capability to be a major pain in the ass #imagine a trainer like I FUCKING HATE MY RIVAL’S METAGROSS IT KEEPS LEVITATING MY PHONE AND SAYING JUMP WHITE BOY JUMP

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never-enough-whump · 8 months

Text

On Rumor of Treason

Whumptember Day 6: Behind Bars

Summary: News from the front reaches the village guard first. Or, the consequence of Rumple's actions.

Read on AO3

Footsteps crunch on the snow outside. Milah ceases her soft humming and looks up from her sewing. But no knocking or friendly voices follow the steps. Instead, a trio of guards burst through her door.

“Come with us,” the first guard orders. “Now.”

Milah presses back against the back of her chair. “Why?” she asks.

The guard yanks her roughly to her feet, her sewing dropping to the floor. He backhands her across the face, and she yelps and stumbles. “Because I say so,” he snaps and before she can reach for the tender spot, he’s twisting her arm painfully behind her back. The second guard smirks, as if amused by his companion’s cruelty, but the third scowls and spits into the hearth.

“Hurry it up,” he grumbles. “She’s not worth the time.” The second guard springs into action at that, grabbing her other arm and wrenching it behind her as well. Pinned on both sides by both guards, her struggling is useless and she stills. Satisfied by this compliance, the third guard dumps her water pail over the fire, plunging the house into darkness.

The guards march her outside without her cloak. Two torches wait for them, stuck into the snowbank by the door. The third guard picks up both and leads the way through the frosty night to the guards’ fort.

Milah isn’t dressed for this weather. The cold worms its way under her dress, making her shiver.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks again, with new desperation. She wants to go home. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“When you give me answers.”

There’s a shifting behind her and one of her arms is passed from one hand to another. She’s spun forcefully around to face the first guard.

“I should have known better than to expect respect from the likes of you,” he says, and slaps her again. The crack of his hand against her cheek is loud in the quiet night and so is her cry of pain. Milah looks to the ground, not wanting to know if anyone in the nearby houses has come to see the commotion. Her face burns with shame as well as pain. “You will be quiet,” the guard warns, “or we will beat you when we get there.”

Normally, Milah might have pushed the issue. She might have found knowing the reason for this mistreatment (and what the guard meant by “the likes of you”) worth the risk of a beating. But now she shudders to think what a beating would do to the baby inside her, the fragile life that can only withstand so much damage to her body, and she obeys.

In the dungeon of the fort, she is shoved into a cell. Not hard enough to fall, but nearly, and she stumbles to the back of the cell before catching herself with a hand on the wall. She turns to face the guards, looking back at them through the bars of her cage.

“Please,” she whispers, exhausted and drained of nearly all her dignity. “Let me go.”

The guards only laugh at her obvious terror.

“A coward, just like that bastard she took up with,” the third guard accuses, and spits again. The second guard clicks the lock shut. With the sound echoing the finality that she is trapped, the guards turn as one and leave her there.

Milah leans back against the wall, all but collapsing into it. The baby kicks and she rubs at the spot, trying to soothe them both. It’ll be all right, she thinks to the baby. We’ll be out of here soon. But she isn’t so sure. She doesn’t even know why this is happening. How can she predict how well and how soon it’ll end?

She eases herself to the floor of the cell, shifting futilely for a comfortable position that doesn’t exist before giving up and settling for the best she can do. She needs to focus on tonight, not worry about the distant future. She’s still shaking from fear and, more concerningly, cold. She tries to curl tighter around herself, to preserve the warmth she desperately needs for both her and her baby, but the very bump she’s trying to protect makes it difficult to tuck her knees in tightly enough. Tears rush to her eyes and though she doesn’t want to cry, she’s just as powerless to stop her sobs as she is to do anything else.

Shouting and rattling of the door wake her the next morning. She’s surprised, not having expected herself to fall asleep. She blinks, the dungeon only coming into bleary focus with one of her eyes swollen.

Two guards stand outside the cell, and Milah flinches when she recognizes the one who enters as the cruel guard from the night before. To her relief, he doesn’t hit her again, but he does hurt her, fingers probing for the spot on her arm that makes her wince the most and digging in before he pulls her from the ground. Stiff and sore from cold and uncomfortable sleep, she drags behind him for several paces before getting her balance.

The guards take her to a chamber where the duke and the captain of the guard are waiting. She’s shoved roughly to her knees in front of them and the guards take their own places, standing silently behind their seated superiors.

“You are Milah, yes?” the captain asks. “Wife of the spinner Rumplestiltskin?”

“Yes,” she nods, “that is correct.” Turning imploringly to the duke, she says, “my husband has answered your conscription. We’ve paid our tithes at harvest-tide and committed no crimes. Your Grace, if I may ask, what is this about?” It is a risk to speak so plainly to the duke, but she hopes that she might get out of this by reminding him of her innocence. Anger flashes in the duke’s eyes and Milah quickly ducks her head, seeing that the risk has not paid off.

“You most certainly may not!” the duke thunders. “Remember your place, peasant. It is only I who gets to decide if and how you have displeased me.”

She tenses, expecting pain in retribution for her mistake. When no blow lands, she relaxes slightly and gives a small nod that doesn’t raise her head. “I understand, Your Grace,” she says meekly. The duke owns this village, and it shows in the way he rules. He can decide to take more than his usual share in tithes, order harsh floggings and lengthy imprisonments for the smallest slights and pettiest crimes, even steal people away to be his personal servants. It isn’t cowardice or defeat to defer to him like this, merely sense. Everyone fears the duke.

“Your husband has been injured. Oddly enough, in the war camp just before his first battle.” Milah’s mind skips right past the implication in the captain’s words and focuses on the fact that Rumple is hurt.

“Oh gods,” Milah breathes, raising from her bowed posture. “Will he be all right? Is he well enough to travel? He should be here, so I can tend to him.” So he can tend to me, she adds silently, for having to endure this ordeal. As much as she wants out of this damned fort, she hates that she’ll return to an empty home without her husband there to hold her.

The captain ignores her concern and asks more directly, “Rumplestiltskin is known for being a coward, is he not?”

Milah shakes her head. “His father was,” she corrects. “But some people don’t give him the credit for being his own person.”

“Perhaps because no credit is due!” the duke cuts in impatiently. “I will say this in a way that your stupid peasant brain can comprehend. If your husband maimed himself that is not only cowardice but the very worst sort of it – treason against me!”

Treason.

The word settles heavily into Milah’s blood. It seems she’s finally been given her explanation, but instead of relief she feels only dread.

“I - ” she starts, voice cracking under the weight of her scattered thoughts.

“If you attempt to obscure the truth, that would be aiding in treason and your punishment would be nearly as severe as a traitor’s,” the captain reminds her. “I’d consider carefully what you are about to say.”

“I don’t need to consider.” Her voice is assertive and confident, though she feels anything but. She does need time to consider – not over whether Rumple is guilty, but to process the enormity of it all. But there could never be enough time for that. Treason. They could kill Rumple if she says the wrong thing. “My husband has lived his entire life under the shadow of his father’s cowardice. He’s never wanted anything more than for people to see him for more, to see him for him. He wanted to go to war, to finally have a chance to prove he wasn’t that man. He hated the label of coward so much, why would he run to it now?”

The duke makes an unimpressed hmph sound. But the captain gives her a terse smile. It’s not warm or encouraging by any means except that it isn’t a look of outright anger. That’s enough for her to take it as a good sign, though she tries to tamp down her small glimmer of hope. It’s the duke that needs to be convinced, and he clearly doesn’t want to be.

“I grow sick of this,” the duke says, proving her thoughts.

“Of course, Your Grace.” The captain nods in his direction. “We have heard what we need. Guards, she may leave.”

Milah staggers to her feet, wincing as her knees unbend. Luckily, the guards don’t grab and drag her this time, nor do they follow her out the front door of the fort. They spare her the indignity of being seen as a prisoner, but they needn’t have, for rumors have already reached the village, leaving everyone to see her as something much worse – a traitor’s wife.

#whumptember2023 #whumptember2023 day 6 #day six: behind bars #whump #lady whump #fear #capture #punishment #struck #once upon a time #milah #fanfic #my writing

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pandoramusicbox · 2 years

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Fish people

Sea kin, theres three kinds of fish people in my setting, mermaids (called mers), finfolk (also called neptonians or neps), and sirens. The main difference between the three species is body shape or more accurately the way they move. mermaids move like dolphins, sirens move like snakes/eals or fish, and finfolk possess legs like a person so they can walk and often use a mix of swimming styles including swimming like a seal, like a person, floating, and swimming like a frog. All of them can be bioluminescent and many of them have some ability to change color all. The three species (technically in taxonomy the same family) live a long time anywhere from 350 years to 600 years

-they also don’t stop growing. so some of the oldest members of the species can get massive they don’t grow at the same rather through their life

so theres that, but because they don’t stop growing, they a bit like trees, have good years they grow more than bad year where they grow less, some species grow at faster average rates than others.

-hhhmmm I wonder how that works for hybrids. ill have to think about that. because instead of growing every year they might just grow every few years or so. would probably depend on the hybrid too. ill cover that particular can of worms at some other date.

Meanwhile I should cover the hair issue---

-Some of the fish people have hair, and as someone who has had long hair and swam, I can tell you it creates drag. That is a bit of an issue for things that live in the water. So for these fishies the hair actually has another use. For one thing its rather different then human hair in texture and structure. its usually black or brown in color. the hairs themselves are sort of hollow and can fill up and be drained of water really quickly. when the hair is exposed to water it has an interesting property of being able to slightly change texture. sort of like an octopus's skin but not as dramatic. another interesting property of the sea folk's hair is its ability to change color. the hair can change to blueish- greenish hair tone or sometimes even a more reddish color. this ability is actually very useful for the sea folk who use ambush as their main form of hunting. using their “hair” as camouflage generally making it look like sea weed. theirs ability to change the hairs texture is nonexistent when their hair is dry but the color-changing property is still there. other seafolk with other hunting methods tend to not have hair, and instead are a much more streamlined body. they dont really have body hair either, made clear by a lack of eyebrows. (though they do have short eyelashes)

the normally dark hair color is rather important to the seafolk because most cases where they naturally have lighter or diffrent hair colors can affect tier ability to use their hair as camouflage, famously blond or white hair is a rather detrimental mutation that prevents the ability to change hair color. the current empress of the Neptonian empire is blond, the mutation is relatively rare still in modern times but at least within the Neptonian empire it is not as detrimental due to strong social networks and not needing to be the sole primary hunter in a family. other examples of nonfunctioning mutations of their hair is for the merrow; a fin folk who live just off the coast of Ralunjas, in a place called the red kelp forest. where their hair has more reddish to maroon-ish pink coloration, though some of them have functional brown hair, their adaptation for that specific environment makes it difficult for them to live outside of that environment. the other major group of sea-folk with strange hair mutations are the sjofru of the northern sea and the ice pass. their hair has none of the camouflage qualities so is generally lighter and thinner than what it is for others, their hair often has colors ranging in the blues, grays and greens to soft reds and oranges that tappers out to a near transparent color at the tips. unlike their warmer sea cousins who use the hair for camouflage the tips of the sjofru hair is covered in tiny poison filled stingers, essentially they have jellyfish tendrils for hair. the potency of the venom depends on family.

-The humanoid appearance of the sea-folk is only skin deep and even then, its barely skin deep as demonstrated by their hair. The first thing that separates them from humans is the fact that they have a hexapedal body plan verses a humans quadrupedal body plan. then theres the whole bioluminescence thing. they generally have a few patches of this bioluminescent skin when they do have it. some sea kin depending on species can have other features like antenie or exess fins or scales or other things.

All regular sea folk have these hexapedal body plans though on some species it is more obvious than on others. the fin folk are usually the most easy to the the six limed body as they have their primary arms, secondary arms (usually just called their fins) and their legs, for sirens and mermaids their “ legs” are internal and generally not easy to see but they do have them.

-Sea folk nails are sharp and claw like, and their teeth are sharp too. most species have at least two rows of teeth. Some larger species have three rows. The only species with a singular row tends to be some fresh water ones, but they still usually have some indication of their second row of teeth. Like sharks if they loose a tooth a new one from the back row just moves up to take its place.

They have webbed hands. and for the neps their feet are long and webbed too. some deep sea species that rarely need to use their hands have more fin like hand. that work better as paddels. the webbing is not all the same either. sometimes it is skin that is elongated and stretched between the diddgets, other-times it is a filament mesh of keratin, other times it is a thin mucus producing membrane. for most species getting the membrane torn is not too painful but is rather avoided non the less and the webbing will grow back in some capacity.

They are all amphibious, able to breath both air and water, though it’s not the most pleasent experience to move between the two substance. As they have to force all of the previous substance out of them, like coughing out all the excess water, with some practice they can do this change in a few seconds as opposed to a few minutes for one who is not accustomed to the change. they are also capable of “holding their breath” for either substance as well. They can have gills in either one or two place. The most common place it right along the neck or where the ribs are located, but some less common but still possible places are, right along the face such as the cheeks, right below/in the armpit area, or the collar bone area. Speaking of collar bones. they dont have them, or at least not in the same way humans do, like most sea mammals they lack them. instead they might have a more flexible cartilage matrix that has a simmular function when they are on land. they also have a bit of an odd structure to their rib cage, they are able to sort of temporarily "collaps" their sternum enabling them to more or less squeeze through spaces they can fit their head through.

The sea folk are able to move between fresh and salt water unlike most regular fish and sea life, but they rarely do this as the transition, especially if it is a fast transition, this can make them very sick. they are also able to temporarily “close up” their gills when they are on land, some species are capable of this for their nosterals as well, and most species have a second eyelid that they close when in water to protect the eye.

the absurd length of their feet makes it difficult to move around swiftly on land when walking. so for fin folk they tend to walk on their tippy toes and can do so quite easily, but when they stand they go down on a flat foot. unlike humans they can stay up on their tippy toes for extended periods of time. some finfolk species often have shorter feet then their other relatives, these are generally the species who spend more time on land, like the kappa who are primarily river dwelling fin folk, other fresh water fin folk also have shorter fins. though they are not the most agile on land they are quite fast in water, the average sea folk usually have their top speeds somewhere in this range. -finfolk: 20-30 mph ( 32.2- 48.3 kph) - mers: 31- 37 mph ( 49.9- 59.4 kph) -sirens: 35- 45 mph ( 56.3- 72.4 kph)

- Sea kin can reach great depths. most surface water can regular reach depths of 6600 ft (2000 m), while species more adept for deeper water can comfortably make it to 15000 ft (4500m) while mysterious deep sea sea kin can reach depths of 19685 ft (6000 m). though they can reach these depths they can be in trouble if they try to leave those deep pressures once they have reached them. most deep presures are easier for older and larger individuals to reach and individuals with deeper blood colors. - speaking of blood color i nearly forgot one of the most important differences between humans and sea kin, and one of the main things that diffurenturates them from other kins, their blood color. For one thing each individual of any of those species can have one of three blood colors. the first and most common blood color is red but not the same kind of red as human blood. the red seakin blood is a darker almost maroon or burgandy color. second color is a purple, a very reddish purple like wine, plum or mulberry. the rarest and final color is pink a richer dark pink, like magenta or royal fusia. each blood color results in some slight differences, the main most notable one is lifespan and apparent durability other than that not too much. as blood color is more important socially among the sea folk.

-They have an ability to create a strange calcium mixture that the use as a glue or cement. this is not an ability possessed by every species or even individuals among species. they do use this ability to create safe nesting grounds for themselves. some species like the kappa have adapted this ability for other pourposes. this is an ability that seems to be shared with a strange sea kin called shell people. one of the downsides of this is the need to eat excess calcium for this sticky mixture, but they do that by eating seashells and bones from whale falls and such. the substance is soft and malmble for the first minute it is created, exhibiting some properties of a non-newtonian fluids, but if produced right it quickly hardens to a solid regardless of being under water or in the air. it hardens more quickly when exposed to air. -Singing, all of sea kin are known by land dwelling people for having haunting voices able to resonate great distances. and that is true even the worst of their singers can be louder and sound more haunting than any human. this is in part due to a general cultural value of singing as a courting ritual, but also due to having a hollow cavity somewhere in their chest they use to create these higher resonances, this is sort of like whale song. at a smaller scale. they also poses more complex vocal cords. They are only able to produse sound with air. some species can come up for air once in a decade and store and reuse the air for sound, but most of their close corders communication is done through a sigh language. so this is a condensed and hopefully understandable description of the primary seakin.

TLDR; Sea Kin and the three sister species of mermaids, finfolk and sirens are rather human looking but the recemblence is not skin deep, they have diffrent hair, blood colors, and skeletal structures. they are good at singing a lot like whales and they can swim fast. main difference between the three spesies is how they swim, like a dolphin, like a shark or like a frog.

#worldbuilding #worldbuildingculture #mermaid #fish person #fish people #siren #fantasy biology #finfolk #fantasy creature #fantasy kingdom #fantasy empire #river mermaid #gills #webbed hands #webbed feet #mermaid tail

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a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats · 1 year

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Some basic info for people just getting started with DF with the steam version; I’m not super far into it yet so no commentary on the new UI, but if they did it right it should be much easier to parse!

Important to actually enjoying your first game of dwarf fortress

- don’t forget the anvil; your embark starts with one, don’t take it out and if you do put it back in because it’s required for everything that has anything to do with metal.

- Embark in an area with soil so you’ll have an easier time starting a farm. Making a farm on stone is a whole process of wetting the rock, usually with water sourced from a river, installing floodgates, etc and while it’s not super difficult, I’d imagine it can be a little rough if you’re struggling with the basics.

- Embark in an area without an aquifer. They’re all over but they are a royal pain to get through and offer comparatively little benefit if tamed. There’s a way to mod them out (on the not steam version anyway; I don’t know why steam would be any different as I saw it loading RAWs when I started but a disclaimer as I haven’t actually fussed with the files yet so I Dunno Man.)

- A drawbridge is a way to completely lock out the outside world in most cases. It’s worth installing one on your main entrance once you get your feet under you, even if they’re sort’ve finnicky. Close it if trouble rears its ugly head and you will (probably) be safe, and with any luck the trouble will walk off on its own time.

Meta Talk Nonsense, feel free to ignore these but if you’re looking for a bit more additional guidance then here you go; though I stress that the game is more about the journey then anything so completely removing any sort of personal element from the game is a great way to ruin it.

- if you’re bringing gear and a military dwarf on your initial embark, bronze is a good pick; it’s roughly equivalent to iron military wise (slightly worse, I think?) and it’s half the price. Iron might be fine, but it’ll take most if not all of your embark points, so if you want to bring anything extra (like animals!) then bronze is probably the way to go. The benefit from iron is significant, but not significant enough to warrant not being prepared for fort development.

- combat actually uses some skills not in the combat tab; notably teacher. Teacher will improve the rate dwarves learn skills from their militia captain. I’ll usually bring a 5 fighter/dodger 5 teacher with me as my starter militia dwarf, just so military dwarves can get some basic education.

- A good general use weapon class is war hammers. They tend to bash through armor reasonably well and have a larger chance to break bones, causing debilitating pain to the other guy, which can essentially be thought of as a win.

- If you’re bringing livestock make sure they can graze, and make sure they’re assigned to a pasture, as they can and will starve to death following dwarves around underground where there’s nothing for them to eat.

- Traps are a great supplement to a military. Dwarves will not set them off on accident (unless they pass out on them), and a boulder to the head can do a surprising amount of damage even to an armored target.

So You Embarked On An Area Without Soil: you’ll need to dig into the side of a nearby river or pond and drain the water through the area where you want your crops. Your farm will have to be underground or at least below surface level as a result. You also need to dig out an area for the water to drain into, (because most dwarves cannot swim and as a result are terrified of walking through even shin high water) and install a floodgate and hook up a lever to the floodgate Before Breaching The Side Of The River Or Pond so you can turn off the water flow when it’s passed over the stone. You don’t need to dump a load of water onto it, you just want there to be a mud layer on the stone, which should happen after pretty much any water passes over it. After that you can make a farm on it.

If you ask me this is worth trying to do even if you have a soil farm just so you know how to do it; it’s a good exercise in how basic mechanisms and water flow works, and it’s hard to mess up so bad it ruins your fort once you have some lower levels dug out.

#bats speaks #dwarf fortress posting #I am not super up to date so I didn't talk about newer stuff #IIRC it's not too horrible #there's also some very complex potential threats in the game and I'm not gonna stick that in a general purpose advice post #Losing Is Fun and all that #also if anyone needs more specific guidance please feel free to message #I have been playing the game for a while #and Love To Talk About Video Games #long post

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banannabethchase · 10 months

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Set the World Alight: Chapter 12 - also on AO3

It was going to happen eventually. Somebody was going to be cruel. But Matt's almost astonished at how many more people are kind. And violent. She didn't expect to be so giddy about the violence.

Warning: there is overt, explicit transphobia in this chapter by a side character. The transphobia is dealt with the way it should be: with fists and zero mercy. Please be cautious with yourself <3

Tuesday, March 11th

Matt

Matt slogs out of bed to make it to school, miserable and tied and so exhausted she doesn’t even know how to process it. Hours of trying to fix the broken sink, only for her dad to decide to call the plumber in the morning, have stolen her sanity.

“Why,” Nick mumbles, chugging his large iced coffee when Matt comes downstairs, “are we forced to exist as high school students?”

“Because the world hates us,” Matt mumbles. Her eyes are half shut as she sips her coffee. “Now stop talking before I remember we have a game this afternoon. I don’t think I’ll survive until then.”

They drive to school in near silence, a quiet Spotify playlist singing Ingrid Michaelson songs, and they shoot each other drowsy waves as they go to class. Matt was barely able to pick a normal outfit this morning, so focused on staying awake, that she pulled on dress she and Willow had picked up at Target over the weekend. At the very least, she’s comfortable.

Matt yawns her way through all of her classes, glad she’s pretty much at the point of coasting.

“You look dead,” Britt says. “What’s wrong with you?”

“The water pipe in our garage burst last night,” Matt mumbles. “Nick and Dad and I were up until, like, one in the morning fixing it.”

“Can’t you hire somebody to do that?”

Matt laughs. “Not when your dad is Matthew Jackson. He had all the materials and tools and whatever and insisted we help him. My mom was in charge of towels. And then he still couldn’t fix it.” She yawns again. “Oh, god, I’m gonna suck today.”

“You won’t,” Britt says. “Because, if you do, Athena will kill you.”

“Thanks for the support,” Matt mumbles, and she drains her energy drink.

Nick

Nick yawns as he starts the warm up, dropping his bags next to the bench as he gets dizzy.

“What are you doing?” Mox calls to hm. “We’ve got, like, an hour before the game starts.”

“If I sit down, I’ll fall asleep,” Nick says. “Last night we were all up really late at home.”

Mox frowns. “Yeah, Matt cut the goodnight call off because of – I think she said something with the sink?” Nick nods and yawns again.

“Water pipe busted.”

Mox winces. “That blows.”

Nick and Mox practice passing and shooting hoops as the other players walk in, and, finally, the other team. They’re from the town over, so Nick sort of knows them. Which is unfortunate, because some of them are real dicks.

“Heads up,” Nick mutters to Mox.

Mox glances over and rolls his eyes. “Oh, great. Them.”

The cheer team comes in next, dressed up for the game. Mox gets immediately distracted.

“I’ll – talk to you during the game,” Mox says, sending Nick a quick, concerned look. “I don’t trust these guys.”

Nick watches at Mox jogs his way over to Matt, pulling her in close and whispering something in her ear. And then he sees the people he was worried about on the other team.

The previous year, one of the guys on the team from Granville whispered some pretty horrible things about some of the players. Racist things, homophobic things. Small town white America horrible kind of things.

Nick has a sudden wash of realization of what might happen when they lock their eyes on Matt.

“Hey,” Nick says, yanking Cole’s arm, “keep an eye out for that kid with the weird bleach blonde hair.”

Cole follows his gaze. “Oh, shit. I remember that guy.” His gaze goes hard. “Want me to kill him if he does anything?”

“You?”

Cole shrugs. “I mean, me and Kyle could take him out, yeah?”

“We’ll just see who gets there first,” Nick says, tone dark. “I’m too tired for this. If he pulls anything…” Nick trails off, letting the threat hang in the air. He can’t shake this feeling of wrong.

“Don’t worry,” Cole says, clapping him on the shoulder. “If they pull anything, we’ve all got each other’s backs.”

Nick tries to smile. But it won’t come.

Matt

“Mox,” Matt says, beaming up at him. “Hi. What’s up?” There’s some sort of tension behind his eyes, something tight that worries her. “Everything okay?”

Mox frowns. He doesn’t nod. He doesn’t shake his head. “Hopefully,” he mutters. “Just. If anybody says anything to you, tell me. Okay?”

“Oh, right,” Matt says, sighing. “This team.” She looks over Mox’s shoulder. “They’re the ones who were being awful about Willow last time, right?”

“Among other things,” Mox says. She can see something behind his eyes. “Just…don’t go anywhere alone, baby. Alright?”

Matt nods. She’s never seen Mox like this before. Never seen him any type of anxious. It’s almost scary.

Adam, giant backpack over his shoulder, makes his way to the bleachers. She watches his expression shift as he checks his phone, and he slides down to the bottom of the bleachers. He doesn’t pull out any books. He doesn’t even have his phone out. He’s sitting, arms folded across his chest.

She’s not used to feeling a room fool of worry, is the thing. She’s been wary at the grocery store, at the mall, at the movies. But she’s never felt an imminent threat before.

“It’s going to be okay.” She exhales, practicing some of the grounding techniques her therapist has taught her over the years. “It’s going to be okay.” Matt’s on her way to the other cheerleaders, though, when it happens.

“Oh, shit!” The tone is mocking, attention-grabbing.

Matt glances over at the person shouting, confused. She twists the ends of one of her French braids in her fingers. It’s not exactly that she knew this was going to happen. It’s not even that she knows that tone of voice is directed at her.

But you can’t fight a gut feeling.

“I told you, Alex,” says the guy who spoke. Matt can’t help but notice the poorly executed trendy haircut on bleached blonde hair. “This is the team with the tranny on it.”

Her entire body goes cold.

Matt moves to step up to him, but four things happen at once:

Adam half flies across the court toward the guy who spoke.

Jamie’s a whirl of French braids and rage zooming past Matt from the cheer bench

Nick’s jumped off of the bench behind Matt

And four, Mox, moving faster than Matt’s seen anybody move, pulls his fist back and slams it into the kid’s face.

Matt is not into this. She is not into the way Mox shakes out his hand, like it’s nothing, like he’s done this before.

“Talk louder,” Mox snarls, looming over the kid, laid out on the ground. “I fuckin’ dare you.”

Adam skids to a stop next to him, shoulder to shoulder. Then Nick, then Jamie.

It’s pretty much mayhem, the next couple of moments. Matt steps in to trip a guy, sending him to the floor. Somebody throws a punch at Mox and hits him in the nose, but Mox laughs and headbutts him so hard he falls to the floor.

The adults, stupefied for the first moment, rush in soon after. Matt’s a little smug at the way the guy she tripped is half crying on the ground, holding his face. Adam’s flattened a guy with one move with his forearm, and Mox has taken on two of them at once and gotten a bloody nose for the effort. Matt has to force herself not to climb him like a tree. Jamie has the bleach blonde kid in a headlock while Nick stares him down, hand twisted in his hair, and Matt’s never felt so safe in her life.

“Break it up,” Coach Gunn says.

Coach Rayne comes up to Matt and checks her face, her arms. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine,” Matt says, even though she’s shaking a little bit. “I’m fine.”

Coach Gunn is peeling Jamie and Nick off of the bleach blonde guy, and Matt stares him down. He blinks first.

“That’s what I thought,” she says in her prissiest voice as she tosses her braid over her shoulder.

The other coach comes over. “Jesus Christ, Marcus, this is strike three.” He nods at Gunn and grabs his player by the shoulder, spinning him around. “Get your ass on the bench. You’re removed from the team.” He looks over at the other three. “And y’all are on this ice.”

Matt follows his gaze to the three on the ground, looking miserable. The other players come over. Matt doesn’t want to be that person, but he thinks he spots a few of them smiling at him, including a boy with what may just be a rainbow necklace.

“Thank you,” says one of the other team. “We’ve been wanting to do that to those four for, like, years.”

Mox lets out a great laugh, one Matt wants to hold in her pocket for the rest of her life. “You insult my girlfriend, you go through me.” He stares everybody in the room down . “Warning to everybody, I guess.” Mox turns and walks toward Matt, pulling her in and kissing her so hard she forgets her own name. When he pulls back his smile is soft and gentle. The one he saves just for her. “You hear me? Nobody messes with my girl.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, Matty.”

Matt’s heart is beating so fast she can’t catch her breath, is so into this guy she gets to call hers she can’t think. “Okay,” she manages to say. For some reason, she feels like she’s going to cry. It could be because of the slur she had to hear, it could be because of the violence she witnessed. But she thinks it’s because of the confession of dedication she just heard from Mox, and she’s pretty sure she knows it now.

“Yeah?” Mox asks, smile reaching his eyes.

Matt nods and leans in again. Mox starts kissing every ounce of sanity out of Matt, and she’s happy to let it happen, despite the blood, despite the violence. Nick clears his throat, and Matt pulls away.

“Um,” says Coach Gunn, frowning. “Now, I think I’m legally required to, like, yell at you about that. Or take you out of the game, since you technically threw the first punch. Though it was definitely deserved.” His eyes follow the kid being taken out by his coach. “And to get you checked out by a doctor or something.”

“Oh, no,” says the referee, “no, this game isn’t happening. You just had an all-out fight on the court. I’m calling this one a forfeit on both sides.”

“Forfeit?!” says the kid who yelled about Matt, twisting around in his coach’s grip. “They started it!”

“They did not,” says the ref firmly. “You used a transphobic slur. What did you think was going to happen?”

The kid opens and closes his moth a few times, clearly baffled at the consequences of his actions, and Matt allows himself to feel a little smug about it.

“I’m fine, Coach,” Mox says, dabbing at his nose. “Shit, I’m really leaking like a faucet, aren’t I?”

“Kind of,” Matt agrees as they make their way backstage to the trainer’s. She looks down at her uniform, the white stained nearly pink. “I have blood, like. Everywhere.”

Mox grins. “Makes you look badass, though. Kind of warrior princess, you know?”

Matt leans in and kisses Mox again. She touches Mox’s face, wiping some of the blood where it’s slowed to a trickle out of his nose. She doesn’t care that it’s staining her cheer uniform, that it’s ruined her makeup, that there’s blood in her hair. “I like that idea.”

They make it to the trainer’s room.

“Mox, you’ve always bled like a stuck pig,” Doc Sampson says, a little laugh behind it. He dabs at Mox’s nose. “Matty, you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not my blood.”

Doc Sampson raises an eyebrow. “You fought?”

“No, it’s mine,” Mox says. “But after, I had to kiss my girl. They were being jackasses. Had to show them who was the lucky one here.”

Matt watches Doc’s face carefully, prepared for shock or horror or disgust, with the way the day is going. But, instead, Doc just smiles.

“My little girl is trans, too,” he says. “She’s in third grade. Maybe…Maybe the two of you could get ice cream? Talk?”

Matt nods. “Yeah. I. I think that would be cool.”

Doc nods and tends to Mox.

“Do you know where the other guy is?” Matt asks. Mox keeps a hand on hers, fingers intertwined. She squeezes it. “Are they bringing him in here?”

“Absolutely not,” Doc says, shaking his head. “They have their own trainer. They can work in the backup room.”

Matt smiles. “Thanks, Doc.”

Doc nods. “We protect ours, right? Nobody messes with the kids, mine or my athletes.”

Doc and Matt are quiet while Mox chatters on about stories when he’d broken bones in the past, Matt’s fingers still entwined with Mox’s. It feels casual now, safe, like Matt doesn’t have to watch her back or turn around every five seconds to make sure no one is on their way to hurt her.

“Alright,” Doc says, “I’ll grab you some more gauze from the back before you leave, just in case your nose starts bleeding again. Don’t bump it!”

“I’m not gonna bump it,” Mox says, rolling his eyes. “Matt, please don’t bump my nose.”

“I’ll do my best,” Matt promises.

They’re left alone, finally, after everything. Matt hops off the bench and starts pacing the small distance she can manage while still holding Mox’s hand. She doesn’t realize how hard she’s gripping his hand until she sees him wince for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice shaky.

“Don’t worry about it, baby,” Mox says, voice soft and gentle. “Are you okay?”

Matt nods. She’s not going to cry, she doesn’t think. She doesn’t feel the urge. “I’m okay,” she says.

“I’m so sorry you had to hear it.” Mox reaches out with grabby hands, and Matt steps into his space, burying her face into his chest. “That guy’s an ass and the worst person in this building, by far. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Matt mumbles into Mox’s chest.

Mox sighs, tightening his hands around her, burying his now clean face into her neck. “I should – I should have hit him before he started talking. You shouldn’t have had to hear him say that – that word.” Mox exhales again, then leans back. He smiles down at Matt, adjusting her hair where it poofed out of her braids.

Matt doesn’t even think before she says what’s next. She just knows she has to say it. “I love you.”

Mox’s eyes widen. “Really?”

Matt nods, unsure that she meant to say it now, but sure. No matter what, she’s sure. “I do.”

“I love you, too,” Mox says, smiling. “But you already knew that.” And what can Matt do but lean in and kiss him again?

Nick

Nick is a little unsteady, trying to get his breathing under control. He’s never been in a fight before. He’s always known it was a possibility, that kind of hatred, toward his friends and Matt for being who they are, but he didn’t expect it so blatant. He didn’t expect it to come to his sister first.

“Are you okay?” Adam asks. He rests a hesitant hand on Nick’s shoulder. “You’re kind of shaking.”

Nick’s quiet for a moment. He watches the other coach go off on the boys that had backed the transphobe, half dragging them away from the court and out the door toward what he hopes is the extra trainer’s room. It’s a comfort that the coach is showing them no sympathy, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “Matt shouldn’t have had to hear that.” He looks up into Adam’s clear, bright eyes. “We shouldn’t have had to do that.” Suddenly, he feels tears well up in his eyes. “Why did that have to happen?”

Like it’s automatic, like it’s happened a million times and it’s what’s expected of him, Adam pulls Nick in. He gathers Nick in his arms, holds him to his strong chest, and they stand there, just breathing. Nick cries. He cries and shakes and mourns the day he should have had, and Adam holds him silently. He doesn’t even think about how there were probably people there waiting, people there watching. People who can now see how effected he is by all this. And he doesn’t care.

Adam is making calm shushing noises, stroking his hair.

Nick pulls back a little, looking up at him. “Are you using your scared animal voice with me?” he asks.

Adam flushes pink. “Um. Okay, yes, but I thought it would help, and it did! You’re not crying anymore.” He reaches out and, with a callused thumb, gently brushes the tear away from Nick’s cheek. “Hey. You good?”

“I’m good,” Nick says, only half aware of the way he still has his arms wrapped around Adam’s waist. Like this is how they always stand. “Thanks for joining ranks with us to kick that guy’s butt.”

Adam smiles. “Of course. Thanks for texting me heads up beforehand. I was ready.” He reaches up and tucks Nick’s ponytail back over his shoulder. “Nobody messes with my best friends, right?”

The two of them help the other girls on the cheer team clean up their bags and everything. It’s slow work, though, everyone recuperating from the stressful events.

“I would have killed him,” Jamie says as she takes off her basketball sneakers and throws them in her bag so hard they bounce. “You hear me? I would have killed them if they’d let me.”

“We know, babe,” Britt murmurs, rubbing Jamie’s back. “It’s okay.”

They talk, a little. But it’s clear they’re all killing time, waiting for Mox and Matt to come back.

“You guys can go,” Nick says, doing his best to mimic a smile. “I mean, you don’t have to. But I’ll take care of her. And Mox, too.”

“And me,” Adam says. “I’ve got them, too. Don’t forget about me.”

“No one would forget about you, Cowboy,” Cole says, clapping Adam on the back. “Good work.”

The crowd dissipates quickly, an unseasonably warm March afternoon now open to all of them, and Adam bumps the back of Nick’s hand when they’re alone.

“You good?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Nick says, “I mean – I guess, yeah.” He fidgets again, bumping Adam’s hand. “I just want to make sure Matt’s okay, is all.”

“I’m not asking if Matt’s okay, Nicky,” Adam says. He steps in front of Nick, tilting Nick’s chin up to meet his eyes. Nick’s heart races. “I’m asking if you’re okay.”

“I –” Nick exhales again and can’t stop himself from falling into Adam’s chest again, hugging him close. A few moments pass while Adam rubs his back, and then Nick pulls back. He’s close to Adam’s face, and if he leaned in. If he admitted what he really wanted –

Somebody clears their throat, and Nick and Adam jump away from each other.

“Adam.”

Nick turns to see Mox and Matt. Mox looks focused, determined. Matt just looks confused.

“Yeah?” he asks hesitantly. Nick hates the way Adam tenses, like he’s getting ready to be fought. “What’s up?”

Mox looks to Matt, who, still confused, just shrugs. Mox walks up to Adam and Nick doesn’t even have a chance to step in.

Mox throws his arms around Adam’s shoulders, hugging him close. “Thank you, man.”

Adam throws a bewildered look over Mox’s shoulder to Nick. Nick can’t do anything but shrug, befuddled beyond belief. “For what?”

“Coming to back me up,” Mox says, stepping backward. “Um, earlier. You didn’t leave us high and dry.”

Adam nods, slowly, like he’s not quite sure what’s going on. “Of – of course I’d step in. Nobody messes with Matty, right?”

Nick looks over to see Matt beaming. She seems to be seeing something in the moment Nick just can’t yet.

“I’m sorry I punched you back in middle school,” Mox says. “I mean, I know it was a while ago, but I never apologized, which is shitty. I, uh, I think you’re a pretty good dude. I get it if you don’t want anything to do with me, but I just wanted you to know, like.” He shrugs. “You’re a good person, and I appreciate that.”

Adam looks bewildered. “I – okay. I mean, yeah. We don’t really have an issue now, right?”

Mox shakes his head. “Not unless you think we do, that is.”

Adam smiles. “Cool, I. I’m glad we’re good.”

“Can we get lunch or something?” Matt says, sneaking up beside Mox and slipping her hand into his. “If we don’t have a game, we can get food or something.” She blinks. “We could always go to – ”

“No Sonic,” the three boys say all at once.

Matt stares at them, blinking. “How did you all know I was gonna say Sonic?”

“Because they have cherry limeades and popcorn chicken, and those are your favorite things together,” Mox says, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And then you complain, every time, that they didn’t give you enough extra cherries.”

“I don’t –”

“You definitely do,” Adam says. “Every time we have an option to get food, you always say Sonic and then you always complain about the cherries.”

Matt turns to Nick.

“Don’t look at me for help,” he says. “They’re right.”

“You three suck,” Matt says, pouting.

“Let’s Taco Bell or something,” Mox says. “I want a crunch wrap.”

Matt and Mox are in front as they get to parking lot, their hands swinging between them. Nick looks over at Adam quickly, fast enough he doesn’t think Adam can see it. And begins to wonder how long he can fight this off.

Adam’s quiet, too, and Nick wants to ask, wants to say something, wants to bring it up. But he’s too scared.

#MoxMatt #MoxMatt high school AU #wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes #This chapter gave me hell because I didn't want it to happen but it kind of needed to? Which sucks. But.#If there's anything I need to fix or tag for please let me know!

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