#all the changes happening in this job when ive JUST started it 2 weeks ago

[charlottecutepie]

☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

author note: Ive been thinking for a very long time whether I should publish this fic here. this is my fav fic I wrote for fnaf, I especially like the way I portrayed William here. so please, if any of you would like to see this story here, can you leave a comment? It’ll help me to understand. I’m just unsure if I should post this fic here :’’)

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 2.

Chapter 1. Thoughts

Chilly spring night. Light wind and rain. It's so fresh outside that the opposite effect appears: you feel as if you are suffocating from excess air. Outside is your favourite smell of wet grass after the rain. Light smile appears on your lips, and you carelessly go out on the porch of your house, looking at the beautiful view in front of you.

At such moments, everything around seems to be a part of you, you feel some kind of connection with nature and this world. Peace, tranquility, two things what you lack in life.

Today was a bad day. Maybe tomorrow will be better? Tomorrow will be the same. And when will it be better? Does this hell have an end?

Your head is filled with bad thoughts. It feels like every day is getting a little worse than the previous one. You never understood why you deserved such treatment from your father. It was as if he was doing everything so that you wouldn't feel like his daughter. He never even called you that. Something bad happened in your family every day, mom and dad always argued, and you always ran into your room in a state of panic, anxiety. What if father does something to her? That's what happened a few years ago. When you called your aunt in tears, begging her to come, because your father broke your mom's leg and beat her to a concussion. You could have been next if your aunt hadn't arrived on time. That evening, the picture of father changed dramatically in your little child's head.

“Father” means something cold, something cruel. The one who can punch, beat, shout, scream. Abuse.

You live with this thought to this day, but the only thing that has changed is that now there is no father anymore. He died a month ago, which was a shock to your whole little family. You hardly remember what happened exactly on the day of his death, but you clearly memorised your mother who cried all night because she knew well that the only one who could work to feed the family was her husband.

And now, because of this husband she cannot find a well-paid job, because he took care to provide her with a serious disability. And you're too young to work, first you must finish school and university.

Your skin was covered with goosebumps, you went back into the house. Passing by mom's room, you made sure that she was asleep and went to your own one.

Tomorrow is another day.

…

June 22.

“Y/n, breakfast is ready.” you heard mom's voice from the kitchen. Telling her you'd be coming soon, you headed to the bathroom to comb your hair and wash your face.

On the dining table you saw a plate with your favorite breakfast. Pancakes with honey, it couldn't not make you happy. You smiled and sat down opposite your mom. Woman was in a joyful mood.

“Good morning, dear, how did you sleep?” she asked gently, examining your face expression. That's how your conversation started, about everything and nothing at once. She told something about her plans for today, for a week, about her friends, about how one of them gave birth again. You just enjoyed her monologue, sometimes nodding and shaking your head. It was nice for you to see a sparkle in mom's eyes, it was something strange and unique for you, but warming soul. “I absolutely forgot that soon is your birthday!”

“Oh, really? If you hadn't told me, I wouldn't have remembered…” you answered in confusion, fidgeting in your chair and twitching your leg. For some reason, the mention of your birthday made you uncomfortable. Probably because it will be your first birthday without your father. After all, when he was alive, you never really celebrated it. The maximum that was — sweets that your mother gave you in secret from him. You wonder what will happen this time?

“How are we going to celebrate?” Mom asked, smile on her face.

You looked at the floor, nervously fiddling with your shorts. You scratched your head, trying to think of something, but no idea came to mind. Your thoughts are empty again.

“It's your 18th birthday… We need to celebrate it well somehow.” for a second she paused, before looking at you with cheerful face. “Oh… Mr. Afton!”

Your eyes widened in surprise, because after the funeral, your family stopped communicating with Afton family.

“Mom, what are you up to?” you frowned. To be honest, you always got shivers running down your spine from his name, because your last meeting was at that cemetery, on the day of your father's funeral. Memories have entered your mind, forcing you to remember your last dialogue with Mr. Afton.

After the burial itself happened, you ran away from the crowd away. Your heart was racing like crazy, trying to jump out of your chest. You sat down on a wet bench, covering your face in hysterics. Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping onto a puddle under the bench.

“Young lady,” a low-pitched male voice called you out of hysteria. “Everything is okay? You've been sitting here for hour.”

You opened your eyes and raised your head. Next to you was standing was a tall, middle-aged man with dark brown hair, dressed in black trousers and a jacket. He leaned towards you, holding an umbrella over your head. His face seemed painfully familiar, but because of the hysteria, you couldn't remember who it was.

“Oh god, Y/n? I didn't recognize you, little one. Why are you sitting here all alone?” he smiled broadly as he sat down next to you on the bench, still holding the umbrella for you. “Your mom is looking for you, she's so worried. Her beloved girl is lost.”

You recognised this man. It was none other than William Afton. One of your father's friends, he often came to visit you, and your family also visited him. You were embarrassed by ignoring his questions because you didn't know what to respond. He's been staring at your face the whole time.

“Come on, princess, I see how cold you are.” with these words, he took off his jacket, putting it on your shoulders. “I understand how hard it is for you, honey.”

You haven't received so many nicknames from any men for all your 17 years of life. Never, not once. His voice at some point began to seem more comfortable and soothing. Because of all the surging emotions, you burst into tears again in front of him, no longer hiding your face. William, not wasting a minute, threw umbrella and took you in his arms, so that your face was hidden in his chest. His cold hands stroked your hair, soothing you, calming you. It may have looked strange from out of context, but you really needed support in such hard moment.

“Don't cry, Y/n. You'll be fine, little one.” he talked and talked endlessly, but because of your own tears and sobs, you ignored everything, only burying your nose in his chest more.

“He's the owner of a pizzeria! Do you want to celebrate there? I'm sure he'll give us a discount in honor of such an event.” her smile never disappeared for a second. You were already beginning to doubt at how real her emotions were.

“Are you sure? We don't have much money anyway…”

“Never mind, I want you to finally have the best birthday, dear.” she winked and got up from the table, putting the plates and mugs in the sink.

Your lips curled at the thought of having to see William again.

#william afton smut #fnaf x reader #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #fnaf william afton #michael afton x reader #william afton imagines #fnaf x y/n

[cleromancy]

What is your opinion on KonTim? I noticed you posting a lot of Kontim lately and I was wondering if you are beginning to like it? Also, since I know you stated you didn't like Kon in the past, are you beginning to change your mind about him?

to be honest my opinions from 12-13 years ago when i was a very angry very opinionated teenager often dont reflect my current opinions. i just want to establish that now.

but for the record my dislike of kon was more of a reflex to the way fandom at the time made him this very flat "aw shucks" kind of cardboard cutout. i only started disliking him when i tried reading more of his comics where he tended to be y'know. more nuanced, he'd be a jerk sometimes, inconsiderate and thoughtless, etc, and then turning around and going on tumblr where the way people talked about him didnt reflect that at all, that was really offputting for me. because i do--and did--love characters who are assholes, but not if thats not... like... acknowledged. and fandom was *aggressively* not acknowledging it, from my perspective. anyway i think when i get around to rereading yj98 ill like him more this time. particularly because i *am* so much older now and will be reading from more of a place of "yeah of course hes a shithead sometimes, hes 16 years old (for a given value of 16 years old)."

as for timkon i wouldn't say i "ship" it. and i would also like to contest the assertion that ive been posting "a lot" of it lately LMAO i think ive posted it like two times in as many weeks, and then maybe 2 more times i rbed smth where they were in the same nonshippy frame or textpost?

but back to the ship itself. to begin with they *are* very good friends whose relationship is important to them both, that changed them both, and that has an impact on characterization. and i dont... think you can read a lot of those old tim comics, if you read him as queer at all, without acknowledging that there was at at least one point something btwn them.

but as far as shipping it goes. first of all i still think most of fandom does it wrong. (if im being serious, theres no "wrong" way to do fandom, but that's also the most succinct way i can put it that i don't vibe with the majority of the stuff thats out there.) second of all i don't... like i dont *want* them to get together, exactly, unless a given writer is doing a really good job at the yarn theyre spinning convincing me otherwise, within the boundaries of that story.

but there *is* something btwn them, romantically speaking, and it has a lot of interesting character/relationship potential to explore for both of them. i am at the moment almost entirely uninterested in exploring it from kons side, which is another reason i dont really ship it, but that might change when i get around to rereading yj98. but i really don't think you can get a full picture of new earth tim drake as a character without admitting he at least had a thing for kon when kon was dead, any other point in time being much more up for interpretation.

so basically! 1. its interesting when its allowed to be interesting and not flattened into featureless fluff 2. i dont ship it AS SUCH but it absolutely was a thing that happened even if they never date or dated, and 3. as for kon himself i think ill be a lot more forgiving now both bc i Am older and bc no one in my fannish circle these days is annoying about him where i see it LMAO

#asks #dc

[fsp00]

Gaming on an old PC REALLY sucks.

Quick post for now...

I just wanted to emphasize how fucking bad it is to play on a laptop that is as awful as mine.

Just before i say anything else, take a look at the specs;

Yeah, just imagine the frames...

ACTUALLY, you don't even need to imagine, I'll tell you.

(These are the games I've tested, benchmarkable games such as cyberpunk or apex won't even run)

Counter-Strike: Global Offensive: 40Fps 1024x768 Very Low

Half-Life 2: varies, hits the 60 cap on undemanding areas, uncapped 90fps.[SPOILER] But for example when going out from the train station for the first time (outside with big screen and citadel in horizon), the game is really lagging at around 30fps.[SPOILER END]

Minecraft: 20fps 1.20.1 optifine low settings

Yeah... I haven't tested many other games, since many won't even start.

Now, I want to do a little fairly large side note here.

In part (as is with many other entries) this entry kinda also acts as a refresh of memory for me later.

From the last paragraph the takeaway for many might be, that this is about to change, which is true. For a week and a half now, I have went to a job (2 weeks at max), and plan on building a pc when I'm financially capable of doing so.

So basically, I just want to remember these fps counts for then, and I'll be sure to post a follow-up when that happens.

Ive had this laptop for as long as i can remember, by the way. It's gotten a few upgrades along the years, too.

Firstly, about one and a half years ago, I upgraded this by putting in a 4gig stick of ddr3 sodimm i found in another old laptop. Turns out it was the same bandwith too!

Then, a year ago I also upgraded the ssd from a 120gig one to a 500gig one.

That's all.

[theunholygrails]

Foolish Games Part 2

Masterlist

A/N: Introducing new characters and some drama! Percy is still sexy as ever :'(.

Warnings: BJ

I woke up to a door slamming so hard it joined the symphony of my pounding headache. I groaned, hoisting myself over the back of the couch to investigate to intrusion. A brunette head of long sweeping hair rushed through the foyer, barreling towards the kitchen. A familiar mop of black hair hurried after.

Reyna was speaking so fast in Spanish my brain scrambled to keep up. I noted lots of curse words followed by a series of sentences too fast I was surprised she even knew what she was saying. Percy was answering in slow measured words, probably fighting a hangover of equal measure. I ducked behind the back of the couch, reaching for my phone plugged in on the coffee table.

It was noon. 2% battery and a couple messages from friends. Nothing from my ex thank gods. Five from Annabeth being nosey. I opened my uber app, squinting in the sunlight breaking through the cream curtains. I managed to get my driver secured.

A door slammed and I winced, peaking to check that they were in another room. I did not immediately spot my dress in the chaotic. I grimaced remembering the midnight swim. When I sat up I finally noticed the white tshirt I wore and the basketball shorts. And then I went rigid remembering what happened after the swim.

“Motherfucker,” I whispered.

Now I really had to get out of this house. I checked the arrival time of my driver. Three minutes away. Great. I made my way on shaky knees to the large wooden front door. My keys were still in the collection dish. I grabbed them quietly and turned the door handle a fraction of an inch before another door slammed open and Reyna came barreling back into the foyer, brown eyes landing promptly on my guilty ass. Behind her, Percy pursed his lips into a thin line and raised both of his hands to lay on top of his head. His biceps strained nicely against the thin t shirt.

“The fuck is this?” Reyna whispered.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I babbled.

“It’s just Noa, Rey. Gods,” Percy said.

“I can see that, Percy!” She snapped. I was glad her spear was not strapped across her back this morning. “Why is she sneaking out of my house in your clothes?”

“People were swimming last night. Her clothes got wet.”

“I’m sure the fuck they did.”

“Zeus, Rey! You ended it with me. Why does it even matter?”

“Because I still fucking love you! I’m sorry, okay?” She burst out crying and Percy instantly pulled her against his chest. The memory of being in those arms drove me out the door like a nest of hornets.

~~~~

“I’m just saying. You have nothing to feel sorry for,” Annabeth paused to sip her iced coffee. “Unless they get back together and then you sleep with him. But as of right now, you’re good. Trust me. Been on the Percy train. We’re still friends. You’ll get over it. Just a harmless rebound for both of you.”

I groaned, laying my chin on the cool metal table parked outside our favorite coffee shop positioned between our New York apartments. Just two Manhattan women enjoying their Sunday afternoon. The air was cooling as fall neared. I pulled my baseball cap closer to the top of my sunglasses.

“Should I call him?”

“Maybe tomorrow. Let him deal with his relationship drama. Reyna is a lot to deal with. Still nothing from fuckface?”

“Nope and that’s fine.”

“Good for you. We will hydrate you, get you a good dinner, hit the gym before work in the morning and then get back on our bad bitch mental track. Agreed?”

~~~~

“Good Monday, yogis,” I chirped from my desk at the corner of my studio.

The third class was beginning to trickle in and I was settling into my rhythm. Hot yoga was next and hopefully I would sweat out all the negativity I’d allowed lately. I was in the middle of emailing back a potential client when someone rapped at the wood of my desk. I glanced up to a blonde male who waved gently.

“Heya, sansei Noa,” he said.

“That’s karate. Can I help you?”

“Do you do trial classes?”

I hit send on my email and closed my laptop. The guy was built like a poser with the defined muscles and chiseled jaw but his voice was soft and tempered. He was clean shaven and dressed like a basic gym bro.

“Normally you have to schedule them beforehand because of class size,” I gave my standard answer.

“Right, my bad. Sorry. I was just passing by the front and it looked like the kind of place I needed right now. Can I go ahead and pick a date then?”

I was staring too long into his pale blue eyes, honed in on the polite response. A nice change from the daily demanding consumers. “You know what? Ive got space right now if you like? Have you ever done hot yoga?”

A brilliant white smile showcasing sharp canines. “My favorite.”

“Perfect. I just need a name, number and email to get you a file started.”

He leaned large hands on my desk. “It’s Luke Castellan.”

Before he could give the contact information, I cut him off. “Wait. I know you.” His tanned skin paled significantly.

“I…”

“You’re supposed to be dead!” I blurted out.

His eyes skated around the room and he leaned in closer. “That’s not supposed to be public knowledge. I assume you’re a demigod?”

“Luke, you trained me. We took fucking sculpting together. The Apollo table was right next to the Hermes one for fuck’s sake.”

He winced. I heard a murmuring from the rest of my class I was disturbing with my volume. I collected my shock finally. “Take a seat if you want. We should talk after class. I need to start.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’m sorry Noa.”

I waved him off and walked over to my yoga mat. I sat cross legged and drew in an even breath to smooth out my emotions.

It was a slow 30 minute class. Each pose and movement dragged on. Finally, I dismissed the group and nodded Luke outside. He was waiting on the bench outside of the studio I split renting with a few other instructors. I sat next to him, wiping sweat from my face with the towel slung over my pink sports bra.

“Alright, talk,” I said.

“Not much to say. I was given a second chance at my hearing. Here I am. Starting over.” A shrug of well-defined shoulders. The muscles flexed beneath his gleaming sweat. His red tank top stuck to his chest and stomach. “I wish I remembered you, truly. That time is such a blur in my life.”

“It’s ok. You were a lot older than me and to be honest I had a massive crush on you so I probably hid most of the time.”

A surprised smile slipped across his lips. “I’m assuming the betrayal helped you get over that?”

I laughed outloud, slapping his knee. “No shit! So where are you staying these days?”

“Just around the corner actually. Got a job at the local gym.”

“Yeah I bet the fuck you did.” I squeezed his forearm between both of my hands. I wanted to roll my eyes at me falling back into my school girl giddy at him. Betrayal of the gods aside. He was even more gorgeous than ever. The scar down his face gave him a dark sexy vibe. Like a bad boy even though he claimed he was rehabbing himself now.

“So how, did you feel about the class?”

“I mean, I’d like to sign up for it a couple times a week, that’s for sure. And I’d like to take you out to dinner to make up for not remembering a beauty like you.”

I almost bit my cheek biting out the response of “Yes!”

“You’ve got my number,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I’ve got to get to work.” He shouldered his gym bag and excused himself.

The bike back to my apartment was spent reliving my tween fantasies about bad boy Luke. I opened my apartment door and screeched seeing a man sitting at my kitchen counter. Percy turned to face me.

“You know you live in New York? You should really lock that.”

“It was!” I snapped.

A quick grin. “Yeah. But it was easy to break into.”

I dropped my bag onto the floor and brushed past him to get a protein shake from the fridge. “I have to shower and get prepared for my night classes.” I told him.

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t either.”

He paused, studying my face in the shitty lighting of the single bulb hanging between us over the counter. “Are we good, Noa?”

“Of course. What’s a little head between friends?”

“Okay…I can’t read you. Can you not play tough just for a minute?”

I chugged the shake and set the bottle down between us. I leaned my arms on the chilled counter, bun knocking against the light. “Honestly, Percy. I’m fine. We are good.”

“Reyna moved back in.”

“You’re engaged again?”

I drank from the empty bottle to give myself something to do. He watched me with those green eyes. He’d known me for far too long. He was nearly impossible to deceive, but I was determined today. The fact that I had dreamt of fucking him two consecutive nights was irrelevant if he was off the table. Even if his lips did look incredibly juicy tonight. Even if they had done near illicit things to me just nights ago.

“I don’t know. She said she wanted to work on things. And it’s her dad’s house, so I can’t ask her to go and I don’t want to go to my mom’s and admit defeat.”

“You know you could stay here, Perc.”

He worked his jaw silently, then rubbed his hands over his face. “Thanks. I do know. Even if we aren’t officially back together, I think we should work on it…” he trailed off.

“And not tell her about you eating me out?” I leaned closer because I was mean to both him and myself. Because I knew this top combined with this angle gave him a simple opportunity. And he took it.

His tongue slid out between his lips as his eyes flicked down, stayed, then dragged deliberately back up. “Probably not,” he agreed.

For a long moment neither of us said anything. He had more to lose now than me. We were no longer on equal playing fields. So, I left the ball in his court. “I’m going to go shower.”

I was done washing in the first ten minutes. The second ten was giving him a little wiggle room to decide. I had my hand on the faucet to cut off the water that was beginning to go cold when I heard the door creak open. I watched through the fogged glass, catching a hold of my breath. I watched as he tugged his shirt off. My stomach flipped over itself when he reached for his jeans. What had I done?

The opening door let in a rush of cool air, perking my skin to attention. My eyes raked unapologetically over his naked, aroused body. His dark hair quickly slicked against his stubble covered jaw. His eyes were no longer the sea green but murky like the deep water of the ocean.

“Hey,” he said quietly, cautiously.

“Hey,” I giggled, reaching out to touch his rough jaw. He winced, catching my hand with his. “We probably shouldn’t kiss again.”

“Sure, whatever you want, Percy. What can I do to you?”

He groaned, turning his mouth into my palm, scraping teeth against the vulnerable skin. “Touch me,” he said.

My free hand instantly planted against his chest, scraping at the muscle. His eyes fluttered closed, head tilting back to expose his throat. I slid my other hand into his thick hair, tugging it tightly between my fingers and pulling to grant myself more access to the strong column of his neck. I bit it first, backing him into the tiled wall when he shuddered. I kissed over the reddening skin and moved my hands to his flat stomach, feeling the shuddered breaths beneath my touch.

“Like this?” I asked.

His reply was unintelligible. I kissed down his chest, moving my hand lower still as I went. When my fingers brushed over the v-line of his hips, I shifted my route away from the center and to his thighs. An annoyed grunt escaped his lips. “Hush,” I scolded, getting my knees under me. The now cold water was hitting the back of my neck and flowing down my body. I placed my hands on the inside of both his thighs, trailing them upwards and upwards until he nearly contorted when I gripped him. He let out a scandalous string of curses that quickly turned to moaning silence when I took him into my mouth.

He unraveled in minutes and I let him cum all over the breasts I had teased him with earlier. I rose in front of him, my own rosy cheeks mirroring his. “Now we’re even.”

#percy jackson smut #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson #logan lerman smut #logan lerman fanfiction

[clavis-baby]

The (possible) Downfall of Obey Me

5-16-21 (when writing this the event toys out)

(Tbh this post is just be trying to be naïve towards Solomare and at ever aspectthat I mention you have every single right to be upset and mad)

Okay so it’s no secret that Obey me is making bank and is very very obviously trying to make us money on the game with even trying to make us spend money with original stuff that was free to now secretly changing some mechanics behind our back

Here’s a post by @thalfox https://thalfox.tumblr.com/post/653994972840919040/i-just-noticed-a-little-bit-ago-that-the-barbatos that dose a really good job at explaining everything that has changed

(also this isn’t a hate thing fox has actually done a great work explaining everything to good detail of what has changed)

With all the changes I don’t think that it’s shocking to say that players are leavening the fandom because of many reasons to the games getting stupidly harder to even the game development

This is just a heads up this in no way is a post saying “hey this is why you shouldn’t feel this way” I kinda just wanted to see from a business standpoint and be naïve of what’s happening you have every reason to be mad at Solomare because even me I’ve been playing sense week 2 of game released and I’m only on lesson 42 every counter argument that I’m going to make I have complained about at some point

Arguments

(P.s grammar is really bad it’s sort of turned into more of a rant I wrote this at 5 am without any sleep so sorry)

1. Obey me is marketed as a free to play game

First there are many reasons people are mad this main thing that I hear about is from a lot of people is that is a “free game” which lets be honest is ridiculously hard

But still it is still essentially a “free to play game” I personally feel like the main prolog is lessons 1-20 to introduce all the characters to understand and getting the just on how to play the game

Okay and now here’s where I sort of stand with obey me, the gatcha rates are kinda ridiculously lucky when you play for the first week you luck is so amazing and is in my experience with gatchas the best luck I have ever seen for games so it’s not really hard collecting the cards

Now are they the best absolutely no, this I feel like is where you might have to spend money unless they up the skills on the Nightmare A

But what Obey me is technically trying to do is obviously making you pay by releasing your favorite demon card every 2 week which…aren’t essential they are really just hoping that you love your main demon enough to pay

With the high increase on the gatcha rate there really isn’t a pity unless you count the card pieces (but I’m not going to count that because you are more likely to roll your UR before completing the pieces)

Now after lesson 20 once the huge break I feel like Obey me almost expecting the players to keep logging in any doing jobs and some players did do that and boy did it pay off

But those players have not needed to spend a single dollar and are all caught up

Now for everyone else who didn’t the game was so difficult it’s unimaginable and because for that a whole lot of players left the game and personally I don’t blame them because of how much impact the next lessons were

Now sort of like Mystic Messenger you really just have to grind you ass off log in everyday and do JOBS :D and grind but as hard and long as it is you are still able to be a f2p but where obey me fails is that when grinding Mystic Messenger grinding was a lot more fun for me it took about a whole year to just get 550 hourglasses even when I purchased and same with Genshin Inpact it takes a while but with obey me there isn’t really anything else to do once you get to a certain point which I think obey me really lacks and could be part of a reason why people left. Grinding just is not fun (now I do think that on a phone there is so much you can do with a app game but I feel like there could be a bit more they could do)

Personally I’m just going to come out and say it don’t spend your money for one UR card for your favorite demon it’s really not worth it now im one of those Mammon stans but if I ever wanted a specific card for instance the Mammon bunny card when it first came out I wanted it so badly and didn’t get it but I also knew there would eventually be a revival so I saved and did not spend any DV(demon vouchers) until the revival

The events

Some people complain about getting the cards in the events onestly for me this one kinda makes a bit of sense I noticed the first change when the Vampire even came out and how it wasn’t as easy to get the second card but if you think of it it makes sence why

When the first event came out (Santa event) you only had to collect about 30,000 gingerbread compared to the 100,000 in event today but when the first event came out no one was at high enough levels for the AP required and you would every day when times rest to gain gingerbread as well as there was only one part to the story so when people kept leveling up their AP Obey Me had to higher the bar so it wouldn’t be so easy to get all these cards and have a actual reward system but eventually they also added another story lesson starting at the Ruri Chan event

Second thing about the events is that one there started just getting plain out boring.

When lesson 20 finished and we were all waiting for season 2 I was still loving in everyday and logging in at 12 and 8 for the free 30 AP because I didn’t know what else to and would participate in the event but eventually what I think that all otome games that have constant events like Ikemen Vampire and Ikemen Revolution they just start getting repetitive and getting real boring so I stoped playing until there was something more interesting

The last thing that some people complain about the events is that you can’t keep up with the story and the events now I can’t find it but I believe that @0beyme said something about the events a long time ago about how you have to pick between the event and moving through the main story which I kinda think isn’t really the games fault and more just a discussion on maybe missing a event

Add ons

Okay so they did this from day 1 you spend a certain amount of Devil point that you guaranteed don’t have and get out a card

Now this is just spelling out a disaster

Yeah so for the first Charge Mission is when you log in which everyone had but essentially what they want you to do is spend $100 on a game that you just logged into and never experienced or played I don’t really understand what they were even thinking with that but it must’ve worked for them to keep doing them

The second time they did it was when the break was over and season 2 came out and they celebrated by doing another charge mission which was the Lucifer and Simon card which would cost again $100 again I really don’t understand what they were thinking

And now this is I believe the fourth time they have done this for the 1.5 anniversary where they know that Mammon is obviously a favorite for many Obey Me players and where smart to put it on the really stupid charge mission but the difference is, is that instead of it costing $100 it would cost almost $200(same with Levi’s) for one thing I don’t understand

But one thing that you do have to remember is is that this isn’t apart of the main gameplay it really just is a mini game if you would even call it that of dress up and optimization so still I guess would be just a add on that has no effect on the actual story and game so you could I guess still call it a f2p game with really really stupidly high priced add ons

VIP

Umm so I am the first one to call myself out I have bought the VIP package first when season 2 happened and I knew how much I loved the game so personally it was worth it to me to support the developers and gain something out of it

Now I haven’t really seen much complaints on the VIP because people more use it as a “hey the game is impossible with out VIP” but the people who say this ive noticed never bought it

For $9.99 each month it is 100%

IT IS NOT WORTH IT!!! Out of everything you get which honestly isn’t much you get some extra free space in jobs and really that’s it and if you choose to use all your job slots for the highest paying you get around 30,500 about a 10,000 difference not really worth it in my opinion

With VIP you also get other things like higher chance of gifts from Jobs which you will not notice one bit, and +20 AP (which if you play the events is sort of useful) as well as extra packages exclusive to VIPs so after paying $9.99 per month you also get more things to buy and that’s about it for VIP now if you really want to get more grim just use your AP and spend it of normal lessons you will get more AP that way

The Story and Kids

This could be all me just complaining and a theory by I wanted to include it anyway

Obviously many people are not even caught up or even playing but as more lessons went on the less interesting the story became to me I don’t know if it’s a me thing but season one was absolutely amazing the once season two came out it was good but not anywhere as good and one

One reason why I think that it to me became almost bland is the amount of kids that is on the app and how sensitive people were if anything bad happens

It’s no secret that the Japanese versions a lot more non-kid friendly for hell’s sake the characters don’t even swear as well as all the colors I feel like to a American audience bright colors is usually marketed towards kids but in other countriesI think many understand that that is not always the case for instance a lot of people will thing in America that anime is all for kids but I mean look at Attack on Titan or Tokyo Ghoul you would not let kids watch that of literal people getting brutally murdered you just don’t see things like that in the West where something looking kid friendly could also be very adult like

Also wtf dose this in the App Store say +12 with Ikemen Vampire and a lot of other games if you have a game rated +17 then there will be a actual pop up that says something along the lines of how “thier could be violence acts and sexual act are you sure you want to instal”

Now the story I’ve seen people point this out but there isn’t really much character development for instance Beel he dose not have a actual personality his personality (fight me on this one) all you really know about him is that he likes food and his family now I could be wrong cuz I’m on lesson 42 but still not much and this is kinda with all the characters except the special ones where the devs really favor and love for story

Some one mentioned how the developers hold back a lot which I agree with 100% they said how when there is character development they all the sudden pull back and never will almost talk about it again like ???? So there’s this constant bland story

——————-

Honestly if you liked this I might do more cuz as much as this post made me especially at the end I kinda liked ranting so...yeah there is also many other things that I want to rant about but I’m tired soooo

feel free to comment your opinions btw

Bye ima go sleep now

#obey me #obey me shitpost #shall we date #shall we date lucifer #leviathan #obey me shall we date #lucifer #obey me beelzebub #shall we date mammon #obey me swd #obey me mammon #ikevamp #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #shall we date belphie #belphie

[mementomori-demimonde]

Old Wounds

Hidden Scars: I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII - IX - X - XI.1 / XI.2 XII - XIII - XIV - XV - XVI - XVII - XVIII - XIX - XX

Bonus Chapter (21):

Three years ago, you broke up with Miranda.

Or, to better say, three years ago, Miranda broke up with you.

After escaping Victor’s grasp and embarking on the flight headed to England, Miranda thought it was best for the two of you to be constantly moving around.

She easily procured fake IDs and documents and, as Mrs. & Mrs. O’Brien (so lame that you loved it), you checked in the most expensive hotels and made a mess of the room, only to be off the next day. Every bill was paid and the staff generously tipped, even though the money didn’t certainly come from your pockets as you didn’t have any: you found out it was fairly easy to transfer money around and trick the systems; at least all those hacking software lessons had proven useful, though you weren’t up to anything illegal - it was a matter of survivance, that was what you told yourself. 

Life was wild and exciting, every morning you were someone slightly different while remaining the same, every night you got lost in the scent of her, only to be woken up by her fingers exploring your body.

Miranda was never satiated. And while it was only a matter of sex, before, there was something addicting, now, that flickered between the two of you.

It was something you thought was unbreakable. Something so rare to be born in such a hostile condition that it would be so hard to kill that nobody would even try to.

You thought.

Miranda lit up the day you reached Glasgow.

You could see her eyes gleaming, you could see her sharp fangs shining at the pale light of the sun as she dragged you around, showing you this and that, telling you about her childhood while turning a child herself, innocent and carefree and happy enough to be pulling you in and kiss you in the middle of the road.

You stayed in Glasgow for five months after that, because she thought you were both safe.

You decided to rent a small apartment next to the theater because, apparently, Miranda loved the theatre and you loved discovering things about her just as much as you loved watching her glow as she watched the show and the people acting or the orchestra playing.

You even convinced her to take yoga classes and, except for a couple of smashed glasses when she thought a waiter was ogling you, and an exploded pillow when her football team lost to the rigors, she seemed to have learned how to manage her anger pretty well.

Even her part-time job as a dog-sitter helped her keep her calmness, even to balance with the frustration she would accumulate during her other job as a consultant; of what, you never worked it out completely, you simply knew it was something to do with finance, probably internationally. Miranda didn’t like to talk about it excessively - the pay was good, she seemed satisfied with it - so you let her be.

As for you, when the first opportunity came out, you accepted it right away: as a receptionist of a luxury hotel, you had a fair amount of working hours, perfectly timed with Miranda, and you were able to bake breakfast for the both of you, pack your lunch boxes and be back before her to prepare dinner when Miranda didn’t surprise you, instead, with some take out and a lit candle.

She uncovered a nice, unexpected side of her, but sometimes she still was the scary old Miranda, even when it wasn’t necessary, to your opinion.

Whenever she acted bad, you served her a banana on a plate instead of a nice dinner you baked, to commemorate the first meal she had you eat. Miranda would pout, eat the banana in silence, and ask for forgiveness between the freshly cleaned sheets. This worked the other way around too, of course, with the exception that she enjoyed herself a little too much, sometimes, prolonging the punishment to something more than just a banana for dinner. Either way, everything was solved in bed. Not that you complained about this method, of course.

You thought you couldn’t be happier; but you thought you could never be any less happy either, and, of course, you were wrong.

It was a casual question you blurted out without much thought.

One night, you were watching a cheesy movie on tv, just for the fun of hearing her complain while she had her legs slung over yours, silently demanding for cuddles she would never admit to be requesting. As the couple on the screen kissed and cried happily, you said “have you ever thought about marriage?”

Miranda froze. You tried to explain that it meant nothing in particular, it was just conversation, but something in her eyes had changed.

She never answered the question.

Days went by and you could tell that something had painfully shifted between the two of you.

You tried to take it back, make her forget with some rough nights, just like she used to like it, but nothing worked.

Miranda wasn’t the same.

And then, one morning she was simply gone, without a single explanation. 

After twelve days of waiting, you made peace with yourself that Miranda wouldn’t be coming back.

You started to hate everything you loved so quickly that even going out in the streets and hearing all those people talking Scottish made you sick, so taking the next decision wasn’t too hard, after all: you told Cecilia to mind the tabby cat Miranda pulled out a stray dog’s jaws and brought home for you to heal, vacated the apartment hotfoot and accepted the job as head manager of the hotel subsidiary in Rome, Italy.

 After a few weeks, you realized the change was exactly what you needed: Rome was amazing, you like the people and, most of all, the food. You even decided to join a gym so you could keep eating the delicious meals the hotel chef cooked for the staff and when the weather was good, you went for a run, early in the morning, enjoying the sight of the city lazily waking up. Late in the night, before going to bed, you would flick your tear-drop-shaped dagger and put it in the top drawer in the nightstand, only to wear it the next day, because now you felt naked without its cold blade pressing against your leg. You dropped the habit of wearing it on your thigh - it wasn’t practical with your work attire - but strapped to your calf or pocketed inside your boot. You hated yourself for it, but it couldn’t be helped. You tried to convince yourself it was just in case you had to defend yourself - it was sensible since you had to walk by yourself most of the time.

All things considered, you fit in well.

Your apartment is good, with a nice view on the Tevere, the pay is almost double the one in Glasgow and you can allow yourself some treats, from time to time, whenever you feel too blue to stay in the apartment by yourself.

You contemplated the idea of getting a pet for a time, but you decided against it since that too would awaken sour thoughts.

You tried to date for a while, but nobody was enough.

Nobody compared to her.

Despite everything Miranda did to you, her memory was latched to your brain like a plague.

It still is.

Sometimes, only some heavy drinking can get her out of your head.

 You weren’t on duty tonight, and while you’re coming back from a peaceful stroll, your colleague calls: there has been a great fuss in the hotel; he tells you about ambulances and police cars hurrying with the sirens blaring to arrest some psycho that attacked a woman in her room. A guy was shot, but you don’t register much about the events, nor do you ask for further information, eager to drop the argument and avoid some unpleasant memories rising in your mind. Guns, people attacking other people, blood… It’s all in the past.

Hurrying up the stairs and fishing in your purse for the keys, you barely notice that the door lock is slightly scratched.

You don’t pay attention to it, nor the way your key slides inside the hole, until you step inside your home, pawing at the switch, and the light doesn’t work.

Immediately, all your senses turn on, your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, your ears eager to capture the smallest sound.

It’s the hair on the back of your neck that puts you in alarm. Rising for an imperceptible breath of wind, they notify of the imminent danger.

The next thing you feel is a strong arm wrapped around your throat, and a warm body pressed against your back.

The attacker clearly knows what they’re doing, but you do too.

Everything she taught you is stuck in your brain, branded on your bones.

In a flash, you lift your dominant leg just enough to grab the knife.

You plunge it into your attacker’s thigh without hesitation.

She - it’s a she - grunts in anger.

The hold of her elbow softens, her arm slides from your neck, her body moves abruptly from yours as she limps away, leaving you alone and scared, but in complete control of yourself.

“My, my. I am getting sloppy.” The voice sends chills down your spine. It’s warm, it’s smug, almost amused, and familiar. Terribly familiar.

Your heart, despite yourself, throbs painfully.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes from your lips.

“Good.” She says, “very good, m’eudail.”

Whatever doubt you might’ve had, now it’s completely gone. It’s not your mind playing tricks, associating a familiar event with a lost person, this is happening for real. Running away from England to another country, taking a new name, a new identity, rebuilding your life almost from zero has served you nothing: she still has found you.

“Miranda?”

Three years.

Three years you haven’t heard from this woman.

Three years you’ve tried to push it out of your head.

Three years of pretending it was just a nightmare.

Three years and she’s back as if it’s nothing, standing in your apartment like she owns the place. She does, in a way. Miranda still owns you, in the first place, whether you like it or not: it’s not your choice to make. Until Miranda decides to let you go, you’re hers. It’s inevitable. And you know, you feel it in your guts, that Miranda will never let you go.

Some exchange rings, some jump over an old broom; your ‘until death do us part’ was a carving in the shape of an M - not on wood or marble, but on flesh - and you wonder how could she be so scared of marriage in the first place if she, too, has made a promise for life.

She comes into the light pouring in from the windows: it’s sunset, and the streetlight has just been lightened up.

Like it’s no big deal, you watch her bend down and wrap her fingers around the handle of the knife and, with a quick motion, she pulls it out from her wounded flesh with minimum bleeding.

With a wince, you notice that her trousers are already stained with dried blood, mixing with the fresh one.

She straightens her back and bares her teeth into a crooked smile, her split lip glistening with droplets of crimson. It looks painful. She doesn’t seem to mind one bit. Her cheekbone is blooming with blue and purple, her throat bears a sore line around. Miranda wears her bruises as if it was makeup, proud and confident. And, oh, so beautiful like the night before she left.

You can’t help but feel concerned, which only adds to your frustration: you shouldn’t care about her, you shouldn’t feel so strongly about the blood running down her chin - she probably deserves it, and more - but you do care.

You watch her, powerless, as she stumbles toward the couch and lets herself fall unceremoniously on top of it, grunting as her bruised body slackens against the soft pillows. Her shirt is stained as well, her knuckles scraped.

“You’re beaten up.” You dumbly point out.

She lets out a dark chuckle and lolls her head back. Your eyes are drawn to the rhythmic movements of her throat as she swallows. You can almost taste the iron inside your own mouth - how many times she’s kissed you after a training session, how many times your sweat mingled with hers when you wondered if you were fighting or fucking.

It all felt so long ago and, still, it hurt like it was yesterday.

“Tried my best, but you can’t expect the featherweight to win against the heavyweight without a significantly favorable weapon. He was just a bigger psycho than me: came out on top, in the end.” Miranda murmurs, a smug expression deforming her features. “Victor, on the other hand-”

The name has your head spinning. His ugly mouse-face comes to visit on the blurry surface of your mirror every time you shower, the rough lines crossing your back are a distant yet a painful reminder of those days of imprisonment, confined in that small room with Miranda, uncovering her past, her job, her boss and his despicable ways. Those marks hurt, but not as much as it hurts the one on your left shoulder - not until now.

“You’ve gone back to work for him?”

After all you’ve been through, after all the pain he inflicted, after she promised to have him killed because he took it out on you, Miranda decided to still work with him. Betrayal didn’t even compare to what you felt.

How many things can change in three years? You lived a lifetime in two months, since Miranda kidnapped you. Three years, right now, are an eternity.

Miranda’s smile drops. Her blue eyes wander aimlessly around the room, stopping in a dark corner. They aren’t focused, but it’s easy for you to see the regret blaring in her lost gaze.

“It was what I am,” Miranda murmurs, her voice emotionless, “it was the only thing I knew.”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you. It feels like forever before you move your first step toward the couch, your gaze fixed on her as if you were trying to control a snake about to snap its vicious attack.

You know Miranda won’t move, not to attack you anyway, but you’re cautious when you speak.

“You’re talking in the past tense.”

“He’s dead now.” Miranda breathes out heavily. Her voice almost overlaps yours, as if she’s completely zoned out, not listening at all, unaware of her surroundings, as impossible as it seems. “I killed him, gave him what he deserved.”

The sheepish look she gives you is the sparkle that lits your flame. It doesn’t matter if Victor is dead now, the memories still haunt your dreams, and Miranda has gone back to work for him.

You feel cheated on, betrayed, and you still don’t know what she wants from you. Frustration builds up from within until you feel like exploding.

You would smack her and shake her by her shoulders if she wasn’t so bruised - and if she’d let you, of course, before succumbing to her strong arms and be stopped by force.

“Miranda, why are you here?” You would ask her to leave, tell her you can’t stand her sight… if only that was true. Angered beyond words by her persistent silence, you walk to her with heavy steps, until you’re in front of her, for the first time, towering her small figure on the couch. She looks frail, harmless, submissive, but you know she’s not any of those things. “Miranda-”

“Shut up.”

You don’t know how she’s managed that - if she’s pulled you down by the collar of your shirt, or hooked her fingers in your belt, or even hit the back of your knees with her foot - but you’re falling right onto her, like the controlled destruction of a building, collapsing right where the demolition expert planned. You try to catch yourself with one hand on either side of her head, fingers clawing the soft pad of the back cushion, even if it’s not necessary: of course, Miranda has caught you first.

Although ‘catch’ is not entirely correct. Her greedy fingers are grabbing your head, pulling more than supporting, and before you can realize what’s happening, her lips are on your mouth.

Oh, God, how much you missed her.

It’s not a nostalgic kiss, she’s not asking for forgiveness or awakening long-lost memories. Her lips are urgent, almost aggressive.

It’s like those three years never went by, as if a lot of things never happened: this one isn’t Miranda, but the mysterious woman who kidnapped you in the alley; she’s back to that unhinged creature that tortured you in the most pleasant ways, who turned a cage into paradoxical heaven where wrong was right and the pain was pleasure.

Too easily you fall back into the addicting spiral that bound you to her. You’re completely at her mercy, once again, with no power nor will to pull yourself out of it. Despite everything, you want more of her kisses, you want more of her touches, you want more of her, no matter if she’s rough or brutal - something of Miranda is still better than nothing.

Hungry hands travel fast from your face to your neck and, for a moment, you prepare to hold your breath thinking she will wrap her fingers around your throat to have you squirm in her lap, desperate for air, just to assert her total control, but you’re wrong. Miranda doesn’t stop: she paws possessively at your breasts, teasing your nipples through the coarse fabric - you hate a little how your body seems to react regardless of your mind, answering to her touch in all the right ways.

You always take minutes to remove your uniform, Miranda hasn’t taken more than one to leave you in your undergarments, confused and wondering if you were actually wearing something before she claimed ownership over you and your body, like always, like she was entitled since the beginning.

Her mouth travels fast, in tow, she nibbles and lavishes, sending electric sparks to your core.

You don’t dare speak, afraid that the spell will break, that you’ll wake up from a dream even though you don’t remember falling asleep, even if it feels real, so real, almost too real that you can’t bring yourself to renounce it.

The tip of her nose tickles the valley of your breasts when she kisses her way down your stomach and belly, her nails scratch dully at the small of your back, pulling your knickers down in one move.

You’ve never noticed how chill your apartment can be. Or maybe you’ve never been so hot before, within these walls.

Her mouth knows exactly where to tease you, her tongue touches all the right places and only in the right ways. Her body remembers everything, and at the same time, it feels new. She tastes you, pursuing the depths of you, almost as if she wants to drown right there and then.

Bare and vulnerable, you don’t even perceive the typical powering position on top of her; Miranda is always on top, also when she’s not.

You can only arch over her as she draws a hurried orgasm out of you, leaving you raw and trembling, your mind spiraling from contentment, nostalgia, and a deep sense of guilt and then back again, when her tongue doesn’t stop until she isn’t satisfied with a second climax, and a third.

It’s easy to lose count when Miranda is having her way. It’s easy to get lost and losing track of time and of yourself, it’s easy to set aside everything to chase her with your hips, desperate for everything and in everything.

She doesn’t allow you to catch your breath when she’s done. You barely catch a glimpse of her when she pulls away, working her jaw to relieve the soreness that has surely set in her muscles, but her eyes are elusive, disappointing you when you hoped to look at her and find the woman you know.

It’s just another confirmation that she is still somewhere else, at least in spirit.

You’ve learned to know her strength, despite her petite size, and yet you can’t prevent the surprised gasp that escapes your mouth when she pushes you off of her and into the couch on your front, so fast that you gape at the pillow below.

You struggle to adjust your head and tilt it to the side when you feel her climb on your thighs, her ripped legs grabbing yours with vicious force when she lowers herself, and despite being fully clothed, you can feel the heat from her core right below your bottom, where she sits.

You swallow in anticipation, shiver when her nails rake at your skin, and then, then everything stops. She pauses.

You feel all the tension leave the room like the fog lifting from the streets.

Her legs are looser when she shifts lower on your thighs, her hands are softer when she glides her fingers up the small of your back and they linger, for a moment too long, across your shoulder blades.

You want to say something, even say her name again, listen to your own voice calling Miranda while still striving to breathe, wearied by the pleasure her skilled tongue has brought you. But as soon as you take a small breath to speak, a startling weight on your back knocks the air out of your lungs.

You take a moment to comprehend that Miranda has leaned on the top of you, her chest rises and falls rhythmically against your back, her breath tickles your left shoulder and you blink at the fact that her cheek is probably resting on her carved initial, and not just by chance.

You mentally count three seconds in, three seconds out. Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Had to find you.”

It’s a murmur, barely a whisper, so small you even doubt you heard it for real or just in your head.

“What?”

You try to squirm from below, eager to watch her face, read in her eyes if she’s making fun of you in the cruelest of ways or not. Her voice has tricked you on many occasions… or not. Maybe it was her eyes. Maybe it’s better for both of you if you can’t cage into each other’s eyes.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relax your muscles, stop your hands from scrambling in the purchase of a steady surface to push yourself up and Miranda off of you.

It’s better this way: she won’t talk, otherwise.

“Thought I could do it.” She sighs, her lips move on your skin, leaving a moist halo around her lips. “Thing is… that I could.”

“You’re talking about-”

“Glasgow.” She snaps. You feel her clenching her jaw tight. “When we lived together.”

“You’re scared that you could live normally?”

Silence.

“You don’t understand.” She huffs. “People like me can’t usually walk away whenever they please and forget about their pasts.”

“But you did.” You retort. “We were fine.”

Miranda chuckles. It’s a bittersweet one, and it ends quickly.

 “I was doing fine before you came.” She clarifies. It clarifies nothing, but you don’t dare to interrupt, fearing she’ll just walk away for good. “There’s a reason why so many have failed. No one was able to ruin me while I ruined them. No one was you.”

You can breathe easily now that Miranda has rolled off of you.

You turn to your side quickly, eager to follow her with your eyes and make sure she won’t take the door and never come back after such a declaration. Rare have been the times you’ve heard Miranda talk in such ways and you can only imagine what is the prelude for: something fatally bad, or something impossibly good.

In the forced darkness of your apartment, the blue of her eyes glows at the dim reflection of the streetlights.

Her voice echoes in your head.

When you initiate the kiss you’re surprised she doesn’t pull back. She doesn’t even complain. She doesn’t grab your face or the back of your neck, she doesn’t claim the lead.

It’s startling, and it’s a foreign sensation you’re not used to, at all.

You barely register the soft rustle of fabric as you chase her taste and mingle it with yours.

And then finally you feel her hands on yours, her slender fingers reaching for yours and sliding almost perfectly in between, like pieces of a puzzle.

She swallows your breathy moan.

You haven’t expected your hands to be drawn closer to the warmth of her body. She lets her fingers move to your wrists, she lets them loop around the protruding bone there - she doesn’t squeeze, she doesn’t pull nor push - leaving your pads free to roam over her stomach, through the small crack of her shirt, gliding over the taut skin of her abdomen. You feel new bumps, new scars perhaps.

She squirms when you push a little too hard against her hip bone.

Or, maybe, she doesn’t exactly squirm.

You feel her adjust, raising her pelvis off the couch, but not to ease discomfort.

Your fingertips slip easily beyond the band of her high-waist trousers.

Miranda doesn’t move.

She’s even stopped the kiss, letting you decide.

It’s an open invitation - a request, perhaps - to touch her, properly, like you’ve been asking, for weeks, silently, before you decided to voice your thoughts and your feelings. 

Everything went downhill from there.

Your breath catches, the long-awaited moment feeling so terrifying, now, that you can’t bring yourself to just stop thinking and follow your guts, your innermost desires, to claim what has been denied to you for so long.

Miranda wouldn’t have hesitated. She didn’t hesitate to take when she wanted and could.

Thing is, you’re not her.

You pull away from her in a blink, your fingers tingle with unsatisfied electricity when you hide your face in your hands.

“Miranda.” You growl. Your voice comes out muffled from behind your palms. You’d want to yell at her, berate her, but it only comes out desperate, you sound on the verge of crying. Maybe you are. “What are you doing?”

Her hands are touching your wrists again. She’s gentle. More than she’s ever been. She forces you to unpeel your hands from your face.

In the dim light from the streetlights, her eyes shine again. They seem full of unshed tears, but you don’t want to fool yourself with dull illusions that don’t belong, with every possibility, to either of you.

Miranda doesn’t talk. You know it, you can see it, there’s a whole universe of things she’s dying to say, and still… she doesn’t speak.

You let out a shaky breath, sit lower on her legs, your gazes locked.

“Miranda, what’s your point?” You try again, softer this time.

She opens her mouth to speak then, only to close it soon after with a frustrated sigh.

You can’t endure more of it. You’re too spent to keep playing.

Miranda speaks only when you push yourself off of her, trying to stand up.

“My point is- I’m done.” She huffs out a disbelieving chuckle as if it’s the first time she’s told that, to herself even; the first time she’s truly grasped the idea and made it final. “I’ve got tons of money now and I can leave it all behind.”

“Miranda-”

“We can leave it all behind.” She corrects. One of her hands slithers to the small of your back, pushing you down to keep you near. It’s confident but for the first time, somehow, it’s not possessive. “Start over, for real.”

You swallow a mouthful of sand. Your head is spinning. You even wonder if something has possessed Miranda’s body and has turned her into some normal person who is actually repentant and is willing to start over.

How much can a person change in three years? Does it also apply to Miranda? The rules of mortals apply to such mysterious creatures like her?

You’re about to ask for a moment when you hear a distinct mew.

“What the fuck-” You startle, snapping your head toward the kitchen. It’s hard to see, but there’s definitely something on the counter. A box, maybe a crate. With something furry poking out. “You brought the cat?!”

Miranda’s lips are crooked into a sheepish smile when you look back at her.

“Please?” She whispers. Her voice is velvety against your lips, so close you could answer with a kiss. “What do you say?”

Maybe you will answer with a kiss.

Maybe.

#miranda croft x reader #miranda croft #tfa #the flight attendant #fanfiction #reader insert #ao3 #archive of our own #bonus chapter #complete #four lines #hidden scars #old wounds #michelle gomez

[calmspirited]

hi

been a long time I've been here. a lot has happened. ill detail a bit what has happened in my life under a read more, but for those who don't have time -

tl;dr - lots of personal changes, ups and downs, moving away from dbd in general and dbd rp, may, *may* try fortnite rp, no promises, i'm going to leave my blog and sideblogs and start over with a new blog when i make it

this is super duper long under here. long and rambling and chock full of improper grammar

hello! i guess my departure from here started when the great porn ban hit tumblr. just really didn't vibe with their decision and stepped away for a while. during that time, I realized that it felt really nice not having to worry about rp'ing with everyone (and you all were wonderful!) and that in general, it felt like a job that i wasn't happy doing anymore. i realized dbd rp had become... tiring for me.

it was so long ago - over 2 years ago! I do remember getting a part-time job round that time, so that was another reason why I never really returned. biggest thing was my mother got sick around this time 2 years ago. she never got better and passed away in June of 2020. we really thought she just had a cold she couldn't get over and bad arthritis pains, but suddenly her health absolutely tanked and just 2 weeks after going into the hospital for the first time, she was gone. turned out, she had had insidious caner for years and never knew it, but even besides that, all of her health issues had suddenly magnified tenfold and it was too much.

my mother was a very important figure in my life, and her death was very unexpected and sudden and traumatizing. I remember being scared and anxious to go into "her" parts of our home for months. back then, I had briefly thought about coming back here - I was giving tumblr another chance - but when she got sick that got thrown out the window. i really didn't think about tumblr for months after her untimely death.

but her death led to the start of a lot of changes. she had been needing some home care for several years that I had done myself, and suddenly I found myself with a lot of free time and new opportunities. i signed up for full-time community college, and at the end of this year I hope to have an Associates in Business Administration, along with several management, accounting, and bookkeeping certificates. I got my first car in August of last year, and that has led me to get 2 part-time jobs and be semi-financially independent! that has always been a big goal of mine. im super glad to have these jobss since my eldest sister, who i live with and who supports me financially, had some serious heath issues of her own this past christmas and was out of work for almost a month, and i had to help with the bills.

since may of last year, i slowly started developing health issues. im not going to get too personal, but ive developed hormone, painful skin and auto-immune issues that has made me feel not too hot these past few months. im just starting to see the light at the end of that tunnel, and i'm looking to begin working with a specialist who can help me identify what is triggering my issues (it seems to be centered around food-they're thinking I have some sort of broad food sensitivity). its a slow process, but im beginning to have times where i feel... good. great, even. it's the start of a long journey for me.

While I still play DBD on occasion, i no longer support the game as much as I used to. ever since the pinhead nft debacle, ive lost all faith in the higher ups of BHVR and have come to realized just how scuffed and uncared for the game is. For the first few years, while the game was bad, you could tell while they were confused, they had the spirit and passion to at least try and make the game good. over time, it's clear they don't intend on strengthing the game to its full potential and are using it to make money.

(dont get me wrong, i love the aestheics and visual aspect of dbd - its the higher ups that have made it this way)

the pinhead nft episode was really it for me in concerns of loving dbd. i no longer support the game financially and can't really love a game whose developers blatantly mislead people and do not disclose the info that the purchases of one of their character will fund nfts until it is just too late to ask for a refund. trust me, that was on purpose. that was super scummy and really speaks volumnes about their goals. the only people i blame for that is the people up high enough to make these decisions, because i know several art designers at BHVR who worked on pinhead were shocked and dissapointed that their work was used for nfts.

I actually couldn't play dbd after they did a big graphical update sometime in late 2019 on my laptop, and i ended up trying out a few other games with a couple of friends. I somehow ended up getting into Fortnite summer of 2020. this also relates a bit to my mothers death, due to the fact that when she died, i had more free time at home to play games with others. I started playing loosely in Chapter 2, Season 3, and really remember being hooked by the end of the season into Season 4. While it was a silly, cartoon style battle royale game, I just ended up really vibing with it.

I've met a lot of new friends in fortnite, and have honestly had a lot more fun with Fortnite than I had with DBD. I finally got myself a real beefy PC this past December and have only played DBD a handful of times on my own. took me a long time to re-install it, too. say what you want about fortnite and it's average 12 year old playerbase (there are SO many of them its unreal) - theres real passion and good quality lore and events behind it the game's surface. it drew me in.

fast foward to now. I've started hanging around tumblr more these last few weeks and months and have thought about coming back... just not to dbd. dbd is not "it" for me anymore. it has lost its appeal, its fun, its passion. i have seriously considered picking up fortnite rp - if there is an actual serious fortnite rp community lol, haven't looked (is there even actual rp going on in tumblr anymore?). either way, if I do start rp'ing again, it will be in fortnite more than likely.

I have not only this blog, but several different rp blogs attached to this account. I'll reblog this post there soon and also the link where I will be making my new blog, wherever and whatever it may be. (note: this text editing is super cool)

I do intend on one day logging out of this account and then eventually never logging back in. That day will be one day, but not today. Before I log out of this completely, I will make a new blog and post the link where I will be. while i may find my old rp stuff semi-cringe, i know people did somehow enjoy my writing and I will NOT be deleting my account. Ever. I hate it when people do that.

I want to thank everyone for supporting me throughout the years, even if we were once friends and no longer are or have not spoken in years. I'm bad with keeping up with people once I drop from a social circle. my life has been a crazy journey these past years and it has all contributed to who I am today, which is someone I'm proud of. a lot of stuff has happened, and it is time I begin anew and wrap up this final part of my life that has been dragging its feet behind me.

if you have taken the time to read this, thank you. truly. to those who have followed me but have never interacted, take this as a hello and a thank you. even if no one interacts with this post, im glad to have gotten it off my chest. its been on my mind for a long time to move on.

I will make a new post when I make a new blog, and share the new link. I will also update my contacts soon (will make a note on the contacts page that it is up-to-date). As for my writing blog, I'm not quite sure what I will do with that. I actually have dreams to become an actual author, but whether I remake it, transfer it to a new site, or leave it altogether, I will announce it here and over there.

if anyone from... here, i guess, wants to get in contact, do not be afraid to message me. just keep in mind after i post the link for my new blog, you will have to message me over there as I will pack up shop completely. I probably will not remember who you are at all, but I do enjoy talking to people. I don't know when I will be making the new blog, but it will probably be within a month or so.

so... once again, thank you. while I was here, I had fun. but now, it is time to smoove on.

~Catch you on the flipside,

Jek

#fortnite #{ higher forces } mun #im so happy tags have autofill lol #but yeah!!! i do be moving on #my life changed so much here #but it is time to go to the next chapter #fortnite haha #dont know it til you try it. but definately watch out for the 12 year olds #theyre vicious #dbd #you never know #see y'all soon!

[thisdreamplace]

ashamed to say the 3D reflects our true inner reality, yes? my ENTIRE family has turned against me, after some atrocious conflicts in which they all ganged up on me nd judged me, name-calling, very hurtful things too, provoked me. i been dealing with some serious mental uh 'issues' on my own nd when this happend i was already on the verge of a breakdown nd the good news is while the conflict happened i kept telling myself theyre only reflecting me u can get thru it etc. Later i looked at the hard facts nd realised some of the hurtful things they said were my deep secret feelings abt myself. BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people? confronting one person vs whole family, why?! i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?

Part 2 is simply its been a week and theyve still been cold towards me as if I yelled AT THEM ABT THEIR PAINFUL 'tRuThS' in front of EVERYONE LMAOOO. At first if i was around we'd have dinner together while they'd all talk to each other like best friends aka sickeningly overly friendly while completely IGNORING me while i sat there. i could tolerate it. I WAS PISSED AT THEM TOO Now its too painful. They're having dinner without telling me, yesterday didnt leave enough food for me knowing i hadnt eaten, serve tea/snacks without my portion. i honestly feel so unspeakably trigered nd sad. worst is these things r reminding me of deep school memories when id feel excluded like this by other kids at parties or class activities nd its like im back there. anyway im glad i controled myself a bit nd didnt counter with horrid things abt them to THEM yet they think they can say the same to me. im so hurt rn i cant even tell u lol i was okay the whole week but now its too much,, ive been crying the whole day

thing is, ik this seems like 'im a victim oh noooo they ganged up on meee'. Nope its more like how do i change myself to change them?! u could say why not talk to them how they made u feel, except whenever ive defended myself in the past regarding hurtful things they/anyone in family did, the siblings/parents would say irritating things like: "oh so YOU'RE the one hurt? Oh thats right, its because YOU'RE right! yes, yes, you're always right. Forgive me for saying anything against the perfect person u are." Or one of them says: "You?! I hurt YOU? What about me? You don't care about me! So you think what ur doing is okay?" or "no, who do YOU think u are to tell ME what to do?" it just goes in circles like this! i dont deserve to hurt myself or do smth to myself even if they dont give a damn, even if years of silent suffering of the 'mEntAL pRoBlEms' (which my lovely parents have already told me is my fault years ago, hence why I NEVER show it to them, unless im crying too much then lol they just mock me, but idc abt THAT bcoz now ik i hav a right to let out my emotions)). i mean this is worse rjan usual. its kinda insane nd when guests come they start talking to me as if nothing's wrong then when they leave, they ignore me!

this whole twisted dynamics, feelijf left out nd helpless is ig some crazy assumptin from childhood of being alone nd unable to defend myself. plus when they argye with anyone, they become overly self-righteous nd over the years its clear they can only scream, blame the scapegoat and never talk abt serious matter like normal ppl. And yes, in the past when i bring this up, they like to reply with stuff like: "no YOU'RE the one who doesnt talk to US bla bla" like, when i do u just shut me down? have belittled my mental 'issues', mocked me when im at my worst, stabbed me with cruel silent treatments nd thinking its alright "bcoz of self-righteousness blegh". Or maybe i think its okay for them to punish me? or whatev? Like law says u get what u r. if these ~~~ keep doing this to me, im doubly ashamed to say this means im the one at fault?! i let this monster assunptin grow nd now idk what to do. the worst thing imo is how i failed to tell them,even if they ignored me in the past, how i feel when anything like this or a conflict happens nd none of them stand up for me, or at least are neutral to me. bcoz now if i do, they say nope, u dont care what we do, YOUR the shameless one :! so yeah they hav the advantage of 'numbwrs' while im too afraid to stand up for myself lol. btw they never apologize nd i suspect they expect ME to apologize to TYEM bcoz everything's already ruined bcoz of 'me'..... i give up on them, i really do, but my heart hurts. Either i harden my heart, nd save up to move out, OR i try to change my self or whatev assumptins i have. But how do i do that? i try afirming: "my familys so nice to me, im respected by them" but it feels so fake tears literally enter my eyes lol

firstly i want to say, thank you for coming here to vent and being open about your feelings. it’s so important sometimes to just let it all out, without holding back. so that way you can move forward more bravely, to create the life you truly want to experience. that being said, i am going to be completely honest with you here in hopes that perhaps it may inspire you and you will be ready to do what is needed for the life you truly want to experience.

“BUT my question is why the HELL cant they talk to me like normal people?” -> “i felt so small nd like an object, nd not a single person defended me. am i not a part of the family?” here is your question, and here is your answer. i think that being completely honest when venting your feelings can actually be so helpful, because if you read back what you have said, you will be able to clearly find the patterns that are creating your personal hell. FEELING IS THE SECRET. ASSUMPTIONS HARDEN INTO FACT. the true way you feel, becomes your experience. Feelings/assumptions/beliefs come first, and the experiences come second to confirm them. That’s all that’s happening here.

i am glad that you were able to keep your reactions to a minimum! that's wonderful and as many of us know, it can sometimes be hard to do in such hurtful circumstances. but you managed to do it, this shows just a small glimpse of the power you truly hold within. although emotionally you may feel out of control, there is still the choice to choose better for yourself which you demonstrated through your reaction to them. good for you!

the truth is, you acknowledge the victim mindset to seem like you’re not engulfed in it, but no, you’re still very clearly engulfed in it. as i have said before, you can’t be a VICTOR and feel bad about it. feeling bad about taking responsibility, about everyone is you pushed out, about any of these types of concepts automatically shows a victim mindset. talking to them won’t do anything, because there are no second causes. you could talk to them nicely, you could be the nicest person in the world. but you can’t pretend your way out of your inner world. your inner world is the one and only cause of your experiences. until you change the story you tell yourself, they will stay the same. this is a hard pill to swallow sometimes. and it can feel heavily, because it’s ultimately only you’re choice. they can’t change until you do. the heaviness of the situation may make it seem impossible to turn around, but that’s just an illusion. your emotional attachment to the situation makes it seem so real and hard to change, but no. that’s just an illusion too. however, it’s ultimately your choice. Do you want to take responsibility for your life, or do you want to keep being tossed around like your lost at sea, victim to the merciless angry waves? Because we always have a choice. No one chooses your inner world, you do. No one can go into your mind and decide things for you, that’s only your job.

you can harden your heart, but who would be the one who suffers more? It won’t be your family, i can assure you. it’ll only be you. by doing that, you keep that old story alive and therefore you keep experiencing it. you keep those stories alive that are desperately showing themselves to you, saying “LET US GO.” but you remain identified with those painful stories, so you grip onto them tight. you keep on thinking of possible reasons for their behavior, but you could just read your entire ask back to yourself and you’ll see every reason. your reactions, your beliefs about them, your emotional pain. its your refusal to let those things go, and focus on what you truly want that keeps you in this state and keeps them in this state. sure it’s painful to face the responsibility at first, but it’s not a blame game. thinking its about blame is just a misunderstanding of the teachings. it’s not about they’re so perfect and you’re so not, so you have to change your ways. it’s about this is how life works here. this is about... you can ONLY ever experience self. whatever is going on within, will be reflected in your outer world. it’s about how they can’t change, UNTIL YOU DO. so instead of feeling sorry for yourself, you have to decide to give yourself the gift of a wonderful life because you have that power too. you stop deciding they can be in control of your experience, and you decide your experience yourself.

to change your assumptions, stop trying to affirm over them and actually face what’s keeping you from believing in your desires. yeah, it’s going to be painful and uncomfortable. but you need to face the pain that you’re running away from, so that it can finally be released. you have to realize, it only stayed true because you believed it to be true. and if you are to live a life free from that story, and experience a more desirable story, then you must let the pain go. give yourself love and grace as you work through it, and know that there is a more beautiful side of life that awaits for you to accept it in.

No One To Change But Self

There is Nothing to Forgive

How to Sit with Your Triggers

give yourself the time you need, it's not race. the love that you wish to experience exists, allow it in. 💖

#eiypo

[violetnotez]

Omg I know anon poor baby is always getting hurt! 🥺 I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it!

Genre: Fluff, PG

Word Count: 2951

Warnings: none!

Summary: Izuku expects to find himself with Recovery Girl after he gets hurts in training yet again. How surprised he is to find it’s actually you who gets to take care of his wounds.

Prompt: #2, “You wanna get out of here?” for the @bnhabookclub Provisional Licensing Event!

(Here’s the link)

Izuku’s leg jumped as he waited impatiently in the sterile white room. 

This was now the 3rd time he was in the nursing office this week alone, and it was beginning to exasperate him how easily his body could get damaged in simple training.

He had to work to be harder. Faster. Stronger.

And he couldn’t do that without getting a little torn up and beaten up-it’s the fact he didn’t know when to stop that was the trouble.

Recovery Girl had told him that multiple times since he had became a regular visitor in her office, even threatening to speak to Aizawa-Sensei and revoke some of his training hours. 

That was the very last thing Izuku ever wanted to happen: he had to train. But he laso had to put everything into it: if he didn’t, how wouldnt ever get better.

Izuku heard a door inside the office open, looking up to meet Recovery Girl with a sheepish grin. 

But to his surprise, it wasn’t Recovery Girl-it was a student. 

They didn’t seem to notice him at first as they began to rummage in filing cabinets, their fingers nimbly searching through the organized folders.

Izuku stared with reddened cheeks-they were pretty cute.

But where was Recovery Girl? Maybe they were her assistant, but no, he was in the nurses office so much he would have known-

“Um, excuse me? Are you injured-do you need help?” The attractive person asked, their eyes looking down at him. They were right in front of him now, staring at him with an amused smirk as he thought out loud.

Izuku yelped, realizing a moment too late that he was mumbling again. His whole face became enveloped in red, his freckles much more prominent as he looked up.

“No-actually, um-yes, yes, I am hurt, just not badly,its really just a scratch -“ he was rambling again, instantly stopping as he realized how silly he sounded. His cheeks were on fire, and he was feeling so sheepish and dumb. Why couldn’t he form a single sentence correctly? This person was just too attractive, he couldn’t think straight-

He was surprised to here the person chuckle, their body bending down to be at eye level with him.

“Why am I not surprised Izuku Midoriya is in the nurses office again?” You grinned at his clearly shocked face, his green eyes wide with bewildernment.

“How-how do you know my name?” He asked, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

You smiled at the nervous boy, your eyes drinking in his face-he was pretty attractive, his cheeks dusted with pink and his freckles scattered around his face like stars. His eyes were a pretty shade of forest green, his messy hair matching it perfectly.

You knew you should be checking for his vitals and any obvious injuries that were life threatening, thats what you’ve been taught after all-but if he had enough blood to blush that hard a few moments ago, he was more than likely fine.

“Well, your practically a honorary resident in the office at this point” you smiled playfully.

You remember him? That made Izuku’s heart soar, knowing somebody as cute as you could actually recall who he was.

Izuku felt a twinge of guilt though, because if you had seen him so many other times, why was this his first time seeing you?

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, really,” he stuttered out, “but I don’t-seem to remember you-“

“Oh, don’t feel bad!” You comforted him, “Ive only just started interning with Recovery GIrl these past two weeks,”

“My name’s y/n.” you gave him a warm smile, making Izuku’s insides feel fuzzy.

You began to rummage in the cabinet on the wall, pulling out a small first aid- kit.

“You just happen to hear alot of things once your around teachers more,” you answered his question happily, opening the kit on the bed Izuku was sitting on.

“Like-like what?” he was a little concerned by that- were the teachers in some way talking negatively about him?

You noticed the way his expression changed to worry, giving him a calm smile.

“Its nothing bad, dont worry,” you reassured him, “Recovery Girl actually has quite a soft side for you- its just shes worried about how hard you work yourself.

“You definitely have a reputation for getting yourself pretty banged up, dont’cha?” you giggled at the way Izuku gave you such a guilty, sheepish grin as he fidgeted with his scarred hands.

He chuckled along with you, “More a less- I guess…”

He watched you pull out items from the white box:soft gauze, a vile of clear liquid, fluffy cotton balls, brand new bandages-

“If you dont mind me asking- is Recovery Girl not here today?” he asked

“Nope! Shes on break right now,” you explained, pulling a chair from under the bed he was sitting on, “so you got me for today,”

You scouted the chair in close, so you were practically in between Izuku’s legs and looking right up at him. He felt his body heat up from the sudden closeness-you seemed so calm, collected, and in control, while he was feeling like nervous wreck from how close you were..

“So, you injured your side, right? On the left?” you asked, looking at the torn clothing on his abdomen.

He gave you a curt nod, his green curls bouncing slightly.

 You looked up at him suddenly, his breath stopping in his chest.

“Mind if I look?” you asked, your voice sweet like honey.

“Uh, sure go ahead- just, be careful- its pretty, bruised-”

“Oh, dont worry ‘Zuku, Ill be gentle,” you sent the boy a wink, making his head spin.

Wait- were you flirting with him?

He felt your hands gingerly prod against his PE shirt, the fabric practically worthless around his injury. Your hand left a ticklish feeling against his skin, like kisses trailing along the surface. They sent his stomach into a frenzy, making it felt like it was made out of cotton. 

You hand reached lower, towards his 4th rib bone, prodding slightly as you went along. Izuku instinctively hissed in pain as you touched a certain spot- that was the most tender area by far.

 You gave him a worried expression, a quiet sorry spilling out of your lips as you retracted your hand.

You rested your chin against your fingers, your lips pouted out slightly as you sat there deep in thought.

“You definitely got a good injury there-” you concluded, “but Im not too worried about it. A couple bandages and maybe something for the bruising….and you should be good to go!”

Izuku breathed a sigh of relief, being careful to not exhale too much in order to not irritate his wound.

“Thats a relief!”

You looked down, your teeth catching your bottom lip in nervousness by what you were going to say next. You had to heal it, but the only way to do it would need Izuku to get a little bit more comfortable with you.

“But….in order for me to properly heal it-

“Your gonna have to take off your shirt Izuku.”

Izuku could barely breathe now- take off his shirt- in front of you?? 

He could have gotten a cut anywhere- his arm, leg, shoulder- but no, he got it on his stomach. Where you, this pretty nurses assistant, would have to see him close to naked. 

He know he shouldn't be so worried, this was your job after all, you probably seen plenty of have naked students come and go due to injuries- it just felt strange.

“Are-are you sure, I think Ill be fine, you dont have to, its okay Ill just-” he began to ramble, his mouth making word soup as his anxiety kicked in.

“Izuku,” you sighed calmly, “you wanna get out of here, right?”

He nodded numbly, his green eyes full of concern and sheepish from the turn of events.

“Then your gonna have to trust me,” you placed your hand on his knee, leaning into his body softly.

God- you were- so- close.

Izuku felt his face heat up, unable to think properly. How were you so okay with being so close? You seemed so unfazed by being this near him, your voice calm and reassuring. He, on the other hand, was practically shaking from shock and nervousness.

“I wont judge you for anything, I promise,” you gave him a cheeky grin, letting your eyes trail to his torso, “-and I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” 

The boy was always training, non-stop- at least that’s what you heard from the teachers. 

You were practically certain this boy was only made of hardened muscle, watching how is arms ripples with each movement and the built muscle move under your fingertips.

 If he was worried he wasnt in the best physique to be near a girl shirtless, you were quite certain he was sorely mistaken. 

And if giving him some praise was going to make him feel a little comfortable-you would give him as much as he needed.

Izuku shuffled in his seat again, crinkling the thin paper on the bed.

“O-okay then-I trust you,” he said, trying to sound a little more confident, “Do what you have to do.”

“Awesome!” You exclaimed softly. “I have to go get a few more things..:in the mean time, try to take off that shirt, Kay? Be gentle-and don’t be afraid to call me if you need help,”

You gave him a reassuring pat on the knee, rising from your chair to get larger bandages from another cabinet. You turned your back to Midoriya, walking over to another cabinet and rummaging through the boxes until you found the perfect size bandages.

You felt your hands shake slightly, your heart beating feverishly against your chest. 

Why were you nervous? Was his hesitancy rubbing off on you now? You shouldn’t be scared in any way-you were quite accustomed to this, already working on a handful of other students since interning with Recovery Girl. This shouldn’t be a such a nerve-wracking problem-you has seen countless shirtless boys-

But you had never seen Izuku shirtless-and that was a first.

You willed yourself to take a calming breath, trying to coax your stampeding heart to lull to a normal pace. You had to be comfortable for him at least-he was so beet red in the face from worry he practically looked like a he had a fever.

“Hey Midoriya, you doing alright-“ you began as you turned around, trying to sound as cheerful as possible until your eyes feel on Izuku, your breath hitched in your throat.

This boy was built like a god.

His arm muscles gleamed in the fluorescent lights, almost sparkling as they slumped gently with his breaths. His pecks protruded our nicely, and his abdomen was a sight to be seen. Your hands itched to run along his abs, each one perfectly rounded and built. His v-line made you blush as it set deep into his skin, barely pecking out from his pants.

You could now fully see the injury, the only thing that was disrupting the masterpiece that was Izuku’s body. The red Cuts and purple bruises looked shallow as they encased around his 4th and 5th ribs.

“Is it-that bad?” he asked timidly,’his green orbs staring intently at your shocked face.

You shook your head of your stare, your cheeks inflamed-you couldn’t just be so blatantly enraptured by him. You secretly thanked that Izuku was kind of clueless and thought you were freaking out over his wound, because any other person would have known you were really just checking him out.

“Oh no! Your injury is fine,” you gave him a sheepish grin, placing the boxes on his bed.

His injury was easily fixable, and not at all serious- you were just so confused. How could someone so cute and endearing be so HOT.

“You really do train hard, huh, Midoriya?” You gave another glance at his abdomen, making Izuku chuckle nervously.

You pushed the chair you had sit in under the bed, deciding it would be easier to work on him if he was standing.

Oh geez-youd be the death of him-

you were now standing in between his legs, your hands ghosting the skin on his knees as you stared at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

He gave another small chuckle, his hand going up to scratch the back of his neck. The movement didnt react to well with his injury, a sharp pain crawling up his body. He winced, instinctively holding his side as you looked at him with worry.

“Is it alright if I-” your hands went to lightly touch his side, but he moved to block it away from your touch.

He realized his movements might have looked rude to you, his eyes growing wide with worry.

“I-I’m Sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ he began to feverishly apologize, but quickly stopped once he felt you place your hand on his lower thigh.

“It’s fine, Izuku, really, I’d do the same thing to,” you gave him a soft smile, squeezing his thigh gently.

That action made his whole body feel like jello, his mind only focusing on the way your hand was so gentle against his skin.

“Do you still trust me, though?”

“O-of course!” He exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“Alright then-I promise I’ll be as gentle as possible, Kay?” You said softly, your voice so soothing to Izuku it felt like a lullaby in his ears.

He nodded his head, his curls cascading over his eyes slightly as you took your hand off his leg, his eyes watching your every move.

Your fingers gently ran against the bruised skin, making sure to be as soft and gentle as you could with the infliction. 

You didn’t want to cause him any type of unnecessary pain, but sometimes it was necessary to get the job done.

“I-uh-I have to clean your wounds,” you looked up at Izuku, surprised to see how gentle his eyes were as he looked down at you. He seemed to be much calmer, but the way he looked so dazed and in bliss made your heart thump painfully in your chest.

 “It might sting a little, but I promise after that, it won’t hurt any more than it does.”

“That alright, I-I won’t take any offense, your doing what you have to do,” he grinned slightly at you, his freckles like stars against his cheeks.

You returned the sweet gesture, trying to focus back on his wound and not the way  Izuku was making you feel.

 He was so sweet and so adorably awkward, you couldn’t help but feel something towards the boy that was more than just a friendship feeling. He really was different than any other boy you had ever talked to.

You began working on his cuts, sterilizing each one, and making sure they were completely clean so they wouldnt get any type of infection.

Your heart went out for this poor boy-he really was strong. You had always hated this part whenever getting an injury, and he took it like a champ.

He only hissed once, his eyes and nose scrunched up, reminding of you when a bunny sniffs something it didn’t quite like. He body tensed for a split second, his hands curling around the bed. You placed your hand gently on his, making sure that he knew you were still there. You gave him an apologetic expression, his eyes looking down at you delicately, reassuring you that it was alright.

The room was deathly quiet, yet it was comfortable-you focused solely on Izuku, placing an ointment on the open flesh in order to help it heal. You made sure to keep your hands clean in order to not spread any possible infection, walking away to clean your hands at certain times.

Midoriya hated when you left, missing the warmth your body radiated off. It was intoxicating, really-you were so incredibly gentle and sweet with him. Your hands were so soft and light he sometimes couldn’t even feel you working to heal his injury. He was cherishing each moment: the way he could almost feel your heart rate from your wrist against his skin, the way your fingers would brush against the inner side of his arms by accident, sending a tingle to shoot up throughout his body. He loved how your voice was so soothing and tender, and the way you took time to make sure he was comfortable, asking him if this area hurt the most, if he felt the bandages were too tight, if he needed anything for the bruising.... You were so kind and considerate it made his heart soar with how much you cared for him in this moment.

His chest exhaled sadly when you moved away from him for the last time, realizing you had finally fixed him up.

You stared at your handiwork, your hands a little firmer this time as you moved in quickly, wrapping your fingers against the thick bandages.

“Does this feel fine? Do you feel this? Is it too tight?” You asked for what seemed like the uptenth time, making Izuku chucke sweetly.

He really didnt mind all your questions: he found it quite endearing actually.

“Yep! I’m fine, honestly, you don’t have to worry,” he gave a sheepish grin, gently trying to move to get off the bed.

You instantly rushed to help him, your hands gingerly finding a place in the crook of his elbow and his waist, guiding him off the bed.

He smiled up at you, your heart soaring as the freckled boy gave you such a warm look of appreciation.

You fidgeted nervously, sadly letting go of your hands on his body and tucking a hair behind your ear.

“Your free to go if you want Izuku, it was really nice meeting you!” You gave him one last smile, his heart dropping sadly as he smiled back.

“It was really nice meeting you too, it’s-too bad we don’t have any classes together, you seem, well, really nice!” He was practically stuttering again, yet your warm laugh made him feel a little at ease.

“Oh don’t worry about that Izuku, I’m sure you’ll be back in here in no time! I hope you don’t be too beat up then, but I look forward to it,”

“Me-me too”

And with one last smile, he walked out the door, his heart beating feverishly in his chest.

Taggings:

@birds-have-teeth​ @yuueimagines​ @orokayagi​ @leeeah-loooser​ @freckledoriya​

#bnha #bnha x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha izuku x reader #mha izuku x reader #deku x reader #bnha deku x reader #deku #midoriya x reader #midoriya x you #bnha midoriya x reader #bnha izuku midoriya x reader

[marvel--3000]

Mirage (5/???)

Summary: When 2 weird men show up at your job asking questions about you, you run, right into Hydras arms, you have no idea what they did to you in there, the Avengers help you figure it out.

*AU right after civil war, Steve, Bucky, and Tony are friends, and Pietro is still alive.*

A/N: this is my first thing I’ve ever written, soooo, some feedback would be appreciated, Hi I’ve been gone a couple years, and now I’m back, sorry….

I started writing this a long time ago, so the first chapters suck…. sorry

Pairing: Avengers x mutant!Reader

Warnings: some language, torture

Italics indicate that she is thinking to herself

~~~~~~~~~~

You dream of your life in the hydra base, everything is tinted red. You see flashes of faces, good and bad. You see yourself training with another mutant, you knock him to the ground and put him in a headlock. The scene changes, you see yourself strapped to a table, with the Trench Coat British guy smiling over you as you scream. It changes again, you see yourself crying in a ball, in the corner of your cell, trying to keep warm. It changes again, you see the goons kicking you on the floor, after your first escape attempt.

All of these memories scream through your head, until suddenly they come to a stop on one image. The man with the metal arm being shot in the back, because you can't reach him in time. You run to him as he falls. You catch him before he hits the ground, and lower him the rest of the way to the ground. You roll him over to look at his face, but when you roll him over, instead of his face being there, its Mr. British. You scream and try to push him off you, but he grabs you and pulls out a gun, he shoots you in the chest and laughs. You fall backwards, but instead of hitting the floor, you fall through it, into complete darkness. It feels like you fall forever.

You wake up screaming, clutching at the blankets. Your eyes dart around the room, trying to figure out where you are. You see medical equipment, and hear a heart rate monitor beeping next to you. You remember, you're in the Avengers Compound, they saved you from Hydra. You relax into the bed and breath.

<i>What time is it?</i> You think, you look around again, now that you've calmed down. You see a huge window at the end of the room. Outside the window are trees, and a black sky, full of stars.<i> So it's still night, how long was I asleep for?</i> You sit up so you can see out the window better. You see a lake, and some lights below you. <i>So I’m not on the ground floor, it's pretty here, quiet.</i> You look away from the window and down at yourself, and notice that you aren't Natasha anymore, instead you’re a man, with hairy arms.

You gingerly try to spin your legs to the left, to dangle off the bed. It takes some effort, and a lot of pain, but you manage to sit on the edge of the bed. You start to slip off, so your feet touch the floor, then put a little pressure on them. Causing you to whimper in pain, but you push through it, as you've always done. You finally manage to stand on your own two legs, you look down to notice that your legs are hairy too, under the hospital gown. You also notice that there is a IV coming out of your hand, with a tube leading to a saline drip hooked on a metal rod on wheels.

You hold onto the rod for support, and take a step towards the window. But the heart rate monitor hooked to your finder stops you, you quickly pull it off, causing the monitor to have one long beeeeep, then power off. <i>That will probably bite me in the ass later, but I need to see out the window.</i> You slowly make your way to the window, each step a struggle. But you make it to the window, when you look out, you notice the trucks driving below you.

You look up and see the stars, they are beautiful tonight. Your eyes feel odd, so you close them, and rub them with the back of your hand, and when you open them again to look at the stars, suddenly you can see so many many more, you can see the sky as if we didn't have any pollution, or even an atmosphere. You can see the milky way, the whole galaxy. It's the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. Your eyes well up with tears, causing the stars to merge together, and yet, it's no less beautiful. You’re so busy looking up, you don't even notice that somebody else has entered the room.

“It's beautiful here isn't it?” Says a voice behind you. You squeak and whirl around, causing you to almost fall, and be in excruciating pain. The person rushes towards you trying to help, you look with anger in your eyes, ready to fight. But what you find is a concerned Dr. Banner, giving you the most confusing face. Your eyes soften, seeing that there is no immediate threat. You gain your balance, and stand on your own, shrugging off his hands, which you hadn't noticed before.

“It's not nice to scare people when they are zoned out.” You say in a fake scolding voice. But he just keeps looking at you with a weird face. “What's wrong Dr. Banner?”

“Hm? Oh, I'm just not used to walking into a room to find that I'm already in it.” He says with a little smile.

“What?” <i>Is he a little crazy?</i>

“Oh you don't know, you're not Nat anymore, now you're me. It's a little jarring. You can call me Bruce by the way.” He says looking you up and down.

“Oh! Sorry, when I dream I shift, and I must have shifted into you. Sorry.” you say then look at the floor in embarrassment.

“Nothing to be sorry about, but how do you look exactly like me, you even have my birthmark on your knee.” he says with a puzzled look.

“Oh, when I see someone, I can copy their face, their size, and any other characteristic I can see. But in your case, when I touch someone, or they touch me, I can become a perfect duplicate of them, I think it has to do with DNA or something.”

“Oh. But I didn't touch you?” he said with a puzzled expression.

“When you put the needle in my arm you did. I can shift into someone else if you want?” you say shyly, talking about your powers is always weird.

“It's fine, as long as you're comfortable.” he quickly reassures you.

“Cool.” you think for a moment before asking, “What are you doing in here so late?”

“Oh that, um, I told Friday to alert me if you woke up, so you wouldn't be scared. On that note, you really should lay back down.” he says in a quiet tone.

“You did that for me?”  Confused as to why he would want to do this for a stranger. You start making your way back to your bed, leaning on the pole.

“Well yeah, you are my patient.” he says walking next to you. Suddenly your left leg decides it's time for a nap, and you start falling with a yelp. Bruce catches you with surprising strength. <i>How did he catch me so quick?</i> He helps you back to your bed, and you lay back down.

“Thank you, I don't know what happened, my leg just quit working.”

“No harm done. Are you alright, any pain?” he asks sitting at the end of your bed.

“I mean the bullet wound in my chest hurts, but the weird part is, it should hurt more. How long has it been since I got shot?” you ask, looking him in the eyes. <i>His eyes are a very nice deep brown, with some bright green near the iris. Odd.</i>

“It's been 3 days, but your wounds are healing at an accelerated rate, it looks like you got shot 3 weeks ago. Is that part of your powers?” he asks leaning towards you

“No last time I checked!” you say starting to worry about what Hydra did to you there.

“Ok, we’ll figure out why, but right now, you should sleep. Steve and Tony are going to ask you questions in the morning,” he looks down at his watch, then back up to you, “if you sleep now, you should get about another 6 hours before they come back.” he says in a reassuring tone. <i>I can see why he's a doctor, he's so kind.</i>

“I don't know if I can go back to sleep, I didn't have the best dreams before.” you say looking down at your hands, they are large, and strong.

“I can give you something to help you sleep better if you like, but only if you're comfortable, I don't want you to have another panic attack.” he says looking at you with concern.

“Will it give me better dreams?” you ask in a small voice, meeting his gaze again.

“Yes, promise, as long as you promise me that you won't have another panic attack?” he asks while standing and walking to a nearby cabinet, and opening it up.

“I think I can manage that.” you say smiling at him. He turns back to you with a small needle, and a band aid in his hand. He walks towards you and says, “You should lean back, this stuff works quick.” he cleans the area he's about to put the needle in as you lean back. “I will be here in the morning when they ask their questions.”

“Thank you, and thank you for being so nice to me, even though you don't know me.” you say smiling. When he finishes he puts a teenage mutant ninja turtle band aid on your arm. “Really? Teenage mutant ninja turtles?” you ask with a small laugh.

“What? I thought it was appropriate.” he says with a large smile. “Now try and get some sleep, I will see you in the morning.” he says while walking to the door “Goodnight Bruce, thank you…” you say, your words starting to blend together. <i>He was right about this acting quick…</i>

“Goodnight.” Bruce says while turning out the lights, he turns and walks out the door, closing it behind him. He walks back to the elevator, taking it to the recreation floor, where the crew quarters are. He walks to his room, and sits on his bed.

“Friday, please alert me when our patient wakes up.” he says then crawls in bed to sleep as well.

“Yes sir.” Friday whispers from the ceiling.

Back in your room

You smile to yourself,<i> Maybe this place isn't so bad, Bruce is nice, I hope they don't think I'm hydra, I hope I'm not hydra……</i> *Snore*

Time Skip,

You wake up slowly, groggy from the drug Bruce gave you last night. Your eyes are too tired to open n, but your mind starts to work. You feel something, something is wrong. Your eyes pop open and land on a very angry, very tall, very scary, redhead standing in front of your bed with her arms crossed, glaring at you.. <i>Oh shit. Natasha Romanoff!</i>

#marvel #avenger #mcu #tony #steve #bruce #mutant #mutant!reader #i hate tags #avengers x reader

[iworshipkeanureeves]

Ocean Blue Scrubs [2] (Julian Mercer x Reader)

- Part 1 -

A/N: This is probably the most innocent thing I have written so far (but wait for the part 3), and it’s full of drama, cause the reader can’t make up her mind. Also, the reader is turning out to be socially awkward and anxious, but I like her that way.

Summary: Another day at a hospital, where you and Julian try to sort your feelings out.

Warnings: death of a patient, anxiety, angst, but there are some sunny moments here, I promise.

Words: 3,1 K

You woke up with a terrible headache. It was probably the wine, but your head was also heavy with all the nagging thoughts about facing Julian at work after whatever it was that you two had shared the previous night.

Naively, you expected that everything would just go back to the way it had been before. You and Doctor Mercer were supposed to be nothing more than just colleagues, or at least not more than friends. That was what you though would be the right thing, but it was definitely not what you truly desired.

You caught yourself thinking about him, as you decided to put an extra coat of mascara today. It felt as if you were a teenager again, crushing on a boy you had met at school, except it was actually your work this time and your teenage years were over a long time ago. You were a grown-up, unsure how to feel or act in a situation like this, troubled by the combat between your brain and your heart.

------

Stepping through the front door of the hospital, you were nervously looking around for Mercer, fortunately, it was still too early for him and you just went your way. As you reached nurses’ room, you realized that it was your safe spot, since Julian would rarely go there, so you took your time enjoying a cup of morning coffee, stalling in there until it was only a couple minutes left before your work started.

It felt really stupid to be hiding from him, but you weren’t ready to face him just yet. You wanted to sort your thoughts, maybe prepare a little speech, and even though you were sure how you felt about him, you hadn’t yet decided if this relationship was good for both of you. You didn’t even know if Julian wanted something more with you, after all, it was just a kiss and you were both drunk.

Taking over night shift, you glanced at a ward corridor. To your surprise, Julian was already there visiting his patients. He seemed happy and energized, rewarding everyone with his wide, incredibly gorgeous smile. After his miserable past couple of weeks, he seemed to be back on track, and you had a feeling that you were the reason behind all of this. If so, his happiness was extremely fragile and very much dependent on you, so the pressure was on.

It was time to check the IV drips, but Julian was still in the way, and there was this little voice in the back of your head saying that you weren’t ready to face him, not yet. Stuck at your desk, you were re-sorting charts, which had already been organized more than enough, and as you began to sense suspicious stares from the fellow nurses, you decided that maybe it was better if you calmed down a little.

Your new plan was to walk around for a while, visit other floors, and hopefully, by the time you were back, Julian would be gone. The plan was going really well until you decided to take the stairs instead of an elevator, and that’s how you found out that Julian preferred stairs too.

“Hey,” he smiled stepping down and your first thought was to run. Of course you didn’t, but you felt your cheeks embarrassingly flushing as Julian came closer passing you. He turned around and halted one step below, but even this way he was taller than you, leaving your eyes leveled with his perfectly rosy lips.

“Oh, hi-i,” you stuttered, trying to look up into his eyes.

For a moment, it seemed like you both couldn’t find the right words, standing silently in an empty stairway, waiting for either one of you to make the next move.

“I had fun yesterday,” you finally spoke, as the silence was getting unbearable.

“Me to, Y/N,” Julian grinned, gently brushing his fingertips against your quivering knuckles. Then suddenly, as he decided to take you by the hand, you inadvertently flinched making him immediately let go. “Oh, I’m so sorry, it was inappropriate,” he blushed.

“No, it’s OK, but I have patients and I’m already late,” you gushed and ran upstairs without turning around to take a final look at him. You could only hear Julian mumbling something, but you were too far gone to understand it.

You hated yourself, but the nerves would always mess you up when you were around him. It probably meant something, and you knew it, you liked Julian from the moment you met him, you just couldn’t be sure if he felt the same way. Now, when it became obvious that he was actually into you, and the things were finally moving your way, you got scared that you might screw this up.

------

The day felt really long as you were constantly looking over your shoulder, checking if Julian was not somewhere around you. During lunch, you had an awkward encounter, where you just glanced at each other and exchanged subtle smiles, yet you didn’t have the guts to come up to his table. It was beginning to feel like a game.

Every time you were left alone at the nurses’ station, you would immerse yourself in dreams of what life could be, if you were actually dating Doctor Mercer. How nice it would be to wake up next to him each morning, snuggling under the sheets before getting up for breakfast, which you usually skipped when living alone. At work, you would keep your distance, of course, but then once your job was over, you could go back to your shared home and spend evenings together, making dinner, watching movies. You were certain that sex would be amazing too.

Sitting at your desk, completely sunken into one of such fantasies, you saw Julian coming your way and your mind just went blank.

“Look, I can see you’re avoiding me,” Julian sighed leaning on the desk with slight disappointment in his voice, and his dark gaze set from above you. “If you feel uncomfortable about what happened, just tell me and we’ll forget about this.”

If only he knew that you were acting this way, because you truly admired him and you were simply afraid to ruin everything by going in too fast. But how could he know if you didn’t tell him…

“I don’t want things to be weird between us, I’m sorry if I messed everything up last night,” Julian continued, as you failed to respond to his previous words. He was getting anxious, and you felt terrible for torturing him with your indecisiveness.

“Julian, look, I really enjoyed last night with you, it’s just that..,” you wanted to tell Julian everything you felt, but he wouldn’t let you finish.

“Sure, I get it,” he frowned a little, and his eyes filled with sadness that you got used to seeing over the past two weeks. He was so soft and sensitive that it made you even more attracted to him, you wanted to stand up and hug him straight away, nesting him in your embrace, but there were too many people around for you to even consider that.

“Hmm, and what is it that you get?” you started smiling, trying to show that you were positive about this, but it only left Julian really confused. You couldn’t blame him, especially after the way you had been treating him today.

“You like spending time with me, but not that much, it’s cool,” he nodded sucking in his lips, then turned around ready to leave you alone.

“No wait, Julian, that wasn’t what I was going to say,” you raised your voice a little, and only then realized that everyone could possibly hear what you had just said. Julian turned back to face you but his eyes seemed semi-dead, waiting for some final crushing revelation that you wanted to stay friends or it’s not you, it’s me situation.

“Come with me,” you said standing up, taking a pile of documents in your hand. You thought that maybe you would feel more comfortable walking somewhere more private, so you encouraged Julian to follow your way.

Once you turned to a half empty hallway, you didn’t want to keep Julian waiting any longer. “I really like you…”, you said with your eyes stuck to the ground, feeling your heart racing.

“But?” Julian asked, as he sensed that you sentence wasn’t finished yet.

“But things are going really fast and I’m a little overwhelmed,” you were proud of yourself for speaking your mind, hoping it wouldn’t upset him too much.

“Oh…” Julian was even more puzzled and he finally stopped, waiting for you to do the same. “But generally we’re good, right?” he asked still not losing his concern.

“Sure,” you grinned at him, bringing the fire back to Julian’s eyes. He seemed so inconsistent, as his emotion would change with a slight shift in conversation, maybe it was a sign that he wasn’t actually doing well.

It was strange, neither one of you knew what to do next, so you just stared and smiled at each other. As time went by, you had to hold back your anxious giggles, which were about to erupt from your throat. It kind of reminded you of that moment you shared in the stairway hours ago, just this time, your conscience was clear, you had spilled your feelings out, it was Julian’s turn to do so.

Standing still and gazing into his dark eyes, you gave Julian all this time to say something, but he didn’t. What if he didn’t feel the same way about you after all? But then how his words behind that desk could be explained? Maybe he did want to forget about yesterday?

You had to do something before allowing the nerves to take over you again, so you decided to speak first by saying something lighthearted.

“Don’t think I’m running away, but I have work to do, really,” you exhaled. “And so do you,” you then added, handing him a pile of electrocardiograms that you were carrying around in your arms.

“Y/N?” your named rolled smoothly from Julian’s tongue and you turned your head to face him again, waiting for what he was about to say.

“I like you too,” he smiled, “I just don’t want to push you if that’s how you feel. Take your time, ok?” Julian said softly and waved with his papers before going away.

Hearing those words at the corridor had put a broad smile on your face for the rest of the day. Well, at least until you met Julian again.

------

Seeing your phone almost dead, you decided to go find a charger since you were going to stay for the night shift and your battery wouldn’t last. As you got around the corner, you heard an intensive beeping, and your first instinct was to run. Bursting through the door, you only saw Julian performing intense chest compressions and a flat line in the monitor beside him. Everyone else just stood around the bed and it seemed like they had already given up.

Julian appeared to be completely obsessed with saving the patient, but it was already too late, everyone could see that, except him. The nurse next to him stood there completely appalled as Julian was indifferent to everything going on around him, ignoring every request to stop. This wasn’t going to end well and you felt like stepping in.

“Julian,” you said softly moving closer, “It’s over.”

It appeared as a miracle that once your words had reached him, Julian’s movements gradually halted and he stepped away declaring the time of death. He looked defeated and miserable, you could see his eyes almost tearing up as he rushed through the door without even looking at you.

Generally, Julian knew how to deal with it, he had learned to accept the loss of a patient over the course of his career. This time something must have been different, but you didn’t know why.

You decided it was better if you followed him. “Julian, I’m so sorry,” you were practically running after him, as he was heading towards his office. “You know it wasn’t your fault,” you tried to console him, watching Julian gathering his stuff, switching from his white coat into his jacket. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Julian was completely silent. Not that he meant to ignore you, because he did give you a few heart-wrenching glances, he just didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything. It would have probably made him tear up, and he didn’t want to let himself go. Not in front of you.

“Julian, wait, you can’t leave like this,” you said strictly, blocking the door.

“I’m done working for today, so I’m free to go, no?” Julian stood inches away from you, and you could feel his eyes examining your face, residing on your pressed lips.

There was no choice but to let him go, you had no control over him and the last thing you wanted was to cause a scene. Stepping away, you allowed him to lock the door from the outside, and eventually, you ended up going after him, again.

Strangely, he didn’t go to his car, instead he took the path leading to the beach and curiosity got the better of you. You were persistent, leaving the hospital far behind you, and after a while it began to feel like you weren’t following him anymore, instead it was just as you were walking somewhere together. But in silence.

“Where are we going?” you finally demanded, suggesting that you weren’t planning on leaving him any time soon.

“Don’t you have a night shift?” he asked, making you realize that he must have checked your schedule in order to know this.

“No,” you lied.

“Then you’ll see” he smiled and stretched his arm, waiting for you to take his hand.

Hesitant at first, you finally gave in shyly rubbing your thumb in Julian’s palm. There was no point in turning back now, as you could already hear the waves crashing against the shore and the smell of the ocean was tickling your nose.

Surprisingly, instead of sticking to the main path, Julian made a turn and you had no idea where it was leading, you just followed his way. Soon, you learned that it was a secluded beach with a rocky shore and wooden constructions, it seemed natural and untouched, with tiny shrubs scattered in the brightly colored sand. Finally facing the vast ocean, you sucked in a deep breath. It was magnificent. No wonder why Julian wanted to visit a place like this.

Feeling the cool breeze against your skin, you slipped your palm out of Julian’s hand, crossing your arms and shrinking a little. Once he realized you were only in your scrubs, Julian quickly took his jacket off and enveloped your back in it, with his hands pressing firmly onto your shoulders. You could feel his body radiating warmth from behind and it was better than any jacket anyone could ever give you.

“There’s so much going on, it’s overwhelming,” he said against your ear, “I come here to clear my mind.”

Indeed, it was incredibly peaceful, and feeling the weight of Julian arms on your shoulders was adding a sense of security.  You could see how any trouble would go away in a place like this.

“Come on, let’s go,” he gently pushed you forward, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders.

Going along the shoreline, you didn’t talk much. This walk, it felt like Julian was letting you into something private and intimate of his. His special place, where he would only come alone.

You had so many questions. About the patient and why it was so important to him this time, about his very recent break up, whether he was sure he was able to immerse into a new relationship so soon. Also, how were you going to deal with working together if things between you went south. But it almost felt inappropriate to ask such things now as you were a guest in his sacred space.

Finally you heard Julian’s words. “We can’t get far, you have to go back to work,” he said, “I know you have a shift, Y/N.”

It was kind of embarrassing that Julian actually knew you were willing to miss work for him. It was also sweet that he wouldn’t let you do that, he was really caring and responsible after all, it made him a wonderful doctor.

As it was time to finally turn around and you were changing sides coming face to face with each other, you noticed his gaze set on you with golden sand complementing his dark chocolate eyes. It felt like Julian could kiss you any moment now, but all he said was “We’re taking things slow, right?”

Even if you were dying to suck into Julian’s lips, you appreciated that he had listen to you, and was willing to do things your way. Nevertheless, it felt right to at least hug him now, and you snuck your hands in between Julian’s arms wrapping tightly around his core. You could hear Julian’s heart pounding against his tough chest, and the rhythm felt soothing, as you were observing glimmering horizon, held securely in his embrace.

“It was an emotive day, huh?” he mumbled, resting his chin on the top of your head as he pushed you deeper into a hug.  

“It sure was,” you agreed. It must have not been easy for him too, and you stood still with your palms slowly rubbing his back, unwilling to let Julian go. Just for a little longer.

------

Entering the hospital area, you were upset that the walk was over. You loved your job, yet now, you couldn’t help but think that it was much better when Julian was also working around. You knew it was childish to think that way, but truth to be told, Julian had taken complete control over you.

“See you on Monday,” he smiled, as you were both approaching his car.

Hearing him say Monday, it felt so far away, you knew you would be spending all weekend waiting for the day to come.

“How about a dinner tomorrow, at my place?” you suggested out of the blue.

“But you said we should take this slow, Y/N?” Julian grinned, shaking his head surprised.

“Oh yes, well, then the day after tomorrow?” you insisted with a stupid smile, bursting into giggles while taking his jacket off.

“I’ll text you,” he laughed folding the jacked in his hands, escorting you back to the hospital with his longing gaze.

--- To be continued ---

#julian mercer #julian mercer x reader #keanu reeves #julian mercer fanfiction #julian mercer imagine #julian mercer fic #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fic #keanu reeves fanfiction #fanfiction #imagine #ocean blue scrubs #angst #julian mercer x you #keanu reeves x reader #fanfic #fic

[bucky-iss-bae]

Reminiscences - Peter Hale x OFC (Part 2)

Hello againnnn - so I’m finally back, finally going to be active. 

My life has been a mess, I’ve not been motivated, and mentally I’ve gone through a lot the last 10 months, got thorugh University, Graduated, got a job, was a shit job, got another grad job during quarentine, and it’s been good and bad... 

Sorry for never posting and being bad at this, but I want to bounce back, so now its timmmeee. Also this Fic is actually completed. 

Want to post more, and just give you guys good content xoxo 

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing: Peter Hale x OFC (Calla)

Word Count: 2900 (Sorryyy, idk why it’s so long) 

Warnings: None - Slow Start I guess

Summary: Calla has grown up as Derek’s best friend, she’s known the Hales her whole life,she’s known their secrets and everything in Beacon Hills. Things in Beacon Hills are quiet, the pack are a family, and Calla realises that Peter knows more of her secrets than she realises.

A/N: Hope you all enjoy, any feedback is welcome x

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Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscenes Part 1 

Part 2 

The days following that evening I completely ignored Peter. I saw him whenever he was lurking around Derek’s, I even went to the efforts of walking the complete opposite direction as him when I went grocery shopping. But if he remembers, everything every single thing I told him. Then I may as well die now. Especially since he’ll use that against me. This is Peter we’re on about.

“So you’ve apparently been ignoring Peter?” Derek asked once he settled onto my couch on Thursday.

I rolled my eyes, “And. There’s nothing wrong with that, he’s a psycho”

Derek huffed out a laugh, “There is when it makes him mopey. He comes around to mine in hope that you’re there you know”  

“Well, maybe he should stop trying to be such a stalker” I told his nephew. It was weird that there was such a large but short age difference between Peter and us. He wasn’t ever seen as the adult when we were younger, he had a boyish smirk, he had charm, and wit, and was so different compared to how he is now. He completely changed because of the fire, and the 5 years of solitude almost. He grew up, yet I didn’t see this change despite being the only person visiting him. I didn’t know he was the alpha yet I made a fool out of myself by being there for him, and he couldn’t even trust me.

“You sure it’s that?” Derek asked.

“Derek. If you’re here to talk about Peter then you can just leave. Actually no you can’t you don’t have an option, stop talking about Peter, tonight is about us. If you want I’ll send him a text saying hi later and then ignore him”

Derek shook his head a small smirk on his face. I felt a bit bad that I was taking Derek away from his boyfriend. But I needed my best friend sometimes as well.

“Good, now how are things with Stiles going?”

Derek huffed out a laugh, “They’re going well. Really well actually, never really thought that I would end up with him, but it’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. And I sound like a soppy teenager. So let’s talk about your love life”

I snorted, “Right, what love life? Actually, I went on a date last week, it was a complete failure. I’m just glad that the girls who set me up with him don’t work in the same department as him”  

Derek started to laugh, “How comes I didn’t know about this?”

“Because I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t even... it wasn’t even a big deal for me. I wasn’t excited, I just wanted to get it over and done with, and the worst thing is when I was getting into my car at the end of the night he tried to kiss me. And Derek I still cringe, what happened was I turned my head so fast he kissed my hair. Completely missed the cheek”

This caused Derek to laugh, loudly, at me. “Wow Calla. Who would’ve thought huh?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes at him, “Shut up. It was a mess, so I rather not talk about that. Instead, I’m going to set up a tinder profile.”

Derek still had this amused smirk on his face, it was nice seeing him like this. For the first time in years, he was happy. His life was on track, sure there were constant threats to the town, but that happens, that’s part of the job description of being a werewolf, and with Derek being a complete shifter, it makes a difference.

But being with Stiles makes a difference, you can literally see the way that he looks at him, and I haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. He’s almost that young cocky guy he once was, but a more matured version who has a history to him. Who has so much more to himself than ever before, and I’m proud of him. Proud of everything he’s gone through and defeated. I know his mom, and sister would also be proud of him, whether he’s an alpha or not, he’s still so powerful, and has such a good heart.

“Let’s get started then” He grinned at me.

I rolled my eyes and rather than Pizza we ordered Chinese food, and rather than watching a film we created a tinder profile for me. It was terrible, Derek called in the big guns and Stiles was on Face time with us, which made it even worse for me. But I didn’t mind, I love stiles, and boy let me tell you he added spice to my basic profile. And obviously gave my pictures a yes or no.

“I’ve helped you guys this far, let me help with the swiping” Stiles said through the phone.

I scoffed at him, “Derek say bye to your man he’s helped enough”

Derek shook his head with a small smile on his face, “You heard the boss” He said to him.

“All that help, you better show me your matches or who you’ve spoken to over the next few days Calla. I’ll know if you don’t”

I laughed at him and Derek soon hung up, “Come on, let’s see who’s around then”

Both Derek and I started swipping through these guys, commenting to each other, and swiping left or right. Mainly left. Let’s be honest. Most of these guys either looked like guys who were balding too early in life, or others who were after a quick fuck. Despite everything I did manage to swipe right a few times.

“Please let’s stop now. Like, if you think I’m going actually going to find anyone through tinder its... not likely. It’s just a bit of fun, could lead to a quick lay”

“The same way Stiles and I getting together wasn’t likely”

I grinned at him “I should’ve called it. When you constantly wanted to get mad at him, way back when, and you just couldn’t. But that itself feels like years ago”

“Yeah, the same way my uncle spared your life?” Derek said back.

I glared at him and hit his arm, “I hate you, and I’m pretty sure your uncle is a sociopath”

“Yeah. Same but, let’s be real here. He has a soft spot for you Calla”

“Derek, I will stab you if you don’t shut up.”

“I would love to see you try”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “I will call Argent right now and get him to help me out”

He laughed, “Alright, I’ll shut up now. I’m sorry”

I nodded, “You better be sorry... Also why do you keep bringing up your uncle of all people to me?” I asked curiously.

Derek knows nothing of what I done whilst he was away, he knows nothing of the feelings I once harboured for Peter, maybe I still do which is why I’m so defensive, but no one needs to know this. But still, there’s got to be a reason behind Derek’s madness right now. Maybe Peter wormed his way into his head? It’s a possibility.

“You just said you wanted me to shut up”

I shrugged, “Just curious. Then you can shut up, and we can watch something”

He shook his head, “The way he acts around you I guess. He’s a prick towards everyone, including you don’t get me wrong, but he’s a different type of prick round you. And he cares about you, he gets protective, worries, cares”

I would be lying if I said that didn’t affect me, but it does. Although it means nothing.

“Derek, are you forgetting that I was basically raised around him. Wherever you were, he was, or the other way around. Like he’s been a constant figure in my life for a very long time. Sure he wasn’t mobile for a few of those years. But he was still in Beacon Hills. So maybe that’s why, maybe he has something that slightly resembles feelings from when he’s younger and he sees me as the kid that he used to teach basketball to, and just putting this out there I am amazing at basketball, which has got to be the meaning behind this madness, and this is because of him, and maybe a little you, but still”

“Really? We live in this town, and that’s what you call madness?” He asked.

“Yes Derek. That is madness, you’re forgetting I’m just a human girl who only just knows how to defend herself and I rather have that as my type of madness instead of anything else”

“How have you actually been?” He asked me giving me a serious look, “Like... you’ve literally been thrown into this world again, months after your parents passed away, and sure that was a couple of years ago, but you rarely see your younger brother because he’s working abroad, and the only other family you have is us. But most weekends we’re off fighting something supernatural, and you’re just at the loft, waiting.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine Derek. I’m happy... sure I miss my parents a lot and that set me back a lot. That made me want to constantly curl up into a ball and just cry. But having you back, having this normal-ish again. These last few months, I’ve gotten better. Ive also got my girls” I said with a smile, but he looked at me, waiting for me to elaborate causing me to sigh and twist my body completely towards him,

“Derek, I’m working an amazing Job, sure it doesn’t pay the best but I don’t need the money. I have money, instead I’m doing something I enjoy, and they’re easy shifts. I’ve always wanted to be an elementary teacher, but without the stress so a teaching assistant is the best thing. And I have Fridays off, and I do talk to my brother. Just not as often as I want because he’s doing so well for himself in London. And I have you Derek, I have my life long best friend. After everything we’ve been through we’re both here and we’re both happy. Sure my life could be further along than it currently is, but I’m finally in a good place”

He nodded at me, “Good” He whispered, “I’m happy to hear that”

“I hate you” I said shaking my head, but in reality he knows that I love him and he is my absolute best friend no matter how much I want to kill him.  

**

Apparently Lydia and Malia found it amusing that I now have an online dating profile. Everyone did, all aside from one person. That person I’m still avoiding but he still finds a way to worm his way into my life, especially since I’m currently sat with the girls, who are judging each and every guy whose photo I scroll through, and his face pops up.

Malia was laughing, seeing her father’s face on my phone, and Lydia finding it as amusing made me realise I need more friends other than Derek my age. Especially since Lydia decided on swiping right.

“Well, well, it’s a match” Lydia laughed, “But it makes me think, whats the maximum age you’re hitting here”

I rolled my eyes with a small scoff, trying to keep my heartbeat in place, “Well, if I wanted to talk to him. I would, yet I’m not, and you just swiped for me, that’s not fair, and guy my age are… I don’t know” I said to them.

“Well he clearly wants to talk to you” Lydia murmured.

I scoffed, “He wants to get under my skin. It’s what he does. Anyway don’t you girls have I don’t know other stuff to do?” I asked trying to change the subject.

“Nope, completely free tonight.” Lydia grinned.

I internally groaned but only seconds later was I literally saved by the bell, my phone started to ring, and Derek’s name popped up.

“Hello” I answered.

“Where are you?” He asked.

“I’m at Lydia’s place. With Lydia and Malia. Why?”

“No reason. Just, a few threats about, tell me when you’re going to leave to get home, and message me when you get there alright”

I rolled my eyes but had a small smile on my face, “Yes of course Derek. Do you know who or what it is?”

“Not sure yet. Probably isn’t something too dangerous. But whatever it is, they’re drawing other hunters to town. And now we have twice as much to look out for.”

“Stay safe then Derek. Does Chris know the hunters?”

“He’s looking into it”

I nodded, “Alright then. Just make sure you’re all safe and everything ok”

“Yeah always. Remember to message me when you get home” He then hung up and I looked at Lydia,

“What’s happened?” She asked me,

“Something else is out there, along with some hunters. And now I’m worried that these hunters will obviously know about our boys, and one thing will lead to another and someone might get hurt”

She had a worried expression on her face before looking at Malia who was on the phone to Scott, “We’ll figure it out. We always do”

I nodded, although I didn’t get involved as much considering I’m human with no special ability at all, and no badge, and well I’m not the smartest of the bunch. I just make sure everyone’s safe and worry about them all whilst making sure they eat and do their homework. That’s obviously the teacher side of me coming out there, no matter what ages I teach even if I am only a teaching assistant who works 4 days a week.  

“So Scott just said that Stiles and Chris are trying to find out who the hunters actually are, and that he Derek and Peter are going to find whatever’s out there. He told me to stay here...”

“You’re not are you?” Lydia asked.

Malia smirked and shook her head, “Nope. And I’m pretty sure you two won’t either, so who’s going to drop me off at Scott’s house?”

Both Lydia and I looked at each other before sighing and getting up, we got our stuff together, she called out to her mom telling her that we were going to Scott’s before we all left.

**

“What are you all doing here?” Scott asked once we walked in.

“You think we’re really going to let all the boys have the fun?” Malia asked her boyfriend, “And come on, I know those woods better than anything” She shrugged.

No one could deny that, both her and Chris were the best hunters here. As in being able to physically find something with the given clues.

“And I’m here to assist Stiles and Chris apparently” Lydia shrugged, everyone easily let that pass before all eyes were on me.

“I thought I told you to go home. It’s dangerous”

I shrugged, “I know. I really didn’t have any other choice” I said nodding my head towards Malia.

“Well you should just go home then. You’ll just be in the way otherwise” Peter snapped at me.

I rose my eyebrows at him, silently cursing Lydia for swiping right on his stupid face.

“I might just stay, make sure you don’t snake anyone out” I spat back to him.

“What and you think you’ll be able to stop me?”

“Peter won’t do anything, we’re not even sure what the problem is at the moment. So just go home Calla” Derek told me.

I felt a bit taken back at how blunt and rude he was at that, and considering no one decided on saying anything, I just grabbed my bag and left without a word. Because hey there’s nothing new there, being treated like I’m nothing despite seeing everyone as family. I would’ve expected a bit more considering they’ve got literal kids in there helping yet I can’t. Even if it is to make sure they’re all safe and not making stupid plans. I was there when Talia was alpha, I know how things work. Instead I just get embarrassed surrounded by my friends, and left to feel worthless because I’m of no help.

As soon as I got in my car, I knew that all I needed right now was a glass of wine, and some trash TV.

Which is exactly what I done when I got home, wine, some trash TV, and the comfort of my own apartment. And as petty as I may sound, I just hate feeling this way, and knowing that it’s something that constantly happens, I don’t see why I get involved in the first place. It’s the same old thing, I try and be there for everyone, they shut me out whenever shit goes down and I just keep running back. But no this isn’t going to keep happening because this week I will make the time and effort to go out with my girlfriends. I’ll dress up and have fun without worrying about anything else. Derek won’t be there to stop me, Peter won’t be there with his snarky remarks, and I won’t be surrounded by teenagers.

Which is exactly why I messaged my friends that I’m always talking to yet never have the time to see because I’m constantly with everyone else. We spoke for a little while before I asked when everyone was free for drinks, and guess what this girl is doing on Thursday after work. A night out, with my girls, and I can’t wait.  

Because I really felt in the mood to treat myself, I also planned on going shopping with one of the girls tomorrow after work. So no harm done there, I’ll buy myself a new outfit, some new makeup all ready for Thursday.

Peter Hale x OFC - Reminiscences Part 3 

#Peter Hale #Peter Hale Imagine #Peter Hale Fan Fic #Peter Hale Fan Fiction #Teen Wolf #Peter Hale x OFC #OFC #Original Female Character #Teen Wolf Fic #Teen Wolf Fan Fiction #Reminiscences

[reddogf13]

Crossing fates web ch 1

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: Beverly's life had drastically changed since childhood. claws, sharp teeth, the urge to devour human meat. a aggressive clan of vampires trying to claim her forcing her to flee from LA back to Derry for a save haven. where something else has awakened to the sensation that a female deadlight had arrived. a web of coincidences from their pasts have the two questioning fate.

status: In progress

rated: M - fowl language and gore

previous chap: None

next chap:   Crossing fates web ch 2

_____________________________________

~ch:1 Two of a kind~

Beverly shivered under the street light alone in a dark alley. Blood covering her face dripping down to land on the body beneath her extended claws. The hunger inside had fought to the surface when a man tried to drag her away someplace unknown. The first slash of her claws spilt the blood that drew out her fangs. Mauling into his chest to swallow down the meat. Getting his heart down by the time she regained control.

She sighed in taking in a few more bits of meat. Stomach unsure of if it wanted the food or not. Or maybe it was mainly her gag reflex doing the rejecting. Stopping after half the body was stripped of meat. Licking her hands of blood as her claws retracted. Her life had drastically changed these past 7 years and she had no idea why. By the end of high school she noticed the desperate hunger inside began to creep out.

She thought something was wrong at first with her never ending stomach. Moving from Derry to be closer to a specialist hospital in LA. Doctors did test after test and best they could come up with was Prader-Willi syndrome, a constant need to eat. They gave her various medications with schedule therapy visits to try and handle her condition. None of it helped and it only got painfully worse. She felt sick all the time and weak to the point it was as if she was starving herself despite eating large meals all the time. Hoping something would settle the clawing hunger of her body.

Meals went down and felt like it immediately vanished into thin air. Her hunger wanted something more then steak. More then the eventual glasses of blood she chugged down. These cravings scared her the most until she made her first kill. Those cravings were now the least of her worry's. Having killed a man who she went out on a date with. After a dinner date he drove them to a dark secluded make out point. The date going sour when he turned forceful for sex until she lashed out in a panic. This was the first time she discovered her claws as well as the first time she discovered her teeth.

Her sharp long razor teeth latched onto the boys throat. Blacking out to the strong scent of blood filling the air. Mind coming to in a car coated in blood and his body mostly eaten sitting by. Her clothes soaked in the rotten blood mixed with meat bits. Despite her extreme disgust for her actions she realized the hunger was finally gone. She cried in that bloody car, not from fear, but of relief that her body was no longer starving.

She dumped him and his car into a lake out in the middle of nowhere. Burned her clothes to ashes with the hopes that no other evidence would be linked to her. A while after that things got better, somewhat. Her college acceptance letter to a nearby school had arrived, for one. She wasn't about to let some illness destroy her dreams of working in fashion. Still in the back of her mind was the death of her date just a few weeks ago.

Energy swarmed her body, the hunger gone, and she was getting a lot of attention. Not necessarily the bad kind she was used to. Men were constantly trying to talk to her for a possible date. rather then stare or outright asking for a blow job behind a dumpster. Girls were no longer glaring or whispering rumors about her. Instead they were constantly trying to invite her to party's around campus. At first she denied them all out of fear shed be treated to a Carrie prom scene reenactment. Along with the dreadful feeling she shouldn't bother and why was she even bothering with school after a murder.

A couple weeks later she got a knock on the door by a couple detectives. Questioning her all about the mans disappearance and that she was last seen with him on a date. Each question she lied through her teeth in fear of being caught. And just like that, they suddenly dropped all interest in her. It was as if every lie she told was taken as the most honest golden truth. The detectives never returned nor did any sign of a police investigation around her. The mans death was never reported with only missing posters of him set up. As if the body they found was forgotten.

Unfortunately that wave of good fortune had to end. The hunger returned a few months after those detectives visited. Exhaustion worsening each day until it was all too painful again. She had to eat, she had to stop the excruciating hunger. But she couldn't kill again, could she? But she did eventually. Preying on various drug dealers who orbited the college. The ones not only selling things like cocaine, but the extreme date drugs. Beverly had no remorse for devouring these disgusting individuals who didn't care what happened to girls at party's. Each time after some detective or officer would come to question her. After years of this she got used to it as a routine.

She waits until the hunger is too much to bare. She commits to a victim to hunt in the night. Police eventually come and shes ready to give an excuse. If they could be called that anymore after realizing they would accept anything. She could say they only passed on a street and security cameras were wrong and they'd believe her. Then she'd be set for almost a month before restarting the cycle again.

Years have passed and she was now 23 years old. Her routine slowly turning more disrupted by strange urges. Sleeping on a regular bed wasn't an option anymore. She preferred some tight space that had her sleeping in a hammock. Wanting to aimlessly wander around town to look over things that normally wouldn't matter to her. Seeing if her local coffee shop was in good condition or if a particular tree was untouched by town maintenance. If something changed it agitated her for a while before getting used to it.

The next was a particular appetite increasing during certain parts of the year. Wanting to date various men to bring home for a bit of fun. It annoyed her that she was practically bringing all those horrible rumors alive, but what was worse was the urge. Wanting to sleep with someone to lessen that ache between her legs that kept her up for weeks until it died down on its own. As if she wasn't exhausted enough between her drastic fastings.

When these cycles started she developed a strange tugging at her chest. As if some instinct was calling her to travel someplace far. She thought it was weird and silly, so she ignored it. What could possibly be at the end of that line? And how far was it? If she had to cross the ocean there would be no chance of her to visit. Around this same time she had caught the unwanted attention from a particular old man.

After one of those exhausting urges died down for the year she was attacked by an unknown person. A bite to the neck being done before they fled. She was pissed, but thought nothing else of it until weeks later when the attacker returned. She was relaxing after home work when he suddenly appeared in her living room. It was he middle of the night and she was horrified to see some strange man had gotten into her apartment.

“you're body hasn't changed at all?” his voice and appearance startling her.

“get the fuck out!” she roared, teeth shifting to something sharp when she was angry. Nails threatening to extend for a fight.

“i am not here to fight. I want peace between us, a bond.” his smooth voice not at all calming her.

She wanted him gone and threateningly snarled at him to “back away!”

ignoring her frightening change in appearance. “you fought off my bite. I didn't realize there was a bit more to you.” the man much older then she was, looking to be in his mid 50s to early 60s. Wearing a dark suit and red tie.

“what the fuck are you talking about?! Get out of here!”

“i wanted you to be by my side as queen of the clan.” he boosted, making him all the more annoying to her. “me and my large family are all vampires. I've been looking for a mate and you luckily caught my eye.” explaining proudly. “ive had not seen such a lovely girl in centuries. Especially not one with such fabulous red hair.” trying to touch a lock on her head that had her leaning back in revulsion.

“lucky me.” voice dripping in disgust. “i don't give a fuck what you want you creepy old pervert!” bearing her sharp teeth at him in readying for a fight.

her words bruising his ego. “stupid girl! I could give you anything you want and you show your teeth at me?!”

the memory of that old vampire still filled her with rage. Since that day he never really took no as an answer. Harassing her to join his clan every night. Throwing insults every time she refused. It was getting more serious then that as he left her “gifts” of dead pets in her house. She was sure that if she had any close friends they would be threatened for leverage against her. Thinking of that satanic man seeming to have called him to appear.

“oooh, if it isn't my love out for a midnight meal.” that smooth voice knotted her stomach.

She thought “speak of the devil.” in facing him, claws at the ready. Growling through her bared teeth still coated by blood. “what do you want?!”

“you're making this awfully difficult my sweetie girl.”

“don't call me that! I told you I wont join your fucking clan.”

his happy face changing to a disapproving frown. “if you know whats good for you, you'll come home with me.”

“i will never go anywhere with you. You're a disgusting creep who can burn under the sun!”

“if you don't bite your tongue, you're going to be awfully sorry.” snarling through his own sharpened teeth. Making a mistake in grabbing Beverlys arm. She lashed out to claw deeply into his face, forcing him to let go.

She fled back to her dorm as the vampire shouted threats behind her. “you'll regret everything! I'll make you my bitch by next season!” his shouts echoing across the night.

After that and through the day things went by normally. Boring classes, guys trying to hook up in between, more boring classes that went into the night.

She should have taken his warning more seriously. He was so aggressively persistent she should have seen it coming. The carnage that night as the college was swarmed by his clan. It started with the fire alarms being pulled. All the exits blocked by carefully placed flames. Then the clan invaded through the roof to slaughter each human they came across. Students ripped apart left and right to further block the burning halls with corpses.

Floors covered by a thin layer of blood Beverly fled over. Afraid of all the times she slipped in the slick blood would make it her last mistake. she was attacked by a few vampires who didn't care who she was. Forcing her to fight bodies away left and right to flee somewhere away from the growing flames. Making her way to the roof where she jumped off to slam into a nearby tree. Claws preventing her from losing her grip upon climbing down. She looked over the red view of her college burning to the ground after a massacre of its attendees. This vampire stalking her was no longer a nuisance, he was a serious threat. She saw no choice but to runaway someplace safe.

Rushing home covered in blood mixed ash she didn't take the time to wash off at the dorm. Shoving all her important belongings into what bags she could carry. Scrounging for what money she loosely collected around the dorm room. Throwing her stuff into her car to drive straight out of town. Refusing to stop for a moment before the sun covered the land providing safety from that vampire and his clan. Sun touching her skin she pulled over to the side of the empty long highway. Stepping out to sit in silence to regather herself. Breaking down into a sobbing mess when it all hit her.

So many she knew were now dead and burned to ashes. She could never go back there, but where would she go now? She had no one, not even her childhood friends the losers. Having lost contact with them after she moved to her aunts after the incident with her dad and … IT. A vision of that clowns jaws opening to a blinding orange light had her shaking her head. Drying her tears away in regathering herself she sat outside her car for a little while longer. she at first ignored the strange sensation of tugging that was always there, but eventually she payed attention.

“... may as well go. What have I got to lose?” rubbing her eyes of left over tears. Grabbing a half filled water bottle to clean as much gunk as she could off her. Didn't want to be pulled over a blood and ashen mess. Stepping back into her car for a drive she expected to be long.

And it was. Crossing into state after state driving through days and nights before stopping at a motel. The tugging sensation providing her with a satisfied feeling of being so close to her final destination. Another part of her worried about the vampires following. She didn't know how far they could travel during the night. It was part of why she skipped stopping a few nights to keep driving. At this point her body couldn't push on any longer through its starving exhaustion. All this stress greatly depleted herself back into feeling the hunger.

A ordered pizza wouldn't work for a quick road stop meal. She needed someone and she wasn't in LA anymore with drug dealers galore at every corner to prey on. Staying up late with an alarm set for early morning she knocked out right away. Waking from the alarm blaring while feeling no different then when she went to bed. Hopping into a cold shower that she hoped would wake her, was in vain. Checking out to her car when he arrived hiding not to far under the shade of a small tree.

“my, you've gotten really far since we last flirted.” the old vampire teased.

“stay away from me!” avoiding him to get in the car. Thankful he couldn't do anything with so much sunlight keeping him from stepping closer.

He laughed as she drove away in a hurry. “you cant run my sweet!” he shouted after her, ready to meet her the next time she stopped again.

A couple more days through a few more states had her seeing the vampire more often. It didn't matter how long she drove he would be waiting for her at the next gas station. For the entire trip he had a calm demeanor until she got on one particular lone road. Stopping at a gas station someplace she didn't even know where anymore. Following that tugging in her chest in full confidence that she'd be safe at its end. Judging by the vampires reaction that may just be the case. Or the exact opposite from what he said to her.

Confronting her in the night at the gas station she was forced to refuel at. “do you know where you're going?! Do you want to die?!” he yelled at her, pointing down the road she was taking. “you cant go that way!” desperate to catch her he lunged in grabbing her.

She fought against him with the fear she would lose this time. She didn't have nearly the energy she used to states ago. She hadn't slept in half a week nor did she properly eat. She lashed out repeatedly with her claws until he was forced to let go. Looking like he got into a brawl with a large cat. Free of his grasp she drove the car off without even taking the gas pump out. The thing broken off in her escape from the station.

“It'll kill you!” she heard him shouting, but didn't care after all the other things he shouted at her.

Driving the last few hours of her trip when she arrived to some small town. That tugging feeling lifted to leave behind a great satisfaction. on top of a burst of energy, but now what? The vampire didn't like the place so maybe she was safe? Time to at least find a place to sleep, get some food and figure more out tomorrow. Parking her car at a holiday inn where she managed to check into a room late. Sighing at her pitiful wallet almost empty after such a long road trip.

Unloading all her stuff into the place she rented for a few nights. Walking back out to a diner she saw was somehow still open late in the night. Soon as she entered the door one agitated waitress walked up to say something, but at the sight of Beverly she stayed quiet for a second in concern.

“just you? Would you like a coffee?”

“yes and yes.” Beverly replied. Following the waitress to a front counter table. Guessing from the girls reaction she was sure she looked awful. She definitely felt like it and thought that, “that was the only reason they didn't shoo me away.” the diner empty aside from staff. A nice cup of coffee given as she sent in her order of a hefty meal. Steak sided by mashed potatoes and gravy. A basket of fried chicken with mixed vegetables. And a burger sided by fries. Drinking her coffee to somewhat wake as food was prepared. Choking it down at the sight of their napkins saying “Derrys number one diner four years running!”

“fuck, back in Derry?” she thought. “Didn't think I'd end up back here. Why? Some freaky homesick reasons?” rolling her eyes at not recognizing her destination sooner. Tired brain focusing on her coffee mostly to pass the time before food.

She didn't properly consider why she was pulled here.

The secret reason deep below Derry in a slumber that had been going on these past 7 years. The deadlights awakening to the call of another entering its territory. A precious rare female that even in slumber it couldn't possibly pass up the opportunity to court. “a female?” its voice rousing from slumber. “here in my little old Derry on earth? Cant be.” the creature questioning its senses. “i haven't seen a female in billions of years.”

recalling the last time he courted another of his species. Those instances never turned out well in the long run. Something he envied of these puny humans was their ability to stay as a couple. Females of his kind were extremely picky, one mistake had you permanently off their potential mate list. He had succeeded in courting them, creating egg clutches together, only for it to fall apart then. Eggs dying had the females seeing his life force not strong enough to pass on. Separating each time despite every other coupling of his species having the same problems. It had gotten bad enough that their species was on the brink of extinction. Females unwilling to accept one male that wasn't seen as perfect in every way.

He wanted a mate so badly or at least another of his kind to share company with. He even tried creating his spawn without a female. Possible, but extremely hard to pull off compared to the coupling way. Each one of those a depressing failure. Now though, a female was here possibly a young one from a egg clutch that managed to live. She was here, most likely interested in him as she traveled across dimensions to this specific spot in the universe. He would be fresh to her and maybe her standards wouldn't be too high. Fearing that his damaged deadlights would get him automatically rejected.

He didn't realize what had happened until after the fight with those kids. The annoying brats who called themselves the losers club. At some point a chunk of his dead lights were gone. Which he worried about as he should have felt them die off, but he felt nothing from them as if they were snipped away. A clean cut without more in the cluster damaged or weakened. After the shock of seeing them missing it didn't matter much. His cluster patched up that empty space to be like new again, but still. A female could notice a patch job of new vs old clusters. A injured male did not have a strong enough life force.

One way to find out as he formed a hand to stretch out of the well. Gloved white with ruffles at the wrist leading to silver silk. His favorite form of Pennywise the dancing clown crawling out of the well. Making sure he looked proper and healthy before heading out to find the female gracing his town.

Meanwhile Beverly had eaten all of the food she ordered. Pessimistically staring down at the empty plates that offered nothing against her hunger. Placing a huge tip to the poor staff who would have to clean all the dishes before closing. Her wallet empty now that shed have to figure something out tomorrow for a job. Walking back to the hotel she passed down a alley way without noticing a figure waiting for her to pass.

A young boy jumping her to shove a knife at her throat. “give me your money!”

Beverly stood calm, partially because she was too exhausted to deal with this. “kid, go home. I don't have any money.

The boy was maybe thirteen wearing a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off. A bandanna over his mouth, white tshirt, and baggy ripped jeans slightly covering his fancy tennis shoes he may have stolen from someone or somewhere.

“give me your wallet!”

“i don't have anything!” she repeated.

“you gotta have jewelry! That jacket expensive?!”

invading her personal space too much she snapped at him with sharpened teeth. “get back! I told you there's nothing! I am broke!” the last straw was when he grabbed at her coat. Claws out to slash across his chest to get him away. He backed away, but the damage was done with the scent of blood filling her mouth with drool. Holding herself back proven useless after the hunger took over. Blacking out for some amount of time. Stomach full of real food she came too over the boys half eaten body.

“fuck.” she tiredly sighed. Guilt hitting her heart at killing someone so young even if he did want to mug her. Usually she ate a bit more from her kills, but not this time with it turning her stomach. Sitting down to drop her head into her arms to take a moment of silence. Unaware of her surroundings to notice the clown, she once faced, approaching.

He too was distracted by the thoughts in his mind that he didn't notice it was thee Beverly marsh. “there she is.” watching her sit by a meal she was eating. “must not be doing too well if shes eating out in the open.”

females preferred taking their meal someplace safe to eat in privacy. He knew if they didn't they could be too ill for the physical work of dragging away prey. He thought of how best to approach her if she was sick. It was already rude to encroach on their space while they ate a meal. More so if they were sick and couldn't afford to skip one. “i could fetch her more as a presenting gift.” he thought. Gifts helped calm females along with getting used to him being near.

He slowly approached the female as to not scare her. Keeping a distance in case she lashed out from him getting too close to her food. “welcome to my town.” he greeted softly.

Beverlys head shot up at the voice she recognized. Eyes going wide at the sight of the clown standing so close. His smile dropping to shock at seeing her coated in blood eating the corpse of a human. Neither of them said anything, but stared before Beverly turned to run off as a startled deer would after hearing a branch crack.

Pennywise left standing there horribly confused. “no, that cant be! She has deadlights, but shes a human! She never had them before, did she? Did I not notice? NO! I would have! I brought her into my lights, I would have seen-!” then it hit him. That part of his deadlights didn't disappear, they moved.

That whole time he scared those kids he used her newly developing maturity to scare her. The blood in the sink due to her new found of age bleeding. He didn't care for it unless it scared her. When it no longer did he had to resort to something more drastic. Bringing her into his lights to witness the paralyzing pain of a slow digestion among his deadlights. He'd never done that while a human was in the short window of maturing. Her body absorbed a cluster during that window before being freed by the other losers. The whole mess of their fight distracting him from noticing until it was far too late.

Even if he noticed the cluster missing after she was freed, would he have expected her to have them? No, he would have assumed they disappeared like this whole time. He might have not been able to see them immediately. With her fully mature now, so to were her deadlights. This situation was going to change everything in how he dealt with her. She was a female of his species, yet still a human. Was she worth courting anymore, could he afford to be that picky? Did it even matter after what he'd done to her? He may already be rejected from her possible mates list.

Startling her from her meal wasn't helpful either. It was hardly touched with her looking exhausted and so ill. Were the deadlights killing her as they weren't meant to be in a human body? He had so many questions that only she could answer. Tomorrow he'd check in on her from afar in avoiding stressing her during her ill condition.

#it 2017 #pennywise #beverly marsh #pennywise x beverly marsh

[the-omni-princess]

Silver and Gold

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary: Soulmate!AU, The first words spoken to you by your soulmate are written on your wrist. What happens when two super soldiers say the same thing at the same time?

Word Count: 2.4K

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Injuries, blood, a bit of angst, bit of fluff

A/N:

A request by @darknessdaughterr for some soulmate confusion between Steve and Bucky and a “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

-

[Masterlist]

----

Soulmarks. That's what they called the words etched onto your wrists. They first appeared when you officially hit puberty, and they were the lifeline to your soulmate. Your other half, your perfect half. The first words your soulmate would say to you (once you had your mark) would be the words etched onto your skin forever. They would change colors, from the brown-grey they started off as, an ugly dull color, to a beautiful rainbow and array of colors.

Some people found their soulmates right away, your best friend in middle school let out a small gasp when the heartthrob of the school asked her for a pen. Her wrist busted into beautiful shades of green like a forest etched into the writing. Some people got lucky with their marks, and their colors always meant something to their other half.

When your mark first etched into your skin, you were thirteen. Womanhood gave you cramps and a soulmark. Despite how elated your family was that your mark appeared, they always teased you about your soulmate's choice of first words. "What the hell are you doing?" Etched in cursive, dull, brown ink. You used to get excited whenever someone spoke to you for the first time. Now, much older than your friends, you felt left out. You were one of the few people with a boring, lifeless, and haven’t-met-my-soulmate-yet-grey mark. You've been pointedly ignoring it for years.

You became a practiced surgeon. The long shifts at the ER helped ease your mind that you were one of the few people without your soulmate yet. Your family worried about it constantly. Maybe your other half was dead, maybe they aren't even from the same country as you.

Pushing all those thoughts aside, and begging to get away from your overbearing family, you moved to New York, and were approached by a Stark representative to work as the Avengers' personal surgeon. It took months of preparation under Helen Cho and Bruce Banner, learning exactly what ailments and enhancements every Avenger had. Super soldiers, gamma radiation, a telekinetic witch, it was a lot to learn, but you took it in stride.

Now three months into the position came the first challenge, a mission gone sideways. You grabbed your stethoscope, wrapping it around your neck as FRIDAY's voice appeared. "Your presence is requested in OR 2, Agent Barton has deep lacerations and multiple bullet wounds."

"On it!" You called out to the AI, already heading in that direction. You rushed in, noticing Dr. Banner already attempting to take a bullet out of the still awake Hawkeye. "Jeez, ever heard of anesthesia Bruce? And stop pulling on that bullet in his leg, it could be lodged in his femoral artery and he'll bleed out before you can toss the bullet into waste." You gloved up, shooing the doctor away who held his hands up in surrender. "Hello, I'm Dr. Y/n L/n, and excuse my forgoing of formalities, Agent Barton, but the bullet in your shoulder looks to have nicked something major and I'd rather make sure you live than introduce myself." He responded with a groan, nodding. You now noticed the redhead he was gripping hands with, who you recognized as Natasha Romanoff before you rushed to help him.

You quickly went to work, asking Bruce for gauze when needed and taking out bullets, green eyes watching you like a hawk, which you found ironic. Four bullets later you sutured the bullet wounds, then the laceration, effectively cleaning up the blood and bandaging him up. You clapped your hands faintly, smiling. "Done!" You grinned up at the two. Clint was out of it, staring up at Natasha who was staring at you. "Make sure he rests, and he should be up and running in a few weeks."

"You're new," Natasha stated, still eyeing you warily.

You nodded, "Still getting the hang of it, but I know what I'm doing, usually at least. But what's a little adventure into the unknown?" You smiled warmly, noticing she loosened up a bit.

"Thanks for patching Clint here up," she sighed softly, still holding onto the Archer.

"Of course, kind of my job to make sure you are all patched up. Tell him to try not to hit anything too major next time though," you teased.

She chuckled, "Will do, till next time."

"Hopefully you guys stay safe enough there aren't too many next times, besides, I have to take Robin Hood here to a room to rest," you cleaned up the station, before transferring Clint to his own room to rest. Natasha and you kept talking, and by the time you had to leave, she had started warming up to you.

You had found out she was so wary since the two were soulmates. Her soulmark was shades of purple, and Clint's was in shades of black and red, you noticed as you worked on him, but you knew not to ask what the words said. She had found out more about you and had seen that you haven't met your soulmate yet.

-

About a month later you had met or patched up most of the Avengers, and Natasha and Clint were the closest to you, as well as Bruce since you saw the most of them. FRIDAY had alerted you that the Avengers were back from another mission gone bad, this time it was Sam Wilson who was hurt, he was unconscious, and his vitals were dropping fast. Steve and Bucky were running in after him, just as you got to work. You patted your scrubs down, the bright orange and pink Ombre was a bold choice but you wanted a splash of color against the white sterile walls of your lab and operating room, as the Avengers tended to let you do what you wanted.

You silently went to work, washing hands, pulling on gloves, and wordlessly grabbing what you need to save his life. You groaned aloud, grabbing the bandages and cauterizing tool, but you weren't able to do your job due to the two towering super-soldiers blocking your way. Unable to push them away from you instead opted to jump on top of the patient. Terrible procedure? Definitely. But you had two super soldiers that wouldn't move, and you had a patient dying.

Both men simultaneously cried out, "What the hell are you doing?"

You were already starting your cauterizing tool, cauterizing the artery that was the cause of the blood loss. "My job, if you don't let me do it, he'll die from blood loss. So, get out of my way!" You pushed one of the soldiers out of the way, Steve you think, grabbing the gauze and patching up Sam. Once you were finally done, you jumped off of him, he stabilized halfway through your work, so you hooked him up to an IV and stood back at your handiwork. You ripped your gloves off, tossing them away as you washed your hands. You froze, your mark was now a splash of color. Navy blue ink etched in silver and gold. That only meant one thing, one of the super-soldiers behind you was your soulmate. But they both said it at the same time, which one was your other half? Could you survive having an Avenger soulmate? You had patched them up enough to know how many close calls they tended to have.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" Of course, one of the very same men you were thinking about was concerned about your sudden shyness.

"I'm not quite sure, Captain Rogers," you turned back around. "Your friend will be alright, just needs to rest and heal, but he'll be fine." You smiled brightly at the two super soldiers looking at you warily.

Captain Roger's mark was already colored in, you could see the peaks of bright red just peeking out of his uniform. Sargent Barnes, however, didn't have any color peeking out of his right hand, and that's when you realized his mark might have been on his left wrist before it was torn off. That meant you had to outright ask the two intimidating men about their marks, something only children did.

"Are you sure you're okay, doll?" Barnes was the one that spoke up this time, both men weren't quite sure what to make of you. You were pushing them out of the way to do your job minutes ago but now seemed shy.

You took a deep breath, "There’s no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it, I think one of you two is my soulmate." You said it quickly, looking absolutely anywhere but them.

"What do you mean?" That time it was the Captain.

You exposed your wrist, the brilliant shades of Navy lined in gold and silver. The silver and gold seemed to shimmer, and even without their enhancements, both men could make out the writing. Both men shared a look, and you noticed you had gained an audience. Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Tony were now standing at the room, you were too preoccupied panicking to even notice their entrance to check in on the now waking up Falcon beside you.

"You two said those words and my mark gained color, one of you is my soulmate," a groan from beside you diverted your attention. You went to work, making sure Sam was comfortable as he started to become aware of his surroundings.

"I wake up and one of the fossils gets a soulmate? I should get injured more often, maybe they'll both get lives before I die," he joked in a weak voice.

"I have limited patience with someone who tried to get shot, Wilson," you rolled your eyes, checking to make sure he didn't rip his stitches as he sat up. "And you shouldn't be sitting up, you've lost a lot of blood," you tried reasoning, but he just waved you off.

"Na, I've got to see this. Aren't you the new doctor Tony hired? You're cute, too bad I'm not your soulmate, smart and pretty," he rambled on, the medication starting to kick in.

"I've been here for four months, you just manage not to get as many bullets in you like the others," you made sure his IV drip was working before turning to your audience.

Steve spoke up first, "It’s not me," he exposed his mark. "My soulmate was Peggy Carter," his mark was bright red, the color of bright lipstick. He had left his soulmate back in the forties, that had to suck.

His eyes went to Bucky, as did yours. He looked a little stunned. "Repeat what you first said to me," he said it softly, almost hesitant.

"Well, I can't remember! I was trying to make sure Birds of Justice here didn't die!" You gave him a pointed look, Sam laughed at that, and you shot him a glare, "No laughing, you'll rip your stitches and if you do something stupid I'll kick your ass myself."

"Oh, feisty, I like her," a loopy Sam Wilson giggled like a school girl beside you.

"FRIDAY, please repeat the audio of what Dr. Y/l/n said when Sam first came in," Natasha stated, making you roll your eyes.

"Nat, I'm just Y/n to you," you mumbled, but otherwise kept quiet, needing to know the answer to the riddle written in ink around your wrist.

"Certainly, Agent Romanoff," the AI replied before the audio played.

The two super soldiers’ voices rung out first, "What the hell are you doing?"

Before your voice replied in the audio, "My job, if you don't let me do it, he'll die from blood loss. So, get out of my way!"

You looked towards the former Winter Soldier. "Does Navy Blue, Silver and Gold mean anything to you, Sargent Barnes?" You held up your wrist, and he gently grabbed it with his right hand. His thumb brushed across the ink etched deep into your skin.

"Navy Blue was my uniform color when I was a Howling Commando, silver was the color of my first metal arm, and gold is currently in my metal arm. And call me Bucky," he held up the black and gold vibranium arm for you to inspect. "I always thought my soulmate would be a nurse during the war, one I flirted to at the wrong time, or got in the way one too many times. I guess I was partially right," he kept his voice soft, the two of you locking eyes.

"You're my soulmate? I never thought I'd find you," you mumbled softly, getting lost in his blue eyes.

"My left wrist had those words, and I lost it in the fall of the train, and I'm actually glad I did because Hydra couldn't find you that way, and I'm sorry you have me as a soulmate, and I'm sorry you can't even get to see the colors my mark would have, and-" he rambled on, making you smile, gently taking his hand and interlacing your hands together, promptly shutting him up.

"I'm not sad you’re my soulmate, Bucky. I was just confused is all. I had basically accepted I'd never find mine, I've had dull brown ink on me since I was thirteen. But it's you. I found you," you couldn't stop smiling up at him.

He gave you a bashful smile, "I'd like to think my mark would be the colors of your scrubs. Orange and pinks like a sunset," he explained.

"Or a sunrise," you spoke up, "New beginnings and all."

Natasha made a retching sound behind the two of you. "Absolutely adorable and disgusting. We'll watch over him, y/n, he's already falling asleep, and we'll have FRIDAY update you if needed. Go on break," she shooed you out of the room, Steve already tossing Bucky out with you, Sam making cooing noises behind you as he fell asleep. They shut the door, effectively giving you not much choice.

"Well, I guess that settles it," you turned to Bucky, who looked towards you a little skeptical. "Let me formally introduce myself, soulmate. I'm Dr. Y/n y/m/n y/l/n, but you can call me y/n/n." You put your hand out, your mark on full display.

He gave you a goofy smile in response, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles before kissing your wrist right over your mark. "Why hello, soulmate. I'm Sargent James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky."

-

Bucky Tags:

@cassandras-musings

-

For a tag, just reply/comment, if I don’t see it, just message me. Tell me what you think! Literally, any comment makes me happy! Like, comment, reblog, interact <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #My writing #soulmate!au

[akfanficlove]

“What if I remember?” - #SeblaineWeek2020

Written for Seblaine Week 2020 – Hurt/ comfort

Sebastian had proposed. A week later, he was in an accident, Blaine not knowing if he’d make it and remembering the day he went back to Dalton, met Sebastian again and – in the end – fell in love. This hurt so much when I was even just writing it but I love how it turned out.

 He remembers. He knows it happened, yet he can barely believe it. Why is he silently sitting in an uncomfortable chair next to beeping machines when he wants to scream at Sebastian to finally wake up? The hand that’s holding his boyfriend’s for dear life is sweaty. No, wait, not his boyfriend’s – his fiancé’s. It can’t be, it’s only been a week since Sebastian went down on one knee during their vacation in Paris.

Paris, where Sebastian had lived as a child and where he spent six months as an intern in college. Paris, where they wanted to go together after graduation, then after getting their first jobs, then after Blaine’s first show closed on Broadway.

Finally, 2 years after Sebastian had returned home to San Francisco, they finally went there and it was everything Blaine had dreamed about. They were strolling down the Seine late at night, eating crêpes and kissing under the Eiffel Tower, just like Sebastian had promised. And then, on their last night, Sebastian had insisted they’d go to this little restaurant in Montmartre that’s a cute café by day and a funky bar by night, even though they were both tired, so why exactly couldn’t they just order room service and go to bed?

Blaine knew why when Sebastian took his hand, his palms sweaty and shaking a little. “Blaine Anderson”, he said, “you are the most ridiculous person and a pain in my ass. But every day I wake up next to you and for a moment I am so in awe that you are still with me.”

His voice trembled a little and Blaine’s eyes started to fill with tears because, no, he couldn’t mean that, this couldn’t be… “You are stubborn and you drive me insane when I know there’s something bothering you but you brush me off like it’s fine. I hate it when you sing in the shower before I had my morning coffee and hate even more how I could never ever hate it when you’re singing because it’s beautiful. You have this smug smile when you know my arguments are better but your puppy eyes will make me give in anyways and we really need to talk about you not using them for evil purposes like having dinner with your strange public school friends you insist you like.”

Blaine gasps half-mockingly, half self-conscious (Sebastian might have a point about him using that method to get his way).

“All of this should have me running for my life as fast as I can, yet, you are in every way said puppy – one look, one smile and I’m done, Anderson. Actually, thinking about leaving you kind of leaves me shaking with fear because I might be able to survive without you but I would hardly call that living, so I’d really rather not.” Sebastian actually blushed and Blaine was about to yell “yes, I do!” before he even heard the question.

However, Sebastian got down on one knee, holding out a small velvet box with a beautiful simple silver ring with a row of very small black diamonds and asked Blaine to marry him right there in a little restaurant in Paris. It sounds cliché and cheesy but Blaine likes cheesy and he likes Paris and he likes the ring and, hell, yes, he wants to marry Sebastian! For a fraction of a second there’s an image in his head of the boy he used to love, the boy he thought he would marry one day and in another lifetime or universe maybe he would, would have proposed with a big romantic gesture and a moving speech, but here and now, he kissed Sebastian as he slid his finger through the ring.

At home, they threw a little get-together a few days later to break the news to their families and closest friends, both of them still basking in actually doing this, taking this next step together. They wanted to officially tell their fellow ex-Warblers, Blaine’s public school friends Sebastian pretends to dislike (although he knows Sebastian has a soft spot for Marley, likes playing video games with Sam and Sebastian’s relationship with Santana, founded on a deep respect for each other’s wit and snarky banter, Blaine will never understand) and a few other friends on a bigger party next saturday.

 Next saturday seems so far away right now. He doesn’t really know what happened, couldn’t listen to what the doctor told him a few hours ago when he stormed into the hospital after a call that began with “Mr. Blaine Anderson? You are the emergency contact for a Mr. Sebastian Smythe. I’m sorry to inform you that there was an accident…”

Everything is a blur now. He went where they told him to go. He moved when the nurses needed some space to change Sebastian’s IV-drip. He laid his head in the crook between Sebastian’s head and his shoulder, held his hand carefully, unable to say anything but “Please don’t leave me…”. He’s been like that for hours.

 It’s getting late and visiting hours are long over, one of the nurses obviously feels sorry for him, that’s the only explanation he has why he’s still allowed to be here. He really must look as awful as he feels. His whole body hurts when he moves to get up, not wanting to go but not wanting to cause any trouble for the lovely nurse who let him sit with Sebastian a little longer. He kisses Sebastian’s forehead. He knows, Sebastian doesn’t like this, feels like a little kid when he does it, and maybe Blaine does it on purpose to make Sebastian finally wake up. He remembers fragments now, that the doctor said something about “potential brain damage” and “we just need to give him a few hours, maybe a day or two” and Sebastian “being lucky”. He really wants to believe her, has a deep respect for doctors after seeing some of his friends like Wes and Jeff suffer through med school. So, he hopes she’s right and reluctantly let’s go off Sebastian’s hand.

 Turns out, going back to their apartment was not a good idea. Everything around him is Sebastian and when he’s finally in bed, the only thing he can think about is What if?

 What if Sebastian doesn’t wake up tomorrow?

What if he wakes up at night, now knowing where he is, what happened and looking for Blaine?

Or what if he wakes up not even knowing who Blaine is? What if what they had is gone now?

 Something in Blaine’s stomach doesn’t feel right and he needs to get it out one way or the other. He runs towards the bathroom and makes it just in time before he throws up his breakfast and some of the shitty coffee he had at the hospital. For the first time since the call, he allows himself to break down into tears. He sits on the cold tiles of their bathroom floor, grabbing his curls when the sob’s ripple through his body.

What if Blaine goes back tomorrow and they tell him, Seb will never wake up?

What if they ask him to decide to turn off the machines or believe in wonders?

Oh dear god, what if he actually dies?

 Usually, when Blaine is upset, he finds comfort in Seb’s arms and a solution for whatever problem in his analyzing way of thinking. Blaine gets up, washes out his mouth to get rid of the sour taste and makes his way back to the bedroom. He falls down on the mattress and curls up into a ball. He reaches for Sebastian’s pillow and hugs it tight, smelling the faint smell of the cologne he knows Blaine likes, and why? Why did it have to be Seb? Why now? Why doesn’t he wake up already?

Silent tears stream down Blaine’s face, memories flooding his brain: Sebastian laughing because Blaine’s very small mom was hugging him so tight when they told her about the engagement. Sebastian in Paris, the Eiffel Tower, the parks, the ring and his smile. Tears he tries to hide every time they watch “Moulin Rouge” or a Disney classic. Date nights in the park for the 4th July, sitting on a blanket watching the fire works explode over the Golden Gate Bridge. Little moments like them holding hands all the way back to the hotel with their National’s trophy. Their first kiss a few days later when Blaine burned his tongue on scalding hot coffee, Sebastian being there to soothe the ache. All the way back, Blaine’s first day back at Dalton, not officially attending classes yet but in his uniform anyway to try how it would feel. He remembers. He remembers Sebastian starstruck-expression and the hand on his back. He remembers the warmth that was partly because he was so excited to be back and partly because something stirred in his belly he didn’t dare name yet, not back then.

It’s that warmth he craves now. That warmth he wishes he could give Sebastian. He falls asleep with tears drying on his lashes, his body on Sebastian’s side of the bed. He sleeps restlessly but when he does, he dreams about that day at Dalton that changed everything.

 It’s 7 a.m. when he slowly wakes up, feeling even more exhausted than when he fell asleep. He just wants to shower and go back to the hospital. Before getting up, he looks at his phone, a little anxious to see a message from the hospital there telling him bad news although it’s a ridiculous thought. They would’ve called if something was wrong, right? Yeah. But they would’ve also called if Seb had woken up, a bitter voice in his head tells him.

After the shower and getting dressed he dials the hospitals number where they tell him visitors were not allowed sooner than 8:30 which leaves Blaine with one more hour to ki– to spend. What he wanted to say is a bad, bad word. A bad, bad word he purposely doesn’t use, afraid he might jinx something. Blaine huffs. Sebastian would so make fun of this, of how Blaine behaves when the doctor’s prognosis was that he would be fine and Blaine wishes more than anything for Sebastian to come home and make fun of him. He’d gladly take a life full of rolling eyes, half-smiles and shaking heads if it meant that Sebastian would just be fine. He loves this man and no God would be cruel enough to take him from him, right?

 Blaine sits down on the couch, completely ready with his shoes on and watches to clock on the wall on the left side of their TV tick. He unlocks his phone and scrolls through his pictures.

There are a lot from Paris, one of them in front of the Louvre – it didn’t stop raining this whole day. One of Sebastian in a small café with a French newspaper and an espresso. One of him kissing Sebastian’s cheek out of a sudden and Sebastian’s eyes wide in surprise from when they finally made it up the hill to Sacré-Cœur and enjoyed the view.

Then there are other pictures. Sebastian with his arms slung over Hunter’s and Beat’s shoulder on the night of their housewarming party for their offices of the advertisement agency the founded together. Sebastian, Kitty and Marley dancing on Sam’s birthday party last year, his boyfr– his fiancé’s tie undone and probably too many buttons of his shirt open to be appropriate. Yet, they seemed like they didn’t have a care in the world. A picture of Sebastian and him hugging in front of a huge poster of Blaine’s face on Blaine’s opening night on Broadway. It’s the look in Seb’s face, so proud, so in love, so excited that has Blaine’s heart breaking a little and makes tears sting in his eyes. His thumb brushes over their faces. “Seb, you can’t leave me now…”, he whispers although no one’s there that could hear him.

How he made it to the hospital, he has no idea. His whole body aches and it’s getting worse the closer he gets to the room door. When Blaine opens it, he actually stops breathing, only to let it out in a deep sigh when he finds Sebastian in exactly the same position as he was yesterday. “He looks so fragile”, Blaine thinks and he wants to do nothing but hold his boy in his arms. Maybe that’s why he dismisses the chair and lays down next to Sebastian, curled into his body, careful not to accidently pull out the IV-drip. How often he had found himself in almost exactly this position when they were cuddling in bed after an orgasm or when Blaine’s had this awful cold last winter. Blaine cups Sebastian’s cheek and stroked lightly. During the 5 days of the cold when he thought he might actually die, Sebastian kept him company in bed when he could, took a few days off of work to take care of him, brought him soup and water and tea and advil. And he sang to him, Blaine remembers, the memory might be a little fuzzy but he remembers his soft voice in his ear grounding him. So Blaine starts singing softly, if only to help Sebastian ground himself:

 “I still love you

I still want you

I still need you

After all.

For better or worse

Sickness and health

Till death do us part

After all.

Please don’t leave me…”

 It must be hours since Blaine has arrived. His voice is starting to get hoarse, his face is wet from tears Blaine couldn’t stop from falling and he feels exhausted. When the song is over, he burries his face in Sebastian’s neck and breathes in before getting up. He needs to go to the bathroom and even though he’s not hungry, he knows he should get something to eat. Before he turns to leave the room he leaves a lingering kiss against Sebastian’s forehead and mumbles “I’ll be right back…”. He walks towards the door.

“You know I hate it when you do that, B.”

Blaine stops in his tracks. He’s afraid to turn back around. What if his brain is playing tricks on him? What if he’s sleep-deprieved and going crazy?

“Makes me feel like a child.”

Blaine turns. Deep green is looking at him. There’s a crocked smile on a beautiful face and Blaine rushes back to the bed and grabs this handsome face. He doesn’t feel the tears of relief but he feels the chains that suffocated him burst in his chest, suddenly it’s easier to breath again. He doesn’t hear himself whisper his name again and again in awe. But he does feel it when Sebastian turns his head a little and winces but kisses his palms.

“Hey…”

Blaine blinks. “Hi… oh my god, Seb, you scared me so much!” He launches himself into his fiancé’s arms with an “I love you” but scrambles to his feet when he hears him groan in pain. “Shit, I’m sorry, Seb, I’m so, so sorry. Wait, let me get a nurse or a doctor, fuck, you must be in so much pain and I– I’m just so glad, you’re awake…” He wipes tears and snot away with the back of his right hand. Sebastian is awake. He’s awake.

Sebastian just smiles at him. “It’s okay, B, I’m okay, I’m fine. I don’t need a doctor, not right now.” He grab’s Blaine’s hand. “Why don’t you lay down again?” He scoots over and Blaine obliges, raveling in the feeling of Seb’s finger’s lacing through his curls. He’s awake.

“Oh, Blaine?” – “Mhm?” – “We have to postpone the party. I am so not giving Hunter the satisfaction of showing up with bruises on this usually perfect mark of beauty…”

Blaine just rolls his eyes and hugs Sebastian tighter even though he hears him hissing in obvious discomfort. Good. That’ll teach Sebastian to never, ever scare Blaine like that again. “I swear to God, Seb, if you ever scare me like that again, I’ll burn your French vintage-writing desk without batting an eye.”

#seblaine week 2020 #seblaine #2020 #blaine anderson #sebastian smythe #sebastian x blaine #hurt #hurt/ comfort

[iamtheprotagoneil]

@cutekitten6 okay let’s do this (reading through your tags on my posts is my one of my favorite things to do since i made this blog btw. you’re so precious. i appreciate you a lot, dude!)

#bruh the pure romance of their name meanings man #nolan really out here playing us lmaooo #but yo yeah neil introducing himself to protag with his real name #goes against what we saw established with clemence posey's character having strict division boundaries #to keep their identities hidden #even ives and wheeler could be pseudonyms because they are professionals who know the dangers #but neil? #neil just wants for his beloved to know his real name #when he sees him again #because you know when older protag sees young neil #neil def would flirt with him and not think twice about giving him his real name #regardless of whether he searched for tenet or was brought in #neil is just a sappy love bug like that wow #iamtheprotagoneil (via)

i think when it comes to neil, the protagonist was always willing to bend the rules a little. he would allow neil to use his real name - middle name or whatever you hc it as, really - because in his head, he couldn’t really think of neil with any other name (like us, really). he must have spent days, weeks, months even, obsessing over this one guy that showed up to save his life, then ultimately died for him. he called him neil so much in his own head as he went through the mission again, that he just couldn’t imagine calling neil as anything else. so he’d allow neil to use his real name, because the protagonist relied on it just as much.

and, god, neil would definitely flirt, but i don’t think he genuinely meant it – or at least, he didn’t mean it at first. he started out as just a way to get close to the protagonist. he put on this charming persona, always smiling with an alluring gleam in his eyes that he knew people wouldn’t be able to resist. he insisted on using his real name because he wanted to build a foundation of trust between him, wanted the protagonist to let him in – in ways that neil knew he wouldn’t with other agents, or people in general – so neil could finally figure him out.

and the protagonist allowed him all of it, easily. sure, he wouldn’t have access to any classified information, but the protagonist still trusted him with much more than he did any regular tenet agent. neil still held some doubts, but the closer they got, said doubts began to wade and wane. it was something in the way the protagonist’s said neil’s name – with warm, with familiarity, with a certain sort of affection that neil was beginning to catch for himself.

so yeah, neil flirted, at first, with hidden intention, but as it went on, it became less about getting a clue into the protagonist, and more about getting the protagonist all for himself.

#hmmmmm yeah #im actually now thinking about this #and what if its sorta both #what if neil is his middle name #and he usually goes by his first name but changed it to his middle because #1. job security in tenet is top priority #but also #2. the first time protag sees neil again and neil is shiny and new #he calls him neil (either as a 'do i know you" shtick) #(which makes neil think hes flirting with him) #(or in a breathy realisation that neil just so happened to hear and turned around being like yeH?) #and neil just decided that yup neil is what I'll go by now (via)

okay, listen....... what if, neil was the name the protagonist gave to him? what if, after neil recovered from his test – dying in some way for a mission, refusing to give up any information pertaining it and his teammates, just like the protagonist once did – the protagonist met with neil, and just casually, unthinkingly, called him neil.

neil would pause, looking at him strangely because the protagonist must have known his name already, must have read it on the files they had on neil. he didn’t voice his question, but the protagonist still saw it in his expression, in the confusion passing through his gaze.

“that’s your name, from now on,” the protagonist explained, in addition with what priya had once told him, that they needed the secrecy to protect not just themselves but also the mission they would go on. then, he added, a bit for forlorn, “if you don’t like it, you can pick another one.”

he said it, and there was nothing in his expression or his voice that betrayed his words, but somehow, neil could still hear the hesitant, the way the protagonist didn’t actually mean it – was hoping against it. neil watched him for a moment, trying to gauge more than what could very well be a delusion on his own parts, before shaking his head.

“no,” he said, titling his head a little, considering, “neil’s fine, i think.”

the protagonist didn’t exactly exhale in relief, but the relief passing was unmistakable. neil smiled, didn’t mention it, only thinking about how the road ahead of him would be so interesting.

(there’s just no shortage of ways we could go about this. n*lan handed us a giant sandbox that we can mess with as we please lmao)

#HAHAHAHAHA #i wanted to point this out in the fic you wrote out of my kat jealousy ask #because you wrote that neil left his older protag two weeks before he died #and i was like HMMMM THAT DOESNT SEEM RIGHT BUT ILL TAKE IT (via)

lkfjsdlkfjsdlkfj BRO THE SHAME. that was a giant bruh moment for me, goddamn. honestly competely forgot about that science mumbo-jumbo, only focused on protagoneil ripsdlfkjslkdjfsldkfj i’mma go back and fix that part of the fic later, right now that screenplay really needs a good reading 🙈

#bruh for some reason this gives me doctor who/river song vibes #not like i didnt have those vibes the moment the movie ended for me the first time lmao (via)

yeah, my friend chris directed me to river song/the doctor because i don’t watch doctor who and all i got to say is 😭😭😭😭😭😭

#BRUH I MADE A PROTAGONEIL COLLAB PLAYLIST A WHILE AGO #PLEASE ADD THIS TO IT IF YOURR INTERESRED HMU BECAUSE YO (via)

bro where can i find this playlist? i’ve been looking for some good songs that would fit these two for a while now. only that song by labrinth truly hits all the points for me.

#cutekitten6 #replies #protagoneil #tenet #y'all really got me talking about a few names for multiple posts huh? #i ain't complaining but goddamn there's just so much to talk about #so many possibilities #n*lan threw tenet at us and we just gotta make up the character traits since there was barely any in the movie skdjfsdlfkjklj #*my ramblings