#and so I dusted off my Photoshop and this happened at last

[snowyh2o]

Ok, so I think I’m finally sufficiently bored enough and have enough time on my hands to do this.

First post of the planned six ??? I have in mind dedicated to analyzing (every frame he’s in) Alastor and whatever his deal is in each of the episodes he shows up in!

Part 1 of Episode 1!

So let’s start right away with Episode 1! (I am skipping the pilot for now, because the characterization of his character has changed some. Particularly how he presents himself to Charlie and how he acts around Vaggie.)

First time we hear about Alastor is Vaggie mentioning he had something he wanted to show Charlie and Vaggie. This implies that while the two may have asked him to make the TV ad, he does seem eager to show off his work. And that they probably haven’t asked how much of the ad he’s finished.

First time we see Alastor is during his little TV ad!

He’s actually walking around Hell holding a camera and recording the ongoings of the sinners there, most likely what’s literally happening down the street from the hotel.

Notably, none of the demons start running away in fear, instead they all just look. Really confused.

More of them do pop out of the rubble when he starts speaking.

All of them do appear to be listening. Even the guy who was getting beat up.

Looks like he interrupted a turf war of some kind, or was recording in a place that hadn’t recovered from the extermination. Or a combination of both, this was likely recorded within 5 days of the last extermination.

When his hand appears in front of the camera the video glitches slightly.

There’s a messy static filled cut when he pans over to the hotel, so probably recorded the hotel’s image separately. Or while panning he caught himself in the camera by accident and couldn't be bothered to fix/redo it.

All the other shots of the hotel members are very clearly candid ones. So Alastor waking around the hotel recording everyone is canon, btw (someone make a comic or fic about the hotel members asking why he’s walking around recording them).

When he’s recording Charlie, Angel Dust pops up to give her 4 bunny ears and Alastor shifts the camera just slightly more to the left to recenter Charlie and push Angel a bit further out of the frame lol

He says “founded by Lucifer’s delusional daughter 5 days ago!” Which means he, at the very least, did the voice over 5 days after the hotel’s opening/extermination day, and 2 days before he shows Charlie and Vaggie the finished product. Probably spent all that time editing the whole thing lol.

Next shot of Charlie seems to have been a clip of her failed attempt at advertising the hotel’s opening from the pilot.

The next clip is actually very well edited together. It’s a still image of the hotel in the background while photos of Charlie are placed over top of it. So we know he either edited those photos to slide onscreen and added the little fwhip noise of photos being placed, or he green-screened that scene on a table and cleaned it up that you couldn’t tell it was green screened.

Also how did he get those photos? Were they just lying around?? Did he photoshop them???

By this point it’s clear he’s doing a voice over for his ad, so we don’t know if what he said at the beginning to all those sinners are what we hear in the ad, or if he was spouting off nonsense to grab their attention lol

The remaining shots of the hotel and the residents are longer clips, but also just so happen to capture the worst state the hotel is in (Husk collapsing onto the bar counter, a rafter? Beam falling and crashing onto the parlor table, Angel Dust being so done with Alastor’s bullshit he’s giving the camera a middle finger.) this implies that Alastor was either waiting around for the perfect shot, orchestrated those events himself, or by complete coincidence filmed it once and it was just Like That.

These shots are also interspersed with bold full cap messages that follow the narration he’s doing. Definitely edited in, and very reminiscent of those old informercial ads. Also the little spins and borders and sound effects and WOW.

And the fun little background music playing the entire ad.

Never caught this on the first watch through, but all the shots where Alastor’s actually recording with a camera are always slightly unsteady, like he’s doing it with a handheld recorder. Which means the shots where it’s not wobbling slightly weren’t recorded by him. Which means he actually did edit in those photos and that sound effect.

He keeps the sound of the camera zooming in and out. Actually, he didn’t edit out any of the original sound from the videos. You can hear Nifty very quietly go “Staby stab!” And the sound of the wood beam crashing into the table.

The clip of his drawing was recorded. He’s holding a camera up to the drawing instead of just taking a picture of it. You can tell because the camera slides around a little.

Lots of fun things on the drawing!

Looks like he drew the hotel on some clean, new paper, then cut it out to tape it onto something older and with a Danger: Authorized Personnel Only sign on it. Which was then stained with blood. Somehow. Or he cut out someone else’s drawing of the hotel.

There’s a lot of detail in the drawing, it looks surprisingly good, but the coloring is very low effort.

Actually, I think he stole someone else’s drawing. The handwriting for the sign on the hotel is slightly different to the one that’s scribbled everywhere else. The drawing is also done with a much finer pen than Alastor’s notes. He might’ve colored it tho, and added the little red lights to the radio tower lol

He stuck smiley face stickers all over the paper, and then drew bigger sharper smiles on them.

Sale, 50% off, $1

Ship! I guess

The sticky note with “No tacky circus decor! I promise”

“Neat”

“HOTEL!!!”

“Haha I named it!”

“Best part!” Points to the radio tower that definitely looks like he just slapped it onto the side of the building.

All his notes are written in capital letters, the handwriting isn’t bad, but it is uneven. Hard to tell if he did it on purpose or if that’s just his handwriting. They are also, for the most part, written slanted instead of straight, which is an interesting detail.

The final shot of the ad is a pan-up of the hotel. This time the camera remains steady the whole way up and even as it stops to focus on the hotel’s sign. Which we know is still a recording because the lights are flickering. This means the guy finally pulled out a camera stand or something and used it for the final shot.

Call now! Or don’t! We still don’t have a working phone!

The voice he does for the TV ad is slightly different to his normal speaking voice. I can’t tell if it’s because the filter is stronger in the ad, or if it’s because he’s actively putting on an advertisement voice, but something about the intonation or inflection sounds distinctly different when we cut back to reality and Alastor speaks normally.

Best thing about all this is how the low effortness of the ad is 100% on purpose. He could summon up an entire recording studio cast complete with all the necessary equipment. He's choosing to make it look unprofessional (and then did an absurd amount of editing for it all anyways).

Holy shit how did that get so long. What have I gotten myself into

Anyways! Alastor worked very hard on his ad, despite how low effort it seems at first. It took him like, a week to finish. And he did it all by hand/himself.

Like, guys. This is Alastor. Self proclaimed hater of all things technological after the 1930s. Made a fully edited— with music, visuals and sound effects— video advertisement for the hotel because Charlie and Vaggie “insisted” he make (a TV ad) one.

It’s well made too. 100% captured the tone he was going for. I have no idea why they didn’t like it lol

.....so I had less time than I thought I did. Gonna have to post the rest of the episode 1 analysis later.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #Character analysis #hazbin hotel meta #long post #frame by frame analysis #episode 1 analysis #part 1 #this got real long real fast

[honeystwiggypeach]

Could you do something along the lines of Mattsukawa introducing his very pregnant girlfriend to his friends and they are all shocked. They thought you were made up since they never met her (maybe she has a hectic work schedule and the timing just never happened).

You go out for drinks with them (obviously you aren't drinking) and they tell you so many embarassing stories about Mattsun and by the end of the night it's like you're one of gang, Mattsun feels happy knowing you and his friends get along well.

Omg bestie??? I love this, y’all are so smart you guys have just so many great ideas like what??😭tysm for requesting and sharing your idea!!! This is so great I’m gonna melt into a puddle rn🥰😭if anyone wants to see more or anything else let me know because I literally love requests so much!!

I did make reader work at the same funeral home as Mattsun because I’d assume that’s how they met when in college!

Tw- cursing, drinking, pregnant reader, baby is refered to as being small(in comparission to a newborn when she’s still in the womb by Mattsun because I suck at coming up with funny things😞) let me know if I missed anything!!

Whenever Matsukawa told any of his friends about you they’d exchange a look that said, “really? This again?” As much as he hated it their wasn’t much he could do to prove them wrong.

He showed them photos of you but they told him you had to be photoshopped in because no way in hell he’d been dating you since your freshman year of college and they still hadn’t met you.

“Guys, y/n’s pregnant…I’m gonna be a dad” he told them over drinks one night, you were fine with him going out at night since you’d have to cover night shifts for wakes sometimes and than other times paperwork would pile up from the director not doing their job. Other nights that you didn’t manage wakes, Mattsun did, for a long time, the only time you two saw eachother was at work and it sucked ass.

Though now that you’re on maternity leave, you’re finally able to spend time with your fiancé and meet his friends!

So of course when Issei brought up the idea of going to a bar and grill with his friends you were on board, “just to be clear you cannot drink” he repeats and you raise a brow.

“Clearly not Issei” you place your hands on your baby bump, you were nearing eight months pregnant and hadn’t thought of touching a lick of alcohol since you’d found out you were pregnant.

Of course when he walked in with you wrapped around his arm very clear belly on display he could hear Oikawa, Iwaizumi and Hanamaki chattered in disbelief.

He’s got a smug smile on his face as he helps you take off your sweater and purse before sitting down.

“I told you she was real!” Oikawa mutters slapping Iwaizumi’s shoulder lightly.

After introductions go around Maki is the first to ask, “so he’s like really gonna be a dad?”

You giggle softly and they can all see why Issei fell for you, “yea, feels like we’re gonna have her any day now” isseis eyes widen in worry.

“We still have two more months?”

“An expression baby” you smile sweetly and he lets out a sigh of relief.

Issei was telling the truth and from what it seems? He’d found the perfect person to balance him out.

After a few drinks and a few cups of water for you, Issei is excusing himself to the bathroom.

“Oh my god, y/n! While he’s gone let me tell you!” Tooru is a little tipsy, you can tell by the way a light pink dusts his cheek and every now and than he has to pause and lean his head against Iwa’s shoulder to catch himself.

“One time in highschool, Mattsun he” you listen to the way Oikawa wheezes before he can even finish the story.

This went on for the whole ten minutes that your fiancé was on the bathroom alternating between Tooru and Maki while Hajime their designated driver lets out occasionally snorts or adds onto their drunk retelling of events.

“Last week we went to the doctors,”you giggle a little at the memory before hearing the chair scrape against the floor.

Issei had been watching the four of you chat for a bit and he was glad you were getting along, ecstatic even, but he really didn’t need you to tell the guys that every time he went for an appointment with you he’d asked if the baby was full sized yet only to find out that she was still not the size of a newborn baby instead of just googling the size of a baby at certain gestations, in his defense he had no clue that’s how it worked.

Let me know if you guys want to see more or anything else because I love writing requests so much!!!!

#anons #requests #reader insert #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyuu parents #haikyuu dads #mom!reader #dad!matsukawa x pregnant!reader #dad!matsukawa x reader #dad!matsukawa #matsukawa x pregnant!reader #matsukawa x reader

[evilmagician430]

concept art/character design for an acachalla centric horror story i've been brainstorming since last school year ^_^ still havent finalized any of these designs, i feel like they need a little more tweaking...

WARNING: blood, body horror, the mangled corpse of a dead animal, guns, crowbars, medical equipment and general medical imagery, and all around just weird and gross stuff

ADDITIONAL WARNING: really fucking long

story and images under the cut:

i imagine the premise is that sue, at the police station, gets a call from the acachallas like in canon. she decides to go to their house to help, alone because her coworkers are all busy/hate her (theyve been in the force long enough to go corrupt while sue still tries to do whats right)

when she goes in she discovers that the acachallas have been dead for like 10 years and their bodies are barely even intact. she also notices that their house is trashed, not only does it seem completely reclaimed by nature, covered in fungus and insects and blood, but a lot of their furniture and appliances are missing. their rooms look like theyre missing all that wouldve signaled the character of whomever inhabited it, and she thinks, well, maybe the house was looted after they died, but that doesn't explain who called...

then she accidentally steps in a pile of fungus. which wasnt there before. she turns around and a man, fully formed, has sprouted out of the ground. he is made almost entirely out of mushrooms and he has 2 shotguns for arms. he tells her to leave his house. she starts to run but then another figure stops her. a very tall woman who speaks in the same voice that called the police department. her form is indiscernible in the dark, but soon sue comes to realize this woman is not human.

she's not even alive.

sue meets the others and, sure enough, they all seem to be amalgamations of various household objects, both inorganic and organic matter, forming crude fascimiles of who they once were. there are 5 bodies and 5 of them, so they must be possessed by the immortal spirits of the acachallas...!

of course, it turns out they never needed help. it was merely a trap to lure sue home.

they accept her and care for her far more than her biological family or "friends" at work ever did. but being with them takes a toll on sue's body. eventually she dies and they build a new body for her. she wakes up as a beautiful monster. she wakes up as herself.

you're going to notice none of these drawings are of sue- that's because she's still just a regular human in this. by the end she might become a horrifying monster like the rest of them, but i havent designed her.

i took inspiration from a variety of sources, but i can only remember some of them off the top of my head:

undertale (lorewise the whole thing about monsters dust being spread on their favorite object so they can live in it, also photoshop flowey designwise was a huge inspiration)

deltarune (largely just the enemy designs)

dont hug me i'm scared (the teacher's designs, general vibes, also lamp's explanation of what happens when someone dies in episode 2 of the tv show)

tipping point (literally just stylistically. i need to learn digital collage to properly portray these designs)

tokusatsu (the costumes for the gorma in gosei sentai dairanger are like. really good. i enjoy their designs severely)

communications era ghost and pals mvs (the collage stuff speaks to my soul)

and thats all i can remember rn. now heres the first pictures i drew of each member of the family (on my world history notes) and the most recent draft of their designs (in mspaint) this is basically all of the drawings of them.

beginning with spencer, he's the smallest of the family at only 4 feet tall. he is made out of his computer and manga collection basically. on each of these i left a lot of notes in the pictures breaking down what each part of the body is made out of. i wanted to incorporate figurines and action figures into his design too but i decided to keep it more focused. but all these designs are still subject to change. a teacher walked by as i was drawing him and said she liked how it was "very industrial but feminine" or something like that.

sally! im not entirely sure what that first sketch is but as you can tell i wanted her to be wearing a doll mask from the start. i gave her this big poofy princess dress to conceal where godzilla connects to the shelves that act as her legs because it looked very strange and did not look like the shelves were her legs. the dress turns into curtains which are draped over her shelves. she was very hard to design but very fun. also i just chose random dolls and stuff i know g3 draculaura and kylie and pnp sasha are like recent dolls that wouldnt exist yet. its a mockup ok

next we got billy who is built out of his own medical supplies. i wanted to make his body one of those IV drip stands, although that means both him and spencer have very similar lower halves, with the wheels. hes the only one who doesnt really wear any clothes because billy doesnt really have an iconic outfit; the only thing i remember he wears is obviously his medic outfit but thats like. a whole outfit. i dont understand the layers of it so i can just put part of it on this thing. maybe i shouldve just given him scrubs. or what i think billy would wear that represents him

gertrude having a dead cat as her hair is a reference to a really specific one-off joke i read about on the wiki but dont actually remember from any of the videos. i think hair is a very important part of self expression so they would want to recreate their hairstyles with whatever they could find. it was hard as hell getting that cat into a shape that made literally any sense but i think i figured it out. her outfit is a combination of what she normally wore and her old costume as the crowbar, which i was inspired to design my version of as well (will post that drawing later). i think its very interesting how gertrude seems to exist to trap and keep safe or detain/kill various dangerous beings. shes like a shepherd but also an executioner.

papa acachalla doesnt have a draft cause this was literally the first time i tried drawing him in this story because i was stuck on trying to imagine what hed be made out of and how he would look like. then i remembered fungus comes in all shapes and forms and also works as a metaphor for his connection with his family and his roots. also his arms are guns LOL! i wanted to make him more catholic but i couldnt come up with how while still having him look like papa acachalla. maybe adding that priest collar cause i think father grigori has it anyways but its hard to draw stuff around his neck area.

#venturiantale #taleblr #evilmartin430.txt #images that are horrid to see and look at #dont ask me where jeremy and maxwell and maddie and the extended family fit into this... idk enough about them to design them as monsters #also maddie isnt really a family member. unless you think shes really gertrude's sister #concept art #character design #horror #body horror #horror story #horror au #acachalla house of horrors #<== tag specifically for stuff pertaining to this story #mspaint #sue acachalla #spencer acachalla #sally acachalla #billy acachalla #gertrude acachalla #papa acachalla #campy horror #<== the vibe im going for #if this was a live action thing itd definitely use practical effects and #the costumes (?) would be insane #imagine building them in real #aoughhhh #ok done screaming

[authortobenamedlater]

Solid State

@ageless-aislynn commented on my last fic that Cortana needs all the hugs. I agree! And I wouldn’t be doing my job as a diligent fic writer if I didn’t ensure this happens, now would I?

This has been sitting in my head for a long time. Started with a photoshop job I saw on tumblr and can’t find anymore of the face touch scene with Cortana in Makee’s place. Ended with me seeing Aislynn’s comment, thinking “I already sort of did that in “Dust and Echoes” and then thinking “but why shouldn’t I do it again?”

I’m keeping this here for now since I miiiiiight add it or some version of it to another fic idea one day. It’s also totally overdone and self-indulgent. I rolled my eyes at myself more than once writing this. Title subject to change.

I naturally had the show in mind here, but it’s ambiguous enough to work for either universe.

Tagging @morganas-pendragons too! And anyone else who wants to be tagged in my fic let me know!

—

There was solid ground under her face.

Cortana instinctively opened her eyes to look.

Wait. I don’t have eyes.

She blinked.

Or maybe I do.

Not just eyes. Cortana began to notice various sensations: ground under her legs, her arms, her hands. Hair brushing against her neck and face. Fabric on her body.

I have a body?

Cortana pushed herself to her knees and looked at her hands.

My hands. She flexed her fingers and ran her hands down her arms. Her jumpsuit looked the way it always had, but now it was real. Cloth and seams and thread she could touch.

Cortana lifted her hands to her face. Do I look the same? She had no way of knowing. She could feel eyes, eyebrows, eyelashes. Nose and mouth. Cheeks and jaw. Teeth and lips and tongue. Her skin felt smooth, like…like what? She had almost no basis for comparison.

Cortana brought a lock of hair in front of her eyes. Black. That’s the same. She tugged the soft strands through her fingers and let her hands move to her ears, then her neck, then her shoulders, down her front.

She stood and lifted her knees experimentally. She wiggled her toes inside her boots. Cortana had felt all these sensations in John’s body, but this was different. This body was hers.

But how?

“Cortana?”

The familiar voice made Cortana turn so quickly she almost fell.

Opposite her stood John, clad in his fatigues, looking every bit as bewildered as she was.

He looked down at himself. “Where’s my armor?” He looked at Cortana. “What are you doing here?”

What was either of them doing here? Cortana didn’t know. She also had a more pressing—or at least more answerable—question.

Can I touch him?

Cortana took a few tentative steps forward and put her fingertips on John’s chest. She was almost afraid he would disintegrate, like her hologram disappearing.

He didn’t. He looked down at her hands, then at her. “Are you…?”

So this is what it feels like. Inexplicably emboldened, Cortana flattened her palms and leaned her forehead against John’s breastbone.

“Cortana?” John asked again. He hadn’t made any move to return her touch. “What is this?”

“Whatever it is, don’t ruin it.” Cortana slid her arms around his back.

John was warm. Oh, he was so warm. And solid. Paradoxically, it made Cortana shiver. She pressed her ear to his chest and listened to his heart.

She’d monitored John’s heart rate for years, but to hear and feel it for herself…she couldn’t explain it.

Is he going to hug me back? Cortana felt embarrassed suddenly. Had she pushed him too far? Did he not want to hug her? Had she broken some rule—

Before Cortana could finish her thought, John’s hands grazed her back and shoulders. Then his arms wrapped tighter around her. A strange rush of relaxation washed over Cortana’s new body and she all but melted into the embrace.

No wonder physical contact was such a powerful need for humans.

Cortana almost whimpered when John pulled back just enough to look at her. He swept her hair off her forehead and behind her left ear.

She gave him a quizzical look and he shrugged sheepishly. “It was in your eye.”

“Do I look the same?” Cortana blurted.

“You’re not blue.”

She made a face. “Remember what I said about not ruining it?”

John quirked a smile. “Yeah.” He brushed his fingers over her hair again. “You look the same.”

The affection in his voice and touch made Cortana’s eyes brim with tears.

“Cortana.” John brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. “What’s wrong?”

Wrong? How could anything be wrong? I’ve never felt so safe.

“Nothing.” Cortana burrowed into his embrace again. “I’ve just wanted to do this for so long.”l

The admission seemed to break something loose and John’s hold tightened like a vise. Cortana adjusted her arms to wrap around his neck as he sank to his knees. He flattened her against him, his hands running across her shoulders, down her back, through her hair, like he was trying to commit every facet of her to memory.

“John?” Cortana gasped.

“Yeah?”

She’d wanted him to hug her back, but….

“I can’t breathe.”

John chuckled softly and loosened his Spartan-strength grip. “Better?”

“Just don’t let go,” Cortana begged hastily. She’d been scared to touch him, and now she was scared to stop.

“I won’t.” John buried his face in her shoulder and took a long breath. His next words etched themselves into her mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time, too.”

—

In an ending/tag scene I have yet to write, Cortana keeps the new hairstyle. We all know she can edit her appearance, right? ❤️

I alternately picture them on the ring as we see on the show and in a setting like the end of Halo 4.

#halo #fanfiction #halo the series #halo paramount #halo tv #halo tv show #halo paramount+ #fanfic #halo fic #halo 4 #halo fanfic by atbnl #cortana #john 117 #master chief #master chief x cortana #John 117 x cortana #i swore i’d never write this #halo tv fanfic by atbnl

[heroesrolli]

Pixelstick shuts off early

#Pixelstick shuts off early how to#

#Pixelstick shuts off early full#

#Pixelstick shuts off early iso#

#Pixelstick shuts off early download#

The D780 image quality at 12,800 is outstanding, and is definitely usable at 25,600. The image quality seems similar to or better than the Nikon Z 6, which is noticeably better than the D750 I’ve been using for several years. Have you used the D780? - J.M.Ī: The short answer: I’ll definitely be buying one.

#Pixelstick shuts off early iso#

Q: My Canon 6D has been pushed to its limits and I’m seeing too much ISO noise, so I’m looking into changing over to Nikon. So you will not have the metadata in Lightroom that identifies the lens or which aperture was used for the photographs. There is one major downside, however, which may or may not matter to you: It does not have electronic contacts. And I have an extra stop of light when I need it. It beat my Zeiss Distagon (gasp!) in regard to coma. The chromatic aberrations can be easily removed, but I chose not to remove them for what were just test images.) (Note: These are totally unedited photos. The gray zoom boxes are exaggerated zooms at 800-plus percent to show the actual shapes of stars. The star-field boxes are 100 percent crops.

#Pixelstick shuts off early download#

To see a technical test I did, download and open these files in Photoshop and zoom to 100 percent. It’s an incredibly small, light, fast and sharp lens.Īt f/2.8, the coma almost disappears, and at f/4 it’s totally gone. What do you know about this lens/company? Quality? Performance? Any info? - Terry K. I saw this lens on the B&H Photo website: Venus Optics Laowa 15mm f/2 FE Zero-D for Nikon Z. Q: I have the Nikon Z 6 and am looking for a wide-angle lens that I can use for night photography. When it is high in the sky, you are viewing it through a single layer of atmosphere, which is why it is almost always white. When the moon is just rising, you are viewing it through hundreds of miles of atmosphere. The color in the moon is completely dependent on atmospheric conditions––the amount of dust, moisture or pollution in the air. By about 20 minutes after sunset, the exposure difference between the moon and the landscape is too great to capture in a single image. But I generally prefer a moonrise about 10 to 15 minutes after sunset, when the exposure balances nicely between the moon and the soft light on the land. If you want a warm glow on the landscape, look for a moonrise that’s just before sunset. The “best” time for moon photography depends on the effect you are looking for, and the landscape where you are photographing.

#Pixelstick shuts off early full#

You can use PhotoPills or a website like to find out the date of the full moon each month, and then check the sunset and sunrise times within a couple of days of the full moon. The moon rises about 45 to 55 minutes later each day during its 28-day cycle, but the sunset time varies by only a minute or two. In some months, the best timing may be one day before or after the full moon. The exact times vary quite a bit-by up to as much as an hour, depending on the exact timing of the full moon. (The opposite, for both cases, is true of the new moon.) Either way is a good way to shoot the moon near the horizon during soft light. The full moon does, however, set at sunrise. How can I plan this easier? And when will the moon still have a pinkish glow-when it beats the sun in rising, or when the sun beats it in setting? - A.B.Ī: The full moon always rises near sunset, never at sunrise.

#Pixelstick shuts off early how to#

Unfortunately I did not see how to get an easy answer to when there would be another full moon rising while the sun is setting, so I reverted to tedious data lookup. I tried to find out when this may happen again. Q: Last year when driving home I passed a small lake that had a huge red/pink full moon rising over it.

#Pixelstick shuts off early

[therkildsenbjerre7]

replica birkin bag 1

The Way To Spot Pretend Hermes Birkin Baggage The lock is lined with high quality Silver tone material . This black Birkin measures 30cm width, 22cm peak and 16cm deep.Without hermes stamp and emblem. Another purpose why it is tough to purchase a Hermes Birkin bag is as a result of, you may be required by the Hermes company to buy different gadgets and all have to be a minimum of $50,000. Hermes Rose Tyrien Birkin 30cm of Ostrich with palladium hardware. Ostrich is sturdy and holds it shape on the Birkin, which is why collectors adore it so much. A smooth leather-based belt with double g buckle.our belts are in italian sizes, please refer to the belt .. Dior Book Tote bag in embroidered Dior Oblique canvas Carried within the hand or on the shoulderSiz.. After years of dreaming of owning one of these bags, I decided to take a brand new strategy to the situation. I had heard lots of issues about individuals shopping for pretend Louis Vuitton luggage. I recall seeing peddlers on the streets hoping to see a faux bag. When they put out a model new press launch, I learn it instantly. When they release new bags, I snap photos of them. Then, I Photoshop the pictures onto mine. How can a useful bag be made even more functional? Multi-pocketed and multi-practical, this soft and light-weight bag is impressed by navy clothes. The ingenious result of the leather-based inlay work combined with the canvas assembly make it a really robust bag. It is prepared for every thing – it even has a space for a cup. There are not any excuses for not happening an adventure with this first off-road bag. You shall be shocked to see how pure these handles match in your arm. We obtained the bag at present.My wife actually loves it.We are wanting forward to ordering once more in the future.Thank you on your help. This Givenchy tote updates the long-lasting Antigona bag with calf leather-based and a extra informal tote style. 3) The actual brand of the dust bag has a double circle on the outside and should you take a closer look you'll discover the distinction in the font for the H, additionally the circle surrounding the H is totally different. You'll notice an emphasis on sophistication as our eyes are focused firmly on the classics. Whether you need a duplicate Louis Vuitton, Fendi replica, or Gucci replica purses our choice of faux purses provided contains some of their hottest replica designer purses from these manufacturers. Replica purse lovers are certain to have an wonderful time exploring all the various knockoff purses, imitation designer baggage and Designer Replica Handbags out there on the internet. Real Hermes leather-based ought to be delicate and supple to the touch, and visible qualities actually depend upon the sort of leather-based used. To be taught extra about the anatomy of every individual leather kind, remember to learn our Hermes Leather Guide. Rothschild would also probably argue that the Birkin bag design, in a useful article of a bag, just isn't copyrightable at all underneath the Supreme Court’s check of separability in Star Athletica. However, that check is fairly straightforward to satisfy, a lot to the chagrin of many of my colleagues who're copyright professors. First, the Birkin bag design “can be perceived as a two- or three-dimensional murals separate from the useful article,” both as a pictorial work or as a sculptural work. But, when you take a glance at the Birkin bag, are you capable to see a sculptural work or do you simply see a purse? Hi I know a seller in London who has amazing baggage. Search an net site the place an individual can communicate with you want hanna and in addition bagsreplyatgmaildotcom. Most of the time I even have no problem with receiving orders. Only a couple of occasions the package remained at customs and was reshipped by the store. In the pretend vs actual Hermes Birkin bag image above, we now have identified how the replica Hermes bag has the stitching trying noticeably totally different than the stitching on the genuine Birkin bag. Every single wallet, not to mention bag, that we stock, is crafted with the best high quality supplies obtainable on the market, which embrace one hundred pc genuine leather-based, canvas, calfskin, hardware, and so forth. We put in tons of effort and want to just bear in mind to will never be able to inform the difference between our Louis Vuitton knock off bag and the real thing. wikipedia handbags After all, our costs are a lot decrease than what you'll pay for an authentic Louis Vuitton handbag. As a lot as I would love to, I’m not in a position to spend all my hard-earned cash on high-end handbags made by some of the world’s most recognizable and renowned luxury brands. If you look at my closet and you didn’t know any better, you can have sworn that I have spent lots of of hundreds, if not millions of dollars in my collection. The trends and types of designer purses nowadays... New to the world of designer-inspired handbags? The seams on the bag should be just perfect. Though the number of stitches on both faux and genuine baggage right here is similar, you'll have the ability to clearly see how sloppy the stitching appears on the faux. replica birkin Besides, with few exceptions, the thread is usually the identical color because the leather.

#birkin bag replica #replica birkin #replica hermes birkin

[realchemistry]

Buck @ Eddie: “You’re my problem.” Also Buck @ Eddie: “You’re my problem and I’m gonna fix you.”

#911Edit #Buddie #BuddieEdit #Buck and Eddie #911 #911 FOX #Eddie Diaz #Evan Buckley #Ryan Guzman #Oliver Stark #realchemistry #Parallels #I was thinking about this a couple of days ago #and so I dusted off my Photoshop and this happened at last #I had to leave stuff out cause only 10 gifs allowed #but you get the gist of it #the guy who likes to fix things made Eddie HIS PROBLEM #AFTER TELLING HIM HE WAS HIS PROBLEM #I'm having a heart attack of some sort about it

[shurisneakers]

harmless (ix)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: a lot of requests came in last week, so cool and thank you for sending them in!! i’ll try my best to write them if they weren’t originally what i had planned for this series bc they’re so cute kfjdghdf. also hey shoutout to @i-reblog-fics-i-like​ for suggesting the backstory thing! 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Additional Scene   || Previous Part  || Series Masterlist

Hot single in your area! 😈  Find your solemate! 

Somehow it bypasses Bucky’s spam folder and is in his primary email. SHIELD tech is too advanced to let fake mails like this reach him and this doesn’t make sense. Unless it was one of the stupid dating websites he signed up for.

Leaving aside the obvious typo in the subject, he clicks on it, hoping it doesn’t unleash a virus onto his computer. 

He’s instead greeted with a poorly Photoshopped picture of you at a bar with a martini in your hand. He doesn’t have to look too hard to see that the martini is, in fact, an emoji. Off to a terrible start already. 

Right beside it is an even worse image, an imitation of an early Internet chat box.

Harbinger of Doom just sent you a message! 

Come to the empty lot near lair. Bring goggles. 😩💦

Decline/Accept

He wants to strangle you. 

______

“Why did you curse my eyes so early in the morning?” He spots you at the top of the lair, speaking loudly so that it hopefully reached you. 

“What?” you yell back down instead. “If you’re saying something, I can’t hear you.”

He rolls his eyes. He pulls his phone from his pocket and presses on your contact. 

He watches the look of confusion morph into one of slight surprise when you reach into your pocket and pull out your call.

“Don’t ever send an image like that to me again,” he says directly.

“If that one image is too much for you, how will we ever make our sex tape?”

His mouth opens and shuts like goddamn fish.

He can hear your laughter even without the phone.

“First of all- stop laughing- first of all, a sex tape is never going to happen. Second of all, I have a debriefing to go to, we need to make this quick.”

He holds up a finger when he sees you begin to say something. By the look of trouble painted all over your face, he knows it’s going to be a dumb innuendo. 

“Thirdly, why are you standing there?”

“I watched The Last Airbender,” you say once your cackling dies down.

“I like that show.” He did. Peter sometimes watched it when he came over and Bucky more often than not joined in.

“I know, you told me.”

Oh. 

“Okay, what now?” 

“Put your goggles on.” You take one step towards the ledge. 

“What are you doing?” The goggles don’t do anything to shield him from the sun, considering that they’re not tinted. Maybe he could invest in those.

You send him a smile, taking a step further. His walk towards the building turns into a jog, then a sprint when you’re basically standing on the edge.

You spread your arms out like Jesus Christ himself before flinging yourself off the building. His stomach drops.

His phone falls to the ground, discarded to the side as he sprints to break your landing. 

It never comes. 

Instead, a gust of wind smacks him in the face, forcing him a few steps backwards. 

“I am now an air bender.” your eyes shone. “Kind of.”

Just like that, the show was ruined.

He wipes the dust on from his glasses that he now understands why you made him wear. Considerate, for a person who nearly just gave him a heart attack. 

“Why.” It’s not even a question, just a statement. 

“You know how the Tower has a giant ‘A’ on the side?” 

He stares at you. 

“I‘m gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of it.”

Pepper would not like that. 

“That’s not even evil.”

“Yeah, but it’d annoy your super friends,” You do a flip midair, testing out the repulsors that were tied around your palms, “and I’m the voice of the people.”

You’re too high for him to reach. He doesn’t have his tools, or anything useful on him considering that he never had to use them before. He couldn’t even launch himself at you from the side of the building because you’d just move out of the way. He could jump really high but it would just have the same consequence.

He could talk and keep you distracted but that worked once, it wouldn’t again. At least not for long. 

Fuck, he really had only one option. 

He leaves you to do your somersaults and turns, walking over to where he dropped his phone. It’s an upgrade from the brick he was using a while ago, but not a high end Stark model. A smartphone, but barely.

He sighs, punching in the number and holding it up to his ear.

“Who are you calling?” you yell from above him. 

“Go back to your shitty aerobics,” he yells back.

You pause for a second. “Was that a fucking pun, James Bar-”

The dial tone ends when someone picks up. He diverts his attention back to the call.

“Hey man, I-

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish.”

“It’s probably something stupid,” Sam doesn’t even sound annoyed, just uninterested.

“I need your wings.”

“I was right. Bye.”

It was a long shot anyway.

“Fuckin’ hold on a second.” He sees you disintegrate a concrete block by having it drop from the air. “You come here and fix this, then. She’s air bending now.”

“...like Avatar?” Sam unsurprisingly got the reference. 

Peter’s interests were usually shared by everyone in the Tower, just because they had to compensate for the teasing he had to endure. It led to a lot of geeky documentaries and occasional musicals. Bucky wouldn’t be caught dead humming songs from Thoroughly Modern Millie under his breath. 

“Yeah.”

“You want me to come and fight your girlfriend,” he says slowly. 

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Bucky urges, “and yes, I need help. Can’t exactly reach her when she’s twenty feet above me.”

“We have a briefing in 30 minutes. Why did you even go there today?”

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Just looks up at you smacking one of the repulsors against your thigh when it sputters for a second. It’s tradition. 

“Well?” Bucky ignores his question.

“Fine,” Sam’s voice is distant for a second as he agrees. “Clint’s asking if he can come too.”

“Fuck no.” One of them was more than enough and Sam was way better at negotiation. 

He hears a faint profanity from who he assumed was Clint before the call cuts.

He takes a seat on the ground and waits.

“You’re not going to make any effort to stop me?” You have your arms pressed to your side, palms pointed downwards to keep you afloat.

 “I could just throw things at you again.” He makes a mention towards the small pebbles.

“I will fuck you up if you even try,” you warn. He lifts his arms in surrender. “So that’s it. You’re just going to sit there.”

“To be honest, I couldn’t care less if you painted the building,” he says with the least amount of interest he could muster, not that that was very hard.

“Do you not like your team?” 

“I do.” He isn’t lying. “But they’re little shits.”

“I can draw a couple of dicks on their window, no problem,” you say offhandedly.

He looks up at you through his fingers. “That won’t be required.”

Although it was appreciated. 

“Cool, so then I’m gonna go.” You make a mention of the utility belt on your waist. He looks at the many spray cans that decorate it. 

“What colour are you going with?” he interrupts quickly. Fuckin’ Sam. What was the point of wings if he couldn’t get here in 2 minutes?

“Red, probably.” You look down. “I got purple and white just in case.”

“Building’s dark, red is good.”

“You really don’t care, do you?” You lower yourself down to the ground, a few feet ahead of him. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” For fucks’ sake, Sam. “You really don’t like superheroes, do you?”

“I don’t have anything against them.”

“Then why do you do this every week?”

This was wading into personal territory and he did not like it. 

“Well.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Because I want to. It’s fun.”

“No other reason?”

“Do I need to have another reason?” You push your palm downwards, sending you back up into the air. “Can’t I just be evil because I want to?”

“Sure,” he says. He’s heard worse reasons. “Why not?”

“Besides, if you think I don’t like superheroes then you should meet Jake.”

“Who’s Jake?” He hadn’t ever heard you mention him before because he’d remember if you had.

“My roommate.” 

“I didn’t see him when I came over.”

“That’s because we’re not conjoined at the hip.” It takes you a second to stabilise. “Besides, he grabbed the water while I got the bracelet but he refused to come say hi.”

Bucky looked down at his wrist. It was still there. He found himself fidgeting with it more often than not.

“He hates superheroes?”

“He has a valid reason.” Your eyes widen in worry when your head suddenly dips. 

“What is it?” He knows the height at which you’re at isn’t very dangerous but if need be, he’s close by. 

“Come find out.” Your eyes shone mischievously. “But yeah, no reason for me to be evil.”

“Not even a tragic backstory?” 

“None. But if you want it, I can give you one, Barnes.” You test the waters, seeing how long you can lie horizontally. “Can’t promise you’ll like it though.”

“Try me.” He has time to kill. He’s a good listener.

“Well, it all started with my family- a troop of gorillas.” You flip over to lie on your back. “They practically raised me, they did. Until my gorilla mother died and I was all but consumed by grief and-”

“Your mother was a gorilla?” He entertains the notion. 

“Or was it my father?” you ask thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I don’t remember. Anyway, I met a-”

“Just to clarify, none of this is real, right?” he interjects. 

You stare at him. He stares at you.

“Bucky, that’s the plot of Tarzan,” you say slowly, “or at least whatever I remember of it... which I’m beginning to realise isn’t much.”

“Just clarifying.” He leans back again.

“Anyway so then when my mother, the deer-”

“Gorilla.”

“Whatever. Was killed, I escaped to some place-”

“Where?”

“Somewhere. And I stayed with these seven men-”

“Why seven?” He actually remembers watching this movie with his sister when it came out. An early memory, a bit faded. He remembers how long he saved up for the ticket.

“Because character development. And then I realised the reason my life was so weird was because there was a rat controlling me by pulling on my hair-”

“What the fuc-”

“If you ask any more questions, I’m going to stop.”

Bucky blinks at you. “So that’s your backstory.” 

“Raw and uncut, baby.”

“Just to get this straight, your mother, the gorilla deer-”

“Witch.”

“Huh?”

“She was a witch who stole my hair.”

“Wha-”

He’s interrupted by the giant shadow cast by something that flies overhead. 

Fucking finally. 

He doesn’t even have to look up. Sam does a small glide to the ground, landing gracefully beside him.

Bucky finds you speechless but straightened up from your earlier posture.

“Buck,” Sam greets him.

“Sam,” he says in return, getting up from his place. 

A grin spreads across your face. “Mr. Sam Wilson. No way.”

“You’re Y/N, I’m assuming?” Sam offers, posture relaxed. He clearly wasn’t here to fight. 

“The one and only.” You tear your eyes away from Sam to glare at Bucky. “Barnes, if you had told me we were expecting guests, I would have dressed better.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows in suspicion at you. You’d dress up for Sam. 

You dressed up like a suburban tourist dad for him. He was feeling the offence incoming. 

“Can’t count on him to be useful in any situation.” Alright, he did not call Sam just to have the both of you team up against him. 

“Normally I’d agree with you but he did just invite you here, so...” you trail off, looking at Sam expectantly. 

What the shit.

Sam smirks. Bucky switches rapidly back and forth between the both of you.

“I see why Buck keeps coming back every week.” It doesn’t take long for him to catch on, enlisting a feeling of triumph from you. 

“I can’t see why he doesn’t just stay at home everyday if this is the view.” You gesture to him.

This is not what Bucky wanted.

“Okay,” Bucky interrupts, “what is going on here?”

“Pure chemistry, I’d say.” You’re half tempted to bite your lip to seal the deal.

“I agree.” Sam just nods, completely and utterly serious. 

You think that you’ll give him a gift basket just for playing along despite meeting you for the first time at that moment. 

“Get a room.” Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Maybe we will.” You tap your finger against your lip in thought. “How do you feel about Indian food, Sam?”

“Very positively.” 

Bucky grits his teeth. “If you’re not planning to spray paint the Tower, can you just hand over the repulsers so we can go home for the day?”

You let out a small tsk in disapproval. “See what I have to deal with?”

“Can’t imagine how you do it every weekend,” Sam says dryly, not wasting a second in replying. 

“Hello?” Bucky waves his arm around. “She’s the villain here.”

“Your face is the villain here.” You tear your eyes away from Sam only to glare at him. “He won’t even wear a cape. Why am I the only one who brings their A-Game every week?”

“Sam just get the damn-”

“You should wear a cape, man.” Bucky’s absolutely sure that even Sam knows it’s a ridiculous idea.

“I’m not wearing a fuckin’ cape,” he grumbles. 

“What are your thoughts on swords, then?” Your finger finds a place under your chin in deep contemplation. “You’d look great with a sword.”

Bucky buries his face in his palms. “Sam, for the love of God.” 

“Okay, alright.” Sam finally gives in with a small chuckle. He runs a few steps to get a small head start before launching himself into the air, whizzing past your levitating figure. He does a neat little flip midair before matching your height.

Showoff.

“How difficult are you gonna make this, Wilson?” you ask, a smirk on your face.

“Jesus Christ.” Bucky exhales, looking at the both of you through his goggles. 

“What’s your play here?” Sam calls out loudly.

“Was gonna spray paint ‘asshole’ on the side of the Tower.”

“After the ‘A’?”

“After the ‘A’,” you confirm. 

“Now that’s too small,” Sam tutted. “You gotta think bigger. Paint the whole Tower.” 

“Sam!” Bucky looks horrified. 

“Hmm.” You look like you’re considering it. “Don’t have enough paint for that though.”

“You’re an evil genius, right?” Sam casts a small glance at Bucky. “At least that’s what he tells me.”

“You talk about me?” You grin at the disgruntled man on the ground. 

“I don’t,” he mutters, shaking his head. A lie.

“Yeah, so build something,” Sam points out. “Get some more paint. I’ll even tell you the best vantage points to spill it.”

“No, he won’t,” Bucky shouts from below. 

“He’s just cranky because he didn’t get his prune juice this morning, ignore him,” Sam dismisses him.

Prune juice? He was a young 100, not ancient. 

“What’s your favourite colour, Falcon?”

“I like red.”

As annoyed as Bucky is right now, he stores that away in his memory for later. He also knows Sam loves seafood and a good pair of shoes. 

“A couple of gallons of red paint it is, then.” You lower yourself to the ground, Sam slowly follows suit until he lands beside Bucky.

“You know we can’t let you go without taking those, right?” Bucky tilts his head towards your invention.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t budge.

“I’ll tell ya what,” Sam pipes in instead. “I’ll keep them until you finish getting the paint and once you’re done, we’ll make an evening out of vandalising the Tower.” 

Bucky may not enjoy his company all that much but he admires Sam’s diplomacy. Of course, you would never make it this easy while reasoning with him.

“That a promise, Mr. Wilson?” You raise your eyebrow at him questioningly but are already in the process of removing the things from your hand. 

“Wouldn’t ever lie to you, doll.” He holds up his hand in a mock swear.

You walk towards Bucky and him, rotating your wrists to get rid of the soreness. “Bold claim for a man who met me ten minutes ago.”

“Feels like it’s been longer.” He sends you a wink and you can’t stop the laugh the escapes from you finally. 

Bucky holds his hand out for the gadgets. You shrink away from him with a click of your tongue.

“Technically, he takes this round.” You send a nod towards Sam, dropping off the repulsors into his hand. “So he gets it.”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“You gonna keep ‘em safe?” you ask Sam, this time a little more earnestly. 

“Guard it with my life,” he says seriously, pressing his lips together in a line to avoid smiling. 

“You’re both ridiculous,” Bucky cuts in.

“You’re going to be late.” Sam tucks the devices into his pocket safely. “You know how Steve gets when people walk in on his speeches. Do you even have a ride?”

“Got the motorcycle.” 

“See you there.” Sam nods. 

“Save me a place,” Bucky says to him.

“No.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Y/N. It was a pleasure.”

“Still holding you to that evening, Sam.” You send him a smile.

“I’m countin’ on it.” He gives you a small three finger salute before taking off, leaving you staring after his retracting figure. 

When the dust settles, Bucky awkwardly clears his throat. “Right. So that was that.”

“Dude,” you let out an exhale. “he’s so hot.”

He murmurs something unintelligible. It vaguely sounds like a series of threats but mostly a list of complaints.

“Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” You turn your attention back to him.

“Yeah.”

“Aren’t you going to be late?” You glance at the clock on your phone.

“I’ll just tell them I was on a mission.” Well, sort of. “Besides, what are they gonna do? Kick me out?”

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “Have a safe ride back.”

From what he knows of you and Sam, the both of you were kidding around. But he could never be too sure. He can’t even ask if you were serious about the entire thing because it’s none of his business. 

Were the implications of having his mortal nemesis and other mortal nemesis date important enough to overrule that? 

“Are you planning to skip your meeting, or?” you ask when he remains freezes in his spot, eyes glazed over like he’s thinking about something. “Because if you are, I know this great Thai place-”

“Don’t do that again,” he says instead, shaking his head to jolt him out of his thoughts. 

“What?”

“Flinging yourself off roofs like that.”

“Why?” Because it scared the hell out of him, for one.

“Just don’t.”

“Oh please, like you’ve never done dangerous shit like that before.” You narrow your eyes at him, reading his face. “Are you telling me you care about me?”

“No.” His nose twitches. “Just don’t throw yourself off buildings when I’m around.”

“What about when you’re not?”

“As long as I’m not there to witness it.” He shrugs, spinning on his heel to leave. Technically he preferred if you didn’t do things like that at all. 

“Fine. I’ll just have my clone try out all the dangerous stuff for me.”

 He stops in his tracks. “You have a clone?”

“Well,” You squint, “no. But I’m working on it.”

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Bye Y/N.”

“You know, it sounds an awful lot like you’re saying we’re friends.” Your whole demeanour changes and he already knows what’s coming.

“I never said that,” he argues vehemently. “All I said was that I can’t have your murder on my hands.”

“Thus implying that we’re friends. In a fucked up, enemies kind of way.” You positively beam at him. “Aw, Barnes, that’s adorable.”

Adorable? Adorable?

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too, bestie,” you gush, dumb grin on your face. “I’ll make us friendship rings next time. What are your thoughts on matching tattoos?”

He wants to cry. 

______

By the time Sam walks into the meeting room, the session’s already begun. He shoots an apologetic look to a monologuing Steve before taking his place at the nearest chair available. 

Something sharp pokes his thigh. His wings are off and in the backpack beside him, but then he remembers your little inventions that were still in his pocket.

He tries not to make much of a noise while he pulls them out, giving them a look over to make sure they’re not broken.

“Watcha got there, Big Bird?” Tony asks lowly from beside him.

“Something that Barnes’ enemy made.” Sam holds it up slightly. 

“The one he’s been rendezvousing around town with every weekend?” 

“That’s her.” He’s about to put it in his backpack when Tony stops him.

“Pass that here for a second.” He recognises it immediately for what it is, interest piqued. 

Sam hands one of them over while he puts the other back in the bag. It’s a metallic circle, not bigger than Tony’s palm, with a thick leather strap to tie it around your palm.

“She made this?” 

“Why don’t you ask him?” Sam mentions towards Bucky who silently slips into the conference room, standing in the corner near the potted plant since there were no more chairs left.

“The balance has gotta be off on this thing,” he mutters to himself, wholly ignoring the brooding man standing in the corner like a Christmas tree.

“She seemed to be manoeuvring it fine,” Sam catches the eye of a lower ranking agent who makes the mistake of glaring at him for talking while the meeting was going on. A few seconds later the agent hastily looks away and doesn’t turn around for the rest of the hour. 

“Could be better.” He uses a much more intricate model for his suits, although this isn’t even half-bad for a homemade version. “Do you know how long she took to make this?”

“Buck says she comes up with a new one every week, so I’m guessing that long.” 

It had a few glitches but it was incredibly refined for a week’s worth of work.

“Interesting.” He gives it a quick overlook before handing it back to Sam who drops it into the bag.

He casts a swift glance at Bucky, noting how he wasn’t even paying attention to the meeting but rather to whatever he had tied around his metal wrist, fidgeting with it with his thumb. 

Tony has an idea. 

And that was generally bad news.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Hi, I love your writing. I really want to make a request where the readers have eating disorder but works in the modeling industries. She is like dating Gerard, but they were in a super big fight because of her eating disorder, as well as her constant traveling for fashion weeks, and at the end, they make up, and Gerard is helping her getting better, and stuff like that. I really love your writing, can you please write one? THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!

Title: Poisons A/N: I actually got two requests for something like these. The endings for both requests were slightly different, but here’s the first one. I didn’t really edit it, just because I haven’t updated much content in forever, but here you go! Pairing: Gerard Way (probably late Black Parade era) x Model!F!Reader Word count: 3,170 Warnings: Eating disorder, swearing, angst, drama, there’s just a lot.

Okay, so this was not what Gerard expected to come home to.

The man expected to go back to his New York apartment, shared with his gorgeous girlfriend, and for everything to be perfect. Well maybe not perfect, but perfect in Gerard’s mind.

He wanted nothing more than to just eat some chips, not having eaten in 16 hours due to his flight and partial distaste to airplane food, and curl up with his girlfriend, hugging every inch of her curves.

Instead he came home to a house that was nearly empty of any food, only a few protein shakes resided in the large fridge. This was already a huge warning sign Gerard looked out for. His mind attempted to justify itself, thinking that maybe he was jumping to the worst of the worst conclusions. No, you were probably just traveling so much that you weren’t at home enough to actually buy food.

He sighed, moving to one of the cabinets he knew the take out menus were hidden in. Opening it up, he picked up one of the cheap paper menus covered in dust, shaking it with his hand to get it off. Great, these hadn’t been touched in months.

After debating mentally between Chinese and Italian, he moved to your bedroom, in hopes to finally see the love of his life after months of being absent on tour. There you were, peacefully sleeping in bed. Jetlag, he knew.

He carefully removed his shoes, moving to his closet to change his airplane clothes to more comfortable ones. Climbing into the warm bed beside you, he placed his hands on your hips as he always had. His initial smile soon turned into a frown.

Even under the large hoodie you were wearing he could feel the painful outlines of your ribs. Grimacing to himself, he heard a small sigh fall from your lips. “Gee?” You coarsely called out.

“Mhm,” He hummed back, kissing the top of your head despite the pure disappointment towards you that coarse through his veins.

“What’re you doing? Weren’t you supposed to be gone for another week?” You asked again, still half asleep.

“The guys and I decided to cancel the last week where we were just supposed to travel, I missed you too much.” He smiled lightly, moving your hair to the side to kiss your neck.

“Mmm,” You hummed quietly, your consciousness growing back. Within seconds realization hit you, your eyes internally going wide, not wanting to show anything to Gerard, and you pulled away from him slightly.

“Babe,” He sighed, “We’re not doing this again.” “Doing what again?” You tried to pretend to not understand what he was saying.

“You’re a gorgeous, talented model,” He began with a soft smile, “But don’t go into acting, you’re not good at it.” “Gee, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You fired back.

“Take off your hoodie,” He insisted, “Now.” “Gerard, what the fuck?” You scoffed, “Take off my hoodie?” “You heard me,” He stated, “Take it off.” “Why would I take it off?” You scrowled.

“So I can confirm that you haven’t been eating like you’re supposed to.”

“Gerard, please-” You begged, now falling off your pedestal of lies. He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes.

“Why haven’t you?” He asked, looking at you, “What has caused you not to eat again? I thought we were over this.”

“I don’t think that’s your problem.” You snapped. You rarely if ever did so, but this was only further confirmation that you hadn’t eaten in a couple of days. You were cranky.

“Damn right it is my problem.” He sat up next to you, his face had gone completely serious. There were traces of anger in his eyes, his pulsing veins along his muscular arms told you all you needed to know. He wasn’t only infuriated with your habit, he was disappointed.

A word you hated. You absolutely hated. The way it sounded, the meaning, how it made you feel. “Please,” You begged him, your once bright eyes gray from the torture you had put yourself through. “Please what?” He asked, his tone still somewhat harsh.

“Just don’t be mad.” You pleaded. You could see his eyes scan over your face, looking for any signs that you were lying. He found none.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to clear his head he nodded lightly. “Alright,” He said barely letting out a breath, “But you need to tell me everything.”

And you did. Most of it at least. You explained how your insecurities resettled themselves in your mind, starting the moment he left for Tour. You talked about how you were getting more gigs and all due to your tinier size. You explained how skin and bones was basically the new trend.

He sat and listened to you. And he believed it, because he knew it was true. But naturally, he also was a human lie detector. Especially with you.

“Okay,” He began, “And what else?” So maybe that one small part your left out was something that you really didn’t want to admit. Gerard had this strong distaste for most of your model “friends”, ya know, the ones who are naturally tiny and eat salads 24/7, never genuinely enjoying a single meal. The one’s who flashed their designer shit everywhere they went, who posted bikini photos every other day and managed to somehow photoshop themselves into complete Barbie dolls. It made Gerard’s blood boil, he never liked you hanging out with them. Because are them you were not Y/N, you couldn’t be. And that made you even more secure.

“There’s nothing else.” You lied. He looked you in the eyes, waiting another moment.

“I’m gonna give you one more chance to tell me the truth,” He sighed, “What else?” “I said nothing.” Your tone was adamant. He rolled his eyes in disbelief.

“You lied to me,” He began, “You just fucking lied to me. We’ve been over this how many times?” “I didn’t fucking lie to you,” You stuck up for yourself, moving further away from him.

“Another lie, damn Y/N.” He sighed, “We’ve been dating for three years, and you still can’t trust me.” “I do trust you, Gerard.” “Then why are you lying to me?” He asked, his tone going to a much harsher pitch.

“Ya know what?” You said, grabbing your pillow violently, getting up from the bed, Gerard looking at you with no emotion. “Fuck you.” You stated.

“Are you seriously gonna leave?” He asked, rolling his eyes, “Immature.” “No, I’m going to the fucking couch where I don’t have to sleep next to a complete dick.” You fired back, going into your closet and grabbing a spare blanket. “You didn’t mean that.” He scoffed.

“Then why the fuck did I say it?” You marched out of the bedroom, flipping him off to which you heard a sarcastic laugh.

This was far from how you had planned his return. You were gonna stock the fridge and pantry, ya know, not give him a chance to think you weren’t eating, and probably have dinner made. You would eat a small portion, making the excuse you had a big lunch with your friends, and bam! Everything would be okay.

But naturally, shit didn’t work out and after numerous insults thrown at each other you found yourself on the couch silently sobbing. You and Gerard had never gone that far, ever. This fight was beyond messy, it was a complete dumpster fire.

You wanted no more than to apologize to him, but you also wanted an apology from him. You should’ve told him everything, that was on you. But he pushed your buttons and he knew what he was doing. It only took 15 minutes, before you heard his soft footsteps coming from the bedroom, and his warm arms wrapping around you, to which his shoulder became one to cry on. His slow and soft coos calming you down, as he began apologizing over and over again, clearly more mad at himself at this point. “Sugar, I’m so so sorry,” He apologized, “I was just really upset.” “I know,” You sniffled, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have called you a dick.” You looked up at him. “Well, I was kinda being one.” He lightly smiled, to which you giggled in his chest. “Just promise me, you’ll start eating again.” “Gee-” You were about to make an excuse when you were interrupted.

“Babe, you have to.” He began, “Remember what your manager said last time?” You sighed, remembering. Yep, they would place you right in a psych ward. “So here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re not gonna tell anyone, but I need you to start eating, okay? We’ll go gradually, start small and build up. Together, okay?” You nodded, placing you head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” You smiled, looking up at him. “I love you too.” He smiled right back down.

-Six months later-

"Gee, that’s too much salt!” You scolded as he put a tablespoon of salt not a teaspoon into the cookie dough you were making.

“Oops.” He looked down to which you smiled lightly. You took a chunk of it placing it into your mouth, and he did the same. You couldn’t help but gag at how much salt was in it. “Salty.” He admitted, and you lightly nudged him.

“Yeah, ya dork.” You smiled. “That’s what happens when you add too much salt.” He lightly laughed, wrapping his hands around your waist from behind and placing his head on your shoulder.

“So what’re we gonna do to fix it.” “Nothing,” You said, “We could like, triple the batch, but that would be way too much.”

“Don’t forget we’re seeing the guys tonight,” He smiled, “They’re gonna eat this shit up.” You sighed, nodding.

“Maybe it isn’t such a bad idea after all.” The two of you spent the next half hour adding more of every ingredient, thankful that your apartment was stocked with food to use.

Carefully, you placed as many trays as you could into the oven, closing it and setting the timer. Giving Gerard a quick peck on the lips, he went off to review some emails as you checked your phone. Of course, the group chat was buzzing.

You sighed as you open the text chain reluctantly, scrolling through only to see your name pop up numerous times. “Y/N, where have you been?” “Yeah, fr, we have been out to lunch with you in forever.” “Why are you ignoring us?” “Really? Now you’re being a fake friend.” “Guys, I’m okay.” You simply responded, “Just really busy.”

“Uh huh, you’ve been doing boutique stuff for months.” “Literally nothing even big.” “Not since that Prada show.” “It’s Gerard, isn’t it.”

And just like that, you were about to light these girls up. Gerard was the only one willing, and quite frankly able, to get you out of the huge hole you had dug yourself into. And damn, now these bitches (I hate misogynistic terms against women, but I think it may fit here) were really gonna act like the good guys. “Don’t bring Gerard into this.” You simply responded. “It has to be him.” “He’s not even worth it.” “You could have any guy in the world, and you chose him.” “He’s way out of your league, and you’re still on your knees for him. Smh.” You knew damn well they were trying to get to you. None of these girls had had any true romance, only summer flings with football players, actors, and singers. Granted, Gerard was a singer, but he made good music. He was an artist at his core, singing was just apart of that art. It didn’t take you more than a moment to remove yourself from the group chat, and block all those girls. The real fake friends. The timer went off, which startled you a bit, but placing your phone down with a heavy sigh, you turned it off, to check out the cookies. The top row was done, which you were going to take out. Naturally, the tsunami of inappropriate texts from who you would once call your “girlfriends” was still flooded in your mind, and like a complete idiot, you reached in, touching and grabbing the sheet. With you bare hands.

“Shit!” You yelped, dropping the pan on the open oven and rushing to put your hand under cold water.

“Y/N?” You heard Gerard rush in. You looked up at him, and judging your hand under water, and the cookie sheet which had clearly gone through it, he took a slight sigh, first going to examine your hand. “You alright?” You nodded despite the tears forming in your eyes.

It wasn’t even the burn that hurt. It was the fact that you knew you let those girls get to you so easily, and the just embarrassed yourself in front of Gerard. You knew he didn’t find it embarrassing at all, it was an honest mistake. But still, it embarrassed the shit out of you. “Baby,” He cooed, moving your head up with his fingers under your chin to see the tears that were now slowly cascading down your red cheeks, “It’s okay.” He said lightly. You nodded, placing your head into his chest and sniffling a bit. “What happened.” “I was just distracted,” You admitted, “Forgot the oven mitt.” He nodded, holding you for a moment longer before he knew you were okay, and going to pick up the mess. “Gee, I can clean it up, I made it-” “No, no, please, just worry about your hand, okay, sugar?” You nodded, attending back to it.

The bright red mark across your hand didn’t want to budge, which you were fine with, considering it didn’t hurt as much, just stung a bit. He managed to clean up all the cookies pretty fast, putting them on the stove top to cool, and quickly going back to you. Giving you a kiss on the top of your head, it was his way of messaging he didn’t want to push the topic. But if you wanted to talk he’d be there to listen. It wasn’t but a few hours later that the guys came over. The mistake from earlier was long forgotten, other than the mark on your hand.

The guys were honestly some of your best friends, just like they were Gerard’s. They truly cared about you, just as much if not more than you cared about them. All of them knew about your struggles, and they were honestly your number one cheerleaders.

So the looks on their faces when they saw you healthy again was one that you could not pay for. It was definitely a lot of pride in you for doing it, and it made you feel even better about your decision to get healthy again.

Honestly, you loved the relaxes atmosphere of just hanging out. Sitting next to Gerard with some water, as he drank a Diet Coke, and some of the guys had beers, some opted otherwise. You could theoretically drink as well, but you didn’t want your boyfriend to ever feel alone or strange not drinking alcohol, considering his rough past with it. So you typically opted for a non alcoholic beverage.

It wasn’t until after the guys were gone and you were in the shower that Gerard figured out what was wrong. Your phone kept buzzing, going off constantly. He had never once checked your phone without your permission. There was a huge element of trust in your relationship, and he never felt that there was a reason to. He knew your passcode, you two had openly shared each others in the case one of you needed to use the others phone, but when he picked up yours and saw all those girls name pop up he scoffed.

He knew he probably shouldn’t have done it, but he opened your phone, scrolling through the messages. Some of them you had yet to block, and they were obnoxious. He went into the group chat where the messages were flooding, reading from the beginning of the day until now.

Pissed was an absolute understatement. If it wasn’t for the sound of the shower you were in keeping him aware of his surrounding, he probably would have smashed your phone. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, he placed it face down on the counter right where it was, resorting back to your bedroom in some hope of calming down before you got out, not making anything too obvious.

Everything was fine, completely normal. The two of you laying in bed together, doing your typical night time routine of reading a bit, maybe watching something, it really depended. You could feel how tense Gerard was, even by your head just leaning on his shoulder. His muscles flexed together, twisted into tight knots. You weren’t sure what had him so stressed, there wasn’t a need for him to be, right? “Babe?” You asked, to which he quietly hummed, “Are you alright?” You had caught on quickly, like you always had. And now he had cursed himself for looking at those messages. Transparency, he remembered, transparency.

“Honestly,” He sighed putting his book down, “I- I- I saw those messages.” He stumbled on his own words. You gave him a confused look, “The ones the girls sent.” You let out a sigh. Oh shit, he thought, thinking the worst of the worst. “Please don’t listen to them,” You insisted, “You know you’re not the reason for any problem in my life?” “Of course not,” He scoffed, “You’re totally fine. It’s just, how they treated you that bothered me.” “Gee-” “Y/N, we’ve talked about this.” He turned to you, “I’m not a controlling person, I try my hardest not to be. But damn, those girls are complete poisons. They’re hurting you, they’re doing far more harm than good. And I hope that doesn’t make me sound like a manipulator or anything, but even you’ve admitted you’re a lot different around them.” You sighed and nodded.

“I know, I just-” You began, “I’ve spent so many years of my life surrounding myself with people like them that it’s hard for me to know what to do without that, ya know?” He nodded.

“You don’t need a bunch of model friends thought to still be a great model.” You nodded.

“I’ll cut everything off with them in the morning, okay?” “Babe, you don’t need to rush it,” He said, “I mean, sure, the sooner the better, but this is your timing okay?” You nodded.

“Do you think everything will be okay?” You asked him next.

“Well, after they very possibly blame you for everything over text and try to put you down a psychological spiral, because that’s what they do, then yes, everything should be okay.” He smiled to which you nudged him. “You’re making this so much easier.” You sarcastically said, “I don’t even know why I ask you.” “Because you love me.”

#gerard way #gerard way fanfiction #gerard way x reader #gerard way x y/n #gerard way x you #gee way #my chemical romance #my chemical gerard #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader

[wanderedaway]

Okay, that last part is like a lot, so feel free to just answer - let's spread some happiness around! --

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last 10 people that reblogged from you!

I want to update quickly and say, I’ve really been looking forward to the new chapter, but for reasons, I’ve had to take a step back. Things escalated so quickly over the last couple days and then the whole month so far has just been very unkind. 'Cause April wasn't great exactly, but it's been a heck of a lot better than May has been. No idea what the deal is because several other people in my life are not having a good time, either and it’s taken everyone by surprise. Don’t know if there’s some kind of misalignment in the stars or something nefarious happening behind the scenes, but it’s pushing me and other people to their limits, it seems.

Anyhoo, onto the ask. (I had to rewrite all this because tumblr flaked out on me.🥲)

1. A small act of kindness I can provide for someone. Whether it’s helping someone with something, or buying someone their favorite drink as a pick me up, or lending a listening ear, or saying just the right thing they need to hear (doesn’t happen often, I don’t want to lie to someone, so I use this sparingly. I’m also not great with words. I often surprise myself as often as I do to the person on the receiving side of it.), or wrapping a gift with personalized paper and touches, etc. etc. I get genuine happiness from it. Anytime I provide a little bit of kindness that I know someone might need, I’ll give it willingly.

2. Spotify. Lol, it really has changed my life. It’s so nice to have so much music in one place. And then to be able to discover new songs or rediscover old ones from another time in my life.

3. Indulging in my favorite drinks or foods. Bonus points if someone surprises me with one. My favorite coffee right now from Starbucks is a chocolate cream cold brew (and the baristas add vanilla and white mocha to mine because they know that I like mine on the sweeter side.) I had two of them yesterday and it was worth it despite the side effects. (But I’ve realized that I can have dairy??? I haven’t been paying too much attention, but I know I’ve had more than that I thought I should, but I’ve felt fine otherwise.) 4. Our cats! They’re so fun and sweet (when they want to be). I particularly miss my brother’s cat, but he moved away a few months ago. DaVinci is secretly the favorite. He’s the best one to hug. Lucy will secretly love you and then for the sake of looks, will bite or claw you to make it seem like she doesn’t. And then Sadie, I call her the favorite child. She was the stray we picked up and she really is the sweetest, but every now and then, I think the title gets to her head and then she’s clawing one of the chairs. But yeah, just cats in general. You might catch me watching videos of cats probably more often than I should. It might be a problem.

5. Any time spent being creative. Especially since it’s so hard to come by lately. I haven’t done any drawing or painting in 8 years. It sucks seeing all that time go by not maintaining the few skills I had there, but I’ve managed to pick up a few other ways to keep that creative outlet. The little bit of writing here and there I’ve managed to get out and then dusting off photoshop when the inspiration strikes.

Thank you Shet! 😘💕

#asks #weirdly enough i kinda feel better now than i have all day #what sorcery is this? #thank you shet! ❤️

[btsmakesmehappy]

Palate Cleanser | 5

Genre: Agent au, friends with benefit (sort of), Stranger to lover, Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Agent!Taehyung x Baker!reader

Word Count: 6,7k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: Guns. Violence. Minor characters died. Possessive Tae. Cursing.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 completed

Series Masterlist: The Company

Summary: Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

A/N: To my beloved beta readers: @arizonapoppy​ who gave me the most encouragement and to @hesperantha​ who literally made me want to join your screaming reading lmao. thankyou so much!!

“Why are you here again?” you asked, trying to sound mad. You put your hands on your hips as Taehyung walked through your door to the couch, throwing down his jacket and other belongings on his way.

Taehyung chuckled as he plopped himself on the couch. “You know, muffin, you’re thinking way too much. I know that deep down you are happy that I am here.”

You scoffed, walking to the couch and sitting beside him. “I’m not!”

He then took the remote from the table and turned on the TV, scrolling casually through Netflix. “Sure.”

You pouted and grabbed his arm to attract his attention. “I’m not!”

Taehyung just smiled. He leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose softly, catching you off guard. “You can say whatever you want, muffin. But you can’t lie to your heart. ”

You have been crying since Wendy dragged you to the Hall’s storage room. The room is in the back of the hall, almost outside. It’s weird for you that such an expensive hall has a room like this. The place is deserted and you feel that no one will ever hear your voice. You even take a peek at the broken window beside you, there’s no one out there to save you.

Taehyung was right after all.

That damn Park Chanyeol is fucking dangerous.

At the thought of Taehyung, you cry even harder. You are too young to die. You have just met a man who might be the love of your life and you have never told him that you love him. You miss Taehyung. You want to tell him that you love him. No, love may be too much. You want to be with Taehyung at any rate.

“For the love of God, stop crying already!” Wendy yells at you, yanking your hair.

How can you stop crying? You’re tied in a chair with a gun pointed to your head. If this isn’t the worst nightmare you’ve ever had, it is getting worse. Your stomach hurts. You try to control yourself, to stop the tears falling from your eyes. But they are just pouring like a waterfall.

“Wha-What will you do to me?” you ask cautiously.

“Oh, honey. Don’t ask something you don’t want to know,” she chuckles.

Suddenly, the door opens and a man barges in. He is in a suit too, and looks like another guest at this party. He holds a paper in his hand tightly. His face looks mad for some reason and he stops when he sees you. “Y/N?”

You look at him carefully. “Baekho?” You know this man. You went to college with him. Or close to it -- your college building is kind of merged with your culinary school so you saw him often. Hell, he even asked you out back then. Truth be told, you didn’t like him. He was snobby and when you rejected him, he hated it. He spread rumors about you in the building, which you didn’t care for. To you, he was just a rich annoying guy who had a bunch of men lurking behind him. And you remember one of the men -- it was Chanyeol.

His eyes widen when he looks at your state. “What? What is this?”

The door closes abruptly, making you jolt in surprise. “Nice reunion, right guys?” Chanyeol says happily. He walks closer to you. Your body is shaking. He touches your cheeks softly, which makes you wince in disgust. “I think it is more perfect than what I was planning before, with Y/N watching.”

Baekho glares at him. “What the fuck? Did you send this?” He asks as he holds the paper in the air. You can’t see what’s on the paper, but it looks like it might be a photo.

Chanyeol chuckles. “Of course I did! Who else knows about your bad past except me?”

Baekho grits his teeth. “What do you want? Do you want to share that photo with the public? Is that what you want?” He scoffs. “You really think that you can stop me from joining politics?”

Chanyeol laughs maniacally and walks to him. “I don’t fucking care about your career.” He pulls his gun and aims it at Baekho. “I just want you to die.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What the hell, Chanyeol? Are you crazy? Why do you want to kill your friend?”

Wendy slaps you across the face with her gun. “Shut the fuck up.” You can feel the tingling pain on your cheek and the bitterness of blood on the corner of your lips.

Chanyeol scoffs. “Friends? I have never thought of him as a friend.” His gun is still pointing to Baekho, who has already fallen on his knees. He’s hyperventilating and clutching his chest. “He just used me as a slave, back then.”

“What?” Your voice is weak. It doesn’t make any sense. Did he plan all of this just to take revenge on Baekho?

“You should be happy too, Y/N! He was the one who spread that groundless rumor about you! He even made your photoshopped naked photo.” He glares back to Baekho. “He is trash.”

This sudden fact makes you squint your eyes in confusion.  “That doesn’t mean you can kill him!”

“It is too late.” Chanyeol smiles weakly. You hear a click from his gun.

You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear a shot, followed by the other shots. The smell of gunpowder fills the room, mixed with the smell of dust. It is nauseating. The pain in your stomach worsens, twisting it, nearly forcing you to throw the contents on the floor. You want to vomit everything; wipe away what you just saw.

With the sound of the door opened abruptly, the sound of firing guns doesn’t stop, it is even getting worse. You hear the cries of the people around you. You clutch your bound hands into fists; your nails digging into your palms in what you are sure will be permanent half moons, if you survive this.

You cast your head down. At this point, you can’t cry anymore. You want to run away, but you’re tied. You literally can’t do anything. You pray that it will end soon.

You are almost sure you are going to die tonight.

Maybe it is the fear, maybe it is nausea, or maybe it is the fact that you are losing your mind, your mind turns blank and subconsciously mutters incoherent words, or worse, sings nursery rhymes, trying to calm your nerves.

Pat­-a-­cake, pat-­a-­cake, baker's man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can

Pat it, and roll it, and mark it with a "B"

And put it in the oven for baby and me

 Pat-­a-­cake, pat­-a­-cake, baker's man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can

Mix it, and stir it, and bake it just right

Good from the first 'til the very last bite

 Pat-­a-­cake, pat­-a-­cake baker's man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can

Make it with chocolate, and make it with cream

Make it the prettiest you've ever seen

 Somehow the voices around you are quiet. But still, you are afraid to open your eyes, until you feel a soft pat on your shoulder. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

You slowly open your eyes, to find a familiar man in front of you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Hoseok?”

Hoseok sighs in relief. “Thank God, I thought you’d gone crazy.” He laughs. “Wait, let me untie you.”

He does, and you rise from your chair, legs wobbly, and look around the room. Wendy, who was beside you, is held down to the ground by some man, there’s blood seeping from her back. Another agent forces Chanyeol to walk outside. His hands are tied behind him; Chanyeol doesn’t even glance at you. And Baekho...

You can’t see him clearly, as he is covered with a white cloth. The way his blood drips from his unconscious body, you know that he’s dead. A man died. A man killed another man in the same room as you are. You put your hand on your mouth, willing yourself not to vomit in this place.

Hoseok runs to your side and holds your arms gently. “Are you okay? Can you walk?” You nod weakly. Your mind is still processing all of these things.

Why is Hoseok here? Who is he? What the fuck is going on?

Another man walks over to you. His dark eyes show concern. “Y/N, right? Let me walk you outside. There's an ambulance waiting outside to check on you.” You nod again, having no will to argue or refuse. The man puts his hand on your back while the other hand holds your arm, guiding you outside. It’s already dark outside, crowded with police and also the other people who are just curious about what happened.

He then walks you to the ambulance and the paramedics quickly examine you. Luckily, there are no major injuries. You only have a little wound in the corner of your mouth and a graze on your shoulder from the firing incident. After the paramedic treats you, the man covers your shoulder with a blanket and hands you a cup of water. “Thank you,” you whisper.

The man smiles, his eyes turning into thin lines. “You’re welcome. Taehyung will be here soon.” He pats your shoulder.

At the sound of his name, your head perks up. “Taehyung?” You look at him in confusion. What is Taehyung doing here?

Just when you want to ask him about Taehyung, you see his familiar form run towards him. “Jimin! Where is Y/N?” he asks hurriedly.

Your eyes widen with the sudden arrival of Taehyung. His hair is messy, his forehead is wet with sweat, his breaths are uneven. He carries a rifle slung over his shoulder by a strap. His eyes fall on you and he sighs in relief. He drops his rifle to the ground and runs to you.

Without even thinking, you run to him too, dropping the glass and letting the blanket fall to the ground. The two of you meet in the middle. Taehyung pulls you into his embrace, kissing your face over and over. “Oh my God, muffin. Are you okay?” he asks with worry.

Hearing his voice and feeling the way he hugs you, you feel more alive than ever. You are relieved, you feel safe. And with that realization, your eyes flood with tears. “Tae... I’m sorry.” Your body shakes uncontrollably.

Taehyung feels his heart sinking to his feet. He hates it the most when you cry. “No, muffin. I’m the one who should be sorry. I should be the one to protect you. I am sorry.” He hugs you tighter, running his hand on your head, stroking lovingly to calm you down. “I am glad that you are okay.”

“There’s a dead man,” you sob, burying your face in his chest.

“Shh... I know, muffin.” He pulls away from you, taking your face in his hand. His heart drops when he sees the wound on your face. He grits his teeth; he is so going to kill Chanyeol. How dare he hurt you?

You search his face. “Tae?”

Taehyung realizes your confusion and shakes his head profusely to clear his mind. Right now, the most important thing is you, you are alive in front of him. He leans in and gives a chaste kiss on your lips, not wanting to hurt you more. He wipes the tears on your face and pulls you into his hug again. Chanyeol can wait.

What matters most now is you.

An awkward cough erupts behind you, making you and Taehyung pull away from each other. “Sorry to disturb you guys. Jin wants to talk to you,” the man named Jimin says as he hands the phone to Taehyung.

Taehyung walks you to the back of the ambulance to let you sit there. Jimin wraps you again with a blanket. Taehyung’s hand still holds your hand tightly, not wanting to let you go, even for just a bit. He puts the phone up to his ear with his free hand. “Yes, Jin-hyung?”

You look at Taehyung warily and divert your attention to the other man beside you, who is looking at you with twinkling eyes. He looks curious and happy at the same time. “Oh, right. I’m Jimin. Tae’s friend.”

“I’m Y/N. I am...” Your voice quietens. “I-I am also Tae’s friend.” You have never talked about your relationship with him. You know that maybe boyfriend is too much, but a friend?

Jimin smiles knowingly. Anyone who saw you and Taehyung would think the same as him. How you and Taehyung hugged each other for dear life, how you look at each other, how you hold each other’s hands tightly, it’s not just any friendship. Jimin is happy for his friend. Even before Hawaii, Taehyung has never been like this. You must be someone special for him to make him fall so deep like this.

“I don’t want to!” Taehyung snaps, making you and Jimin look at him curiously. “Y/N is not going to the HQ.”

You are perplexed at the sound of your name. After the fog of the shootout, your mind starts functioning again. You collect the puzzle pieces. Taehyung told you that he is an agent, and he used that big gun. He is an agent, and you just now realize it, that Taehyung has never lied to you even once.

You squeeze his hand to make him look at you. “Tae, I’m fine,” you say softly. “If that’s something I must do, I can do it.”

Taehyung grits his teeth in displeasure and sighs. “Fine. 30 minutes.”

Taehyung opened the trunk of Jungkook’s car, grabbing a rifle from the case. He touched the rifle softly, unsure of what to do. His fingers trembled. A memory from the war 5 years ago filled his head. He heard the sudden cry from a child in the flashback.  He balled his hands into fists and closed his eyes.

Jimin walked silently behind him and patted his shoulder. “Are you okay? Can you do this?”

His war flashback turned into a dying girl covered in blood on the beach in Hawaii. His love, who almost died 2 years ago. Who he loved so dearly and yet never loved him back. A woman who will never be his.

And then he saw you, slowly walking into his life.

You with a pout on your face and a blush that formed on your cheeks when he flirted with you. You, with a smile plastered on your face when he came to your apartment and hid that smile quickly when he looked at you. You, with tears flowing like a waterfall every time you watched Disney movies.

You, who always accepted him with open arms.

He opened his eyes and turned to Jimin. “Chim, please keep her safe…” he begged as his hands gripped Jimin’s shoulder tightly.

Jimin smiled at him knowingly. “Of course I will, Tae.” He pulled Taehyung into a hug and stroked his back to reassure him. “I am so happy that you found someone.”

Taehyung gulped, trying to hold his tears. “I don’t want to lose her. She is everything to me now.”

“I know.” Jimin then pulled away from his best friend and gave him a smack on his back. “Now go save your woman!”

The ride to the Company’s HQ is quiet. Hoseok drives with his eyes on the road, sometimes peeking in the rearview mirror. Jimin sits beside him; he looks like he’s holding himself from talking to you and Taehyung.

And Taehyung?

He has been holding your hand since you first saw him a while ago. He soothes your hand softly to calm you down, and sometimes bring your hand to his lips. You can’t guess what’s inside his head, his dark eyes are unreadable.

You step out of the car when Hoseok stops in the driveway. Your feet stumble; Taehyung drags you through the security, silently showing his badge to the guards. You’ve never thought you would set foot in this building. The last time you went here, you only stayed in front of the building.

The people inside the building walk quickly, looking busy. You thought that you would see people in suits walking around with guns in their hands, but instead it looks like a usual office. They even have a private Starbucks in the lobby, next to a stall that you assume as a burger joint. You frown your eyebrows. Duh, Y/N! Do you think you’d find a donut shop there?

You walk to the elevator after a woman in the receptionist area gives you access with a card. Still, the elevator ride is quiet, only filled with the sound of Jimin tapping his feet impatiently beside you.

“Alright! I give up!” Jimin says to Hoseok. Jimin then hands a 10000 won bill to Hoseok. “I just can’t keep quiet like this. This is killing me!”

Hoseok slips the bill into his chest pocket. “Aha! I knew you would lose, Park Jimin!” His smile spreads to his face.

Jimin snorts. “Fine! I lost! I don’t care anymore!” He then shifts his gaze to you. “So how did you meet Tae?”

You blink your eyes several times, confused with the sudden question. Jimin’s face looks so happy, it almost intimidates you. “Wh-What?”

“You know what I meant!” Jimin says. “I knew a little already from Hoseok, but I still want to hear from your side of the story! Did Taehyung force you to meet him? Or you were the one who chased him?”

“Alright, Chim. Not a good time.” Taehyung interrupts as you arrive on the 7th floor. “And what do you think you are doing?” You step out of the elevator, following Taehyung.

Jimin whines as he follows both of you. “I’m just curious! I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“PARK JIMIN!” Taehyung yells, you can see his cheeks turn bright red. The tightness in your chest loosens; you were nervous before, but this unfamiliar banter somehow eases your nerves. Jimin and Hoseok genuinely care for Taehyung; they’re not just being complete dickheads. You giggle softly at Taehyung’s sudden shyness, which he realizes. “Please don’t join him to tease me.” He tugs your hand softly.

He tries to sound mad, but in fact, he is a little grateful to Jimin and Hoseok. They are trying to help you feel comfortable, and he is happy about that. But still, it is embarrassing for him.

Taehyung stops in front of a big grey door; he raises a hand to open the door, but stops midair. He then turns his face to you. “Are you sure about this?”

You gently squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, Tae. And besides, I am not doing anything wrong. I shouldn’t be afraid, right?” you ask, waiting for reassurance.

Taehyung bites his lips. “Well, it can be a little scary sometimes.”

You gulp. Maybe this is a bad idea? Taehyung didn’t want you to do it in the first place, shouldn’t you just follow him? But, you thought he would get into trouble if he keeps doing this. And you don’t want him to be.

Hoseok pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m going inside too. It’s only an interview, don’t be intimidated by Jin-hyung.” He smiles and opens the door, letting you enter the room first.

You take a quick glance at Taehyung’s face when Hoseok closes the door. “Taehyung is not coming?”

Hoseok smiles comfortingly. “He is too emotional at this point, so, No.” He points you to a seat in front of him. “You want a drink? Coffee or tea?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Suddenly the door opens and a man with broad shoulders enters. “Hi! You must be Y/N. I’m Jin.” He takes a seat beside Hoseok, opening his laptop. “Let’s just do this as fast as possible, okay?”

The questioning starts. They ask you simple questions at first, like your name, age, occupation, and anything that identifies you. After that Hoseok starts asking about Chanyeol and your kidnapping.

“How would you describe your relationship with Park Chanyeol? How often did you meet each other?”

“I think we were friends? We went to the same school before, I helped him one time. We then met again after many years when he handed his magazine to me at my bakery. Then we went to dinner that night, had some conversations. A few days later, he came rushing to my shop handing me a proposal for this event. And before the event, he came to the store once. That’s it,” you explain.

“So, you had no other relationship with him?” Jin asks.

You shake your head. You then suddenly think about Baekho. “Although, I also know Baekho.”

Jin and Hoseok turn stiff. “You know Lee Baekho?”

You look at their reaction, silently regretting telling them. Did I say something wrong? “Yes. He went to the same school too. Not in culinary, but I saw him once or twice maybe?”

Jin moves his laptop aside, directly looking at you. “How do you describe your relationship with Lee Baekho then, Miss Y/N?”

You gulp, absolutely getting intimidated by him. “I just know him. He also asked me out in the past. But I rejected him.”

“And?” Jin pushes.

You fiddle with your shirt unconsciously. “He didn’t take it well. He kinda harassed me about it, and spread a rumor about me.”

“What kind of rumor?”

“I don’t know the specific reason because we were in different social circles. But someone said he edited my face onto nudes?”

“And you were mad about it?”

“But it’s not like I could do anything. He had too much power in the school, like that guy Chanyeol? He was one of his friends -- well, he said that he was a slave though.”

Jin nods. “Okay, let me rephrase this.” He then stands up and walks to you. “So, you were mad when he did that to you in the past, and you couldn't do anything to defend yourself.”

“Yeah?” You answer timidly, not sure what he is trying to say.

Jin looks down at you with suspicion. “Were you or were you not planning this with Chanyeol?” he snaps.

Your eyes widen. “What?” You almost yell. “No! Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Revenge maybe?” He shrugs his hands.

“What?” Does this guy think you are complicit? “Look, I studied hard in my 2 years in school, I couldn’t bother to date any guy. I don’t fucking care what he did to me because it was just a rumor, it would die eventually. I don’t really care about what people said behind my back.”

“But still, you have a motive.”

“That’s just baseless!” you snap back. “I never met him even once after I graduated. And I’m doing great right now. Why would I throw away my life to just kill him?” Your eyes divert to Hoseok in front of you, who is also speechless.

Jin slaps the table hard, making you wince. “Then why are you suddenly approaching Taehyung? Or maybe you know that Taehyung is an agent and used him for your own gain? Making an alibi?”

You are perplexed and mad, and almost crying in frustration. It is just too much for you to comprehend. You can’t understand why this man suddenly put you in the corner. Whatever you said, he turned it back to you. You’re supposed to be a victim, but why did he treat you as a criminal?

Just before you answer anything, Taehyung barges into the room, looking mad. “That’s enough, Hyung.” He grabs your hand tightly, pulling you to the door.

“Kim Taehyung! You can’t just do this as you like. This is still an interrogation, and it’s far from over. She’s under suspicion!” Jin yells, grabbing Taehyung’s arm.

He jerks his hand away. “She’s a victim! Why are you being so hard on her?”

Jin snorts. “It’s just a common procedure. She might be lying.”

Taehyung looks at him with a stare that could freeze the Han River solid. “Not every woman is going to lie to you, Hyung” he whispers, making Jin wince. “I trust Y/N. And besides, I was the one who chased after her.”

“Maybe she made you think like that,” Jin says, folding his arms across his chest.

Hoseok, sensing the sour situation, stood up. “Alright-alright. Enough with this. Tae, we have finished the interrogation for now, so you can take Y/N home.” Without waiting a second, Taehyung grabs your hand, leading you quickly outside.

Back in the room, Hoseok turns to face Jin. “And you. That’s too far, Hyung. You barely had evidence, and yet you pushed her. It’s just not right.”

Jin clenches his fists and sighs. He then takes his laptop and stomps away, not wanting to say anything.

Hoseok is left alone in the interrogation room, looking around the bare walls of the empty room. He sighs. What the fuck just happened?  He walks out of the room. Maybe Jin was right, you were suspicious, you even have a motive. But that doesn’t mean that you want to kill Baekho.

Hoseok doesn’t need any more quarrels in his team. The only thing they should think about is whether Baekhyun is involved in this and why Jiseok suddenly tipped them that someone targeted Baekho.

Jin is losing his mind, he needs to move on too. He chuckles. Why do people around him always have a problem?

You walk in the middle of the night back to your apartment, draped in Taehyung’s jacket. You are not feeling the cold as the warmth and the scent from his jacket envelop you, calming you down. But even in the chilly wind, his hands are still the warmest things. He holds your hand in his, a steady reassurance of his presence.

As Taehyung opens your apartment door with his key, you suddenly remember that you have no stuff with you. You dropped your phone in the hall and your purse was still in the rental car. You turn to him. “Ehm. I think I need to go back to the hall. My purse is in the car,” you say cautiously.

He throws the key to the kitchen table and walks to the couch. “We will get your purse tomorrow. Just rest for tonight.”

“But, I also need to return the car before midnight. They’ll charge me more if I don’t,” you say as you follow close behind him. Your face bumps his back when he suddenly stops.

He turns to face you, you can see his eyes burn with fury, making you step backward. “Are you seriously thinking about that stupid rental car right now? You almost fucking died!”

“I know, but I am really fine! See?” You show him your hands and feet, waving them vigorously between you.

“That’s because I shot a fucking woman beside you,” he hisses. “Why are you so stubborn?”

You wince, completely aghast by his sudden rampage. “I am not. You see...”

“Listen to me!” he yells and runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

There is an awkward silence in your apartment. All you hear is the hum as the refrigerator switches on. You don’t understand what he is thinking, why he is behaving like this. You do know that he is worried about you, but still, you can’t comprehend why he does this to this extent. Even before, he was being overprotective of you, and now after this incident, it’s tripled.

He sighs and says again in a much softer tone. “Please listen to me, muffin.”

“Why?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

Your tears form on the edges of your eyes, threatening to fall. “Why are you like this?” you ask in a whisper.

Taehyung's heart sinks at seeing your tears. “Muffin...” He reaches out his hand to wipe your tears, but you brush his hand away.

“Just answer me...” You know he’s holding something back. There’s a piece of him that he isn’t sharing with you, and you just wish he would be honest.

“I just don’t want to lose you...”

You sigh, so frustrated with him. “I can take care of myself.”

“I’ve heard that from someone before and it didn’t go well.” Taehyung twists his lips, already regretting having said it. “And what happened tonight showed you couldn’t take care of yourself.”

“Is this because of that girl? That one in the diner? What happened between you two anyway? You clearly are still thinking about her!”

His body turns stiff. “What are you talking about?”

You tighten your hands into fists and cast your head down. “I am not that girl, Taehyung. I can’t be her. You should know that.”

You are saying nonsense things right now; the words pour out of your mouth without thinking. Maybe it is because of so many things happening tonight, or maybe because there are so many things in your heart and your mind. Or maybe it has been in your head several times, but never left your mouth.

Maybe Taehyung just sees you as a replacement for his past love. Maybe he really thinks of you as a palate cleanser. Maybe he just does those sweet things to other women. Maybe you are the only one who wants more. Why are you thinking so highly of yourself?

His eyes widened in bewilderment. “Of course I know that!” He grabs your hand softly. “I never thought of you as her, Y/N. Never once. Well, maybe at first I just used you to help me forget her, but what we had is beyond that.”

You jerk your head up to meet his eyes. “Then why are you doing this?”

Taehyung’s hand lingers on your cheek. Instead of answering you, he leans in and pecks your lips softly. He pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. It is so unfair. Not only does he read you like an open book, he even has a cheat code. He knows how to comfort you. So unfair.

“The one we met in the diner, I almost lost her, and I meant it literally. She was hurt in the mission. She was bleeding so much, she even went into cardiac arrest. She was on the verge of death.” He sinks his head to your shoulder. “It was traumatizing to have my close friend in that state. I just... I don’t want to lose anyone ever again. Furthermore, I don’t want to lose you.”

He takes a deep breath, taking in your scents. “I am sorry that I made you think like that, Y/N. But I really never think of you that way.” He looks into your eyes. “Please believe me.”

If you were your past-self, you would be pushing him away now. You would call him a liar. You would never give him a chance. But since you’ve met him, you decided to start trusting him, trusting people more. He opens your heart and your mind. You hug him back. “I’m sorry.”

Taehyung kisses your head softly. “I am sorry I yelled at you.” You melt into his touch, sinking your face deeper. “Let’s just rest for tonight, okay?”

You nod weakly. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He pulls away and pats your head lovingly. He takes your hand, guiding you to your bed.

Maybe you’re naive to trust him this much, after getting taken in by a classmate of all people. You still don’t know much about Taehyung’s line of work, his dangerous, well-dressed friends, and his apparently deadly skill with a gun. Maybe it is wrong, a bad decision, or maybe it is even the right decision. You don’t know. But you have to do what your heart tells you to do. You decide to trust him.

The following morning you wake up early and have time to think. If your old self from 5 years ago could see you right now, she would slap you in the face so hard you’d see stars. Maybe she would drag you to a convent, so you wouldn’t meet any men. But before she drags you, you would actually hug her. You would tell her that hating men will not be the answer. You would tell her that everything is going to be okay. You would tell her that she would find someone too, that she should give herself a chance to love someone.

Taehyung snuggles closely to your body, his hands holding your waist, his limbs nestle against your skin, protecting you from the outside world. He breathes slowly, still deep in his sleep. His hair is in disarray, a small pout pasted on his beautiful face. You look at his face carefully, finding the fine hairs around his mouth cute.

You run your fingers through his hair. You always like his hair. It is kind of curly and bouncy. It is not the first time you feel envious of his hair. His hair is shiny and soft compared to yours. Sure, maybe it is because you usually bleached it by yourself at home with Hani’s help before, and now your hair is dry and split. Maybe you should ask him where he gets his done.

Taehyung stirs with your touch, opening his eyes slowly. “Hey.” He sinks his head to your chest, hugging you tightly.

You can’t get enough of this.

“Hey to you too.” You stroke his hair. “Don’t you need to go to work? I think your phone has been ringing several times already”

“Don’t wanna,” he murmurs in your chest.

You smile at his antics. “Won’t you get into trouble?”

He hugs you tightly. “Don’t care.”

You giggle, hugging him back. “Oh, right. I need to find my phone.”

“It’s in my jacket.”

You gawk and hit him softly on the shoulder. “And why didn't you give it to me yesterday!”

Taehyung hums in your chest. “Oh, I also forget to tell Hani about you. She might be worried sick.”

You push him away abruptly. “And you couldn't say anything until just now?” You slide from your bed, walking to his jacket to find your phone. “Jesus, I can’t understand you.” You quickly dial Hani’s number to reassure her.

Taehyung sits as he watches you trying to explain yourself to your best friend on the phone. He can even hear Hani’s yelling faintly. He smiles mischievously when you put your middle finger towards him and glare. Even just that small action of you, it makes his heart racing.

It is weird. He can’t understand it.

He thought that he only had one chance to love someone, and when he lost her, he was almost sure he wouldn’t love or even meet anyone. But it changed when he met you. It changed when you decided to help him.

How come he became so attached to you? How come he wants you so damn much? How come you always take his breath away?

Taehyung rises from the bed and walks closer to you.

Maybe it's fate, when he found your bakery and met you for the first time. Maybe it’s chemistry, when you talked to him and slept with him the first time. Maybe it’s jealousy when he saw you with Chanyeol and when he hugged you.

Taehyung was never a hopeless romantic, but hell yeah. Maybe it’s love.

You turn your phone off and face him. “Well, thanks to you, she didn’t sleep at all last night. I can’t even understand her voice with her crying loudly like that. She also wanted to yell at you but first, she wanted to thank you. But still, you shouldn’t forget about Hani, she-“

Suddenly, Taehyung kisses you, interrupting your tirade, catching you off-guard. He kisses hard and quick. He then pulls away, to look at your face. “I-I think I am in love with you,” he says as he rests his forehead on yours.

His declaration makes you stunned. So out of the blue. So Taehyung. You do know that you both feel something about each other. But you never thought that you would hear it from him.

That he loves you.

Your heart is racing as your tears begin to fall. How many times have you cried in front of him since you’ve met? You’ve lost count. You don’t care. You can’t believe those words have this so much effect on you. You can’t believe how he affects you this much.

Taehyung senses your silence and looks at your face. “I am sorry, is that a bad thing for me to do?” He starts to panic as he wipes your tears.

You shake your head quickly. “No. Not at all. I just can’t believe I would hear it.” You smile softly.

“But I don’t want to rush anything. I want to do this carefully. I know you are still in the process of moving on. And so am I,” he blabs. “Oh. Not that I am still in love with that girl. I just thought-“

It’s your turn to stop his talk. You peck his lips quickly, making him blush. “That’s fine with me.” You grin from ear to ear, feeling drunk with happiness. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

He pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly. “Should we go on a date, then?”

You chuckle. “Fine by me. Maybe another place besides that diner?”

He smiles, the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Good call.” He leans in to give you another kiss. And after countless kisses you shared with him, it might be your most favorite one. That one kiss that declared a love for each other.

You never thought you would have this feeling.

Happiness. Love. Longing.

Sure, life is full of unexpected things. You thought you would just ride the bus for 2 stops, but you ended up sitting for another 4 stops because you dozed off. You thought you would just sit for a coffee, but then you ended up ordering a slice of cake because it looked delicious. You thought you would just eat the bread for a palate cleanser between the wine, but you ended enjoying the bread more than the wine. You turned to a man for comfort and to comfort him back, but ended up falling in love with him.

It was unexpected.

But you don’t dislike that a bit.

Maybe Hani was right, you did need a palate cleanser.

And now, your palate is pretty cleansed, and you are ready for the main course. Or maybe...

“How about another piece of bread?” you smile at Taehyung, as you drag him to the kitchen for the favorite part of your day, breakfast with him.

Epilogue

“You must be kidding me! That can’t be possible!” Jin yells.

Jungkook who has the report in his hand, winces. “I know Hyung. But that’s what the forensic report said.” He points to the part of the report which states: respiratory arrest-asphyxia. “The gunshot was fired after he died, apparently.”

“But when he was killed?” Yoongi asks back.

Hoseok thinks for a bit. “You know, Y/N said that Baekho was hyperventilating before he was shot. Maybe he had some disease? Or maybe he was poisoned?”

Jin runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Alright then, Jungkook you go back to the forensics and investigate his cause of death. Yoongi will check the CCTV recordings, to see if he was drugged before he was in the warehouse. We still need to check on Baekhyun’s whereabouts too.”

As the other agents scatter from Jin’s office, Jungkook lingers longer. “Can you assign someone else to the forensics?” he asks warily.

Jin looks at him suspiciously. “Look, Kook. I want to help you, but the fact is we are in a bigger case than we thought. Please don’t make me yell at you. You are a professional.”

Jungkook sighs. “You are right. I am sorry. I‘ll investigate it immediately.” He nods and walks out of the office. He hates to go to the forensic department, but he can’t avoid it forever. He repeats Jin’s words to himself. He needs to be professional.

He must face her.

Go check the other series because *sst... It’s all connected!

Series Masterlist: The Company

Taglist: @kb-bangtanenthusiast​ @w0lfqu33n​ @gee-nee​ @jaienn​ @nctssidehoe​

#bts au #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts kim taehyung #kim taehyung #btsgoldnet #btsbookclub #thehouseofbangtan #networkbangtan #hyunglinenetwork #btsguild #thebtsficarchive #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #bighitcity #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #bangtanfairygarden #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #bts v #bts #bangtan scenarios #bangtan au #bts fiction

[lilydalexf]

Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.

Interview with Circe Invidiosa

Circe Invidiosa has 11 stories at Gossamer, but there are even more X-Files stories at her website. Some of my favs I’ve recced here before, like Make It Worse and Slap a Goatee On Me and Call Me Evil. She also made a bunch of X-Files collage art, including some cover art for fics (hers and others), which you probably saw if you were reading fic back when authors posted fics on their own websites where art could be shared. Big thanks to Circe Invidiosa for doing this interview.

Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?

Well, it would surprise me if people did read my fic. As it happens, I don't hear much feedback from my fic these days. Probably because the bulk of it is on Gossamer and my own site rather than AO3. Also, I was never a BNA. I worked a lot behind the scenes – hosting other authors' sites and making fanart and dustjackets. I think that's what I'd be remembered for, if anything.

What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience?

I miss the collective excitement and discussions we had as groups. When you got in with a group in the XF fandom, you felt like you knew everybody there. Now the fandom feels a little faceless except for the people I still follow from my old groups.

Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?

Most of my experience was on Yahoo Groups. I joined Scullyfic while it was still there and then E-muse when it became an e-mail list, which I'm still a part of. I was part of several Yahoo Groups (can't remember all of them now), where I'd post my fic, RealPlayer slideshows (remember those?!), and collages. I never really took part in discourse because I'm shy and don't think anyone cares about my opinions (still don't!). The e-mail address I used for those groups was purged a couple of years ago, so I've lost all those messages.

What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?

My take away is that fanfic made me a better writer, thanks to having some great betas, and it made me a better professional writer for it (my real-life work is writing but not fun writing) because I learned to take criticism.

I also used to make a lot of fanart, collages and dustjackets for fic mostly. My big take away from that was that I really got into graphics and I got super proficient at Photoshop, which helped my own artistic endeavours and photography. I didn't realize how much skill I had developed until I've had to help someone with their graphics or photo editing.

What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?

My mother was watching X-Files before I was and she was raving about it. I don't have a great relationship with my mom, but one thing she was usually right about was TV shows. It's where I got my love of Sci-Fi.

I think the first episode I watched was Ice, which definitely hooked me. As for when the shipping started, I remember we were watching Lazarus, and when Mulder was yelling at Lula (I had to look that up) about hurting the hostage Scully, my mom said, "Oh, he's so in love with her." And I was all, "What?! Pfff." But then I could not stop thinking about it. And then I thought about it way, way too much.

What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?

I was in my late 20s, and it was around the end of S7 and I kept thinking about what if these two dumb idiots actually talked one day. And I kept thinking about dialogue in my head about what they'd actually say. The internet was still in its infancy back then, but I'd seen fan sites here and there. So I decided to search around to see if other people were talking about it and thinking about it like I was. I was such a noob I'd never even heard of fanfic. Imagine my delight when I discovered it. I found a few stories and thought, 'Well, I can do that.' And I wrote up my first story, found a place to post it (wasn't Ephemeral the best?), got some kind feedback, found a really nice person (not sure she wants to be named since she used her real name in the fandom back in the day) who encouraged me a lot and directed me to all the e-mail lists and Yahoo Groups that I needed to be on, and then, Bob's your uncle, I wrote more and more.

What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?

Periphery. Most of my experience in any fandom is now on Tumblr because that's where my attention span is. Show me pretty pictures and funny stuff. I am old now and don't want to think hard.

Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?

Veronica Mars was my next fandom experience. A number of my XF friends got me hooked on VM. The VM fandom was a LOT younger compared to the XF fandom. When I joined the XF fandom, I was the kid compared to most of the other fans who were all goddesses and royalty in my eyes. But in the VM fandom, I was in my 30s and the rest of the fandom were all in their early 20s if not younger. It often showed, so I stayed out of discussions and just posted my fic once I started writing it. I took a new handle (invida) when I started writing VM fic. Just in case these kids felt like my writing sucked, I didn't want it getting back to the XF fandom that I’d branched out and failed spectacularly.

By then fandom experiences had moved over to LiveJournal. I never really got involved in the discourse or the fandom fights. I knew what people were saying and where the schisms were, but I was all about the fanfic and the pretty pictures. Most of my LJ friends just discussed the episodes and posted their fic and that was good with me.

What got me writing fic for VM was Anjou's brilliant VM fic Into the Blue. Seriously, if you love VM S1, read her fic. Just so beautiful.

VM was also where started writing a WIP, which was a wild trip. I wrote a much-loved WIP called Damn, Damn the Circumstance which people still ask me about finishing to this day. Someday…*wistful sighs*

Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?

Scully. She was everything! Lapsed Catholic, degrees in science, skeptic, always trying to work within the rules but still not taking crap. Yeah, she was the best.

Veronica Mars was great until she wasn't. I have a lot of issues with her beyond S2. And don't even talk to me about S4. For me, S1 was the best, I enjoyed the movie, the books were okay, but nothing else happened after that. NOTHING.

And the first character I ever loved was Princess Leia. She was also everything to me growing up. I wanted to be her. I still do.

Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?

Now and then. Not as much as I used to. I sometimes have it on in the background when I'm doing other things. Back before the pandemic, my BFF and I would have get togethers where we would play Scrabble, eat a lot of candy, and binge several XF episodes. I miss doing that. Hopefully, we will get back to that soon.

Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?

I am not an active XF fanfic reader right now. I will read any stories my friends put out. Otherwise, I only occasionally read some I come across on Tumblr in my feed, but I am not seeking them out. I will beta for any XF author who asks me as well.

I am reading fic in other fandoms though – Endeavour, Broadchurch, Sherlock…huh, I'm just realizing that's a lot of British stuff. I have been really into British detective series for the last few years.

Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?

I used to run an XF fic recommendation site called How Will It End usually with at least one other person (I went through at least 4 partners on that project because I'm a control freak). We'd compile our recs and then I'd post them on my site. We'd also feature authors we really liked and interview them. Not unlike these interviews!

I'm terrible at giving feedback/comments. So I solved that problem by making a rec site. That way I could tell authors I loved their fics by recommending them. I didn't have to comment, I'd just say, 'I'd like to rec your fic'. And then they'd get promotion. Win-win. Back in those days, the fandom would absolutely roast you for promoting your own fic, so to get on a rec site was a big deal. Not that I had a popular rec site or anything. But I think authors really enjoyed being asked.

All that to say I've liked a lot of fics. I can pull up the archives of HWIE and show you all the faves I liked. :)

What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?

Back in the day, E-muse would hold Improv Challenges, where other members would give you a prompt that you had to include in your fic. I was always really proud of the stories I created from those challenges (No Earthly Means and Elephant in the Room if you want to read them).

I enjoyed writing Dead to Rights which is an XF/Dead Like Me crossover because I loved the challenge of writing a crossover. It was the first crossover I ever tried writing even though I only recently published it.

Otherwise, I like re-reading In a Graveyard, Importuning Life for Life, and Some By Virtue Fall. Of my more recent fic, I like Slap a Goatee on Me and Call Me Evil because the premise was ridiculous and I think it's funny as all get out.

Probably my favourite of my VM fic was Stay Outta Riverdale. Because: 1. The title is a Simpsons reference who doesn't love a Simpsons reference? And 2. I think I was hilarious throughout it.

Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?

I'm always open to writing more fic (and, of course, I don't mean my WIPs…don't look at me like that). Lately, my only motivation has been from writing prompts on Tumblr. I haven't had anyone give me a prompt in over a year, so here we are. I have snippets of dialogue in journals and word documents that have never found their way into stories. I'd be happy to dust off any of those and shoehorn them into a new story.

Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?

The last fanfic I wrote was a mini-fic over a year ago (with a prompt from Lilydale!). I've written a bit of original fiction but I haven't been able to finish it. Otherwise, I do have a number of real life hobbies which are where my creative outlets lie now.

Where do you get ideas for stories?

Lately, challenges and prompts. It used to be from wanting to see more from a scene. I really had a thing for fill-in-the-blanks or scene continuations. And sometimes my motivation is just plain old spite. :)

What's the story behind your pen name?

Circe Invidiosa is the title of a painting by John William Waterhouse. Love the colours and the absolute malice on the face of the subject. It felt like a good pen name – the envious witch. That's me!

I chose it when I posted my first XF fic (which I cringe to read now, ugh so terrible) without knowing there was already a Circe in the fandom. Whoops. I tried to go by the full Circe Invidiosa or Invidiosa as much as possible after realizing that (invidiosa is my url and my username on a lot of sites, etc.). Now I think that I've been around long enough that it doesn't matter as much but I still like it.

As I said, I took the name Invida for the VM fandom which is just a shortening of Invidiosa.

Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?

My significant other knows and that was quite a reveal (oh how awkward). However, the SO has been very supportive and has read all my stories since the reveal and sometimes betas them. The SO also wants us to collaborate on writing some original fiction but we haven't found a project that works for both of us creatively or timewise.

My BFF knows because I dragged her into the online fandom. We've known each other since we were 14, but our love of XF really solidified our bond in our 20s. She wrote some short but sweet fics under the penname Helen Quilley which I bullied her into posting, and we wrote Of Ladies Most Deject and Wretched together. She is mostly embarrassed that she wrote fanfic now but we still fangirl together.

No one else really knows other than fandom folks I've met in real life. And some friends know I've written 'short stories' but I don't elaborate. I work in a stodgy, uptight industry where anything fun or actually having a life is frowned upon.

Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?

Over the first lockdown, I got my shit together and got my fic site, invidiosa.com, up and running again. My site houses fic by Rain (now @doctorhelena on Tumblr and AO3), Helen Quilley, ML (who I miss so much), Folieadeux, Shelba, TLynn, Oracle, Piper Sargasso, Diehard, and me. And I made all their dustjackets (except Folie's). The site got hacked a few years back and it was so much work to get running again that I put it off for years and years. I still feel terrible that I did not get the site back up before ML passed away, especially when ML had asked me about it a few months before she passed.

Anyway, all my XF fic is here: circe.invidiosa.com. I have 3 of my newer XF stories on AO3. And my fic-LJ also has some of my stories. Some of the newer stories are on Tumblr but the tagging is so erratic that I'd have to list several tags before you'd find them all. I don't know why I haven't moved everything over to AO3. Probably laziness.

I'm @invidiosa on Tumblr. I'm still on E-muse. I'm still on LJ. I'm always reachable by e-mail (invidiosa at gmail).

Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?

Thanks for reading, writing, and commenting. It is always appreciated.

(Posted by Lilydale on January 5, 2021)

#new post #old school x #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #xf fanfic author interviews #circe invidiosa

[shianhygge-imagines]

Silver Rose [Vergil/Reader] {Devil May Cry} Umbral Angelo

AN: I managed to finish this one in record time, and am already working on the next chapter. I’m intending the next chapter to be a bit of a dive into V and Vergil’s mentality, so it’s going to be a bit tricky to write... and a bit long. (If you take a look into my masterlist, I’ve already titled the next chapter “Bury the Light” so I’m going to try extra hard to make the next chapter worthy of the song.)

On another note: I’m probably going to start using my handwritten banner for this series from now on. I’ve noticed that gifs are rather intense for loading on certain devices/internet speed... and I’m tired of looking for appropriate gifs to use. I may end up changing the banner once I get photoshop or something >.>

If you like the content I create, please consider donating to my Ko-fi! Please help me feed my tea addiction!

|Masterlist Link|    |First Chapter|    |Prev. Ch.| --- |Next Ch.|

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

15th June 06:03am

- V’s POV -

V watched as you raced to greet Nero with a flying tackle hug that nearly sent the one armed boy tumbling to the floor from the force of your excitement. The mortal half of Vergil couldn’t help but feel equal parts bitterness, sadness, envy, and longing as he watched you fuss over Nero with worry. As he was, V didn’t feel like he was capable of having a family. Not only was the mysterious man dying the longer he remained separated from his demonic half, but because he felt unworthy after everything that had transpired since the day his family home was burnt down. Although he longed for this, it was probably one of the biggest conflicts within him during the past few weeks with you… and one of the reasons why the days had passed with too much left unsaid.

“Nero! Light of my life! My reckless son!” You continued the embarrassing titles while straightening his jacket and hair, taking care to pat down the spots covered in rubble dust. “I’m so happy to see you! Nico did such a good job with your arm! Oh! But that last one broke-”

The demon hunter’s cheeks pinkened as his mother continued to fuss over him, “Mom,” he whined, embarrassed at the fact that a stranger like V had to bear witness to this. “It’s good to see you, too, but I’m fine. I got a spare arm here-” Nero gestures to the red colored mechanical limb attached to his hip, “-see? I’ll be fine. But enough about me, what are you doing here?”

Like mother, like son, I see. V mused with amusement when the pair of you completely ignored the dying Goliath. Shadow had stalked over to sit at your side with a content flicker of its tail while leaving his weakened master to slowly walk over. “Little wanderer…” V addressed the dying demon, raising his cane to deliver the killing blow, “hie thee home.”

Just as the massive demon faded into burning ashes, you and Nero stopped your fussing to address V’s arrival. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story, Nero.” Your grin is sheepish as you pointed at V with two hands, “Apparently, V’s been living like a hobo before he came to Devil May Cry for the job. Since he didn’t want to leave Red Grave City… and I have a house here, he kinda stayed with me the past few weeks.”

“Uh-huh.” Nero crossed his arms and leaned on one foot, his expression incredulous as blue-green eyes flickered between you and V. “You expect me to believe that your old house is still standing after over two weeks of this.” To V’s amusement, Nero nodded at the rubble and chaos that surrounded them as he finished his sentence.

Kid’s got a point. Griffon communicated telepathically as it circled the sky above their group.

You pouted and slumped over slightly, “… well, it’s not standing anymore.” You looked saddened and bitter at the loss of your home, something that V understood. It had been the home Vergil gifted you, and watching the structure of the building get torn in two had been a devastating loss to you both.

Nero grimaced and uncrossed his arms, pulling you into a comforting hug. “Shit, mom. I’m sorry.”

“It’s uh, one of the reasons why I’m here, actually.” You confessed, hugging your son back. “I’ve got business to settle with Urizen… and I’m sorry to intrude, but would it be okay to stay at the orphanage with you and Kyrie after this is all over?”

“Do you really gotta ask?” Nero smiled gently, pulling away. “Kyrie’s been begging me to ask you to come over. So, just take this as a permanent invitation, okay?” The boy’s attention diverged to V, who had settled to stand off to the side, “By the way, V… Thought I was gonna have to pick you out of his… uh… tummy teeth.”

V didn’t bother hiding the smirk that appeared on his face when you pulled away to look at the fading Goliath and promptly giggled when you realized that the dead demon did indeed have tummy teeth. “Pardon our delay.” The mysterious man holds up the collection of William Blake poems to show Nero, “I was… catching up on some reading.”

Nero’s eyes narrowed at the book, “Yeah… looks like a real page-turner.” The young man remarked dryly. In the background, V and Nero both noticed your renewed laughter at your son’s dry tone while a section of the Qliphoth Tree crumbled. “So uh… you think Dante’s still in there?” Nero asked V, the pair now watching as a path forward was cleared by the falling debris.

“If Urizen defeated him, then I expect he’s not much more than Qliphoth pollen by now.” The somber words from V’s mouth put a stop to your laughing, and while he hated when you were upset, he would rather stay honest when possible.

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

- Y/N’s POV -

You knew what a Qliphoth tree was, so you didn’t bother paying attention to V’s explanation, preferring to explore the area for anything remotely useful or valuable. Shadow followed after you, its red eyes watching your surroundings in case a demon tried to get a drop on you while away from V and Nero. “V may very well be right about Dante.” You muttered to the demon panther as you nudged a slab of concrete to the side with a foot. “But we’re also talking about Dante, here.” You smirk down at Shadow with hope, “He’s always been the lucky one out of the Sparda twins. Whether it be a winning prize popsicle, or taking on a demon overlord… Dante’s always been able to pull through…”

When you hear the distinct sound of a car smacking against slabs of stone, you turn to walk back towards your son and V, watching with barely concealed amusement at Nico’s antics. “You know, Shadow… Some days I wonder what would have happened to us if Vergil had even half the luck Dante has.” Ignoring Shadow’s questioning gaze, you wave at the trio waiting for you by the van. “Oh well, forget I mentioned.”

Once you were close enough, you plastered a carefree grin on your face, “Hey, Nico! Thanks for looking after my reckless son!”

“Wha-Hey!”

You and the aspiring legendary smith ignored Nero’s indignant cry. “Ah! Don’t mention it, Mrs. S! It’s always mah pleasure!”

“Bullshi, then why do you compl-”

“How much does he owe you for a new arm?”

“Mom! I can pa-”

“Nuh-uh, Mrs. S. Don’t worry about it.”

“D-Don’t worry about it?! What a load of-”

“Aw! You’re sweet as always, Nico!” You grin, walking around to enter the van with V in tow. “I’m looking forward to working with you!”

“Ditto, Mrs. S!”

Poor Nero looks like he’s about to have a fit from his seat inside the van. You feel slightly guilty for teasing your son in such a way, but quite frankly, you and Nico were having too much fun. To rain on your parade, when V climbs up the stairs to stand just behind you, he leans over to whisper in your ear, “Perhaps you shouldn’t tease the boy so much.”

And of course his father would be against my need to tease. You roll your eyes and sigh theatrically, “Alright, fine. I’m sorry, Nero. Please forgive your mother?” You know he already did, but you bat your lashes at him anyways for the fun of it.

Nero just shakes his head and folds his arms, “Just sit down. I don’t wanna risk you two falling and breaking something because of Nico’s shitty driving.”

You and V take a seat to the soundtrack of Nico’s indignant yelling.

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

15th June 06:26am

- Y/N’s POV -

“I think we should split into two groups.” V suggested as the group of you sat in the van while Nico worked in the back.

“… And cover more group. Good idea.” Nero finished, turning to leave the passenger seat.

“Three groups.” You amended, getting up to snatch the Totsuka from where you rested it. “We’re splitting into three groups to get rid of the Qliphoth roots, and I’m leaving no room for arguments.” You shot a challenging look at both Nero and V when they opened their mouths to protest.

“Wait, Mom. Are you sure about this? We could still get this done in two groups.” Nero stood up to stop you from leaving the van.

“Yes, I would rather we all play it safe as well.” V’s green eyes locked with yours, silently worried for your well-being.

Sighing, you lifted a hand to pat your son’s cheek fondly. “I’m touched that you’re both worried about me, but you both said it yourselves. We’re on a time limit if we want to stop Urizen. I have Nico’s number, okay? So if I run into any problems, I’ll make sure to call.” With that, you waved goodbye to Nico, Griffon, Nero, and V before departing from the group, jumping out of the van with a spring to your step.

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

15th June 08:30am

“Maybe I should have stuck with V.” You muttered out loud, back hand-springing off the wreckage of an industrial building to land on a sturdier platform. A few moments prior, you’d been strolling rather peacefully along the city’s central boulevard… or what was left of it anyways. When you noticed a peculiar figure standing in a dead-end of the collapsed street.

Having just dealt with a few lingering red Empusa stalking the streets and destroyed a few bundles of Qliphoth roots, you were still on high alert. For a moment, you simply stared at the tall imposing figure before it clicked in your mind how familiar the shape was. The last that you had seen that figure was a dark stormy night. “Nelo Angelo?” You whispered in disbelief, yanking the Totsuka from a dying Empusa and taking a step towards the imposing figure.

Of course, the moment you stepped towards Nelo Angelo’s direction, it turned its back on you and jumped atop the rubble blocking the street, only turning to look at you briefly before walking away. You weren’t naive enough to rule out a trap considering how close you were to the main Qliphoth’s structure, but if that phantom was connected to a main root… you would have to deal with him anyways. Sheathing the Totsuka, you followed after the figure, eyes set with flames of determination ablaze.

Which led to your current predicament: scaling collapsed buildings and platforms as you followed the figure of Nelo Angelo. “Honestly, why does every incarnation of Vergil make it their life’s goal to be difficult?” You cursed when your feet made contact with another unstable platform.

The floor gave away just as Nelo Angelo stopped to turn around, your eyes connecting for a moment before you plunged into what seemed to be a tunnel made by the Qliphoth roots. When you failed to grasp ahold of something to stop the fall, you cursed and fixed your position midair. Ah shit. Stick the landing. Stick the landi- You tucked and rolled to absorb the impact from the fall, but instead bounced as you rolled, “Oof!” You grunted when your back collided with a fleshy wall.

“Oooo… ‘A’ for effort.” You huffed, out of breath as you clambered to your feet and strolled over to pick up your Totsuka.

It was… deceptively quiet in the tunnel while you regained your bearings. Red, fleshy, pulsating walls told you that you were definitely somewhere inside the Qliphoth, though probably not in its main structure… maybe you were within one of its main roots? When the walls pulsed rather violently, you grimaced and backed away from the wall, trying not to remember Dante’s comments about demons and vore. “Urgh. Too late.” You groaned, going the slightest bit green as you journeyed deeper into the tunnels.

The further down into the tunnels you went, the less light there was, until you were forced to use a smidge of demonic energy to see in the dark. You’d seen Dante and Vergil use this ability mostly for intimidation purposes, but you found that it was useful for seeing in the dark. With a simple blink, gone were your human eyes, and in their place stood slit pupils, dark sclera, and ethereal glowing light grey irises.

When light was at its minimal, a wail reached your ears from deep within, and suddenly you were sprinting down the tunnel. The closer you came to the wailing, you realized with shock that it was a baby’s cry. What’s a baby doing down here? You wondered, turning as the tunnel drifted left before skidding to a halt at the scene before you.

“That’s not…” your words stopped, caught in your throat as something tight and unpleasant clawed in your chest.

They stood before you, a family. They weren’t much more than shades… shadowy images and illusions… falsehoods… but you knew what you saw. A mother comforting the crying baby boy in her arms while the father stood by his wife’s side, helping her quiet the little one with comforting shushes and whispered words.

“Shhh, shhh, everything’s going to be okay, Nero.” The woman carefully rocked the baby boy in her arms. “Vergil, do you mind humming to him? He always did love it when you sing to him.”

The man nodded and gingerly accepted the baby from his wife’s arms. “Of course, Y/N. You should get some rest, it’s my turn to look after our son tonight.”

The woman yawned and rested her head upon her husband’s arm, watching as he began to hum a familiar lullaby to his baby son. “No, I think I’ll stay right here, Vergil.”

You watched, eyes transfixed with longing and melancholy over the scene. How you wanted this for your family. How you wished that Vergil would have stayed all those years ago. How you wished that Nero was your biological son. How you wished and wished, but your wishes never came true.

The shades before you vanished into wispy shadowy smoke before reforming into two figures and a bed. The tears that had gathered at the corners of your eyes fell as you stared in misery at the scene before you. “No. I don’t want to see this.” You sobbed even when you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the two figures involved in a passionate embrace. Your hands rose to cover your ears, not wanting to listen as a shade of your husband made love with a woman that wasn’t you.

“V-vergil! Ah! Harder!”

“Stop.” You begged, finally closing your eyes, but you could still see and hear the shades.

“Y-you said you had a wife waiting for you at home.”

“Please. Stop!” You cried, shaking your head, not wanting to hear or see any of this.

“Tell me you love me, Vergil. If you don’t care about your wife.”

“… I love you.”

“STOP!” You wailed, throwing a volatile pulse of demonic energy at the shades, banishing the scene completely until you were the only one stood in the middle of a large room filled with rubble. Huddling into a ball of misery, you wept, your hair now a dark silvery white to match the rest of your family.

“Why must you torture me?” you asked the figure stood behind you, though you didn’t rise to confront them face to face, still drowning in your woes. When the figure didn’t answer, you let out a bitter laugh, sniffling, “Figures. You never answer. I don’t even know what I didn’t file for a divorce all those stupid years ago.”

Still crying, you rose to your feet and turned to meet the eyes of Nelo Angelo, though its armor was much different than you realized. Though its eyes glowed red from within its helmet, and its body was solid, you noticed that wisps of shadow and smoke would occasionally fall off it like a fog. This entire time, I was chasing a shade… Umbral Angelo. Probably a pawn of Urizen given life by the Qliphoth. Your grief seemed so intense that it felt like you were choking, but somehow you found it in you to be angry. “Of course Urizen would find it amusing to dance all over my emotions.” You snarled, drawing your blade to point at Umbral Angelo. “So, what! Are you a puppet as well!?” You demanded, taking a menacing step forward. “Are you a puppet to Urizen like Vergil was to Mundus!?”

Umbral Angelo seemed to flinch back, as if struck, but still it didn’t answer you, opting to hold its massive blade at the ready. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you charged forward, swinging the Totsuka in an overhead strike that Umbral Angelo easily parried and countered with a backhand, sending you flying backwards even when you blocked.

“Tsk.” You clicked your tongue in annoyance as you skid backwards upon sticking the landing, “Katana versus broadsword. Really should have taken Dante up on those spars.” You couldn’t get cocky here, you decided, widening your stance and sheathing the katana once more. “I’ll let you come to me, big guy.”

The shade knight raised his broadsword with both hands in a preparation for a lunging motion, the blade glowing and ominous purple before it blinked forwards. You barely had time to switch your footwork and unsheathe the Totsuka to parry the blow to the side before Umbral Angelo was upon you again. Being much smaller than the shade knight, you dodged the incoming elbow thrust by getting in close and under his arm, thrusting the Totsuka into a crack of the armor before pulling away and creating distance.

A growl escaped the shade knight as he too jumped away to create distance. For a moment, the two of you stood at a standstill, simply observing one another from across the room. “I don’t understand you.” The statement falls out of your mouth, eyes narrowing as you run a hand through your silvery hair. “You won’t attack unless I provoke you. You won’t speak. You just stand there!” When Umbral Angelo remained silent, you threw up your arms in exasperation. “Is it the grey eyes? The silver hair? It’s probably a little darker than those of Sparda’s bloodline, but- I’m getting carried away. Answer me!”

The shade remained silent, only changing its position from one ready to attack, to one of rest, stabbing its broadsword into the ground in front of its feet.

“Fine!” The Silver Rose is drawn and its trigger pulled in the blink of an eye, the single bullet hitting the wall just next to the knight’s head.

“…s…r…gi…” Broken sounds echoed from within the confines of the shade knight’s helmet as it shifted its position once more, raising its blade to swing. “…fea…m… w…i…”

Surprised, you could only jump to avoid the wave of energy sent at you from the swing. “Wait. What did you say?”

It didn’t reply, sprinting forward in a violent horizontal swing as you bent backwards to back hand-spring away. The assault of strikes was overwhelming as you were put on the defensive, parrying and dodging while trying to get a few hits in with Totsuka and Silver Rose. There were chinks in its armor, but very little injury to his person. Now that you were closer, however, you could finally hear what Umbral Angelo was muttering.

“…use your gift… defeat me with it…” The shade knight muttered, its voice an echo of something that was once familiar, but long since a memory. “…you must… for your own sake.” It pulled back just enough to throw another downward slash at you. “…please…”

The force of the strike as you block it causes the ground under you to give away. The knight is unrelenting as you struggle to lift the blade or even parry it to the side. You didn’t want to rely on your demonic power so much, but at this rate, you were bound to be defeated by a mere phantom.

A flash of light blankets the room in searing white as you call to your demonic powers. You can feel your body absorb both the Totsuka and Silver Rose as it changes. Before the bright light can disappear, you’d practically teleported to dodge the still descending broadsword.

You grunt in annoyance when you feel your grey hair cascade down your back, having grown longer than it was in your mortal form. Like Dante, your Devil Trigger causes you to take on a draconic appearance, tough silver, grey, and black scales adorning your body in a mimic of a knight’s armor. There’s a ridge around your neck and shoulders that resembles a high collar, protecting your neck from potential damage should the need arise. Your head and face are pulled into what looks like a snout, though your mouth and eyes seem to be stuck in an eternal grin of mischief. Behind you are a set of white leathery wings and a long tail. You have little practice with your wings in tight spaces, so they are currently folded into your spine, keeping them out of the way while you make use of your tail, probably one of the only weapons you have in this form besides your fists and feet. Though describing the appendage as a simple tail would be an understatement, as it is probably more like a stinger, its point, a sharp dagger that can shoot energy beams.

“If you want me to win so badly,” your voice is a hollow echo when you activate your Devil Trigger, “Then, come at me now.”

Umbral Angelo flies at you with another lunge, but this time you dodge and summon white energy copies of the Totsuka to lay into the knight while you throw in a few jabs and kicks, mixing the barrage of attacks up by occasionally backing away so your stinger has enough room to fire a beam of energy or two.

The assault is too much for the shade knight, and it is forced to create as much distance from you as possible. It looks like it can barely lift its sword from the damage you caused. Umbral Angelo drops his broadsword and falls to its knees, weakened and defeated as you approach.

“Now, let me ask again. Why did you show me those things?” You demand, releasing your Devil Trigger to stand as mortal once more.

“To show you the truth. To show you his demons. A part of him regretted. But a part of him did not. Before you face him again, you needed to know.” Umbral Angelo forced himself to reply, though his voice was weak. “There is… one more thing. He-”

Umbral Angelo did not get the chance to finish when a sword cleaved through his chest, killing the shade instantly.

You stood, wide-eyed, your face slightly splattered with dark blood as another figure bearing Nelo Angelo’s semblance stood before you. When it didn’t attack you, you wondered briefly why it had killed its own ally. And then, you heard a distorted demonic cackle behind you.

“A pity it wasn’t even useful to defeat his old whore.”

You had no idea what the hell you were staring at. A three headed woman fused with a giant chicken fetus. Wait… whore?

“WHORE!?” You screeched, immediately activating your Devil Trigger once more to rush the cackling abomination. “I’LL SHOW YOU A WHORE YOU RAGGEDY EXHIBITIONIST!”

“Oooh! I touched a nerve!” The abomination sneered before disappearing into a portal. “Deal with her.”

Just as you’re about to close in on the backend of the retreating abomination, you’re tackled so hard that you get sent through the floor and into open air.

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

Once again, Thank you for reading! :D

#shianhygge #shian imagines #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry imagines #DMC #DMC5 #Vergil #Vergil Sparda #dmc vergil #vergil x reader #vergil sparda x reader #x reader #x reader angst #v #v dmc #v dmc5 #dmc v #v x reader #dmc v x #nero #nero dmc #Nero Sparda #nelo angelo #shian's silver rose #angst

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E91 (Jan. 21, 2020)

Good evening, everyone! Sorry about missing last week; @eponymous-rose​ was out of town and I had some other commitments. Regardless, here we are! Brian is looking handsome and cold, as are Sam & Travis on the couch. Everyone is wearing coats. Is the heat broken?

That said, tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham & Sam Riegel.

Brian starts us off asking Sam if he’s remaking the Wire in Beverly Hills. Sam basically embodies that hello fellow kids meme tonight in a hand-knitted beanie from his wife, a bomber jacket, a yellow tee, and skinny jeans. They quickly photoshop in smoke trailing out of his mouth. We’re just a few minutes in and this is off the rails already.

Announcements: The next issue (#5) of Vox Machina comics comes out Wednesday, Feb. 19! It’s also available online at Dark Horse Digital and Comixology. And that’s it! Huh.

Episode 91: Stone to Clay

Brian tells us this is the first time ever to have Sam & Travis alone on Talks. I’m stunned and so are they. Sam says, “between me, Brian, Dani, and Travis right now, there’s four tens on this show right now.”

We’re already into questions less than ten minutes into the show. Truly this is a remarkable night.

63 in game days and 21 episodes passed between Caduceus’s first mention of Stone (episode 71) and Fjord connecting the dots. Travis blames the internet connection and his really bad ADHD night, as that was the night he and Laura remoted in from the hotel.

Brian tells us that when Ashley used to skype in, she could only see Matt & couldn’t see or really hear anyone else.

Travis says there was a huge delay for him between mouths moving and the audio coming through, and then that audio was pretty distorted. Laura could handle it okay, but Travis just heard a jumble and couldn’t parse it.

Sam took a CBD bath the other day and found it exactly as relaxing as a normal bath. Sam & Travis commiserate about taking baths only to have their knees pop out of the water. Tall people problems smh

Caleb & Nott completed the spell in less than a week, including dealing with the Angel of Irons & brokering peace treaties. Travis though the laughter was going to be Helas.

Travis says he definitely didn’t hear the name the first time (he remembered dust but not stone from the lava pits). “Look! Yes! No, I was not listening before! Thursday nights are my times to enjoy my friends and food! Marisha is an amazing note-taker; why would I ever take my own? This is how I got through college!”

Sam says he keeps a mission checklist in his head and has for ages. He has a page in his notebook labeled “To Do” that includes things like visiting Kiri or Shakaste, in case they have downtime and need ideas.

Travis asks if he continues writing in his (apparently) very small handwriting, and Sam says he has to leave room for Laura to draw all her dicks. They all marvel that she is actually a very good artist.

Travis honestly still thinks the Stone name is a huge coincidence, especially since Taliesin didn’t have access to Fjord’s last name when he created Caduceus’s last name and backstory. Sam challenges Travis that even if that were true, doesn’t he think Matt will find a way to tie it together?

Travis says Fjord doesn’t want anything to do with the last name and it’s not even his real name. He’s not convinced this isn’t a coincidence.

Travis did a lot of research into orphanage naming conventions when coming up with Stone. He does have a backstory as to how the orphanage manager picked Stone as his name.

Travis thinks Matt would have emphasized the Stone name more sooner if it had been a true connection and not coincidence.

Brian: “He does like to take credit for coincidences, doesn’t he?”

Nott didn’t think there was a catch in the ritual; Sam was more surprised they were allowed to achieve the milestone at all. He was shocked it happened so soon in the story and that the spell is relatively easy to cast.

He didn’t know it would fail, but there was a moment when he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go through with it. Travis agrees everyone was shocked when it didn’t work.

Fjord’s current stance on faith and destiny hasn’t changed since the last time he discussed it. Faith is a slow thing for Fjord and he really does think the name is a coincidence.

Sam as a player is excited to see what comes next for Nott; “if she had been transformed into Veth at that moment, I would have been excited to see what comes next. The fact that it’s still Nott makes me excited too. I’m excited to see more of Nott since she’s the best character in the M9.” He also confesses he was a bit relieved, in part because it’s delayed the inevitable. At some point she must decide if she is going to stay or go with the M9.

Cosplay of the Week: @kajicosplays​ on instagram of a lovely lady Percy. Brian: “Isn’t it fun when Taliesin’s characters live?”

Deep down, Nott knows she will do the transformation at some point, but at that last moment where she had to make a decision she had to check in with herself to make sure she was ready. Sam Riegel as a D&D player also knows that you have to trust your DM and make choices.

Brian misreads the word “ribbing.” Sam teaches Travis what rimming is. We all learn a lot about each other.

Sam thinks Fjord can realize when the time comes to set jokes aside. He thinks Fjord was very respectful. Travis has honestly forgotten that the conversation took place.

Travis has Dani answer from Fjord’s perspective. It’s actually pretty insightful, talking about how Fjord recognized someone hesitant to give up these newfound powers that have become intrinsically tied to self-worth.

Fjord has always been loyal, and Travis sees his protectiveness of the M9 as a logical extension of this.

Right now, he has found some agency & self-direction and is hopeful to share that sense with everyone else (he especially mentions Yasha).

Sam & Travis start quoting from Half-Baked. This is chaos.

Nott does want to stay with the M9, but she also wants to go home for sure, both of those things. The kiss with Caleb wasn’t necessarily a goodbye; it felt like the closing of a chapter. It felt like something to mark the end of the experience.

Now they’re quoting Beverly Hills Cop. Oh, boy.

“You look like you wrote Pitch Perfect.” When did this turn into a roast?

Fjord has no memories earlier than the orphanage (The Driftwood Asylum). There were a couple dozen kids there aside from him; Travis thinks some of them might have been named Stone. It also operated as a small child-labor workshop for carpentry & woodshop stuff. “It was a terrible place all around.” He has no images of parents or being dropped off.

Sam thought the Nott transformation would be more endgame, though he feels it makes sense that it’s not. “While Nott transforming into Veth was my original goal, what’s great about these long games is that your goals can change two or three times before the end. Now I can explore all these other things: does she want to go back and be a housewife? How does she rectify her obligations to her husband and child to the life that she’s made with the M9? It’s so exciting and interesting.”

Brian asks a hypothetical: if she could transform back but lose all Nott’s memories, would she do it? Sam: “Oh, that’s tough. I don’t know.”

Fanart of the Week: a lovely piece by @pen_draws with everyone in the hot tub.

Travis is very trepidatious about returning to the open ocean after rejecting Uk’otoa. He wants to make sure the third temple is sealed. It feels like it would be too easy for someone not to come and try to collect the job he left half-finished. He also wants to go back to Darktow.

Sam doesn’t know if Nott is still in love with Yeza, although she definitely still loves him. He’s playing with the idea of a high school sweetheart being exposed to the world and then going back home. But Yeza’s amazing, a great guy, perfect. “I guess we’ll find out when/if she turns back into Veth.” Sam feels guilty talking about him. “He’s a fictional character and I feel guilty that he might be watching the show.”

Neither Nott nor Fjord trust Essek. Travis: “He just went from being cold and aloof to being really warm. I know there’s been time and he’s lived an isolated life, but...time will show if he’s being genuine. All of our haunches were up. All of us were on level five alert.” He’s being so helpful that Travis doesn’t trust Mercer with him.

Fjord never ever considered becoming a paladin of the Traveler. “No. Fuck no!” The Wildmother reached out and directly intervened to save him. Travis gets super creepy bad vibes from the Traveler’s relationship with Jester (Sam agrees).

Nott feels more pressure when her own problems become the focus. It’s hard for her to open up and talk about her feelings. She’d rather pick up on other people’s problems. Sam also acknowledges it’s more pressure on him (and anyone) as a player when the whole table is looking at you.

And that’s that! Is it Thursday yet?

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long post for ts

[lord-tathamet]

Dinner Plans

A short story almost two years of age, that I once wrote for a university class. Found it again, dusted it off, polished it slightly, but let it retain that little bit of amateurish writing simply to marvel at how far I’ve come with my writing ever since. 

Enjoy. 

For the fifth time in the last two hours did the man with the moustache and sunglasses look up from his research and look at the face of the clock of the broken church. He scowled beneath the moustache, but forced himself to look at it regardless.

4:18 pm.

They were late, as per usual. He shook his head and focused back on his literature. He made the mental note to have a number of alarm clocks be send to each of them for next time. Flatteringly Photoshopped pictures of the Mexican coast reflected in his sunglasses while his eyes skimmed through the brochure's whimsical descriptions of the rich culture of its indigenous people and beautiful beaches.  He skipped through a couple of pages until he found what he was looking for. A decidedly too sharply fined and too pale fingernail stabbed into the page displaying the photograph of an ancient, grey pyramid.

The man sitting behind the shining aluminium table was tall, narrow and sharply dressed: a suit jacket with bloodstone cufflinks, black suit-pants, a clean white shirt only slightly wrinkled and  two buttons open. His legs ended in a pair of shiny, pointy shoes. His face was stern and angular, with pronounced cheekbones and a pointed chin. Bushy eyebrows sat above the pair of sunglasses that protected his eyes against the sun, and a long white moustache grew beneath the hooked nose which gave his appearance a certain roguish charm. A wavy mane of grey-white hair surrounded his face and hid the pointed tips of his ears, giving him certain qualities akin to an old lion. It was difficult to clearly guess his age, but anyone briefly passing by and glancing at him would take him for a very spry looking gentleman in his mid-fifties.

Leaning in on his read, the man with the white moustache made a few notes on a small block of paper. The pen he used was black, ornamented with silver filigree and absurdly expensive, as was the ink held within. Next to the note pad stood an untouched and by now cold cup of coffee, its content as pitch-black as a dark winter night and reflecting the bright afternoon sun above.  Disgusting in taste and disgustingly cheap in comparison, but he needed the table, and none of the waiters would bother him as long as he had at least one beverage in front of him, as maligned and untouched it was.

Cars rolled by exhuming grey fumes, the nearby fountain shot water into the air and people passed his table. Most of them in casual summer clothes, sundresses and cargo pants and shirts and some of them even with hats to gain some shade. For a moment, the man looked up from his notes and allowed himself a brief indulgence – the eyes behind the sunglasses darted from one healthy neck to another. A small, wolfish smile parted the pale lips and if there had been anyone to pay close attention, they would have gained a brief glance at his very pointed, very sharp and unusually long canines.

“Good afternoon, count.”

The man in the white moustache begrudgingly pulled his eyes away from his current mark – a lovely Turkish woman with streaming black hair that was climbing the stairs around the fountain just a shy dozen feet from his table, close enough for him to smell the sweet mixture of blood and perfume she exhumed – and he turned to the youth that had seated herself opposite of him, soundless and sudden as if she had appeared out of the thin air.

“And to you, countess. You are looking lively as always.”

She seemed young enough to be his granddaughter, though no one within their right mind would have thought to imagine a superficial familiarity between the two. A girl of fourteen years, with a healthy, rosy complexion and flowing, lush dark hair that curled at her shoulders, the sunshine twisting golden shimmers into its waves. Large doe-like eyes that projected innocence and hid a vicious intellect, a petite body that suggested fragility and cloaked the strength to bend iron bars as if they were straws. She was in white, of course she was, a pretty, knee-length dress and a white handbag in her lap and with her hands folded atop of it. The lid of her bag, the man with the moustache noted with a mild amusement, was riddled with numerous, colourful stickers and badges, and around her wrists hung several loops and bands of tiny gemstones like rainbow wreaths.

They were the only change about her since their last meeting.

“Thank you. My sincere apologies, there was an unfortunate delay with the train between Kassel and Hannover.” She shook her head. “More than five centuries since the invention of rail transport and still a simple thing like an open door may stall a train's journey for almost an entire fifteen minutes.”

She nodded at the travel brochure still open in front of him. “Are you already planning your next journey? I thought you would stay in Berlin a little while longer.”

“I am a traveller at heart, milady. Although my beloved home will always be in the heart of Europe, the other continents do possess their own charming allure,” he replied, setting the brochure and note block aside. “And besides, it has been a while since I have last visited the Americas. There must be much exciting game to be hunted there.”

“Always about excitement, is that the reason you wanted us all to meet here of all places?” The countess nudged her chin toward the broken church spire in the background, a disgusted sneer cracking her face. “And mirroring glass everywhere around us. One of these days, your thrill-seeking hunts might cost you your life.”

“How would the youth of your seeming generation say? No risk, no fun.” The count let his eyes wander around the square for a moment. “Where is Laura? The two of you were practically bound at the hip when we last met.”

The young-seeming woman stiffened in her seat. The snarl dissolved into a very neutral, very calm expression that seemed like it was carved from marble. “Laura is... no longer with us.”

A single eyebrow rose, but otherwise the count's face remained unmoved. “Hunters?

“No.” There was a subtle tremble of her lip, the count noted, before she continued: “She could no longer bear it, she told me, moments before she drove the knife through her own neck. She betrayed me, just like the others before her.”

“My condolences.”

She nodded, her face remaining neutral. “It has been over three decades since. I have moved on as best as I could.

“In fact,” she allowed herself a smile,” I happen to have a date just after we met up with our friends.”

“You still insist on fraternizing with your prey?” The count sneered. “Now that is a carelessness that will get you killed one day.”

“Because unlike you, I seek actual companionship?” Her eyes glinted like sharp icicles in the sun. “Because unlike you, I do not wish to to prolong myself in solitude and run afoul like some pack-less dog? Because I want to spend this blasted eternity with someone like myself?”

Blue flashed and briefly turned red. For a moment, the two stared at each other with an intensity not unlike of two big cats, every individual muscle tense and ready to pounce. Then as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

“I did not mean to insult you, milady. Forgive me. I only worry about others of our kind. We are already so very few remaining,” the count sighed.

“Do not kid yourself, count. You care for nobody but yourself,” the countess replied, but she too relaxed in her seat.

The next five minutes they spent in silence. The count returned to his brochure, only briefly looking up to take notes and to send another quick glance up at the clock tower. The young woman had produced a smartphone from her handbag and immersed herself in the screen, brief smiles lighting up her face in between her typing and the brief ping of sent messages.

“Empusa will be here in half an hour,” she said after little while and looked up from the screen. “She is picking up Lamia from the airport and helping her through customs right now.”

“What about Schreck?”

“The sun is still up, remember? He will meet us after dusk.”

“His mutation is as highly fascinating as it is impractical,” the count murmured. “Why didn't they update me about it?”

“We do possess a text chain, you know. I'm surprised you are not part of it, since you are always the one organizing our meetings.”

“I refuse to touch one of those damnable Apps ever since Lestat sent around pictures of his own rectum to everyone.”

“Suit yourself. Why the Americas?”

The count tapped his finger on the table. “The Mexica people of pre-Columbian America possessed fascinating religious rites related to blood sacrifice to honour their gods...I wonder if there might be others of our kind still in their old territory.”

The countess fiddled with her smartphone. “Sometimes, I admit, I envy your ability to travel without restraint. I tried everything, yet I still must return to my family's tomb ever so often.”

“Have you considered moving your tomb in its entirety, stone by stone? There are still many old woods and mountain valleys unmolested by human hand. I am sure the hags you usually travel with would be most grateful for the exercise.”

“I have tried, once, when Laura was still with me.” A twinge of sorrow crept across her face. “I wanted to go far, far away from home and take her with me. But then, my body began to wither, my senses to decay the longer I prolonged returning to my tomb for a night. Laura, too, could not go long without a place to return to. Horse-carriages can only get you so far. And when we tried to move a single stone, what little strength I had left in that moment was about to leave me.”

The count hummed. Then his own phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, swiped across the screen, read the message in silence. A wolfish grin split his face.  

“Then you'll be happy to know that I plan on putting an end to these laws that seem to bind us.”

“What to you mean?” The countess leaned forward, an eyebrow arched.

“I planned on surprising all of you when Schreck, Lamia and the others would be gathered with us, but I might just as well reveal it all now,” the count smiled and leaned back, hands tapered together. There was a red gleam to his eyes, behind the sunglasses. “In my studies of the Americas, I came across a new initiate to our little circle – one that shares many of my own tastes and wishes to help others of his kin. Among such, is breaking the accursed bindings placed upon us.”

He extended a pointing finger. “He is currently sitting on the other end of the Breitscheidplatz. The tall man, olive skinned, with the gold rings in his ears.”

The countess followed his direction, narrowed her blue eyes to a glint. “What is his name?”

“The old Mayan people called him Camazotz. And he might very well be one of the first of our kind to walk this earth.”

On the other end of the square, the tall, olive-skinned man with golden rings in both his ears turned his head and nodded at them. His eyes gleamed in a blood-red, and for just a moment, both of the undead nobles could catch a glimpse of his shadow flickering across the wall behind him.

For just a split-second, they saw the shadow of a bat the size of a small house, stretching its wings and enveloping the street within its grasp.

#dracula #vampire #vampires #supernatural #carmilla #nosferatu #fanfiction #? #definitely fanfiction #horror #modern day #my writing #fiction

[littlegrrl7]

“The Tiger and the Wren”

Ikemen Sengoku Shingen/OC 18+

Excerpt from Chapter 6 “Pain and Warmth”

Fluff

___

“Rough mission?” Sasuke eyed the bruise on Ren’s cheekbone, another was visible through her kimono collar, her gait was stiff as she walked down the hall. It had been a few weeks since they’d seen each other.

“I’ve had better.” She gave him a half-grin and a wink. “How goes your training under Kenshin?”

“I’m managing to avoid him more regularly, it helps that these cold months keep people indoors.” He lifted the hem of his top. “Look, for the first time in my scientific lifestyle, I have abs!”

Ren laughed, giving him a half hug as they walked down the hall, he noticed her bandaged hand and squinted at her.

“I’m fine. Honestly, my mark had two extremely well-trained shinobi in his employ. I took my lumps, but gave as good as I got.” She gave him a quick reassuring kiss on the cheek, then turned the corner.

 Speaking of abs…

Her face pressed into the heated flesh of Shingen’s bare chest, the edge of his kimono caressed her cheek, unconsciously she inhaled deeply. Ren hadn’t realized how much she had missed the sweet musk of his scent. Coming to her senses, she stumbled backward, Shingen caught her in his long arms holding her against him until she had regained her balance. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks. His hands caressed warmly down her back.

“My Goddess, if you are favoring mere mortals with kisses from your divine lips today, I’ll have the next one.” Holy cats! His voice was like buttered caramel, she gazed upward, his mirth filled grey eyes smoldered, her knees went weak.

 Dammit, girl pull yourself together!

“My Lord, I apologize.” She started to bow, her eyes shifting away from his burning gaze to the ground. Her heart threatened to beat its way out of her chest.

“Unnecessary, “ Shingen cupped her chin, lifting her gaze back to his. A thumb traced the edge of her bruise with concern, then continued to teasingly brush over her lower lip. “You are, as always, a pleasure to bump into Ren.” The tiger glinted in his eyes at the double entendre. He took her hand, playfully kissing the tips of her fingers. Her face burned red. With a smile, he nodded in greeting to Sasuke and continued on down the hall.

Ren gasped.

“Woah,” Sasuke’s lip twitched in a grin “I knew there was some unresolved sexual tension between you two, but I feel like I need a cold shower after that exchange. Is he always so-“

“Every damn time.”

“And you haven’t-“

“No.” Ren swallowed audibly. Sasuke peered at her flushed face then glanced down the hall.

“Ren…I’m straight, and I’d hit that, what are you waiting for? He’s obviously into you.”

She sighed, shaking herself off. “He’s my boss.”

“I don’t think that’s an issue for him.” Ren smacked her friend’s shoulder.

“Uggg, I need a soak. My body is one big bruise. I’ll catch up to you later, ok?”

Sasuke gave her a lip twitch smile and sauntered off down the hall.

It was rare Ren used the onsen as she was one of the few females at the castle with leave to make use of it. It was cold, but still, the light dusting of snow melted far before the edge of the water. Ren had tied a small tag to a scarf at the entrance, announcing the hot spring was in use by her then dropped her towel near the edge, sinking her naked bruised body into the steaming medicinal waters.

It had been a long time since she had taken a beating like that, and it was a sharp reminder to keep her skills honed. She had been sent to Oshu to ferret out some information, on her way out, she encountered two extremely well-trained Shinobi who appeared to be brothers. She was happy she escaped with her skin intact if varying shades of purple. At least she gave as good as she got, the dark-haired one had stayed at range, but the flirty blonde he called “Gen” was definitely hurting as much as she was. She turned to face the edge of the pool, laying her bruised cheek against the cool stone. Everything just ached, it was probably for the best she didn’t have a mirror. At least the wound on her hand was shallow, it was the only cut she took. She let her mind drift in the rising steam of the onsen, her eyes sliding closed.

Familiar steps came close, her eyes snapped back open.

“Hello Ren, mind if I join you? Sasuke said you were going for a soak and would like some company.”

 Shingen…damn, you Sasuke. You are going to wish Kenshin had killed you.

She flitted her eyes to the side, her breasts were pressed to the wall, her back faced him.

“I left a scarf indicating I was using the onsen.”

“I saw,” He chuckled. “Was it not an invitation?”

She turned a little more to look at him. Shingen stood on the other side of the natural pool, wearing only a small towel around his narrow hips. Her eyes traveled upward slowly, every line of his body was perfectly sculpted from his muscled abdomen to his smooth broad chest to shoulders so vast she felt like she’d swoon. Ren had never seen a more magnificent specimen of a male. If he were from her time, he would be a model and not one that needed the aid of photoshop. She let her eyes wander appreciatively back downward. He smiled, dropping the towel to slide into the steaming water.

 Yes, …everything was perfect. Whelp, there’s more fuel for that fantasy…

Ren averted her eyes, her face glowing red. “Just stay to your side.”

Him

He saw the bruises on her face from the last mission and winced internally. He knew the twins she ran up against. That she survived, was a testament to her skill. When Sasuke mentioned to him she was going to soak, Shingen picked up a container of salve to give her to help with the bruising. Seeing her in the onsen, he was sorry he sent her. The white flesh of her back was mottled in all shades of pain like she had either taken a beating or fallen hard. He realized by the way she covered herself, she was unused to casual nudity.

“I’m sorry I sent you.” His voice was sincere, he saw her eyes flash in surprise.

“Was the information I retrieved not what you desired?”

“It wasn’t worth the damage to your pearlescent skin, my angel. Are you ok? I brought you some salve to help with the pain and bruising.”

“Thank you, my Lord. That is very thoughtful of you.” To his surprise, she turned to face him, sinking down into the water. Her arms crossed over her bare chest. An angry blackened bruise striped across her shoulder to her collarbone on the left side, it looks like someone struck her there then it bounced off catching her cheek.

“Just Shingen, please.” He requested softly, “Would you tell me what happened?”

“I got cocky.” A self-deprecating laugh slipped from her lips. “I haven’t run up against anyone else here to match my skills, the other shinobi I’ve run into were sloppy or lacking in discipline, these two weren’t.”

Shingen listened quietly, watching the emotions play freely across her face. She was different today, unguarded. Possibly from fatigue. He found it very human of her, alluring, different than the self-assured cold demeanor she usually projected.

“I had just left the castle with the intel when the dark-haired shinobi started flinging kunai at me, he stayed at range the entire time. I never had a chance to bring out my bow because the blonde immediately closed at melee. We were evenly matched and disarmed each other as soon as he closed. The fight turned into unarmed combat with his brother flinging missiles at me. Thank goodness I was faster, he only managed a graze on my hand.” She gave a small shrug, wincing imperceivably at the roll of her shoulders. He found himself wanting to reach out to her to comfort her but knew she wouldn’t allow it in her current state of undress.

“The dark-haired man called him “Gen”. We beat on each other for some time, I gave as good as I got. I managed to knock him out, and I ran for it.” She paused and then added, “I would prefer not to be sent there again without backup.”

“Understood, again, I apologize for putting you in that position. I did not know they would both be present.”

Ren raised an eyebrow. “But you were aware at least one would be present? A warning would have been nice.”

“My goddess, I knew you could handle it, I have faith in you.”

She splashed him, “Ass.”

Shingen blinked at the unexpected sass then gave her a wolfish grin.

“Next time, warn me.” She smiled, it was radiant, and he felt his heart thump loud against his ribs.

“I promise.” He moved forward to sit by her and saw her eyes widen in panic. Shingen raised his hands.

“Just, keep to your side, mixed bathing isn’t really done by non-couples where I’m from.”

“We could change that.” Her eyes lit warily at his grin. “My angel, I would love to couple with you. "

“Pfffft!” Her laughter made him smile. “You and your silver tongue, do you ever stop flirting?”

“If you desired me to, I would stop. But I don’t think you do.”

“Guilty.” She rolled her eyes, then turned back around, giving him a view of her back to where the water lapped at her narrow waist. Another bruise started there and wrapped down under the water. His lips briefly tightened at the amount of pain she must be in.

“Ren, why don’t we go back to your room and I’ll help you with the salve? I use it when I’m injured. It will actually help more than the heat of the springs.”

She nodded, “would you close your eyes?”

“Hmmm?” He tilted his head.

“So, I can get out, would you please close your eyes?” The tips of her ears were scarlet, it had nothing to do with the heat of the springs. He smiled at how adorable she was.

“My eyes are closed.” He heard her leave the water, imagined it running off her flesh, pooling around her. Soft fabric rustled as she wrapped herself in the full towel.

“I’ll be in my room, thank you.”

Shingen waited until he could no longer hear her footsteps, then opening his eyes, he climbed out of the springs. He picked up the jar of salve and went to retrieve his kimono. He could have just given it to her, but the damage was so extreme she would never be able to reach all of it on her own.

 Tell yourself that old man.

This was not just an excuse to touch her, he wanted to help her.

 mmmhmmmm

He slid on his kimono…maybe he should just stop by and give her the salve, he could send a maid by to help her apply it. Yes, that is what he should do. He started walking toward her room with decisive strides.

He tapped on the door.

“Ren, it’s Shingen.”

“Come in.”

His breath hitched as he entered the room, and all thoughts of simply handing her the salve disappeared like smoke. She kneeled on her futon, her bare back to him. Her sleeping kimono was belted around her waist, but she had slid both arms out and merely held the cloth up to her chest. He had just seen her fully naked in the onsen, and yet this was far more intimate. He took a deep breath steeling himself. He was here to help her.

“I appreciate you helping me. I won’t lie, I’m very sore. It’s been a long time since I’ve been hurt this badly.” Her soft voice was hesitantly vulnerable.

Shingen kneeled behind her scooping some of the salve from the jar, he warmed it in his hands before spreading it gently onto her purpled flesh. Her skin was softer than he had imagined. He leaned in, rubbing the salve into the wound on her shoulder then moving lower down her back. His hands were gentle, reverent on her. The fact she was even letting him touch her so intimately surprised him.

“I saw one lower, near your waist?”

“Hmmm, yes, he hit me in the hip with a log.” She fidgeted a bit then opened the front of her kimono, dropping the fabric to display her purpled hip. He moved his hands over it, and she sighed in pleasure.

A smile tugged at his lips. He leaned in closer, letting his natural warmth roll over her. His hands continued to rub salve into her abused skin, but at this point, it was more of an excuse to touch her.

He slid both hands down her back, Ren let out a rumbling purr that ended in a moan. Then covered her mouth in embarrassment, her skin flushing to red.

“It appears I have discovered a tigress.” Shingen let his lips graze the nape of her neck, he couldn’t resist. The spice scent of her flesh was enticing. She turned her head toward him, snowy lashes fluttering to her cheeks.

“It just felt really good.” She admitted. The blush on her cheeks was beyond charming. He slid an arm around her cupping her chin.

“Let me see that cheek.” He caressed some salve over the bruise on her face. Her violet eyes caught his, he paused. There was desire in the depths of her eyes. She leaned back into his chest. He brought both arms around her in a warm embrace. His lips nuzzled into the back of her neck. He nipped her gently, suckling on tender flesh. Her breath came in short hot pants.

“Shingen, we shouldn’t.”

He grinned against her neck.

“You don’t want me to hold you?” he asked softly.

“I do, it feels nice.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?” his lips trailed against softly on her neck, nibbling at the uninjured flesh.

“I’m too hurt to make this enjoyable.”

He chuckled against her cheek. “I am enjoying you.”

She let out a frustrated little snort, he grinned wider. “You are adorable.” Shingen ruffled her short hair. “How could I not enjoy being close to you?”

She rolled her eyes. “Alright, I thank you for your help, I can get the ones in the front.”

“Or you could allow me to?”

Her

His hands, she was melting into the warmth of them. Everywhere he touched her, it tingled. Ren told herself it was just the medicinal salve, but her heart beating so fast in her chest told a different story. Her body still hurt, but now a different kind of ache was overlaying that. It was not a small effort to lean away from him, sliding her arms back into the sleeves of her kimono. She turned slightly with a wince and brushed her lips softly against his cheek.

“I really appreciate it thank you, I should get some rest.” She tried not to look him in the eye, Ren knew she’d lose her resolve if she did. It was already slipping. Every breath was full of his scent, his warmth, her body was screaming for him. She was holding onto her moral ground by her fingernails and slipping fast.

“It will only take a moment.” His eyes caught hers, concern and tenderness swirled in the soft grey. She was lost. Wordlessly she moved the cloth to the side, exposing the length of her left leg, the bruising on her thigh wrapping around down to her ankle. Shingen warmed the salve again in his hands, then slid them down over her muscled leg. She bit her lip holding back a moan, her eyes sliding closed. She rested her forehead to his shoulder. He made her feel too good to care anymore, the pain was replaced with his warmth. Her entire world focused down to the heat of his hands stroking over her calf, massaging the salve into her skin. Her breath came out in a long shaky sigh. Then to her surprise, he slid the kimono back over her leg, covering her. Shingen’s lips pressed warmly to her forehead.

“Get some rest, little bird. I’ll leave this with you.” He laid the jar next to her futon and stood. Her body hummed in protest at the loss of his warmth.

She let herself slide down into the bed, he leaned forward wrapping her warmly in the covers.

“Sweet dreams, my goddess.”

Continued on A03- long fic

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21712111/chapters/51789976

#takeda shingen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku shingen #ao3 story #fluff