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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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The Perfect Fit | Bucky Barnes x reader (part 2)

(part 1)

summary: after getting fitted by you, bucky’s going to try on the custom-made suits he’s bought. unless he makes his move now, he may not get to see you again, and he can’t let that happen.

word count: 6.5k

warnings: smut!!, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), a little d/s energy, mirror kink, stomach bulge kink, slight pain kink?, creampie kink, pussy spanking, light bondage, bucky being jealous

Bucky had a bone to pick with Tony, which was usually true but this wasn’t work-related for once. It wasn’t hard to find him in the same place he’d seen him last— eating his lunch in the kitchen, with Sam nearby chowing down on lo mein with a spring roll.

“Hey lefty, what’s cracking?” Tony greeted, mouth full but talking loudly anyways.

"I went down to that tailor you recommended—" Bucky began, but Tony was quick to interrupt.

"You went there? Dude, it's a really nice place, you can just call and she'll come to you instead, way more convenient."

"So now you say 'she'?"

Realization dawned on Tony’s expression. "Ahh, I get it. You're not used to a female tailor. Adds a little spice to getting fitted, huh?" he grinned, elbowing Bucky playfully.

Bucky’s throat felt a little dry when he heard that. "Don't tell me that's why you use her…"

"Hey now, I'm not a creep, I use her cause she's the best, and those house calls are great for discretion— you know, being a celebrity and all. The eye candy part is just gravy."

"Gravy candy sounds disgusting," Sam chimed in, missing the point entirely.

"Yeah, well, she mentioned some stuff that sure made you sound like a creep."

"Okay, well, you can't blame me for getting caught staring when I'm surrounded by fucking mirrors. Makes it hard to be stealthy."

"You could try not staring,” Bucky suggested flatly.

"Is that what you did?"

Tony smirked when Bucky failed to reply immediately. "Okay, so it's easier said than done,” Bucky admitted with a frown, “but still, I hope these house calls were strictly professional."

“What’s it to you, man? I think somebody’s jealous,” Tony purred.

“What? No, it’s not that,” Bucky denied.

“You love her,” Tony sing-songed, completely ignoring Bucky. “You looooooove her!”

"You are so immature," Bucky rolled his eyes, even though his heart was racing and he was pretty sure he was blushing.

"No, it's good for you! She's a catch, you're all brooding and stuff— maybe she can melt the Winter Soldier's frozen heart, hm?"

Sam laughed heartily. "Stark, you read too many comic books."

"You're saying you don't wanna see Icy Hot here shoot his shot with my tailor?" Tony asked, turning his attention towards Sam.

Sam pondered that, much to Bucky's dismay. "Depends. How hot is she?"

"Mega," Tony smirked confidently. "Legs for miles, and she wears these skirts that make her ass look—"

"I think I've heard enough," Bucky groaned. "I'm leaving. And don't ask when I'm going to see her again," he instructed, interrupting Tony just as he'd opened his mouth to speak, "because I won’t tell you.”

As Bucky left, he could hear Tony calling out into the hall: “But I’d be such a great wingman!”

Truth be told, Bucky had put off mastering the use of his smartphone. It wasn’t just that new technology made him feel old, but that he knew nobody would be calling or messaging him anyways; if the phone didn’t work, he would spare himself the embarrassment of waiting up for nothing.

But once he knew you were going to call? Suddenly, he was motivated to figure the sucker out.

A few hours later and now all he had to do was stare at it to make sure he wouldn’t miss you. Luckily, you didn’t make him wait too long. He recognized the number and decided to let it ring a few times before picking up, so it would seem like he had other things to do besides talk to you.

“Hello?” Bucky asked when he answered, so it would seem like he had other people calling him besides you.

You introduced yourself so formally that he was a little afraid that all that fun energy between you two would be gone. Thankfully, once he asked what you were calling about, you were back to being cheery and casual again.

“I was just calling to schedule when I could come by with your new suits!” you explained, sounding chipper.

His fingertips were a little tingly just from hearing you talk, nervousness making him antsy (in a weirdly good way). “I know you said it’s a one-person operation,” he responded smarmily, “but I figured you would outsource delivery.”

You scoffed, though it sounded more amused than irritated. “It’s not just delivery, I have to check the fit and make sure everything’s exactly to your liking.”

“Oh, well, I’m free all day tomorrow— and I think you already know my address.” Was it too forward? Too obvious? And why did Bucky spend half the time when he was talking to you second-guessing himself?

“Yes, Stark Tower is a relatively common destination for me. If he doesn’t mind us using it, Tony has a dressing room with plenty of mirrors so you can get a good look. But, I’d be happy to just go up to your quarters if that’s easier.”

He was not at all ready for you to see his room. No way he could clean it enough in the next twelve hours; and even then, lots of the team had made fun of how empty and plain it was, so he knew it would just make you think he was boring.

“I’m sure Tony won’t mind you using his dressing room, but he might mind me using it,” Bucky chuckled.

“Well, if he makes a fuss I’ll be sure to set him straight,” you decided confidently. Somehow, imagining you cursing out Tony was almost hotter than imagining you doing anything else. “Be sure to bring down your dress shoes so you get the full look and everything.”

“Uhhh…” he trailed off as he scratched the back of his head, trying to remember if he owned anything other than combat boots. “Not sure I still have those, to be honest.”

"Okay, you'll need shoes too,” you noted aloud, your voice a little distant; he figured you were writing things down, which was why you sounded distracted. “What size are you?"

"Thirteen."

"I'll bring a selection tomorrow,” you announced firmly. “And socks, of course. And some watches, maybe? And pocket squares."

"Is that it?" he asked sarcastically.

“Oh right, I’m bringing the ties you picked out, too. I’ll throw in some alternates in case your original choices don’t match the way you were hoping.”

“You really are full-service,” he chuckled.

“I get that a lot,” you replied, a hint of coyness to your tone.

There it was again; that jealousy. He hated it because he knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t stop it either. As much as his mind was completely aware that you were an independent, modern woman capable of handling herself, his heart was equally determined to protect you, and spoil you, and do whatever was necessary to make sure you were safe.

Worse, his gut was less innocent. Mine, it demanded, all mine. Nobody else’s.

He pushed it down and just tried to get through the rest of the call without saying something he’d regret. You confirmed the date and time with him, and he tried not to be too aggressive when he said he was looking forward to it.

He hung up his phone and sighed, staring off into space. Now all that was left to do was wait, and be overwhelmed with anxiety. Thankfully, he was good at the second thing.

"So, what do you think?"

I think you look so damn good from every angle. I think I might spend all my money on suits just to be sure I can see you again. I think you need somebody to love you the way you deserve. I think you’d look like an angel waking up in my bed.

You waved your hand in front of his face for a moment, calling his attention back to reality. “Helloooo?”

Drawn out of his trance, Bucky finally looked in the menagerie of mirrors surrounding him and admired his reflection, amazed by the perfect fit of his first suit. The difference in quality between this and something off the rack was beyond apparent. Most of all, your talent was undeniable. "I think it's beautiful."

You smiled proudly. "Of course it is, but do you like how you look in it?"

"Honestly? I feel a bit… out of place. I'm obviously not classy enough for a suit like this."

"Oh, nonsense," you dismissed.

He frowned, convinced this was all flattery. "No, seriously, this is… maybe I should just wear tactical gear to every event."

"Well, you'd still look good, but you're not always a soldier. Sometimes you're only a man. And every man should own a fine suit."

It was much too profound of a thing to say while you casually straightened his jacket, only to pop out from behind his reflection to smile at him in the mirror.

“Let’s get the next one on you,” you decided, helping him lose the jacket but having him move into a private dressing room to switch trousers and shirts. “I put a turtleneck in there instead of just a regular button-up,” you explained through the door as he changed, “in case you wanted to see it that way.”

Once he’d put it on, he stepped back out and you were looking at him so proudly— well, you were looking at your handiwork with pride, really, but he could pretend it was for him and hope actually impress you that much one day.

“I went with a shawl lapel on this one, as opposed to the last one which was notched,” you explained as you traced the line with your finger. “Spoiler: the next one has a peak lapel. But enough about that one: what do you think of this one?”

“This looks like something my friend Sam would wear,” Bucky decided as he looked at himself in the cranberry suit and black turtleneck. The shoes you’d had him try on with this were intricate as well, with subtle stitching in the leather and a shine so immaculate he could almost see a reflection in them.

“Well, is your friend Sam stylish?” you asked.

“He would certainly say so,” he smirked.

“I’m inclined to agree, because you—” you gave him a thorough glance up and down, so thorough in fact that he felt a bit exposed under your gaze, “—look marvelous.”

“Not pretentious?”

“No, no, it works on you,” you assured, “you’ve got the looks for it.”

“And what looks are those?”

“Um… good? Good looks?”

He definitely remembered a time when that seemed like the obvious answer, because he had relied on being good-looking for a lot of things in life, but that felt very far away now. Maybe it was just that people who didn’t know what he’d done could still think he was good looking, but everyone else saw the evil within beginning to leak out the way that he did.

But you knew what he’d done, didn’t you? You had to. You knew Tony, you were here at the Tower… unless you were intentionally not up-to-date on current events, you must have heard of the Winter Soldier.

“Don’t act so surprised,” you huffed, “as if it’s a big secret or something. You’re obviously very attractive.”

Bucky cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, thanks.” He wanted to return the compliment, but thought it might be inappropriate or rude somehow. You broke the silence quickly as you held up two pocket squares in front of him.

“Which of these do you prefer?” you prompted. He selected the solid gold one, making you smile. “I knew you’d pick that one.”

“How?”

“I dunno, just fits you,” you shrugged as you folded it and gently placed it in his pocket. Even through so many layers, your touch on his chest made his heart flutter. Your fingers brushing over his as you slipped a watch onto his wrist was enough to cause palpitations.

He looked better in this ensemble than he expected. This version of himself looked much more likely to be invited to parties than any other version. If only he actually wanted to go to parties.

You put him in the pinstripe suit last, after putting a few pins in the cranberry suit to indicate minor changes you would make later, and stepped back to ponder your work.

"Hm, unbutton those top two buttons for me?" you requested with a raised eyebrow.

I will if you do, he thought to himself, but silently unbuttoned his own shirt anyway.

"I mean, it definitely works like this, but I wanna see you in a tie. And I've got juuuuust the one," you smiled. Soon you were approaching him with a red paisley tie, and helping him button up his shirt and tying the tie for him— you explained something about how it was a unique knot he likely couldn't do himself, but he was too lost in having you so close to notice. It would be so easy to just reach up and grab your waist, pull you into a kiss, finally tell you how bad he wants you.

Well, it would be physically easy, but it would be very scary. Just imagining it had his heart racing.

“I heard from Tony this morning,” you informed him suddenly, slipping the tie around his neck and popping his collar up for him.

“Really? Is he in need of a wardrobe update?”

“Yes, but he hasn’t realized that yet so that wasn’t what he called about.”

He laughed a little at the jab, though it also made him a little worried what secret opinions you held about his own style (or lack thereof).

“We talked about you, actually,” you added.

“O-oh,” Bucky stammered, “uh, he’s not exactly my biggest fan. So whatever he said probably isn’t true.”

“He said that you have a crush on me,” you replied nonchalantly, not even looking up from your work on his tie.

Bucky gulped, and he knew you saw the bob of his Adam’s apple because you were staring right at his neck.

“Like I said, Tony isn’t a very reliable source,” Bucky replied, but his voice cracked in the middle and he cringed internally.

“I’ll write it off as another one of Tony’s off-color jokes then,” you dismissed, perfecting the knot of his tie and stepping back to observe him. He always felt nervous when you looked at him like that, like he couldn’t hide anything from you.

“What… what did you say, when he told you that?” Bucky asked nervously.

“I asked him what he was smoking and if I could have some,” you laughed. “I thought it was totally impossible— and don’t worry, I didn’t tell him that you got hard when I did your inseam.”

Bucky’s throat became dry at the same moment that his palms got clammy.

“I— um, I was just—”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you dismissed quickly, still talking about this all so casually which only made him even more confused, “you’re not the first, it happens.”

“I’m not the first?!”

“Yeah, if anything you were one of the few who didn’t say something creepy about it, which is always appreciated. It’s just a bodily reaction, you can’t control it.”

“Did Tony ever say something creepy?” Bucky pressed, his hands involuntarily tightening into fists— another bodily reaction he couldn’t control.

“You know, Tony said you were really worried that he had been inappropriate with me, or even that he and I had a fling or something,” you added as you stepped back, giving him a quizzical look, “and now it’s sort of sounding like he was right.”

“No, no, it’s not that, I just—”

“Was he right about anything else?” you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

“I was being nosy, I’m sorry,” he sighed, “it’s just that… and I know it’s none of my business, but the idea of him and you… it isn’t a pleasant mental image.”

You laughed a little, in a way that made him feel kind of small. “Why not? You know how he is. Definitely has a wandering eye… and occasionally a wandering hand.”

Bucky winced. “I swear, if he ever put his hands on you, I’ll go find him right now and beat him senseless.”

“What if I wanted him to?”

He nearly saw red, but he knew he had no right to be angry. You were a grown adult and he had no ownership over you… he just sort of wished that he did.

“So it’s true then? You and him…?”

“No, Bucky,” you laughed, “it’s not. Nothing’s ever happened between us. I generally don’t get involved with clients like that.”

“Generally? Is there an exception?”

You chewed your lip, seemingly a little thrown off by his question. “Uh, I mean, no— I’ve never been involved with a client, no, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Why would you say ‘generally’ then?”

“Uh, I guess I just… I wouldn’t want to rule anything out, that’s all. Never say never.”

And for a moment he almost wondered if you were flirting with him. Certainly not, with him having come across as both a jealous hot-head and a bumbling dweeb who pops a boner faster than a randy teenager, but just for a second the way you looked at him was… questionable.

“I mean, who knows,” you continued, “what if, hypothetically, some gorgeous guy walked into my store one night— a sensitive guy, who made me laugh and put up with me rambling about ties for the better part of an hour— and I was supposed to dress him up when all I wanted to do was undress him?”

Your finger started to trail down his chest lightly, tickling his skin through the dress shirt.

“I wouldn’t want to think he was off-limits just because he’s a customer… right?” you asked quietly, looking up at him and biting your lip.

He was afraid to make the wrong move, but he really really hoped this was flirting.

“I don’t think anyone would object to being dressed or undressed by you,” Bucky responded, hoping he could stay neutral until he was sure what you were talking about.

You chewed your lip, looking away as if you were thinking about something.

"I know I certainly haven't. And wouldn't," he added, feeling the need to say something.

You nodded, placing his tie inside his jacket and seeming happy with your work.

“You know, the fit looks great," you announced, "but I’m a little worried that one of the measurements was wrong. Mind if I do your inseam again?”

His throat was dry all of a sudden, but he responded quickly anyways. "Uh, go ahead…"

You looked up at him as you started to sink to your knees, very slowly. That little move looked real good in the mirror behind you. “Last time I did this, there was something getting in the way, made it difficult to know if I was doing it right…”

"M-my apologies," he whispered.

"Oh no, I'm not complaining," you purred as you slowly began to run your fingers up the side of his leg, keeping searing eye contact until his knees felt a little weak.

When your hand reached the top of his inner thigh, the back of it brushed against his balls and he shivered. Delicately, and so excruciatingly slowly, your hand moved higher and gently rubbed his erection through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

It must have been all the anticipation that made it so intense, made shivers run up his spine every time your hand moved over his length, made his toes curl inside the ridiculously fancy shoes you’d put him in.

“I’m gonna take it out now, okay? I promise I won’t measure you here,” you winked.

"You can if you want," he shrugged, deciding now was the time for feigned confidence if there ever was one. “I mean, if you’re worried about fit…”

You bit your lip, and he was proud to see the effect his words had on you. “I’ll be honest, I am a little worried it won’t fit…” You were quick with his belt, but slow with his button and fly, apparently having more fun teasing him. “Fuck, Bucky,” you groaned softly as you took his cock out.

“Don’t look so excited, doll, you’ll give me an ego,” he purred.

“Can’t help it,” you sighed, “looks delicious.”

You licked a long wet stripe up from the bottom all the way to the tip, making a show of licking up the bead of pre-cum before taking his head into your mouth, and Bucky blinked a few times to be sure that this was actually happening.

"Been wanting to do that since I first saw you," you admitted, grinning as you stroked him right beside your face, which only helped to illustrate how big he was compared to you.

"Dirty girl," he praised with a smirk.

Flirting, he wasn’t so good at. Conversation in any form typically stressed him out. But this? This he was still pretty good at. And he’d never wanted it so bad before.

When you took him in your mouth again, you didn’t stop until you started to gag; he couldn’t stop himself from moaning through his teeth when you did it.

"Look up at me, princess," he instructed softly, grinning when you obeyed quickly. "Now look over there at that mirror. Look how good you look on your knees for me, choking on my cock."

You moaned around him when you made eye contact with your own reflection, and it felt so fucking good he almost lost it right then and there. He held your jaw, almost too tightly, and guided you as your head bobbed on his length. Your mouth was so warm he thought he would burn up— and it only got warmer the deeper he managed to get. God, he was so ready to pump his load right into your throat, but he wanted to do so much more to you first.

In one quick motion, he pushed you off of his cock, pulled you up to face him, and flipped you around, holding you to his chest with the metal arm and letting the flesh one start rubbing your thigh. This way, both of you were looking at the mirror in front of you, and he loved watching you gasp and moan as you felt and watched his fingers move higher and higher.

“I think it’s time to find out if you really are ‘full-service’,” he purred right against your ear, making searing eye contact with you in the reflection. “You’ve seen so much of me, but I haven’t seen nearly enough of you yet. Been daydreaming about what you could be hiding under these tight little skirts.”

As he pulled up the plaid-patterned fabric, he saw that you were wearing white, lacy panties and he groaned deeply.

“What are you wearing these for?” he teased, rubbing along the edge but never getting where you wanted— and he knew you were getting desperate, because your hips were starting to buck up into his hand. “Were you expecting something would happen today, sweetheart?”

“I— I was hopeful,” you stammered; instantly, he slapped you right on your barely-covered pussy, just hard enough to make you yelp and squirm in his grasp.

“You’re so shameless,” he chuckled darkly, “and I love it. I just hope this isn’t your usual routine— acting all innocent and batting your eyes so your clients will fuck you.”

“No, I swear, it’s just you, Bucky,” you whimpered, “there’s nobody else, please…”

“Please what? Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to… to touch me more,” you whispered, as if it was a secret and not patently obvious.

He slipped two fingers underneath the thin fabric, finding your clit right away (not difficult at all with how swollen it was) and rubbing it in gentle circles.

“Oh god,” you sighed, “Bucky…”

WIth his hand on your hips, it wasn’t hard at all to push you back into him so he could rub his aching cock against you.

"What material is this skirt made of?"

"It's a silk blend," you answered breathlessly, "about 30% cotton."

"It's soft," he purred before yanking your skirt up higher and pressing his cock against your ass instead, "but not as soft as you."

Next to go was your blouse, which he tore open to the sound of buttons flying every direction and bouncing off of the mirrors and floors.

"Bucky!" you yelped, but he could see your nipples harden through the lacy white bra. If there was any doubt that you had intended to seduce him today, the matching undergarments dispelled it.

After teasing your nipples between his fingers for a moment, he reached back down between your legs— and when his fingers slipped through your folds and moved down to your opening, he actually moaned just from how wet you are.

"Fucking hell," he growled, "you are drenched, princess. You liked sucking me off that much?"

"Not just that," you clarified, "you look really good in my suits."

He gave you a toothy smile in the mirror, using it to nibble on your ear a bit. "You deserve most of the credit for that," he purred.

"No, no, I don't," you whined, "you'd look sexy in a paper bag, honestly… you turn me on so much, Bucky."

“Did you… think about me? After I left your shop the other night?” he asked playfully, already foreseeing your answer from the way your thighs clenched and your lips let out the subtlest gasp.

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“You’re smart enough to know I want you to be more specific than that,” he chuckled.

“I thought about you that night… after I got into bed…” you elaborated slowly, clearly distracted by the way he was moving his fingers: delicately, but with obvious intentionality. “I thought about what it would’ve been like if you had grabbed me and kissed me, shoved me against the wall, fucked me right there on my desk… in front of the glass wall, where anyone could’ve walked by and seen you claim me…”

His cock was throbbing, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the image itself or from the knowledge that you’d been fantasizing about it. “Were you touching yourself?” he growled.

“Yes,” you sighed, your thighs starting to visibly shake, your knees bending towards each other in the mirror.

“Show me how,” he demanded. “Show me exactly how you were playing with your needy little pussy while you thought about me.”

Your hand found its place on top of his, your fingers starting to move his to the specific place, guiding his movements to be faster and rougher.

“Oh, I see,” he grinned, “you don’t like to tease yourself, do you? You like to jump right into it, come as many times as you can and rub yourself raw in the process?”

You nodded feverishly, panting and whining and writhing in his grasp.

“You’re so desperate, honey… such a shameless cockwhore for me.”

“For you,” you repeated through your trance, “Bucky, ‘m close… keep touching me, please…”

He kept his thumb on your clit but gently slid one finger inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation (if for different reasons).

“So tight,” he hissed, already pulling it back out, “fuck, and just for one finger…”

“More, please,” you begged mindlessly.

“More? Sure you can take it?”

You bit down on your lip as you nodded, and he pushed a second finger in beside his first. He felt you struggling with it, both in your walls and in the way you winced a little, but you softly begged him to keep going so of course he couldn’t stop. You adjusted quickly, your wetness starting to run down his hand.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered, “now, please, can’t wait anymore.”

“Yes you can,” he encouraged, “and you will, cause I need to taste you first.”

Pulling his fingers out of you, he flipped you around again, finally kissing you the way he’d been dreaming of since he first saw you. It was intense but not too dominating— in spite of everything. It was a romantic sort of kiss, maybe too romantic for the situation (that being his cock out and hard and pressed against you, and his fingers covered in your arousal) but perfect nonetheless.

“That’s not what I thought you meant when you said you wanted to taste me,” you giggled when he pulled away.

“No, I meant it the other way,” he smiled, “I just wanted to do that first.”

He picked you up suddenly, making you gasp a bit, but knelt down to lay you on the floor pretty soon after. You looked up at him with wide eyes as he lifted your leg and kissed his way up. He could smell your need, and he worried it would drive him wild before he reached his destination.

Pulling your soaked panties aside, he realized he could probably come just from looking at you. “Such a gorgeous pussy,” he growled his praise, leaning down to plant a few more teasing kisses over the inside of your thighs. Finally, he started with one long lick, just like you had with him, but you weren’t so patient to tolerate it. Nearly instantly your fingers pulled his hair, clearly trying to guide him to tease you less, but he couldn’t be swayed to go easy on you.

“I hope you’re not forgetting who’s in charge,” he smiled hungrily.

“And what if I am?” you returned, clearly looking to get on his nerves so he’d get rough with you. He was happy to oblige.

Bucky sat up and loosened his tie, slipping it off of his neck with a smirk. "Now, this is 100% Venetian silk, so it should feel nice around your wrists," he cooed. You offered your hands willingly, and he got a chance to show off a few complex knots of his own. "Now be a good girl and keep those hands above your head, alright?"

You did as he asked, freeing him to hold your legs open as he devoured you, alternating between teasing your bud with the tip of his tongue, and fucking you with it.

"You taste like heaven, doll," he growled when he came up quickly, "and the way you moan when my tongue's inside you? I swear I could die happy right now."

"I wish you wouldn't though," you whimpered.

He laughed a bit before he got back to it, letting his tongue focus on your clit while he filled you with his fingers again. Your walls clenched down on him occasionally, and when it became more frequent just as your moans became louder, he knew you were close.

"Stop, stop," you sighed suddenly, pushing him away.

"Are you alright?" he asked, nervous he'd done something wrong.

"No I'm fine, I just… I don't want to come yet. I want you inside me first."

"And what about what I want, hm? What if I want to watch you come just from my tongue?" he offered instead, though he was definitely still very persuadable in this regard.

"I know you wanna fuck me, Bucky, don't make me wait any longer,” you moaned, your back arching up a little from the floor.

Not needing to be told twice, he flipped you onto your elbows and knees, making sure you could support yourself with bound wrists before letting you go. His hands running over your exposed ass and thighs made you shiver, and he smiled down at you. At this point, he was probably more desperate than you were, but he was doing a much better job of hiding it, even taking the time to reach up and undo a few of the buttons of his shirt, because wow suits are warm and not meant for his level of physical activity.

Still, he figured he had waited long enough— he needed to fuck you while he still had at least a shred of patience left. He was going to need it if he was going to give you time to adjust to him.

Holding his cock and rubbing it through your folds, he chuckled when you whined and dropped your head down in a pout. He loved watching your expression shift into a gasp as he pushed in.

He went slow, but he didn't stop either. He wanted to test you just a little. He wanted to stretch you open.

"Fuck," you cried, "god, you're so… you feel so…"

"Look in the mirror," he instructed coldly, although the coldness was just a front for the way he was holding himself back as your body swallowed him so beautifully.

You moaned again, higher-pitched and weak, just as he finally got all the way in. He waited until he felt your body relax a bit before he asked if it was okay for him to move yet. You answered with a quick nod, a breathy "please," and he didn't need any more encouragement.

It was probably too fast to start off with, but god, he'd been waiting so long to fuck you like this.

"Baby," he whispered, "you're so perfect."

He held you steady and thrusted deep, so deep that it made you gasp each time. You looked incredible, and you felt incredible, but the way you sounded was just… divine. He could never have imagined the beautiful way you would sound when he was bringing you pleasure like this. Having heard it, he wanted to make you sound like this as often as possible from now on. Technically he couldn’t even be sure he’d get another chance to, but surely sounds this perfect meant you had to be having a good time, right? Ideally a good enough time to call him again?

He was snapped back to focus when he saw your eyes flutter shut with pleasure.

"Don't look away from that mirror, honey," he growled, "don't close your eyes. Look how pretty you look like this."

He could tell you loved it from the way your channel fluttered and flexed.

"You like watching yourself get fucked, princess?"

"Yes," you sobbed as he grabbed your hips harder, hoping to leave a bruise, "it feels so good, Bucky, please don't stop!"

"I won't stop, pretty girl. Not until you cream on my cock," he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm close," you whined, "Bucky, I'm gonna come— oh god right there!"

And he was sure it couldn’t be fake from the way your body tightened and released so many times, the way you quivered and your breathing seemed to stop for a moment. Even though he could barely take it, he kept fucking you through it until you were shaking so violently that he worried about your health.

“You feel so goddamn good when you come, princess,” he moaned softly. “Tryin’ to milk my cock for all it’s worth, aren’t you?”

You laughed a little, sounding exhausted, but as he kept fucking you he could feel how sensitive you had become. When he reached down to push your skirt back up to your waist after it had started to fall down a bit, he felt his own movements in your gut and it took so much not to lose his cool in that moment. Instead, he pulled your upper body into his so that you could see in the mirror the way your lower stomach was bulging a bit each time he pushed in all the way.

"F-fuck, Bucky," you whimpered.

"Anybody ever been that deep inside you before?"

"No, not even close," you moaned.

"Am I hurting you?" he asked gently, kissing up and down your neck slowly to match his lazy, teasing thrusts.

"A little," you admitted, "but it feels good. Don't stop."

He wasn’t so brutal with his thrusts, still deep but with a patient, measured pace. It staved off his orgasm a bit longer, and it made you moan all slow and throaty which was not better or worse than the needy, high-pitched moans, but enjoyably different. You didn’t sound as desperate anymore (probably because you’d already come), instead seeming relaxed and calm— if still arching your back and biting your lip nonetheless.

"I wanna come inside you," he whispered right against your ear; he could feel the way you shivered as a result.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Is that what you want? Wanna be full of my come?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, please Bucky I need it so bad!"

"Fuck, gonna fill you up so good, doll," he promised gruffly. "Want me to make you mine, beautiful?"

He knew it was a risky thing to say, but his risks had paid off so far, and he wasn't in his most cautious mood.

"Already yours, Bucky," you sighed, "I'm yours, please come in me…"

It hit him suddenly when you said that, and harder than he expected. He hadn't come like that in… he hadn't come like that ever. He preferred not to think about the sudden, wavering moan he let out in that moment because he wondered if it sounded unsexy, but thankfully his mind was distracted by the overwhelming sensation of his softening, sensitive cock still within you.

He managed to maneuver you in the way he needed as he pulled out, leaning you back into him and holding your legs open to the mirror in front of you.

"Look in the mirror, sweetheart,” he instructed, his whisper a little labored as he was still catching his breath, “watch my come leak outta your pussy."

You seemed to be in awe of it, despite it being the obvious outcome of what had just happened. To be fair, he was in awe of it in a sense, too; a thick, slow stream of sticky white come dripping down from your swollen hole and onto the floor… it was mesmerizing.

Your body was limp in his arms as he finally allowed you to rest, your eyes falling shut as you melted into his embrace. He took a moment to untie your wrists, tossing the garment aside with an exhausted sigh. “Bucky…” you mumbled sleepily, apparently just to say his name.

“Was that… sort of what you were hoping for today?” he asked softly, kissing your temple.

“And more,” you giggled. “Oh my god, I… I don’t even know how to describe that… you’re so… fuck, I don’t know, my brain is totally jelly right now.”

“In a good way?”

“In the best way.”

He smiled, admiring your vacant-yet-pleased expression and feeling satisfied with his work. You turned over to lay your head on his chest, and he gladly draped his arms around you in response. Holding you like this felt so purely right, in a way so few things did to him. Funny enough, even just having fucked you on the floor and already holding you afterwards right now, he felt nervous again that he would say something wrong. You were a modern woman, after all, and maybe this was this ‘hook-up culture’ he kept hearing about.

“Was that true what you said, doll?” he asked gently, feeling you stir a little and slide a leg up to rest over his. “Did you mean it when you said that you were mine? Or was it just, you know, the heat of the moment…?”

You smiled a little, looking kind of embarrassed. “Um, yeah, I meant that… I’m yours, if you want me to be.”

He didn’t feel as guilty for feeling so possessive over you now. Clearly it was appreciated, in the right context. And he was now at least 75% sure that this wasn’t a hook-up. “Well, I’m yours, too,” he replied with a soft laugh, “whether you want me or not.”

“I want you,” you confirmed.

You laid in silence together for some unknowable amount of time, but it was a purely unawkward silence. A peaceful silence, and one filled with possibilities, but not uncomfortable. Maybe it was uncomfortable in the sense that the carpet, while still being very plushy and expensive, was still the floor and not as forgiving as a bed… but it was completely worth it.

Part of him feared to ruin the moment by speaking, but much more of him feared that you would slip out of his grasp if he didn’t say something. "This may be the wrong time to ask this— or maybe just the wrong order to do this stuff in— but I wanted to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner sometime."

You laughed, but cuddled deeper into his chest. "Um, yeah, that would be nice."

"I just hope I'll find something nice to wear," he grinned.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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bewareof12metersfrogs · 3 years

Text

Warning: long rant. Probably messed up grammar. Not LXC-friendly.

So Pinterest gave me this:

And I was like

Ah yes, Lan Xichen.

I mean, I love that guy, but oh gosh that man is BLIND. Like, man's so blind Xue Yang could use him to slaughter people.

(I'm so sorry for that joke)

I really loved him when I first read the book, esp pre-Nightless City, but then I read it for the second (and third) time and that love turned into "uhh, I guess I kinda like him?"

I mean, in Sunshot Campaign arc, NMJ just got freaking tortured. He just got beaten, made to watch his men die, and his former deputy "betrayed" him -- and then LXC was just like, "oh da-ge CALM down, this is all part of OUR plan, A-Yao's our spy lol put Baxia away don't shout at him smh"

Why didn't LXC say to NMJ that the whole thing had been orchestrated? Okay, I get it, maybe he couldn't risk JGY getting caught, but couldn't he just tell NMJ, "hey, this is the plan. You're gonna get caught at Yangquan by WRH and our spy will take care of the rest of it" ? I'm pretty sure NMJ was angrier about his men getting slaughtered than himself getting beaten. NMJ is kinda like WWX; they were both idiots, but they cared about their people. Pretty sure he cared more about his men than himself. If he knew about the "plan", he'd most likely bring the disciples who were ready to die.

THEN LXC just went to NMJ like, "Hey let's be sworn brothers!". Xichen, dude, his wounds aren't even healed. I mean, it's a bit insensitive right?? I think it is. The whole sworn-brotherhood-right-after-shunshot-campaign thing still bothers me. To me, it seems like no one cared about NMJ. I mean, he was the leader of SC, people used his skills, his men, his everything, and then he was just, like, casted aside?? Pretty sure man's got PTSD. Also, qi deviation. Oh gosh I forgot about qi deviation.

Anyway, yeah, LXC was blind throughout the novel. I won't talk about the scene where Wangxian tried to tell him that A-Yao = bad, but I will talk about the scene where NHS decided to "use" his er-ge to kill his san-ge. Was it intentional? Perhaps. Was NHS lying? Maybe. Was it bad? Absolutely. Was it expected? Of course.

Let's put ourselves in NHS' shoes for a second. Your big bro, who is also the one who raised you and the only family you have left, died. People are quacking "oh it's the Nie curse, and isn't it such a tragedy?" BUT NO! One day you be minding your own business and then BAM you found out that da-ge'd been murdered and mutilated AND betrayed. So you started scheming for like a decade. Everything was going great, as great as a 10 years revenge plan could ever be. You just gotta wait for a few more hours, you just gotta listen to your nemesis' retelling his sad background story, you just gotta endure the pain of seeing your dead big bro wrecking havoc, and you'd have your revenge.

Then of course your er-ge, your big bro's best friend, gotta help your big bro's killer. He just gotta treat his wounds, huh? Pretty sure NHS was unstable. He was desperate and maybe even full of wrath. I understand that, at least, the same way I understand that maybe LXC tried to treat JGY's wounds because he still saw him as his brother -- he didn't want to lose another brother. But how about NHS? He was watching the man whom he thought was his brother treating the man who betrayed and murdered his actual brother. NHS was being a dick, yeah, but it was expected.

Think about this for a second. NMJ's corpse was still right there (and gosh, NHS had to sew his big bro's corpse by himself). NHS was RIGHT there, and LXC had the audacity to tend to JGY's wounds after the man himself admitted to his crimes. I think it's understandable if NHS felt at least insulted.

Also, he was perhaps sick of people not thinking that his big brother was as important as other people, that he was also a human being instead of just a war machine or even a mere tool that can be casted aside whenever they want to. Why did his brother have to die because of other people's greed and selfish decisions? Why did he have to lose the only family he had left forever and why did he have to just sit back and accept it?

Most importantly, LXC had been too blind for more than a decade too long.

Also, the bit about "You're Wangji's only mistake":

Bruh.

If WWX is LWJ's only mistake, then (trusting) LXC is NMJ's only mistake. I mean, sure, WWX is as dumb and oblivious as a rock, but can you really blame him?? HE WAS TRYING TO KEEP HIMSELF, HIS FAMILY, AND THE WEN REMNANTS ALIVE, DUDE'S GOT NO TIME TO THINK ABOUT FKING ROMANCE.

Sorry, I got carried away.

Anyway, are we just gonna ignore the fact that LWJ had been acting like he hated WWX since, like, the first time they met?? I mean, I really love LWJ, but his only mistake is his communication skills (or lack thereof).

But LWJ never gave up on WWX. He learned to express himself way better. Man's got dedication and he's not afraid to learn. I really love that about him.

Also, I understand that LXC was angry because LWJ took beatings to protect WWX, but I don't think he had the right to blame WWX for that. Yes, I know WWX did plenty of things wrong; he was extremely reckless and untrusting, but he never asked LWJ to protect him. LWJ did everything voluntarily. Ffs Xichen WWX didn't even know that LWJ did that. You know why? CAUSE HE WAS FKING DYING THAT'S WHY.

TLDR: LWJ was a grown ass man.

Okay. So, do I hate LXC? No. But do I find him flawed? Yes. But that's why I like MXTX's characters, including WRH, JGY, and LXC (the only exception are perhaps JGS and MXY's fam, and I think we all know why). They all have flaws. For me, LXC is too naive and blind, JGY is too power-hungry and selfish, and NMJ is too stubborn and unyielding. NHS? Well, he's a lot of things. He's manipulative, unsympathetic, and IMO he's got a problem with obsession too. He and JGY are alike, in my opinion. The main difference is their goals: JGY seeks power, NHS seeks revenge.

Everyone has flaws. LWJ and WWX have flaws too; they're EXTREMELY flawed. Heck, even our lord and saviour Shijie also has flaws, as much as it hurts me to type that.

Then why do I get so worked up about LXC's flaws? Honestly I don't really know. Maybe it's because I'm tired of (almost) the entirety of fandom treating him like a god, maybe because I'm tired of people who treat NHS like the devil himself, or maybe because I'm disappointed in him. I mean, JGY's our main villain, but I still love him so much. Heck, I love him even more than I love LXC. Bruh, nowadays I even like WRH more. At least that guy is downright evil and he looks cool while doing whatever evil things WRH does (I'm talking about the novel and donghua mmkay).

Anyway, this is the end of my rant. I apologise if I'm offending you, this is just something that's been bothering me since the first time I re-read MDZS. This whole thing is like a plot bunny but instead of a "plot", the bunny is shaped like a "rant". This is a rant bunny. I need to get this outta my head. I've edited this thing like four times already because I keep finding errors and stuffs. I also added like two new paragraphs.

I'm sad now.

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magistralucis · 3 years

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I plan to read Desiderata but I don't know a thing about Rammstein. What should I know before diving in?

That depends very heavily on what about Rammstein would interest you.

I’ll be honest, anon, Desiderata is not the best story to start with if you’re completely new to R+. The story assumes a familiarity with the band’s history, as well as 1980s East German politics, and depicts both with terms and viewpoints familiar at the time. It’s not very accessible if you want to read a story about Rammstein, I’m afraid, it is very much a period piece.

That said, I can talk a little about what made me write Desiderata; if you’re interested in any of those topics, you’re probably good to go. I will also add some pointers as to how to begin a journey into Rammstein in general. This will be a very long post beneath the cut.

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

1) I’m interested in life during the GDR. I’m especially interested in how ordinary East Germans lived, down to what they ate, the kinds of people they’d meet, where they could travel to for the holidays. What people take for everyday occurrences are anything but outside of their homes. Most of Desiderata takes place in the pre- and early-Rammstein era (1985-1995), when the band members didn’t know they were going to get so big, nor what would happen after the reunification of Germany. I wanted to depict their era realistically. Desiderata is a written painting of that time.

2) I wanted to write on the anti-authoritarian character. To distill a long and complex history down, Rammstein has their origins in Ostpunk, and many of its band members spent their early life resisting the government in one way or another. They didn’t all do this in the same way, nor always with the conscious desire to stick it to the government. Sometimes they paid for it anyway. In Richard’s case, with terrible consequences, as his arrest and detainment by the Stasi finally made him flee the country. Desiderata is written in Richard’s POV and includes a sequence on what might have occurred during this time, as well as an analysis of his general psyche on the years leading up to that arrest. Desiderata’s account relies heavily on actual interviews Richard has done, as well as published Rammstein material, so if you’re interested in a character study of this sort you might like it.

3) I did not want to depict the above through the patronizing lens commonly found in Western media. It’s easy to fall into the trap of binary opposites when you’re writing about stuff like this: Richard was oppressed by the GDR so he must hate everything about the GDR, and/or furthermore, the GDR must have been evil. It’s the other way around if you’re approaching this from an anti-capitalist lens: if the East Germans had known the ‘freedom’ which lay beyond the wall was actually mid-stage capitalism, and if they’d known how badly that shit would break down in a couple of decades, they wouldn’t have wanted it.

Now I do not know what the objectively correct political position is here. But when you’re writing a character study of Richard, it shouldn’t be either of those. It’s definitely not how Rammstein looks at their past, judging by the interviews they’ve given and the books they’ve published; not even Richard has such a black-and-white approach to the life he led. It’s easy to forget that when you’re writing a fic, or even an article which tries to lean on the ‘facts’; one’s subconscious biases inform how they process facts, and I want to do better than that. I’ve fallen into that morality trap before because I didn’t know any better, and as a result I wrote some really bad stories, and I am ashamed of that. Rammstein have led a rich and complicated life with ups and downs. Many of them sincerely loved the GDR, the ones who didn’t still saw plenty of self-admitted good in it. If you would like to bask in my efforts at honesty, as fragmented as it is (for in the end, I am not from the GDR), Desiderata is the best I’ve done to this date.

4) Some good old Tillchard. Yes, I admit it, Desiderata is also a pairing exercise. ‘Tillchard’ is the shorthand for the pairing between Till (vocal) and Richard (lead guitarist); they are longtime friends in real life, and they share a trust between them seldom paralleled by anyone else in the band, imo. They’ve lived together for a time, they raised their daughters together, they began their foray into music in general while being aware of each other. They have duets together for God’s sake. I’ve been digging Tillchard for ten years so I need to stop before this becomes a longer essay than it should be, but long story short, if this becomes the first pairing you’re interested in I’d recommend adding Desiderata to the fanfic pile.

Ultimately, all the above points would still work out for the best if you knew more about Rammstein. Now for the practical recommendations. See if you like their music first: currently they have seven albums out, the most recent of which is Rammstein (2019). I don’t know how hard you like your music, but in order of most hardness to least my rank goes:

Liebe ist für alle da / Reise, Reise

Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Mutter

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

My personal ranking is:

Mutter

Liebe ist für alle da / Rammstein (2019)

Sehnsucht

Reise, Reise

Herzeleid

Rosenrot

Their best tracks usually have music videos attached to them. Check them out too. R+ take serious care with their music video narratives, they’re often their own little story in themselves. Their live performances are worth watching, even in video. If you can read German, I would also recommend checking out Rammstein literature, of which there are plenty. Till has three volumes of poetry out (Messer, In Stillen Nachten, 100 Gedichte); Flake has two autobiographies (Der Tastenficker and Heute hat die Welt Geburtstag, the latter of which is available in English); Mix Mir Einen Drink is the biography of Feeling B, which many members of Rammstein played in before Rammstein, and is an invaluable source for GDR life.

Out of everything I’ve listed, as of Feb 2021, Flake’s autobiography is hands-down the best place to begin your Rammstein journey. There will be a more extensive book about Rammstein by Olaf Heine soon, but it won’t be released until later this year.

There is no end goal to how much you should be interested in Rammstein, or what about the band you ought to like. At any point in this journey, try out a fic or two, see what you like. The fandom has written about basically every music video, every notable event that happened to the band (some may include sources!), and just about every combination of pairings possible among the six. You are in very well-covered territory, I promise :D

Feel free to ask more questions if need be. There is so much you can write about this band, I’ve definitely not covered everything. If at any point in this process you read Desiderata, and you end up enjoying it, that’s all I could ask for.

#Anonymous #tillchard #long post under cut #rammstein fanfiction #desiderata

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unworthychosenone · 3 years

Note

((I know we don't rp, but I've run into this kind of trouble before so here's somethings I've done. Try making a promo, even if it isn't fancy, make one so that your followers can reblog, it really does help get the word out. Another thing is send memes, even if you are non mutual, go ahead and send memes (if they say you can in their rules that is) also don't be afraid of asking questions about other people's muses like "what's their favorite food", or "do they have a favorite color" people love writing headcanons about their muses. Another thing you can do is send memes to mutuals. Just go down the list and send random stuff. - Hope this helps.

Well I do have a promo, I just don’t reblog it very often because I never really get much of a draw to any of my FF blogs. I’ve had plenty of people reblog them in the past and no one seems interested.

I will admit I need to try more with sending things out to people. I just get worried that they won’t want to actually interact and I hate the idea of upsetting people. I’ve left whole fandoms because of issues like that in the past so I tend to only go for people who actively follow me and I think I can work with. Otherwise I just get too nervous. It’s something I really have to work on.

Thank you!

#princeless #lightwithinthenightsky

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tieflingbi · 3 years

Text

growing up people always were like "oh once you're an adult you'll be glad to have a sister" and now that i'm 30 and my sister thinks i'm a useless freak it's like.... yeah i'm really fucking glad

my nephew will have memories of so many trips and even holidays he went on with OUR (as in, my sister's and mine) aunt or any of his grandparents or even my sister's fucking friends and i'm just. i'm so scared he'll begin thinking that i, his actual aunt, never actually cared enough to do so when the reality is that his parents, while always having been difficult, have been on a whole new level since they found out i'm in a non-heteronormative relationship to the point where it feels like they don't want me to spend time with my nephew unless it's "supervised" by at least one other family member.

when i talked to my mom about it and told her that i have a feeling it's because they're scared i'll turn him into a nasty homo she dismissed me, as if she hadn't been the one to tell me what my sister's fiance's reaction was upon learning about my love life. how it's just "not normal" and "seen as wrong in his culture" (which is hilarious because it's not even true, he's just a racist, homophobic, hypocritical bigot whose own mom looked at me at some point and said i don't know where i went wrong with him)

to think i ever used to think this man was alright lmao

and like i also feel so fucking stupid for thinking the relationship between me and my sister had actually improved and i feel stupid for any occassion i ever defended her in front of any of our other family members

legit i did my best to be a good sister, always helped out, always did this and that but it was and will never be enough, i realize that now, because all my sister saw in me was someone to call when it was convenient for her

she literally admitted that to me during an argument we had a while ago lmao

"of course i only call you when i need something"

of fucking course, thanks for confirming what i should have always known because unless it's my mom or my aunt, that's just how everyone in my family functions lmao

fuck i even WORRIED that my sister would start to think i only cared to visit because of my nephew, and started calling her when i knew he wasn't home (like, when i happened to talk to our mom and she told me he went out with his dad that's why she's not looking after him, stuff like that, i'm not a creep who learned her sisters's life schedule by heart or smth)

like i hope my nephew never has to find out that he p much saved my life just by existing, but i'm so fucking afraid that there will come a moment where he will stop loving and start resenting me, be it because of his parents bigotry rubbing off on him or because he will start to think that i don't give a shit about him which could never be further from the truth

he's such a sweet, smart, creative boy and i love him so much it physically hurts to think about

i just don't know what to do but the thing is there isn't anything i can do when he's not my kid, and in his parents eyes i'm 100% disposable

i don't know

i'm sorry for the ramblings, it just hurts!!!! it just fucking hurts!!!!!!!!! and i'm not having a good day about it!!!!!!!

also honey, because i'm certain you're going to read this, i love you so much!!! <3 you are my light in this dark dump and none of this is your fault. i hope you know that because i've told you plenty of times before when the topic came up but you know, i just wanted to say it again because i'm sure you'll find this post. the only one i blame for this mess is my sister and her fiance (and maybe my mom a little bit for being so passive when she's usually so vocal about everything despite the fact that she knows how much it bothers me, i've cried to her over it often enough at this point)

#family tw #i don't really want to talk about it to anyone because it won't change a thing but i just wanted to get this out and yell into the void #will delete later #if i don't forget

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marshmallowprotection · 4 years

Note

how would seven react if he had to find this other hacker, someone who's a legend and feared by everyone, even the government, only to find that they're a heavily introverted 13 year old with social anxiety who never leaves their apartment/basement/bunker? like, they get everything delivered outside their door and just... don't really interact with people? like.... how would he react?

Seven

He’s known to be one the best of the best.

It’s a title that comes after a lot of hard work and non-stop grinding to become better than anyone else in the room. It took him a few years to get to where he is and there’s hardly anyone that stands a league ahead of him. That is, until recent months, a new hacker came out of thin air and started to dominate web-spaces like it was candy.

Seven cannot believe it. This hacker is as good as him, or damn near better then he is. Whoever they are, they’re fast, concise, and they can rig a virus-like nobody else.

They tend to be using their power for the sake of pranks, or for others. Most of the time there are pages overrun by cat photos or petty memes that make the rest of the world laugh. They’ll ruin a website in minutes, for say a particularly popular company by revealing shady practices that were hidden in emails or out of plain sight.

They seem to have the power to call out anyone who isn’t being true to their word. It starts to get dangerous as the months go by and they get even more brazen. The government is on careful watch, and even Seven’s agency has to keep an eye out for this hacker because whoever they are, they have no alignment to anyone but themselves.

Seven doesn’t have anything against them, per se. He saw them singlehandedly help a group of foster kids by revealing the person overseeing them as a con. This hacker is always helping kids that don’t have anyone or those that don’t have a voice to defend themselves. It’s sweet in a sense.

They aren’t causing harm.

But, something that is so righteously good scares those in power in a bad way because they know someone has power on them that they shouldn’t have, and since he’s one of the recognized members in his agency, he’s the one sent to track them down and either take them down or get them to join the agency.

Seven has no choice but to obey those orders. Vanderwood won’t be long behind if he hesitates to get the job down. He really doesn’t want a taser on his ass. So, he makes a point of trying to locate where this hacker is staying in the world, and he’s surprised to find that they weren’t all that far from him.

It took a lot of grinding behind firewalls and VPNs, and other countless layers to get an address. There was a small window of time when they had their back turned, and that’s how Seven was able to find it. He set out not long after he found it because if they noticed Seven worming around their things, they would likely run.

Seven went straight to the address but he scoped it out from afar for a few days, nobody went in, and nobody came out. Things were often brought to the house but that was it. They would get pulled inside in the dead of night under the cover of the darkness so he couldn’t make out the figure of the hacker or whoever was staying with them.

Strange?

Well, not really.

Hackers are a strange bunch of people that really have a lot of quirks that nobody else has.

It takes some work, but he finds an opening to head inside the hacker's house once he’s certain that he’s learned their routine, he’s armed just in case but this is supposed to be a civil mission first and foremost, so it’s tucked out of sight.

He crawls in through a side window without making any noise, wandering around the apartment and trying to locate them, or learn more about them, much to his surprise, it’s a quiet apartment. It’s got all the telltale signs that someone lives there but there’s dust covering some of the furniture here and there.

There’s not a lot of life to be seen but there are photos of a family here. He can’t be certain when it was taken but there’s a young kid, and two parents in it.

“Must be one of the parents,” he mutters to himself.

Imagine his surprise when he enters the last room at the end of the hall and finds a teenager, no, literally a preteen, eyes deadset on their monitor and fingers clacking away against the keys with fever. He can’t help but gasp and that gives him away to the kid.

The kid jumps to their feet and stares at him with fearful eyes. It seems that they didn’t consider putting up cameras or anything to watch over their apartment, and hadn’t realized that someone had managed to find their way inside.

They seem to know that this isn’t just a home invasion by someone who wanted to take stuff.

“Am I in trouble? Who sent you? Where are you from?!” they asked, voice shaking alongside their knees, “I’d like to know if you’re just a burglar or somebody from one of the agencies that I pissed off? I knew it, I knew that I shouldn’t have gone into those databases--”

“Wow, wow, relax. I’m not going to do anything,” he quickly raises his hands above his head and steps back so that there’s plenty of space between the both of them. “I’m just here to find out who this notorious hacker is... are you... are you the hacker that’s been making so much trouble?”

They slowly, but surely, nod their head.

Well, that makes things a hell of a lot different and fast. He can’t believe that he’s been fighting a kid of all people and this kid is someone that lives all on their own. Their parents died a ways back and they’ve been fending for themselves here in this apartment. They don’t know how to handle the outside world so great anymore.

So, they started living their lives online. That allowed him to keep tinkering and playing around with programs and books until they were basically on par with him. They were bored and lonely. They had nothing better to do until one day they stumbled on a crack in a website, allowing them to backdoor into their information.

Once they saw something, they knew that they had to help others or else nobody else would.

It snowballed from that point.

Seven... felt really conflicted. They told him that he had no choice but to get rid of or recruit this hacker to the agency, but nope, no way in hell was he going to get a kid involved in this lifestyle. He had been there and as much relief as he felt to save his brother, he hated living this way and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone who had a choice.

He ignores those thoughts and starts thinking of a way to let his agency know that he had simply gotten rid of the hacker without actually doing it. Because hey, he’s not going to hurt a kid. He’s also not going to let them jump into this.

Nope.

No way.

This kid is scared, nervous, and afraid. They just wanted to help others that needed it. There was nothing wrong with that. He sees their pain and he seems himself in their eyes. He spends the rest of the night talking to the kid about his own experiences and how he discovered his love of technology and slowly but surely, they open up to him about their own circumstances.

It takes a bit of time, but they start to trust him.

Seven lies to his agency and to Vanderwood about what he did after he lives the kid in their apartment. They know how to fend for themselves so he does let them handle themselves for a period of time but he’s constantly checking up on them and making sure that they’re safe and sound from threats.

He does help them learn how to protect themselves and their apartment from outside threats. They’re a cautious kid, and they know that they need to be more careful and wary. Seven helps them become much better at what they’re doing but he does ask that they never lose that belief in their heart to be a good person with this power.

Although, the cat memes stay.

They got Jumin Han really good with those cat memes since Seven asked them if they could do it. Now, that was hilarious. Seven becomes a big brother figure to this kid, and he really cares for them a lot. He often does joke to the rest of the RFA that he's got a little stray that he takes care of often that’s to blame.

Nobody believes him.

He wants to protect them and he wants to make sure that they’re alright. He checks up on them every day and if anything feels weird, then he spends time talking to them and reassuring them of any of their fears that they may be having.

It’s actually six months after he meets the kid that the incident with Unknown happens and he starts speaking to the kid a little less often, and the kid reaches out to him in midst of the drama. They offer to help him track down the other hacker so he can focus on maintaining his systems, and while he hates to involve them, they really make things a lot easier for Seven.

It’s obvious that Seven is really struggling with his MC at the time too, and the kid is the one to tell him off for being a dumbass. It’s the first time that shy little kid is brazen enough to tell somebody off. They’re partially the reason that Seven gets off his high-horse and starts to open up to his MC in the apartment.

The kid is the reason that it doesn’t take Seven as long as to realize that he can care about others and make a difference. It’s okay for him to lean on others. Be it his MC, or the kid.

You know what, the kid probably reached out to the MC more than once during the experience but Seven doesn’t know about that because the kid asked MC not to say anything about it. Seven only figures that out when he gets a call from the kid after he and MC have made up and they blurt out if Seven has finally admitted that he likes MC.

“...I didn’t tell you about that, kid.”

“Oopsy daisy.”

“I told them, Seven. Don’t get angry at them because I don’t know when to stop talking!”

After Seven works everything out with his brother and he’s free from the agency, able to live with his brother in peace without worrying about fear or harm, the kid has no choice but to move in with Seven, Saeran, and MC. Neither MC nor Seven wanted them to live alone anymore because they didn’t have to do that anymore.

That kid had a family.

And it was apart of what Seven was building with MC.

So, MC and Seven basically adopt the kid and they move in with them all, and they get to have a family again. MC dotes on them, and Seven teases them. Even Saeran is really fond of the kid but he won’t outright admit it to anyone.

The RFA takes to the kid rather quickly too!

Yoosung is happy that he isn’t the youngest person anymore and he makes fast friends with the kid, becoming a mentor of sorts.

Zen promises to be a person they can turn to when they need advice but they should know that he’ll defend their honor.

Jaehee is a great role model for them who tries to remind them to take care of themselves.

Jumin finally knows who was sending him all those cat memes, honestly, he liked them and he and the kid have a hilarious banter about them now.

This once very young and nervous hacker now has a family all of their own thanks to Seven’s warm heart.

#anon #ask #kid hacker au #mod kait #mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #mysme #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #seven mm #mm seven #mysme seven #seven mysme #seven mystic messenger #mystic messenger seven #707

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tamedbyafox · 3 years

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why is it so wrong for property owners to take steps to ensure random strangers don't use their property to camp out? you typed up so much about the evils of hostile architecture, if that's what you believe then are you inviting homeless ppl to sleep in your backyard or living room instead? why not?? maybe because people you don't know have the potential to be destructive and dangerous????

this is the sort of very sad attitude that I think hostile architecture creates and encourages. I’m very sorry you live your life in so much fear. Can you really think your perception of your property’s relative safety is more important than someone else’s safety, and the thinnest smidgen of comfort?

Your ask only talks about houseless people, not those who are disabled, elderly, or have a house and simply want to socialize out in the public space. So it doesn’t address what I added to that post, but I’ll stake out my general thoughts on this nonetheless. Next time, you may want to try addressing the issues someone’s actually speaking on rather than raising the standard “Not-In-My-Backyard” defenses.

First, other people aren’t an existential threat. People existing in the general vicinity of you, or the general vicinity of your stuff, isn’t some huge threat. Most people are just people, wanting to go about their day and be left alone. People are generally ok, and they’re part of your community. To the extent that people (housed and unhoused, in public and in private) do cause harm, simply saying “you can’t sit here!” isn’t actually addressing the problem. And this also ignores that those who are unhoused are more often the harmed party than the one causing harm.

And, on the same point, if you’re going to say that unknown people are dangerous, you can’t even justify the existence of a shopping mall or a mega-store. Too many people, they might be dangerous. A laundromat? A school? A Church?!?! Theme parks??!!?!? Any sort of public space could be a threat, we should just abolish them all. The idea that people you don’t know are inherently dangerous is the deathknell of any hope of community.

Second, you’re making a false equivalency between public space and private space with your comment on living rooms. (the backyard, interestingly, is a reality for many people - there are several houseless people who stay in what I and my neighbors consider our “backyard”, and thats just fine. We’ve never had issues.) Those images in the post though, were of park benches, sidewalks, the buildings that abut a sidewalk, little trees and such. That’s a public space for people to be in! Those spaces are specifically designed for people to be in! Public spaces are for us to use! And that means all people - the houseless, the disabled, community members who just want to be outside. These park benches and trees and sidewalks were put there for the community. And to the extent that some corporation wants their storefront to take advantage of the traffic of the community, they should have to be welcoming of our community - all of it, housed, unhoused. And if the space can be used by someone to stay warm or dry, then they should do that.

Third, these people are forced to “camp out” in these spaces because we, their community, have failed them. There are systemic failures that prevent them from sleeping somewhere warmer than that. Somewhere safer than that. And I am absolutely working towards a world where everyone has the right to a warm, safe, stable housing situation. But until that day, I’m not going to deny them the panacea of a slightly warmer place, a slightly more sheltered place, a slightly safer place. Can you really look at someone huddling in a building’s indent to get out of the wind and kick them out? Why should I punish someone for a situation caused by a systemic failure of our society?

Fourth, these bits of sharp metal and wooden dividers don’t actually solve a single problem. The act of putting up some hostile architecture doesn’t address safety, or houselesness, or any other root issue. It simply pushes the problem onto someone else. All these achieve is forcing people you don’t want to see somewhere else. It doesn’t make them, or you, or the people in the space they’re going to fo to, more safe. It doesn’t end houselessness or bring about better social conditions or even make the community safe. It just means you don’t have to look at it. Hostile architecture is the ultimate NIMBY mentality of out of sight, out of mind.

Finally, I hope you take a second and think about what it means to hold the value of property above the value of another human being. I’d love to invite you to read, or watch, A Christmas Carol. It’s the season, after all. I’m going to include two passages below I think are rather pertinent.

Here, two gentlemen have come to Mr. Scrooge, before his visit by the spirits, to ask him to make some charitable donation:

“At this festive season of the year, Mr. Scrooge,” said the gentleman, taking up a pen, “it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the Poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries; hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir.”

“Are there no prisons?” asked Scrooge.

“Plenty of prisons,” said the gentleman, laying down the pen again.

“And the Union workhouses?” demanded Scrooge. “Are they still in operation?”

“They are. Still,” returned the gentleman, “I wish I could say they were not.”

“The Treadmill and the Poor Law are in full vigour, then?” said Scrooge.

“Both very busy, sir.”

“Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course,” said Scrooge. “I’m very glad to hear it.”

“Under the impression that they scarcely furnish Christian cheer of mind or body to the multitude,” returned the gentleman, “a few of us are endeavouring to raise a fund to buy the Poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We choose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt, and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?”

“Nothing!” Scrooge replied.

“You wish to be anonymous?”

“I wish to be left alone,” said Scrooge. “Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas and I can’t afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned—they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there.”

“Many can’t go there; and many would rather die.”

“If they would rather die,” said Scrooge, “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population. Besides—excuse me—I don’t know that.”

“But you might know it,” observed the gentleman.

“It’s not my business,” Scrooge returned. “It’s enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people’s. Mine occupies me constantly. Good afternoon, gentlemen!”

And the second portion that I think speaks well to the problems of hostile architecture, and the isolation and ignorance it reinforces, is when Christmas Present shows Scrooge the meager Christmas of a houseless London family, and Scrooge sees something truly horrifying:

“Forgive me if I am not justified in what I ask,” said Scrooge, looking intently at the Spirit’s robe, “but I see something strange, and not belonging to yourself, protruding from your skirts. Is it a foot or a claw?”

“It might be a claw, for the flesh there is upon it,” was the Spirit’s sorrowful reply. “Look here.”

From the foldings of its robe, it brought two children; wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable. They knelt down at its feet, and clung upon the outside of its garment.

“Oh, Man! look here. Look, look, down here!” exclaimed the Ghost.

They were a boy and girl. Yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility. Where graceful youth should have filled their features out, and touched them with its freshest tints, a stale and shrivelled hand, like that of age, had pinched, and twisted them, and pulled them into shreds. Where angels might have sat enthroned, devils lurked, and glared out menacing. No change, no degradation, no perversion of humanity, in any grade, through all the mysteries of wonderful creation, has monsters half so horrible and dread.

Scrooge started back, appalled. Having them shown to him in this way, he tried to say they were fine children, but the words choked themselves, rather than be parties to a lie of such enormous magnitude.

“Spirit! are they yours?” Scrooge could say no more.

“They are Man’s,” said the Spirit, looking down upon them. “And they cling to me, appealing from their fathers. This boy is Ignorance. This girl is Want. Beware them both, and all of their degree, but most of all beware this boy, for on his brow I see that written which is Doom, unless the writing be erased. Deny it!” cried the Spirit, stretching out its hand towards the city. “Slander those who tell it ye! Admit it for your factious purposes, and make it worse. And bide the end!”

“Have they no refuge or resource?” cried Scrooge.

“Are there no prisons?” said the Spirit, turning on him for the last time with his own words. “Are there no workhouses?”

The bell struck twelve.

#Anonymous

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voxvulgi · 4 years

Note

multiples of 6 - for whoever you think has the best answer including youuuu (you can skip those you don't like xD)

// alright so *cracks knuckles* *puts on accountant hat* *takes out calculator* in 100, the largest multiple of 6 is 96, which has 16 6′s in it. i have 18 muses, but 4 of them are exclusive, so i can stick to the 14 non-exclusive muses and have 2 questions to spare, which i can answer myself

Keep reading

6: do you keep plants?

“I do. I live alone, so the flat feels dead sometimes. Plants help me feel like I don’t live alone. I do like isolation, but that’s only to a certain extent. Plants are living beings you have to take care of, and they’re a sight for sore eyes, too. I especially like them in the kitchen. When I wake up to make breakfast, the sun is at an angle that pours gold into my kitchen window, and the specific shade of green of their leaves is absolutely gorgeous. I also have a group of small pots to plant thyme and rosemary and such. I could just buy them fresh, but picking your spices yourself every now and again just...engulfs the senses.”

12: what's your favorite planet?

“When Malik asked me this question and I told him Uranus, he laughed at me for ten minutes straight. At first, he laughed for a few seconds because he thought I was making a joke, but when I told him I was serious, he laughed for the rest of the ten. I really wish scientists just let Uranus be called Ouranos. Did they really not consider that sometime in the future, a girl would tell someone that her favourte planet was your-anus and get laughed at? Rude. But anyway, Uranus is my favourite planet...literally just because it’s pretty. Blue is my favourite colour. Also, it’s the only planet that spins on its side, which was what made me decide that it was more worthy of being my favourite planet than Neptune. Neptune just goes with the flow. Lame, right? Uranus is not like other planets. It’s different. It stays home and eats chicken nuggets instead of going to parties. Also, it was the only planet named after a Greek god instead of a Roman one, and when I found that out, I was like finally, and I just made it my favourite planet.”

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

“I live with my cousins, alright? They own a pub. So, basically, we live upstairs, and the pub is downstairs and open until late. My cousins don’t have a problem with this because they set their won work hours and wake and sleep as they please and all, but I have to attend work with the local herbalist sometimes because she trains me. So, one night, the pub was open well after the usual closing time because some man was getting married in a few days and wanted to celebrate with his friends. I’m not the kind of person to tell people how to live their lives and how late to go to bed, but I was irritated and went downstairs to ask my cousin when this would be over. You know, just so I could get a good idea of when I’ll finally be able to sleep. When I got there, the man to be married was flirting with the barmaid. I would have ignored it, but she looked terribly uncomfortable. I told him off first, and it didn’t work-- obviously. So I went back to my room and gathered some leftover poison ivy powder. I went back downstairs, flirted with him, and unbuckled his belt in front of all his friends. They ooh’ed and ahh’ed because they’re idiots, then I tugged on the back of his waistband and left him with poison ivy all over his arse. I waited until his face twisted and he started drunkenly panicking, then I left. That man didn’t know I’m related to the owners since my cousins are white and all, so there was no harm done to the pub’s reputation, but my cousins and the pub workers -- even the barmaid -- now keep asking me not to hide poison ivy in their pants whenever I look even mildly disapproving.”

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

“I’d trust Alan with every one of my secrets. Except if I do something that isn’t actually worrying but I think might worry him anyway. Because he’s a worrier. That’s not technically a secret.”

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

“Look, I think everyone has been truly scared. There’s always a moment in their life that really scares them, and just because it isn’t as scared as they can psychologically be doesn’t mean it wasn’t true scared. So yes, I have been truly scared. The most scared I’ve ever been was, obviously enough, when I got the phone call from my mother about Joseph.”

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?

“Branches. They’re upbeat but at the same time make me feel calm and relaxed, which is thankfully my mood in general.”

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

“My favourite coffee shop is a block down from my work. I rarely take work there, usually just buy a coffee and leave or stay for a while and lounge. It’s my favourite because they make the coffee taste how it smells. If coffee doesn’t taste the way it smells, you might as well be drinking mud water. They practically have walls instead of windows, and there’s this terrace on the second floor. It gives you a good view of the street. Looks best in the morning because there’s a park just a street away and people everywhere. The coffee shop itself -- the interior, I mean -- is just clean and tidy. Their seats are comfortable but don’t look like something a wannabe hippie would own. They like their plants in moderation. Their tables are glass, not metal or wood. They don’t have puns or cheesy quotes anywhere. I like that.”

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

“My biggest fear was that a dragon would kidnap my mom and hide her in a tower. I thought and still think that my mom is so pretty! So I figured that if a dragon was going to kidnap someone, it would be my mom. I don’t have that fear now, but I’m...well, I’m really afraid of Jace dying.”

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

“Jenny and Dean last father’s day. Their dad’s already been dead for about a year at that point, but...hell, it’s their dad. I probably looked really sad, too, and he wasn’t even my biological dad.”

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

“I do like poetry. Not big on the older stuff, mostly because of the language barrier. The modern stuff is easier to understand. I actually prefer confessional poetry because it’s like looking into the dark corners of someone’s mind, and not in this romanticised way. Not for me, at least. This certain kind makes me feel seen because when someone shares their experiences from behind their own eyes, in their own shoes, they experience emotions and thoughts that are so raw and human that I feel less alone reading them. I haven’t read that much, to be honest, so I don’t have favourites. I’ve only read the more popular ones that have been coming out in the past decade, so I think picking a favourite is unfair because my pool is so small.”

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

“I don’t know. I’ve never worn a flower crown, but I suppose that if I were given one, I’d like for it to have a good amount of leaves along with the flowers. Green is my favourite colour. The flowers can be anything, but I think open ones look better. Maybe daisies-- they sound perfect. Yellows and pinks and reds would be welcome, too, as long as there’s a good amount of white daisies.”

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?

“I would not say I forget easily, but I note everything down, just in case. Some things are too important to get wrong, while others just cause avoidable inconvenience. It helps me organise my time and prioritise, too, so I just opt for making notes.”

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

“Fanclub! They’re very cute. I only saw them in that movie called Despicable Me. Most of the time, Ivan and I aren’t allowed to use the TV, but it was on one of the days we were allowed, so we watched it. I liked it a lot. The minions are so full of energy and happy and stuff.”

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

“Ooooh, yes!! I’m gonna get a bunch of tattoos! They won’t be anything fancy, though. Just some stars and smiley faces here and there. They’ll all be in colour. Nothing black or white. There’s probably gonna be some small dinosaurs. And music notes. Oh, and rocket ships! I’ll just get a tattoo every time I think of something. They’ll be small. Like, and inch or something, so there’s plenty of room!”

90: talk about one of your favorite cities.

“Paris is my favourite city. The thing about it is...it loves you. That’s how I can describe it. It’s a very old city, okay? A lot of shit went down in it. There were wars and revolutions and all that. I admit that I don’t know much about the historical details because I sucked ass in history class, but I just feel like Paris was founded on fighting, and people fight for their rights and the things they love. So...I think that every building in Paris was made with love and built with a purpose. I don’t like New York because I feel like it just wants to eat you. Paris loves you. I’m very appreciative of that, and I’m appreciative of the buildings most of all. Especially the old ones are gorgeous. I try to incorporate as much of Paris into my architecture models as I could.”

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

“Not really quickly. If I just got on my computer and it tells me it needs to update, I wait until I’m done with my task before I update it. Otherwise, it’ll keep bothering me about it, so I just like to get it over with. Similar thing with my phone. I postpone the update until bedtime then let it update while I sleep. No need to let it disturb the flow of my day, you know? But I’m still gonna do it. I’m not a big procrastinator.”

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oceanna1919 · 5 years

Text

Day Trip {1X08,part 2} Bellamy Blake Fanfiction! Darkness!

It has felt like hours have gone by when really, I know it’s barely been more than 20 minutes. I’m sure he didn’t just leave, because his bag is still here. I let out a sigh and I decided to go find him.

“Nothing personal.” I hear someone say. I saw Dax, one of the delinquents, pointing a gun at Bellamy’s head. I stopped dead in my tracks .My eyes widened and my throat has tightened with fear. Bellamy was on the floor, defenceless but had his hand in the air as though he was holding a gun. What the hell is wrong with him? Maybe Dax hit his head pretty hard. I quickly looked around me, trying to find a quick solution, but I didn’t find any. I should have brought a gun with me. I decided to do what I have been doing from the day I came down here. Put myself in danger. In the blink of an eye, I ran and dived at Dax and we tumbled to the floor. I sat on top of him and started punching him. He caught hold of my wrists to prevent me from hitting him. He tighten his grip so much, soft whimper escapes from my lips. He put me on my back on the floor and sat on top of me, pinning my arms above my head.

‘’ Well, well, well. Who we have here? Jasmine Kane’’ He said with a huge smirk on his stupid face. I glared at him and if looks could kill, he would be dead.

‘’Let me go, you dick!’’ I yelled, trying to hit him with my legs, but it was not use.

‘’ Shumway said no witnesses.’’ Dax said looking down at me.

‘’What are you talking about?’’ I asked puzzled and I quickly glanced in the direction of Bellamy. He was still on the floor, not moving.

‘’ Shumway set it up. He gave Bellamy the gun to shoot the chancellor.’’ He informed me and I wasn’t surprised. I never trusted this guy.

‘’ You know Kane. I always found you very attractive’’ he said with lust, making my blood ran cold. This was like a Deja-vu.

‘’ Sorry. The feeling is not mutual’’ I said through gritted teeth. He let go of my wrists and I immediately moved them to his shoulder, trying to push him away. With one movement, he ripped my shirt in half, leaving me only in my bra. I let out a loud scream and wiggled around to get free. Dax pried my hands away from his shoulder roughly and pinned them above my head again. Please ,Bellamy ,wake up!

Dax was about to kiss my neck, but he was thrown off of me by Bellamy. Bellamy kneeled down and pierced Dax’s neck with something, killing him almost instantly. Bellamy’s face was covered in blood as he stared at Dax with pure hate. I stand on my feet slowly and ran and hugged Bellamy’s waist. He must have been a bit startled, ‘cause he didn’t hug me back instantly. As Bellamy was holding me securely, he rested his head on mine.

‘’Are you okay?’’ Bellamy asked me quickly, pulling me even closer, if that was possible. I just nodded, not wanting to talk about Dax. Νot right now.

‘’I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for wanting to leave you. I was not thinking straight.’’ He apologised. I pulled away a little bit, making him look at me. He pursed his lip in shame. I inhale sharply, wanting to make a snide comment but I decided against it.

‘’Bellamy! You’re okay Bellamy.’’ I comforted him, as he started to shake a little bit. He shook his head and sat down with his back against a tree.

‘’ No Jasmine, I'm not. My mother... If she knew what I've done, who I am she raised me to be better, to be good. All I do is hurt people. I'm a monster. ’’ He said and his voice cracked in the end. I kneeled in front of him, grabbing his face in my hands.

‘Hey...You’re always saving me. You may be a total ass most the time, but I need you. I like you that way, Bellamy. We all need you. None of us would've survived this place if it wasn't for you. You want forgiveness, fine, I'll give it to you. You're forgiven, ok, but you can't run, Bellamy. You have to come back with me. You have to face it.’’ I admitted with a smile. He placed his hands over my own and took a deep breath. He nodded and he gave me a small smile back.

‘’I have to speak with Jaha.’’ He said, after seconds of thinking.

‘’it’s the best thing to do.’’ I nodded agreeing with him.

‘’Will you be by my side when I do that?’’ He asked me shyly and I let out a soft laugh.

‘’Of course, Bellamy. Anything for you.’’ I said before kissing his left cheek. Bellamy swallowed before he pulled me into his embrace.

‘’Um Jasmine I think you need my jacket.’’ Bellamy pointed out seconds later and my cheeks flushed red as a tomato. I crossed my arms,covering my upper body, feeling self-conscious. Bellamy took off his jacket and wrapped it around me and I murmured a ‘thank you’.

‘’ Jasmine you have a beautiful body. But our camp is filled with hormonal teenagers and I don’t want them looking at you. It makes me wanna murder them.’’ Bellamy confessed with a frown.,making me blush even harder. He’s gonna be the death of me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`s~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What if he brings other grounders back? He'll kill us all.” Someone declared.

“Or worse.” Someone added.

“Let the grounders come!” Bellamy’s voice boomed as we entered the camp dripping with confidence.

“We've been afraid of them for far too long, and why? Because of their knives and spears.” Bellamy said with a strong voice.

‘’Well, I don't know about you,” He glanced at me and smirked as we dropped the bags of guns on the ground for everyone to see.

“But I’m tired of being afraid.” He continued as gasps and murmurs were made from the crowd.

‘’These are weapons, ok, not toys, and we have to be prepared to give them up to the guard when the dropships come, but until then, they're gonna help keep us safe..” I announced happily.

“And there are plenty more where these came from. Tomorrow we start training. If the grounders come, we're gonna be ready to fight.” Bellamy added with a proud smile on his face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~c~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘’Hey do you need a shirt?’’ A voice said from behind me and I turned around to see Raven. I nodded slowly and she made a sign for me to follow her. We entered the dropship and she went to her bag and she pulled a green shirt and gave it to me. I took it, taking Bellamy’s jacket off and pulling the shirt over quickly.

‘’Thanks’’ I thanked with a smile.

‘’No problem . I’m Raven.’’ She said pulling out her hand for me to shake it.

‘’ I know. I’m Jasmine.’’ I said shaking her hand.

‘’ I know.’’

‘’Hey, if you need someone to speak to, I am available.’’

‘’But I thought you were Clarke’s best friend?!’’ she asked confused and I nodded.

‘’Yes I am. But that doesn’t mean that I’m not a girl. I know it’s not my place to say anything, but honestly you shouldn’t be angry after Clarke. She didn’t know about you and Finn. It was Finn’s fault. Put the blame on the right person’’ I said honestly. She stayed quiet. Probably thinking of what I said.

‘’Thanks for the shirt again. I really appreciate it.’’ I waved at her before leaving.

‘’ Jasmine! You’re not going to believe this!’’ Octavia exclaimed happily running in my direction, as I walked out of the dropship.

‘’Ain’t I?’’ I asked as she pulled me away, to the side.

‘’He kissed me. The grounder kissed me!’’ she squealed like a schoolgirl. My eyes widened. I didn’t expect that. I smiled and I hugged and she hugged me back.

‘’Was he a good kisser?’’ I smirked and she nodded, making my smile grew.

‘’I’m very happy for you Octavia, but don’t say this to anyone, alright? Especially your brother. He is going to kill you, the grounder and me.’’ She rolled her eyes, still with a smile on her face.

‘’ I don’t want to die this young.’’ She laughed and I joined her.

‘’You are the one who let him free, huh?’’ she nodded. She looked behind me and her smile faded.

‘’What are you two talking about?’’ I turned around and I saw Bellamy looking suspiciously at us.

‘’Nothing. About periods. You know, girly stuff.’’ I said quickly, with a nervous laugh and Octavia nudged me in the ribs.

‘’What was that for?’’ I glared at her and we both turned around and smiled nervously at Bellamy. He looked at us with raised eyebrows and shook his head.

“I don't expect you to forgive me, but you'll have to find a way to live with me because I'm not going anywhere.’’ Bellamy said looking at his sister, before giving us two blankets and he left. Octavia and I let out a sigh of relief and we put the blankets around us.

‘’ That was close.’’ Octavia said letting out a deep breath.

‘’ Really close.’’ I added.

‘’ Bellamy asked me if I helped in the grounder’s escaping I said no, of course. Did he ask you too?’’ He asked me.

‘’Yes he did. I told him no too.’’

“Jasmine, it’s time.’’ Bellamy yelled from outside the communications tent.

‘’ I gotta go’’ I said before setting off running.

When I entered, I saw Bellamy already sitting down with a headset on his head and Jaha on the screen. I sat down quickly and I put the other pair of headset.

‘’ Mr. Blake, I've wanted to talk to you for some time now.’’ Jaha said and I felt Bellamy become stiff. I took his hand on my own and I felt him relax a little bit.

‘’ Before you do, I'd like to say something. When you sent us down here, you sent us to die, but miraculously, most of us are still alive. In large part, that is because of him, because of Bellamy. He's one of us, and he deserves to be pardoned of his crimes just like the rest of us.’’ I informed the Jaha with a smile.

‘’ I appreciate your point of view, but it's not that simple.’’ Jaha said with crossed arms.

‘’It is if you want to know who on The Ark wants you dead.’’ Bellamy chimed in. Good job Blake!

‘’ Bellamy Blake, you're pardoned for your crimes. Now, tell me who gave you the gun.’’ Yessss! That means Bellamy will not be killed when the ark comes down.

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake imagines #the 100 bellamy #bellamy blake fanfic #bellamy blake smut imagines #baby preferences #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #baby #darkness #fanfiction #imagines #love story #the 100 imagine #bellamy blake one shot #fanfic #one shot #the100

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unofficial-underfell · 6 years

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Whenever I see Chara being portrayed as a murderous demon child, I just want to hug them so bad! I won't get angry at other people's opinions, but I still don't like it! I relate to them so much!

Dude I TOTALLY Agree, like, I get the only time you see their physical appearance is in a negative light, but at the same time, following the heavy evidence towards the narrator chara theory and analyzing their motives and emotions a little bit, we can see that the kid is a lot more multidimensional than people give them credit for!

Gonna ramble for juuust a minute here but they say stuff like “Cactus, truly the most tsundere of plants.” and “Scandalous! It’s Toriel’s sock drawer.” Like that is a kid who is funny, probably has some dry wit, but they tell PUNS too.

“Mandanna” “Leg, Hero” “Bisicle/ Unisicle”

This is a kid who probably picked up on the general light-hearted humor of the family since their time staying with the Dreemurrs, as well as some cultural osmosis I would think, being that anime seems to be an extremely important cultural aspect of the underground (that is a sentence that was bizarre even for me).

And they have a little bit of dark humor, as evidenced here by thier “dirty joke” towards woshua

It doesn’t make much sense until you realize they were telling a joke about a kid who took a “dirt nap”; why would Frisk to tell a joke about a dead child? Now, it would seem out of place unless you look at the Chara is the narrator theory, putting the thought of that into their mind.

There was a pink hand knit sweater, probably made my Chara and Asriel, that said “Mr. Dad Guy” for Asgore! And he’s kept it all those years. I know it may have been knitted by Toriel, but Chara pauses before finishing that sentence, almost as if they needed a moment.

Oh yeah, demon children with nothing but Chaos and destruction on their mind draw FLOWERS, and no, before Flowey, so no dramatic cruel irony, just probably saw a pretty flower and drew it.

The kid hated humanity, but any child who hates humanity was probably undoubtedly wronged in some way by them, especially if the parents were negligent enough to allow their child climb the cursed mountain where “Legends say those who climb the mountain never return.” They also say shit like, ‘If you look cute, monsters won’t hit you as hard.” Like, what kid who hasn’t experienced something like that says, well, something like that?

Nobody is born evil, and I think that, well, considering characters like Flowey, that’s a big point Undertale was trying to drive home. Another thing I picked up on Undertale was that good people can do bad things with good intentions, even if all the motivations were not pure as gold, as evidenced by Asgore and Toriel.

Asgore killed children to bring hope to the monsters, bad thing for a good cause, but he was also motivated by his fear of humanity. Because of the atrocities humanity had committed against monsterkind, he was afraid. The death of his beloved children? He was greiving. Sadness and fear, as well as duty to the kingdom, encouraged him to put aside his morals to prevent crisis.

He is a kind man, silly sometimes even, giving Alphys a lizard cup he thought looked like her (a professional under his rule, he’s like her boss and Alphys is comfortable enough to have a crush on him), and forgiving, giving Alphys a hug and forgiving her for being afraid of confessing about the amalgamates, because in the end she did the right thing. *cough* But according to Toriel she didn’t do the right thing soon enough *cough*

And speaking of Toriel, Toriel had left him when he decided to kill the children, stating that there was another way. But people were dying of the loss of Hope, waiting on another child to fall and die of old age wasn’t an option for most of them, not when the whole kingdom was stricken with grief. Toriel stated that he could have taken just one child’s soul, and taken to to get help from the humans, or perhaps to get souls from the sick and dying, but is she not a boss monster as well? When Asgore failed to step up to the task, Toriel failed too. Where was she when the underground was collapsing, falling down?

She got into the throne room easily enough to attack the king, it’s not like coming back wasn’t an option. Fear and Pride are her motivators, and she did not want to admit she was afraid, nor that her morals were in fact, fallible.

Granted, she did change her mind later, coming after Frisk in the end, but we gotta remember, six other humans weren’t as lucky as Frisk.

I believe some motivation as to why she protected humans who fell down to was make up for the fact that because of her and her ex- husband’s cowardice, they would be killed later. Motivated also by wanting to relive her happy past perhaps, she stays in the ruins after all, and has not changed furniture around for what can be assumed to be a century or longer. Perhaps she blames herself as well, and I would honestly like to see that explored more, but back to Chara for now.

Now, if they liked the Dreemurs even a little bit, think, for one second, that maybe a 9-year old is not a manipulative demonic mastermind, and enjoyed having a loving family who showed them love and friendship and kindness, things they probably were lacking on the surface, that could add an entirely new motivation. Asgore kept telling them they were the hope for humans and monsters, they probably learned about souls, basic monster history and what human and monster souls did, they could have killed themselves, and knew their soul could be used to free monsterkind.

But Chara did want to go back just to kill the humans, say they were just a vengeful, hateful child for what humanity had done to them, whatever that may be, even if you think it’s minor, this child felt so STRONGLY about it that they took their own life. That’s strong evidence that this was a child struggling with something deep within themselves, that they couldn’t come to grips with, and they wanted to end the pain. A child was driven to suicide out of hatred and vengence, and people are going to completely and utterly demonize that?

So, Chara killed themselves to free the monsters, but was also motivated by vengence to get back at humanity for what happened during thier time on the surface. A person did a bad thing with good intentions, but all the motivations were not pure as gold. Seems to run in the family don’t it?

And the way they killed themselves?

Buttercups.

The same thing they accidentally poisoned Asgore with, the same thing he almost died from, and where they learned about that poison. Just because they laughed didn’t mean it was funny.

Going to assume tears also ran down thier cheeks when Asgore got poisoned too.

We all know Chara had a daggar, it would have been quick that way, they could have made that look like an accident. There’s other kids of poison probably, something faster, maybe. There’s a lot of ways. But instead they decided to die slowly and painfully, with stinging and itching poison, the same thing they hurt thier dad with.

Now, as for Chara’s relationship with Asriel, there’s plenty of evidence Chara and Asriel had good times together, Chara’s the only person Flowey cares about as a soulless husk, for one. The Best Friends Forever amulet, the Memorial which is highly believed to be of the soul-fusion before they dusted (Memory plays, which is Chara and Asriel’s combined theme), and even when the Asriel Dreemur Memory Sequence happened, those memories were a combination or Chara and Asriel’s memories, There is no possible way Frisk could have known those memories were there, Frisk probably wasn’t even alive at the time. And the only other people who could have shared some of them were the newly freed Lost Souls, Toriel and Asgore, and they weren’t there for half of them.

Chara and Asriel were not the healthiest sibling relationship. But relationships AREN’T always black and white, abuser and victim, sometimes people just aren’t good for each other. And it’s unfair to paint Chara as abuser and Asriel as victim, they were children, they probably didn’t realize all the nuances to unhealthy relationships, heck, if Chara had experienced abusive behaviors in their time on the surface, (ie. Big kids don’t cry) then they couldn’t see a pattern with what they were doing as unusual, especially given Asriel’s idolization of them and his willingness to enable them to do things that miiiight not be the best idea. (Making a pie without thier mom’s help, killing themselves, little things). But just because they weren’t the healthiest relationship didn’t mean Asriel and Chara didn’t CARE about each other. Chara and Asriel TRUSTED each other, Chara for Asriel to carry out the plan, Asriel for Chara to go through with thiers.

And over the years, even after Chara caused Asriel to lose his ability to love, even after he lost his body, he did not hate Chara. He put the kid on a pedestal, and they are a multifaceted kid, they are not a beacon of perfection, and even according to Asriel, they were not the best person. But even still, there’s no way he would put the kid on a pedestal for no good reason. They probably had lots of good, happy times together, and as his time as Flowey, he remembered them, he clung to them, like sticky seeds that don’t want to let go. And he MISSED them.

And dipping into Badtime territory, Sans and Asgore are killed automatically, however

It is the PLAYER who must click to follow through with the killing blow. It is NOT an immediate action on Chara’s part.

Also lest not forget the ONLY fights during pacifist the narration gets into “Serious Mode” for are the fights against the Dreemurr family; the fights hold a lot of weight in regards to storytelling, so that is a possible motive for the activation of serious mode, but it is also Chara’s family. And that’s a fact that I don’t think should be outright ignored.

When Frisk fell off the bridge and landed on the pile of flowers in waterfall, Asriel’s first words to Chara played. Every time Frisk dies, Asgore’s words to Chara to Stay Determined, ring through Frisk’s head. This is IRREFUTEABLE evidence that throughout pacifist, CHARA. IS. THERE. (also that there’s heavy evidence they are the narrator but I digress)

And they are there, NOT guiding Frisk to do genocide, not encouraging violence, they are there, commenting on how Frisk plays in the leaves, calling pie Buttspie, makes jokes as to Frisk’s greed from taking too many pieces of monster candy, they emulate FRISK. And who controls them? YOU.

They look for guidance from Frisk. And what Frisk does is what we have them do. The true enemy of Undertale isn’t the evil “demon that comes when they call it’s name.” YOU called their name and YOU guide them through paths with Frisk.

All that reloading and resetting even after getting fucking obliterated by sans a gazillion times? That was the player doing that, Chara is just looking to you for what to do next. At ANY point, except until the very end, when you’ve fully brought Chara back under your quest for curiousity, when the world is erased, you could stop, and Chara comes along.

Perhaps Chara and the player share the same “human soul” and ‘determination”, but note the quotes, I believe that what Chara’s referring to is the game constructs of those concepts used during your run.

I think a big mistake that gets made when characterizing Chara, especially for things like comics is that they try to seperate the player from the equation, but like Chara says when you complete genocide a second time,

They then proceed to tell you that you, the player, are strange for wanting to keep recreating and resetting, they can’t understand what you, the player is feeling, because they can’t understand this sense of utter completionism that comes from knowing everything and everything.

The reason they think this was the way to go was because you WILLED this ending to happen. YOUR Guidance. YOUR quest for power. YOUR views as all of monsterkind as the enemy that needed to be eradicated. They took ALL of it to heart, they took all of it as a guide, as they do pacifist. Chara is an impressionable child whose ideals you warp with your genocide route.

And the part where everyone likes to assume Chara was the grand mastermind?

Well, unless you’re masochistic enough to actually enjoy playing through the genocide route through all it’s frustrating grinding and impossible two boss battles, then you kinda let your determination and curiousity get the better of you, huh?

You weren’t even able to control yourself.

Chara is not someone who did nothing wrong, nor is Frisk, following along with all these plans of yours, perhaps for once they decided to follow instead of lead and see how that turns out. They are willing to be complicit in the deaths of all thier loves ones and follow what you say, but sharing your determination and soul, I would say thier choices by themselves are pretty limited.

Going back to what I think is a common trend with people handling Chara’s character in UT comics is that they like to combine Chara with the metaphysical concept known as the “Player”. However a big part of the player’s motivation is simply CURIOSITY and COMPLETIONISM, whereas Chara makes it clear they wish to erase the world, or to even get back at the humans by taking your soul and going to the surface.

The one thing I tend to dislike about removing the player from the eqution is that people also tend to remove Chara’s capacity for good, making them wholly responsible for the genocide route, which i feel undermnes another big lesson from the game, which is Your Chosen Actions have Consequences.

Granted, some instances of this have been done skillfully and tastefully (such as AFAC, which I follow closely because thier Chara is an amazingly done morally dark grey character) but others painting them as a soulless and ruthless murderchild with no room for redemption make me sad because there is so much more to them than that.

Chara can vary wildly depending on what run is done, and whether you complete pacifist or genocide, they’re going to learn lessons based on what they learn from your actions. I believe that the true hero/villain of undertale is YOU, but only if you want to be. Only if your curiosity doesn’t get the better of you. You lend Frisk your determination, and what they can do with it is up to you.

The player’s Determination creates a happy ending, and their Curiosity takes it all away.

I love to see lots of morally grey and even morally dark grey Charas, but it’s gotta be done with sense and taste, depicting Chara as chaos for chaos’ sake makes no sense because, as stated before and what I believe is a big part of UT, No one is born evil. And personally, seeing some softer Chara’s is cool too, we don’t see enough of Chara showing off thier childlike side, and I think it’s great in getting people to see Chara as more of a morally complex character.

But hey, that’s just my 2 cents

whoa geez this is long make that like uhhhhhh $1.36 on the matter

Of course other people have different headcanons and all of my thoughts on this don’t always align with everyone’s headcanons, but I hope you enjoyed my little ramble nonetheless. I want people to be able to see Chara as complex and interesting; despite not being related to the Dreemurrs, they sure tend to be the scapegoat for a lot of the player’s actions less-than-tasteful actions, yet not for any of the good ones. Feel free to add your thoughts to reblogs and such, I love analyzing this game, and I know I probably didn’t get everything right but hey,

*peace sign*

-Mod Avery

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demon-winchester · 3 years

Text

Tremors Behind The Veil Chapter 9

-Chapter 9-

Screaming and howls everywhere

I jumped from the bed with cold sweat and warm tears running down my face.

The nightmares have been getting worse.

Three days have passed with no signs of Circe in any of the abandoned churches surrounding the city.

I have not exchanged words with anyone... the days have felt endless. I need a win.

The doors of the bunker opened and I headed out. The weather was really moody. The sun was cowering behind the clouds and a light fog has coated the city, a city still asleep with only some birds chirping , saying good morning to whoever was unlucky enough to start their day this early. Two churches were left on my list and then, if I had time I would join my classmates for a coffee... Only two days were left after all.

Both churches turned out to be a waste of time. Empty, gothic buildings with some rotten furniture and plenty of bird nests. Another failure, my god I need a break.

I showed up to the cafe and I managed to scare a couple of my friends sitting with their backs turned on me. The time moved swiftly and the atmosphere was really light, it felt like a normal day for once. I tip toed my way around their questions and I must say it went surprisingly better than I expected. Though I couldn't forget the fact that this meetup was more bitter than sweet. It felt like a goodbye and as far as I'm concerned, it was. Lydia emerged with one of the teachers so I excused myself and I approached her once she was alone. We hugged and we started chatting. Eventually, I talked about the dead end I've put myself in because I'm sure her insight would help.

"Huh, abandoned churches you say?" she exclaimed while gazing in the distance, "Chapels are technically churches too aren't they?" she continued. "Well I thought about that too and I've checked.. Even if you count the fact that they are too small for a ritual or something, every last one I've checked was entirely empty" I answered. "Oh damn... OH DAMN" she said jumping up from her seat and smiling, "you know where else you can find a Chapel don't you?" she continued and I was left entirely confused,"Hospitals you idjit!!!".

My eyes lit up, "See, most times you're stupider than a pile of bricks but others... Well other times you surprise me and that's why I love the way you think" I said while starting to gather my stuff. "I'm gonna take the last part as a compliment but nevertheless fuck you!!" she replied. . . "You're leaving already aren't you?" she asked with a lower tone. "That lead might make the difference between life and death and I'm running out of time" I answered. "Tomorrow is the last day you know" she sighed. "I do know, and I'm spending it with you if I find her today... That's why I'm on a hurry" I replied and I hugged her "Bye for now and with a little hope, tomorrow is going to be amazing". "Bye" she replied in a somber tone while I was walking away.

After a bit of research I found an old hospital complex placed near the outskirts. I talked with some people on some creepypasta sites. It's called the Eloise complex but it's known within the community as the Hiver Noir Asylum meaning Black Winter. Stories date back to the Cold War era where the clinically insane were living there and apparently some doctors decided to have some fun with them... Even after all the things I've fought, humans still take the crown for the most despicable. It's been abandoned for 10 years now and it's supposedly haunted, sudden temperature drops, constantly frozen windows and they say you can hear teeth grinding and 'faint wails of anguish of the lost souls', man the creepypasta writers have a lot of imagination. Recently though there have been reports of veiled figures appearing in the premises. Certainly a great contender.

The sun was setting and the scenery was perfect, I of course had the cover of night and the fog would certainly come in useful for getting there... Too far to walk so I had to use my wings.

I landed and dust rose from the ground around me. The asylum was desolate. Overgrown weeds all around the premises and vines slowly making their ascend on the walls of the building . It almost felt like nature had consciousness, like she was trying to reclaim these grounds and then, hopefully, drag this horrid building in the deepest circles of hell.

I approached and I started hearing a weird sound but I couldn't quite understand what it was so I brushed it off. I reached the doors. The windows were frozen and the door knobs were encased in ice.. they wouldn't open. I kicked the doors down and a faint scream was heard in the distance. The weird sound could still be heard but now it was coming from right behind me... I could almost phrase what the sound was.. it stood on the edge of my tongue but I couldn't quite grasp it. I roamed around the building for a bit and the atmosphere was suffocating each and every second.

Eerie phenomenons were happening as I was delving deep inside the building. Peculiar figures standing at the ends of expanding corridors, doors opening and closing by themselves, faint wails in the distance, sudden temperature drops and that awful sound hadn't seized in all this time... My blood was running cold and the exit had never seemed quite so sweet, yet, I had to keep going. The wooden floors were creaking on my every step as I entered a long hallway full of rooms. I kept walking and I was sure some of the footsteps weren't mine. Something was terribly wrong in this asylum.

I was startled and I stopped moving. A face was at the end of the hallway, it was tilting from the wall and looking at me. I - I couldn't move a muscle and the person, or the thing, or whatever it was, it was still staring at me. When I managed to take a step back I felt someone breathing on my shoulder. "Can I crawl inside your body? I feel so, so cold." someone whispered to my ear, then I heard that sound and it was coming from them all this time... They started grinding their teeth.

Countless nights full of feverous dreams and horrific delusions. They all came back, flooding my mind. Memories of that asylum deeply buried were now digging their way back to the surface. I've been here before. I was just a kid when I roamed these halls last time. My grandfather was admitted in this place... He was fighting with Alzheimer's but something else must have been going on in order to be here... This is an asylum for the insane after all. We would visit him during the spring and I can faintly remember the scent of daffodils as if it was dancing around my nose while I was running down these halls... These memories would always end up the same way once I entered the room of my grandfather. Seemingly normal but on a closer look, signs of deterioration all around. From dead flowers to cracked mirrors and even bugs crawling around. This happened every year and I remember that every time he struggled more and more to recognize me. He would tell stories about terrifying witches, fire breathing dragons and castles on snowy mountaintops and even those stories would start to lose meaning the more he kept talking... The words would start colliding and you couldn't understand what he was talking about. I used to have nightmares about these situations and I now believe that's where my fear of getting dementia originates from. After his death I dreamt about some of the other patients, they would visit me in my room at times and they would tell me how my grandfather's torment hasn't stopped... they would tell me he was burning in the pits of hell and that this was my fate as well...they would always grind their teeth as they would enter my room in my dreams..at least I hope it was in my dreams..

The grinding sounds were still right behind me. A weird figure in front of me, something on my back, black goo dripping from the ceiling and now a myriad of doors banging on their own right in front of me. I close my eyes trying to think. Instinctively, I form my hands to fists and I punch the thing behind me falling right through it. It was now walking slowly towards me. Its skin seemed burned and its face . . Oh god it was horrific . . It was just skin apart from a mouth with rotten teeth continuously grinding. It was getting too close. Time to use my powers I thought to myself, I punched it once again making it disappear. "Take the hint asshole" I said and I looked at my fists . . Dark vines all around them, so that's how I can defend myself. I begun walking, the doors all stopped moving at once and the figure in the end of the corridor was now gone . . Finally, some silence.

I kept traversing through the asylum slowly going to higher floors. Weird thing would happen but not too unexpected for this place . . Shadows, screams, the occasional teeth grinding from far far away and doors opening and closing by themselves.

"Sir" I heard a child's voice coming from behind me. I turn around and there he was, a small boy wearing old, almost torn, clothes. "Sir can you help me?" he continued hesitantly. "Hello little dude, what do you need?" I replied, slowly approaching him. "M-My ball . . It's in a room and i'm afraid to go get it." he said looking at the ground. "Hm how about we make a deal, I'll go get you ball and you can tell me if you've seen a girl with white hair and some people wearing black bed sheets, what do you say?" I asked with a reassuring smile. "Deal!" he answered and giggled. "Amazing, so where is that room?" I continued. "Well, it's that one." he replied as he pointed at the end of the hallway. I walked up to the door and a sign was above it saying "ARCHIVES", the door was locked, how do you lose a ball in a locked room I thought to myself. I pushed it and the lock broke immediately revealing the room. You couldn't see much, the only light was coming from the one window of the room, really made me appreciate how surprisingly well lit was the rest of the asylum. I saw the ball at the corner of the room and I went there to pick it up but as my eyes were adjusting to the lighting my blood ran cold. My name . . . my name was written on every wall and ceiling of the room. I picked up the ball and I almost flew out of this room . . Too creepy for my tastes. I started walking and my 'employer' was nowhere in sight. "Hey kid!" I yelled and suddenly he replied behind me, "Yes?" he said. "Okay, I found your ball, tell me about the girl and the people with the bed sheets and it's all yours" I said. "I thought I saw the girl coming here a few nights ago and going to the amphitheater at the top floor but i'm not sure. But, I've seen the bed sheet people hanging out on the top floor the past couple of days." he replied with a smile, never taking his eyes of the ball. "You have been so helpful so here's your ball" I said while handing him the ball, "how did it get in there though?" I continued. "I have no idea" he replied and he grabbed it off of my hand. "Alrighty then, nice meeting you" I said while nodding. "Thanks for the help" he replied. I turned around and I started walking towards the stairs. "Oh yeah, I forgot, do you want me to help you get out of this place?" I said, turning around to face him and he was already gone.

"What the fuck" I said out loud and I started looking for him. A few minutes passed and still no sign, I returned to the archives to take a look and the ball was once again there. I went to pick it up and I noticed that there was another corridor in the archives room. I followed it and at its end I saw the skeleton of a small child with the same clothes my little pal wore. "Oh God" I said silently as the realization hit me. The door closed suddenly and the faceless thing from earlier started emerging from the wall behind the skeleton. I ran but the door was somehow locked again and this time it wouldn't break open. "It's rude to ran away from a lady" the thing said while grinding its teeth. "Fucker if you're a lady i'm turning gay" I sassed while trying to find a way out. I saw a vent and I started climbing on top of some shelves to reach it. I broke open the vent and suddenly while I was climbing inside I couldn't keep moving. "You're not getting away" the thing screeched and grabbed my leg with its slimy arm. I struggled to break free but I couldn't and in the meantime, it kept climbing. Its head emerged and at that moment summoned the vines around my fists and I punched it throwing it on the other side of the room. "I'm not disappearing this time hehe" it said laughing while spilling something white from its mouth . . its blood I assumed. "Do what you want, I'm getting the hell out" I replied while I was dragging myself through the vents.

I heard some weird sounds in the vents and they became more prominent as time passed. "Oh oh" I said and the vents broke down making me hit the floor fave first. I've been through worse I thought to myself and I started running up the stairs to the top floor.

"Time to power up" I said and I summoned my armor along with my sword on my back and my gun on it holster. Harbingers started appearing as I was following the signs to the amphitheater though they would go down way easier than I remembered. The closer I got the more they were and by the time I reached the doors of the room the place was practically crawling with them. I cleared out the place and it was time to see if I had finally found her. I tried to open the doors and as always they wouldn't barge so a kick it is . . . The doors fall down to the floor and I see her, in a chair in the middle of the room just standing there, her eyes turned blank and dozens of harbingers flying around and screaming. I started shooting. That must have done something because she suddenly came to her senses. "You came to get me" she said. "Of course I did" I replied. "Come untie me fast!" she ordered while struggling to get free. "Stay there for a bit, I've got it. Plus if I untie you, you'll have to fight." I continued. "Don't threaten me with a good time" she said smiling. I approached her as I kept shooting and I slashed the chains with my sword, finally the harbingers were almost all gone and I now had some support. The thing came in through the door. "We're not done yet pretty boy" it said and it started approaching. "Damn, she fugly" said Circe. "She?!?!?!" I asked. "How did you know it's a 'she' I continued. "Follow me and I'll tell you as we're escaping" she said and she started running to the roof door. "Well, that's a vengeful spirit and an ugly one at that, basically if their skin seems like it's melting it's a female." she continued as she was kicking the roof door. "Such a smart lady" the thing said, now closing distance fast. The roof door broke down and we were outside . . . The thing was right behind us so we run to the edges. It slowly kept approaching. "You haven't seen what I can do yet" it said and smiled with that horrid rotten teeth. Circe ripped a piece of her shirt and she placed it inside my armor. "We jump on 3" she said. "I'm sorry what, this place is 6 floors tall and-" I continued but she interrupted me, "THREE!" she yelled and she dragged me down with her.

She muttered something while we were falling down and somehow we were safe. "WE COULD HAVE DIED YOU PSYCHO" I screamed at her. "But unfortunately you didn't" said a familiar voice. Smoke came from the roof and danced around the figure that was standing at the entrance of the asylum eventually materializing into the spirit. The figure stepped forward and he was Damien. "Why are you still on our trail" Circe asked with a disappointed tone. "A job is a job love and I have to finish it" he replied with a grim smile. "Let us go and let's put this behind us" Circe continued. "Hell no" I said. "He fucked with us again but this time i'm so much more powerful" I continued. "Aiden stop" said Circe. "Aiden keep going" said Damien. "You indeed have become more powerful" he continued. "And how would you know that?" I asked holding my gun tightly. "Well I've been watching you of course. Not me exactly but my friend Proxy here . . I believe you've met" he said. "Of course that's your friend" I replied. "Aiden, please let's go" said Circe but I couldn't let him go unpunished, let's not forget I now have a really powerful weapon ready to test on him. I drew my sword but his expression was indifferent. I started running my hand across it revealing its new form

. . he smiled and raised his eyebrow. "AIDEN STOP NOW" Circe screamed as the sword was taking form once again. I decided to shoot some energy straight to him but something felt...off. The beam left the sword as Circe was screaming "NO". It all happened so fast. The beam hit him but it did no damage, instead it came straight back to my sword. Circe just started running away. Damien raised his hand and I couldn't move a muscle. "You see I have some tricks of my own" he said. He started approaching. I couldn't do anything. "You see, you have indeed become more powerful but I still played you like a pawn" he said while he drew a pitch black knife. I could only watch. "Once I'm done with you my next target is her." he whispered in my ear and anxiety filled my body, I hoped he was talking about Circe . . I didn't want to think of the alternative. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. He took a the lighter and lit a cigarette. "It feels nice having you as my plaything" he said as he touched the lit cigarette on my face. "What wasted potential" he uttered and he slowly forced the knife into my throat.

I could taste my blood. Everything was turning dark. Hope started slipping through my fingers.

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