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cardcaptorsakura96 · 5 months

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Taxes, Taxes, Taxes- Chapter 10

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Ruby Arias, Oliver Queen, John Stewart, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, J'onn J'onnz, Alfred Pennyworth, Lois Lane, Cat Grant

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

As Kara flew, she replayed over and over again what Clark had just said to her.

I just received a distress signal on my device from my mom. It looks like it is coming from the farm. I am still far out in space and won’t make it in time. Please hurry and help her!

Martha Kent was the first one who welcomed Kara to Earth. She was actually the one who found her when she crash-landed on the planet. She was so kind and loving which was something Kara so desperately needed after seeing her own world shatter before her very eyes. Once Kara got settled at the farm, Martha immediately told Clark about her.

It wasn’t that Clark wasn’t welcoming. He was more cautious. Kara was initially understanding at first. Unfortunately, Zod had come before her and caused havoc on Earth. After Clark sent him to the phantom zone, it took him over a year to rebuild people’s trust in him. Now, he had Kara, a new Kryptonian popping into his life, and he wasn’t sure what her intentions were. Every time he looked at Kara, he seemed conflicted about how to respond. So she gave him space. She stayed at the farm while Clark continued his life in Metropolis. It wasn’t bad. Martha was a second mother to her. She would offer her advice and help her acclimate to society. Kara knows that part of the reason that they bonded was through their tragic losses. Kara had lost everything she knew, and Martha had just lost the love of her life. They leaned on each other to try to continue living. They talked about everything, but the thing that made her the most happy was Martha’s willingness to listen to her tales of Krypton. Clark avoided the subject like the plague, but Martha fully immersed herself. She listened eagerly through all her stories and a lot of the literature that the Fortress of Solitude had. She had also started to learn Kryptonian. She was at a beginner level still, but it made Kara’s heart swell that there was someone else with whom she could converse in her mother language. She couldn’t imagine another person in her life being taken again after everything she went through.

Kara went as fast as she could. She thinks that she broke Mach 5 which she knows will put her in the DEO and possibly the IRS radar again especially if there was property damage. However, Kara didn’t give a damn. She needed to make sure Martha was safe. When she saw the farm in her field of vision, she had to fight her instinct to burst through the door. She remembered how being rash just weeks before nearly led to her almost losing her and Barry’s life, and she didn’t want the same thing to happen to Martha. She flew around the farm while using her X-ray vision. She didn’t see anything unusual until she saw the house. What she saw caused her to go from being frighten to more confused than anything else. She landed as gently as she could on the ground (due to Martha going off on both Clark and Kara for leaving craters across her lawn) and quickly walked to the house. She looked under the mat on the porch to get the spare key and entered the house. She heard noises coming from the kitchen and followed them. Once she got there, she saw Clark in his Superman costume sitting next to an embarrassed Martha in a robe at the kitchen table.

She scanned the room and noticed that there were two long-stemmed candles in the middle of the table and two plates that had little bits of half-eaten food on them. Next to the plates were two wine glasses. One was empty and the other was a quarter of the way full. There were rose petals on the floor that led out of the kitchen into the hallway. If she had to guess, Kara thinks they probably lead to Martha’s bedroom. She then looked back and forth between Clark and Martha once more. Martha still looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die somewhere. Clark had an unnerving look about him. She had seen that look before when he was about to go into a rage. She can tell that he is holding back by the way he is gripping the table. Considering that it is made from nth metal (the strongest in the galaxy) and was starting to bend slightly tells her that something happened. She had a pretty good idea of what happened but didn’t want to assume.

Please let this idiot not have called me because his mother actually decided to have a love life.

She looked back and forth between them hesitantly and said, “Clark, you told me to come here because there was an emergency, but it doesn’t seem like there is one taking place. Was the emergency device activated in error or did something else happen?”

Clark stared at her coldly for a moment and said, “Since I brought you in, I didn’t expect much, but I damn well-expected loyalty.”

Kara looked back at him shocked, and said, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Clark sneered at her and said, “Don’t feign innocence with me. You know what you did, and I need you to terminate the contract you have with them right now.”

Kara looked at him surprised for a minute and then it dawned on her.

Don’t tell me this whiny bitch went to tattle on me to mommy.

Kara clenched her fist. She knew that Clark would get irritated. That was her goal, but she hated that Martha got dragged into this mess and ruined her evening. She took a deep breath to try to keep calm.

Kara forced a smile and said, “I am taking a guess you heard about my partnership with the hospital.”

Clark slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “You’re damn right! You took a job with the enemy!”

Martha looked confused between Kara and Clark and said, “I don’t understand. How is working at the hospital some type of betrayal?”

Clark turned to Martha with a disgusted look while pointing his finger directly at Kara.

“You always defended her saying that she came to Earth to do no harm and that we should trust her. But she has been working with the enemy this whole time.”

“And who exactly is the enemy?” asked Martha hesitantly.

Clark turned towards Kara and spat, “Lena Luthor.”

“Lena is a civilian who runs the local hospital for children in my area. There are no records of her doing anything nefarious or the hospital for that matter. She is not only smart but very kind-hearted,” said Kara lofty.

Clark smirked and said, “Oh, I thought that you were smart enough not to get sucked into the Luthor’s charm. They appear nice, but they are nothing but a bunch of vipers.”

Kara smirked and said, “I didn’t realize that you have a grudge against anyone last named Luthor. Doesn’t this go against the Almighty Superman’s policy about tolerance and acceptance?”

“They deserve nothing from us!” exclaimed Clark.

Kara raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you really going to let your hatred for one person spread to everyone else?”

Clark shook his head, scoffed, and said, “I knew that you would be unreasonable which is why I thought mom could talk some sense into you.”

He turned to his mom expecting some backup. However, when he looked at his mom, she stared at with with a rage in her eyes that caused his face to go pale.

“Mom, why….”

Martha held up her hand to silence him. He gulped and sat silent.

Kara had to stop herself from bursting out laughing.

Can’t believe he is such a mama’s boy.

Martha rubbed the back of her head for a moment and turned to look back at Clark with an angry glare in her eyes which caused him to back up a little.

“Let me see if I understand this. You forced me to hurry out of bed and didn’t give me a chance to put on any clothes because of some big emergency….”

“But mom…”

“Excuse me, did I say that I was finished speaking?”

Clark looked down and said, “No ma’am.”

“I thought so. You bring me out here half dress because you said that Kara was in some type of crisis and all of this is because she is working with Lena Luthor? You have known Lena all of her life. Where the hell is all of this aggression coming from?”

That last statement piqued Kara’s interest.

Kara frowned and asked, “Wait. Martha is making it sound like that not only have you known each other for a while, but you have at least been friendly towards one another in the past.”

Read the rest on AO3

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blackjackkent · 2 months

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We get a little cutscene of the city beginning to rebuild and a nice little speech from the narrator:

Narrator: It's over. And it's all because of you. You, who were destined to become a thrall. Thanks to you, there will be no Illithid Empire, no Death Gods' tyranny. You have earned your place amongst the legends of the Sword Coast. You are the saviors of Baldur's Gate.

Which is all very well, and quite as it should be, though Hector is not thrilled with his name going down in song and legend; he never really wanted stories told about him.

But all of this pales before the actual end of the game for Hector (minus the epilogue of course, which we will get to in a moment), because it is ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC ACTUALLY.

They crash through the portal out into the Hells and for a moment Hector is sure that they're too late after all; Karlach has barely been able to stand in the last few moments before they passed through, and she sinks to her knees, still wreathed in fire, as they arrive. And gods, what a terrible irony that would be, to have finally brought her back to where she would live, only to watch the flames consume her anyway.

But a minute passes, and then another, and her engine begins to settle, and he feels the fear that he has carried for so many months start to loosen its grip on his heart.

"Well, soldier..." she whispers. "Here we are."

Here we are indeed. Hector takes a moment, now that he is sure she is safe, to look around, to truly absorb what they have chosen to do.

He remembers that acrid brimstone scent all too well from that day aboard the nautiloid. The heat is tremendous; it is like standing in a sauna or within an active volcano. Sweat begins to pool at his hairline and lower back almost instantly. And in all directions is nothing but fiery wasteland broken by rivers of lava.

He has never been so happy to see such a place in all his life.

He pauses to examine his feelings for a moment. There will be no more monastery, no more days of quiet prayer and study. This is home and life now, this fiery place that smells of sulfur, because Karlach is here. And Wyll, his friend, at their sides-- truly the best of their little band; even though he and Hector were never tremendously close, Hector has admired him tremendously and is proud to choose to be brothers-in-arms with him now.

And one day, in this place, they will find Zariel, and he will exact Selune's vengeance on her for her cruelty.

It is a purpose he would never have imagined himself having before. But he is no longer the man he was when he began this journey, whose only aspiration was reverence and solitude. He has learned that to stand at the side of his friends in the service of something greater is its own kind of divine act.

And he will not have to learn to live without the woman he loves.

"It worked..." Karlach says, slowly pushing herself to her feet. The column of flame around her fades; her engine settles into its usual steady pulse. The agony fades from her eyes, replaced by a calm steadiness that he remembers from their visit to the House of Hope, the last time he saw her without that underthread of pain. "My engine's calmed down."

She turns to look at him; with the moment of intensity past, she too is seeing what they are committing to for the first time. "I shouldn't have let you come here," she says with a heavy breath out and a wry smile. "This isn't going to be easy, you know. Zariel's going to come at us with everything she's got."

He looks back at her steadily, reaches out to take her hand. Their fingers interlace - automatic, instinctive - and he presses his lips against her knuckles, his eyes not leaving hers. I know what I'm signing up for. Just as all of you have made your choices, I am making mine... he thinks. So long as you're with me...

He opens his mouth to speak, to tell her this, but they are interrupted by an unearthly scream in the distance.

A pack of imps are gathering on the horizon. Hector shoots a look at Wyll; both of them square their shoulders, ready for battle.

Karlach hisses out a laugh. "Gods. Like clockwork. They'll be on us soon - but there's just enough time."

To his surprise, she reaches into the pack at her hip and pulls out a set of small cylindrical items - cigars.

"Thought I was done with these," she says, and shoots him a playful grin.

He raises his eyebrows questioningly, a smile playing at his own lips. You didn't want to come back, he thinks. And I know why. But gods... the way you look when there's no pain pressing on you... gods, I could look at you forever...

She winks at him and tosses him one of the cigars, passes another to Wyll, lifts the third to her own lips. Hector looks at his in some puzzlement, then tucks it into his pack like a lover's keepsake.

With a snap of her fingers she flares a burst of fire up on her thumb, lights the end of the cigar. She takes a slow draw, puffs out a mouthful of smoke. "But then there was you lot," she finishes lightly.

"Imps are fast but careless," she goes on conversationally - and he sees a flash of the soldier she used to be, briefing the troops before battle. "Don't let 'em tire you out - just get rid of 'em."

She grins crookedly, flicks the still-burning cigar aside. "And don't forget -- you asked for this."

He can hear a sort of question under the words. Do you regret this choice? Do you regret coming with me, now that you see what lies ahead?

But he doesn't. And he won't. He made this choice long since, and the only surprise is that it is actually coming to fruition.

He reaches out to cup her cheek, pulls her to him, kisses her fiercely, letting his fingers curl into her hair. I'm with you, he says silently in the touch. No matter what comes. And he feels her relax into the contact, the certainty flowing between them, shared, steady.(*)

She draws back and grins, looking between him and Wyll. Hector gives her a slow nod; Wyll lifts an arm in his trademark salute, the Blade of Avernus ready to stand at her side.

She pulls the greataxe from her back with a sudden air of determination. "Better let these fuckers know I'm back," she says.

"And this time... I'm not alone."

She breaks into a run, her boots digging into the ashen ground, and Hector and Wyll spare only a moment to look at each other before darting out behind her, flanking her on both sides, ready for the battle ahead.

-----

(*) Mild artistic license. No kiss here Larian, for real? :P Also please know that this whole scene was playing out to the tune of a HEAVY METAL VERSION OF DOWN BY THE RIVER which was incredibly badass, and also Hector would have climbed Karlach like a tree right here if there weren't a band of imps coming.

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #ok so i know there are mixed feelings about this ending from a lot of people but i'll be honest #i fucking love this for her and hector and wyll #and i am holding out hope for a dlc where we get to go BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF ZARIEL PLEASE #also also i am thinking about adding another longfic to my plans about their adventures together in the hells #bc i want more of their story so much

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malicious-vampire · 3 months

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(Since Tumblr decided to make it impossible to edit an ask that's been saved as a draft, I'm forced to cite it here)

@schizocadaver asked:

"I'll place this as an ask rather than just going straight into messaging you as it feels most correct to me. I've been suspecting for a while that I might have szpd and possibly npd so I was wondering if you might be able to share on your experience of having both and what that's like"

Hello and thanks for the ask! This is a lot since these PDs affect my whole life in various aspects, so I'll try to break it down to the most obvious things, or those that I deem most important. NPD and SZPD complement one another quite well, though there are also some huge difficulties.

For a start, I take incredible pride in my solitude. I prefer spending my time alone and turn to activities I can do on my own, because I hold the core belief that most other people are beneath me and not worth my time or energy. It's also a lot easier to feel godlike and untouchable when you're not perveived by anyone other than yourself - which can also become a problem once I go outside and have to deal with the fact that I can make mistakes and that other people will take notice of that.

I'm a misanthrope and I don't trust anyone. While I do have a few close friends who I care about, I cannot spend more than a few hours at once with them or I'll get annoyed by their presence. Strangers usually disgust me, so it's hard to make any new acquaintances. I do have a perfect pokerface and though people always describe me as friendly and empathetic, I can't form any real emotional connections to anyone. It's like a thin veil or a pane of glass between me and others. Because of that, I never share much about myself. I hate intimacy, both physically and psychologically. Even my closest friends who I've known for years only know me on a surface-level, and sometimes it feels lonely to have no one who truly sees me. It's bittersweet.

On the upside, I can get along really well on my own. I don't want to be around people all the time and I have enough hobbies to keep myself busy and productive without having to rely on anyone else. On the downside, I quickly get bored. Humans require at least a little bit of socializing to function properly, so it's impossible to be truly alone and happy all the time. Therefore I occasionally get a sudden and brief craving for attention, which is difficult to get in that moment when one spends most of their time alone. Then I turn to reckless (sometimes self-harming) behavior or I start spiraling and drown in self-pity, which leads to more isolation and more depression (narc crash). I'm currently working against that by trying to establish a schedule where I get to meet my friends 0.5-1x a week to have enough outside-supply but still primarily inside-supply (e.g. making art and music, studying and turning to other solitary activities).

Part of the reason why social encounters are so exhausting for me is that I mask heavily, even around my family. I intentionally crafted my mask to fit every situation I'm in and I constantly try to adjust it by observing other people's behaviors and matching my emotional reactions (I've heard people describe my personality and it differed a lot depending on the social group, and often wasn't even close to who I actually am). So at least half of my daily energy is wasted on performance.

Additionally, my most present emotions are anger and hate. Since I think very highly of myself, I get offended easily and rarely forgive anyone. This includes myself - if I make a mistake or fail at something, it feels like my chest is about to burst from rage, and it's difficult to calm down. I've been fantasizing about torturing and murdering people on a daily basis for years, partly as an outlet for anger and partly just for fun.

I automatically hide most of my emotions to the point where I'm unable to express happiness or surprise the way neurotypicals do. In general, I rather enjoy thinking rationally and despise emotional reactions as they never really help solving a problem. I may seem cold and apathetic when unmasked, and I often get confused trying to identify my own emotions.

That's all I could think of for now. Spending a lot of time alone gave me the chance to do a great amount of self-reflection, which isn't always nice as I tend to overanalyse everything, but it helps to get a better understanding of myself and my relationship to others.

I hope this small insight helps - Let me know if something's not clear or if you have any other follow-up questions!

#ask #schizoid #szpd #npd #actually npd #schizoid personality disorder #narcissistic personality disorder

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dragonridernoobie · 14 days

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Okay, sooo, I’m bored and I have this oc named Vivienne, Viv for short, she looks near human but gives off uncanny valley vibes. She’s like this Cyptid based in France, she wears a very extravagant masquerade mask most of the time(I’ll provide examples of her at the end, I used my Roblox oc of her as an example cause I can’t draw very well, as well as Gacha club:,)) and she’s just very kind and caring but is forever cursed to live in solitude due to how people react to her.

Soooo, I was wondering how Optimus(TFP), Ratchet(TFP), and Wheeljack would react to her protecting the kids(say they follow them throw the ground bridge) from cons or something

I also how just sentences of how I think she’d react but I want a full visual, like she completely destroyed a con, finger tips over her mouth as she says ‘ My apologies Monsieur ‘ or her just doting on the kids worried they are injured saying ‘oh vous petits chéris(oh you little darlings!) are you okay? You must have been so scared’

I just wanna see how the big boys react to her

Idk😭 she’s my main oc and I love her to bits cause she’s so sweet but so brutal when someone angers her😊 oh and her appearance is kinda inspired by lady Dimitrescu from resident evil if that helps

Cool, you play roblox to? What games you play? I play dragon adventures! Anyway, I will try my best but know I will not be doing this on Sundays. So sorry for the delay!!!!!

TransformersPrimeXOC

Optimus

Optimus will meet Vivienne when he goes to France.

He will be searching for decpticon since there was activity.

He will hear somthing crashing and goes to investigate.

That's where he finds Vivienne standing over a now dead con.

She has a hand fan, fanning her self.

He hears her say "my apologies monsieur"

He will be surprised and come to talk to her.

He will bring them to the base. (As much as ratchet hates that)

He will see quickly how portecrive he is of the kids.

(She is also his favorite since she is the most mature)

He would become Vivienne's guardian.

While being with Vivienne, he will see how people react to her.

He felt bad and asked

She explains, he feels worse.

He will try to include Vivienne in everything to make her happy.

Ratchet

Ratchet will meet Vivienne when optimus brings them to base.

While he complains, the kids will be interested of Vivienne.

He will be assigned as Vivienne's guardian.

He will pay Vivienne no mind but he will notice how she watches him from behind her fan.

I think he will finally see how powerful she is when she rescues him.

They where attacked while heading to base.

She will kick the decpticons ass.

He will hear her say "quelle chose pathétique" (what a pathetic thing)

He will have respect for Vivienne and actally starts to be nice.

(Meaning he will stop ignoring her)

He will let Vivienne sit on his shoulder while he works.

Wheeljack

Wheeljack would have met Vivienne when the autobots head to the decpticon warship to rescue him

While he is chained up, he hears somone shouting and blasting.

He will be surprised by a human walking in.

Vivienne will interduce herself (very politely)

"my apologies for the delay ami" (friend)

Vivienne will get wheeljack free and they meet up with the team.

He will be vivienne's new guardian and friend.

He will not be real quickly that Vivienne will be ignored and ask her about it.

Once he figures out why, he will think that would be awsome

Wreckers 🙄

#headcanon #transformers tfp #tfp optimus prime #tfp wheeljack #tfp ratchet #autobots #oc #oc x canon #transformers

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sekai-archives · 2 years

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hey li! May I request some Rui and Toya angst where mc breaks up w them? you don't have to do this btw!!

A Breakup

Features: Kamishiro Rui, Aoyagi Toya

- ♡ warnings: this is angst. Crying. Let me know if I missed any

- ♡ notes: a bit ooc. Got carried away with this. I'm not the best of angst but I gave it my best shot, thans for the pain anon ♡ poorly proofread

Rui Kamishiro

Rui felt like he had a good understanding of emotions, he knew when he was happy or when he was discontent with himself. Though one feeling, he struggle to comprehend was belonging to something. Must of days whilst his classmates played together and gossip during the hours of lunch, he was found at the rooftops with only the air to greet him.

He felt like an outsider to the world, that one lonesome child in the corner, too afraid to mutter a word to his peers. He wasn't necessarily upset by this either, he had grown to be accustomed to being alone, becoming desensitized in the solitude

That was until he met you.

You greeted him with nothing but endless kindness, little words of affirmation kissing the lobes of his ears. Even when he felt like an outsider to the world, your benevolence met no ends, boundless as you held him in your arms, brushing away his troubles

And that is why in that very moment, Rui felt his hopes and emotions crush like powder as those simple quick words left your lips in a firm sentence.

" We should break up"

That was joke, right-? Yet there was no hesitation in your voice. Not a quiver nor stutter to indicate otherwise. Your eyes were also void of that glimmer you use to stare at him as well, glinting like stars that would greet him each and every day. Instead, it was monotone, vacant of the care that use to love him. Cold. And hurting as well.

In the shock of the moment, he was rendered silence, his head racing at a dangerous speed, hazardous to a crash. But as he reached back to his senses of rationality, all he could do was fake a smile. "I understand." Perhaps you both would talk it out but ultimately you remained the same about your choice.

Why? That was word that had lodged itself in his thoart yet he had no energy to mutter it out even as a meek whisper.

He tried to pry the lingering eyes off him. Nene and others would ask if he was fine. The question always brought a sharp pain, a pierce to his chest, eyes etching with tears that he swiflty blinks away. The lie forming of his on his lips, "I'm fine" That couldn't be further from the truth and his actions proved otherwise

He quite literally locked himself in his room, his head buried in a cluster of blueprints and spare parts with the sole excuse that he had work to do for upcoming shows. But a quick chat with Tsukasa disproved that very quickly. Really, Rui was looking for any way to avoid crashing paths with you again. To see you be so happy without him whilst he's still struggling to let go

Rui tried to tell himself that he shouldn't be sad that this was expected. Afterall, who would want to be with the outcast? He'll get over it in couple of days, he reckons.

Yet as Rui sat on the rooftops, the spot beside him vacant of your presence, your smile and every part of you, he couldn't help but choke out a sob( his classmates noticed how his cheeks looked a tad puffy yet they silently collectively agreed to leave the pruple haired boy alone). Fingers going numb that use to hold onto yours, grounding him back to reality as soothing words leave you. It felt so wrong not feeling you beside him. But all he was met was with the silence as the wind blew blew over his ears.

His eyes lingered on the view in the distance. He could still hear your voice, giggling as you crack one of those corny jokes that still made his stomach hurt from laughing. You always found the view to be beautiful, a series of colors stringing together to make a scene both you and Rui could share. But now you probably in the cafeteria, laughing with your friends as they gossip of today's news.

And over time he would reach those days when the hurt washed away and he held a genuine smile to his face. Perhaps the both of you can remain friends, not allowing the previous bond to affect you now.

But even still, whenever he goes to the rooftops, he still can't help but squint at the distance, searching for something that no longer existed.

The view never looked quite the same.

Toya Aoyagi

Toya wasn't quite sure what to expect when you both started dating. The idea was new and forgien to his inexperienced hands. But he nonetheless made a silent promise to act the role as your partner to the best of his ability

It was bumpy process, he would admit. He knew he had a rather cold exterior, a concrete wall protecting his vulnerabilities from the world's harsh cruelties. Yet he could not deny that you somehow found a way to chip away at those walls.

You were so kind to him, someone who gave him the reassurance he needed when emotions hit harder than bricks. You provided an escape from his family, one where he didn't need to have his gaurd up.

And overtime you learned, there was more than his rather stoic nature. That deep down all his flaws and imperfections, Toya was a good friend. And a good partner.

Though what brought you to this situation? Only you knew.

" Hey Toya, I think it'd be better if we go our separate ways."

He already could tell something was wrong before you spoke those words. You were more quiet than usual, fingers fidgeting over your sleeves. Silence was shrouding the pair of you- it was like he wasn't even there.

And Toya made the mistake of asking. The very act that led him to this predicament.

Toya was never one to react through ranges of expressions, but this didn't stop his shoulders from going slack, his eyes widening in disbelief- jaw slightly apage, astonished and confused at the same time.

Like Rui, the pair of you would talk it out, being a peaceful closure to your relationshipm But he nonetheless respected your wishes, surely you had good reasons to end things. "If that's how you see it, then I will respect that"

Normally, Toya didn't allow his mind to ponder on topics for too long. It was quite simple for him to shrug off quarries, leaving without a second thought. But this? Admittedly lingered in his mind for much longer than he wished. Was he too tense? Perhaps too emotionless, it gave the impression he didn't care? It didn't matter now. The only person who held the answers was you and you were long gone

He was quite well at hiding his pain compared to Rui. Doesnt even mumble a peep to Akito other than a few blunt words. His expressions remain the same as well, not a note of hurt other than his droppy eyes- struggling to recieve sleep in the aftermath of the breakup. Though people can notice how he starred off into the distance, or how his eyes lingered on spots you use to sit at.

His pile of arcade prizes increased in number as well- subconsciously collecting awards he had normally gifted to you. It hadn't even occurred to him that he still acted upon among old habits. Even though the prizes took up space in his room, it served to epitomize on the lonely cold presence thst he truly was standing in.

And at the dead of nights, void of anyone's prying eyes or judgeful thoughts; his face goes red with faint droplets wetting his cheeks as he makes the mistake of reminiscing for just a second. His knuckles goes pale as his clutch around the pillow fails to cease, his tears leaving marks on the fabrics.

He knew he was waiting for something that was far out of reach. And the realization always caused his body to run numb, a wave of needles to pin against the surface of his heart. It was also then upon that moment, he truly recognized how strong you made him feel and now rendered to a peice of broken shards stitched together with tape only visible in solitude

However, Toya does learn to move on with the mercy of time. A little faster than others.

And when he does pass you by the hallway, he greets you with a mere wave, void of any hurt in his stature.

#project sekai x reader #project sekai imagines #projsekai x reader #tsukasa tenma x reader #rui kamishiro x reader #akito shinonome x reader #toya aoyagi x reader #tsukasa tenma headcanons #rui kamishiro headcanons #akito shinonome headcanons #toya aoyagi headcanons #tsukasa tenma #rui kamishiro #akito shinonome #toya aoyagi #projsekai imagines #projsekai #project sekai

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roxineedstosleep · 2 years

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Can you make a soulmate au one shot with yandere Peter Parker where the reader is not his soulmate.

So, I'm sorry for the delay, but I loved the idea, although I had to put together a good structure… and find an English translator.

I hope you enjoy it a lot.

(Also, I can of bit make it a bit little to much large: TW to much text!!)

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Soul mates were wonderful but complex things.

Nobody knew how people began to connect with others in a magical and powerful way. But they didn't question it either.

Why do it if you were predestined to someone who would allow you to find happiness? Full development?

The person who would encourage you to be 100% happy and vice versa, the one who would adore you and you that other person.

Everyone had a soul mate, connected in some way to their other half.

It could be on the way to a tattoo, a phrase, name, songs or "Magic Clicks"

Always personalized, even if the method was similar to other people.

There could be different methods, millions and millions of ways to be able to say that one had a soul waiting for one. But regardless of the method or means of recognition, it was ALWAYS the same within the couple.

For example: If person A had a soul mate mark on his arm, and this mark was a drawing or a phrase, his soul mate B would also have the same mark shape. If X listened to the same song, Y would have the same song and they would both tune into a beautiful melody together when they met.

They all knew about it.

Peter knew he had a soulmate out there. Waiting patiently for him.

When he was younger, he used to marvel at how Aunt May and Uncle Ben used to sing the most beautiful melody in the world in unison. And sometimes, he looked hopefully at the drawing on his arm, thinking that his soul mate was seeing his own mark and thinking of him in some way.

Somewhere, waiting for him.

He always saw couples on the street, with matching brands, unison songs, discovering colors together. Always together, always in tune, always loving each other. But he also saw uneven pairs.

Unfair and selfish people. If you asked him.

Couples in which one had someone else's name on their arm, while the other sang a beautiful solo song; couples in which one saw in gray, and the other had his arms full of rainbow drawings.

At first he did not understand. He guessed that he was still too young to understand.

He did not understand why others would not look for their other half, Why they would stay with another person who did not fully understand his soul and his way of thinking? What happened to his other half? Would he be waiting for them forever in solitude? Had they gone to heaven and that's why they couldn't be together? What if the other half was sad that they couldn't find them?

There were so many doubts and so many unknowns that he simply avoided thinking about the odd couples.

In his fantasy, Peter believed that he would see another person with the same drawing on his arm. They would meet, fall in love, and start simultaneously living alongside each other for the rest of their lives.

Until he met you.

It was by chance, if he was honest.

He was wandering around the city, looking for a good place to keep watch after a long day at school; when you crashed into him after a bunch of kids had to swerve their bikes to avoid crashing into you.

They greeted each other, and as if Peter didn't have a mark on his arm, he felt a click in his mind at the sight of your grateful eyes. Beautiful eyes covered with thick dark glasses; that even half covered could dazzle more than one person with the beauty of these.

After that not much happened. Or at least, nothing really scandalous.

They started to talk.

They chatted a bit while they both went to the train station to return to their respective houses.

They talked about the city, its weather, their neighbors' pets, street gangs, pigeons, statues, popular songs, their favorite foods, their favorite classes, their clumsiness and your families.

When he saw that you had to get off at the next stop, surprisingly for him, he took all the nerves out of his excited heart and asked for your phone.

"It's just... you're great, I- I wanted to know if we could keep talking" he told you, when you were finishing packing your bag.

"Oh sure!" you replied, completely excited by the idea of having a new friend "Give me your phone, to have you added"

And after a few mistypes, You managed to save his number to your phone and vice versa.

And then everything was wonderful.

Do you ever remember that feeling of a beautiful day? You know, when you wake up on the right side of the bed, breakfast tastes delicious, there's no traffic, and you're in time for that awful test, where everything you've read about just so happens to be.

Yes.

That's how Peter felt when he managed to chat with you. No texts, no audio, only long drawn out phone calls or video chats.

They both went to different schools, but within nearby school districts. So they had started using the same train route to get back home.

You always waited for him, on the same corner, with the same thick dark glasses and you always hung on him when you walked.

And he loved that you hung on him like a lifeline.

He loved how you asked him for a little help choosing the right subway card or reading the distant signs.

He loved it when you grabbed his arm and didn't let go until he reached your whereabouts.

When you called him at night and they stayed late.

Chatting with you had been the best part of the day for Peter.

They were always laughing, always joking or crying (because of some cute video of a baby kitten)

Always supporting each other, always helping each other in the sad moments, in the moments of difficulty, in the moments in which each one felt that they couldn't take it anymore.

Being there for each other, being like a constant of happiness within sadness.

Be the happiness and joy of the other.

And the more you got to know each other, the more Peter began to consider that there would come a time when you and he would have to formalize things more.

Show each other your identical marks and more appropriately come out as soul mates to the rest of the world. Being able to say that you were his, how he belonged to you.

Being able to get all those emotions full of love and passion for you without having to receive uncomfortable questions. To be able to love you with every cell in his body and show you all the things he was capable of doing for both of them.

Then one day, when they were both eating Aunt May's cookies and watching a movie, Peter decided to ask the biggest question.

I was so excited to see your soulmate mark.

“You know, my soul mark is a drawing” he mentioned, as casually as he could he showed you the intricate drawing on his arm; but he didn't notice how you felt a little bit the surface of the drawing with your fingers, almost drawing it “What about yours? Can I see yours?

"A drawing? She must be a cutie Peter” you said, without stopping eating the biggest cookie that Aunt May had left on the plate “But I'm afraid I don't have such a beautiful drawing”

"Your drawing should be- Don't you have a drawing?" he asked, his heart beginning to pound heavily, and his lungs drained of air. "How so?"

"Yes well, I don't have a drawing, my parents have one, but my soul mark is different" you said calmly "I'm afraid my soul mark is a bit more physical"

Physical? Aren't the drawings?

"It's not very common for marks to take on the vitality of a sense, but that was my case" you continued, as you took off your thick glasses and rubbed your eyes a little "Legally I'm blind, I barely see more far from 1 meter ratio, since the doctors discovered that my soulmate distintion is to be able to see in all my capacity when I find my soulmate”

And Peter saw Red, Blue, Black and Yellow.

Peter saw tears fall from his own eyes and from his soul.

Peter felt his drawing burn painfully on his arm. Mocking him.

But the worst of all, or the best (he doesn't know yet), was that you couldn't see him destroying himself in front of you.

Because you couldn’t.

Was that his karma?

When he was young, he always complained about couples who were with others who were not their soulmates, who did not desperately seek their other half to be together all their lives.

Was that the price to pay for not being more flexible?

His punishment for being so prejudiced and closed was to love someone who wasn't his half?

But how was that possible?

It’s because he sin with those closed mind thoughts?

How was it possible that I couldn't love you if you were so perfect?

How could I not adore you when it seemed like you always had the answer on the tip of your tongue when he was confused?

How not to want you when you managed to get smiles and laughter out of them?

How not to love you when you were the reason, the only one, why he still had faith in others?

How not to consider yourself his half when you seemed to be designed specifically for that?

When their souls seemed to dance together and connect deeply to unimaginable limits?

And you came, in a machine gun way, to tell him that they were not designed to be together.

"Wow, it must suck not to be able to see" he managed to say "Does it bother you?"

“Can't see? At first, yes, but you get used to it over time” he heard you say, now the only thing he could hear besides your voice were the sounds of cookie bites and the background movie “The good thing is that, being a mark of such a strange soul is pretty strange, this and anyone who generates a disability must be registered… in the city there must be at least 6 cases similar to mine… in the country there must be a total of 40. All of them registered for matchmaking”

"Oh," he said, "so, it's-"

“I'll be able to see after my birthday anyway” you cut him off “Two other doctors have registered three marks very similar to mine and we will have a meeting with the individuals to see if we are soul mates or not. Since blindness is a fairly heavy inconvenience and affects us all. All the cases that are similar to mine just want to be able to see, after all"

After that he didn't listen anymore.

He do not speak more.

He thought of no more.

When the movie finished you had received a call from your mother and you had to leave in order to get home on time.

Apparently, it had something to do with a possible Match within the city and they wanted to coordinate the meeting.

How dare they?

How did they have the gall?

How could they even do this to you?

How could they even think that you could be with another person when you were already with him?

Was it because of his blindness? He could help you with things.

Was it because you didn't have a drawing? You probably couldn't find it yet; it must have been hidden somewhere.

Why should they break their happiness?

It was his Karma; he had already discovered it.

It was her punishment for thinking soulmates were destined just because of a stupid identical drawing or mark.

It was his cross, because now that he had found you, you would be completely separated from his side.

It was his sin, having believed himself more intelligent and he sees it for being so stupid for that reason that souls meet by a fucking identical mark.

And now… what would he do?

He couldn't sit idly by.

I couldn't see you smiling at someone other than him.

I'd rather drink bug spray than have to see you in someone else's arms. He would rather lose his powers, take off an arm, throw himself into the void than have to lose you that way.

What if you really fell in love? I would be alone.

And he couldn't live without you anymore.

So, he made the decision to be selfish and fight for both of them. Fight for the love he felt for you, for the future you both deserved.

He didn't care if you couldn't see, he would be your eyes.

It didn't matter if you couldn't walk straight, he would be your cane.

It didn't matter if you needed to read the signs, he would be your interpreter.

He would be the light of your path, he would be your firm hands in moments of doubt, he would be your support in the heaviness of the crisis, he would be your smile, your voice in moments of protest, he would be your comfort in times of pain.

If you needed a voice of comfort, he would be a choir of love.

If you needed a helping hand, he would be a pair of arms ready to work.

If you needed a caress, he would adore you with all his being.

Because it didn't matter that their markings were different…they were destined for each other.

Because now Peter was meant for you and you were meant for him.

Every fiber, every hair, every cell, every neuron, every muscle, every ligament, every spider web… Everything. Everything inside of him was designed to adore you, love you, support you, care for you and desire you.

So, if the first thing you could see with, after that stupid meeting, was him… no problem.

He understands that you were a little scared. He doesn't blame you.

How could he?

If the first thing you could see of him, with your now healthy eyes, was that he was completely covered in blood.

Drenched in blood, and at his feet, was that despicable rat who had had the audacity to approach you with the idea of stealing you from his side.

You would obviously be scared. He do not blame you.

It was a scary scenario, isn’t it?

But it didn't matter right now. Why would he?

If you were scared, he would be your comfort.

If you were crying, he would be your handkerchief.

If you wanted to break down, he would be your support.

There was nothing to worry about now that you could see him and get a chance to see the future he had planned for both of them.

#tw yandere #yandere peter parker x reader #yandere peter parker #yandere and reader #yandere #yandere mcu #yandere spiderman #yandere spiderman x reader #yandere marvel #peter parker x reader

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kywritess · 10 months

Text

Bleeding Red

Chapter 1. A deal with the devil

K.Bakugo x Vigilante reader

warning. vigilante!reader, angst, violence, prohero!Bakugo, aged up (early 20's)

W/C. 3k +

A/N. Ahh, I'm actually so nervous to post this first chapter, I swear first chapters are always the hardest to write, trying to set up the entire storyline. There are a lot of details left out on purpose, but I promise the next chapters will start to clear a bunch of stuff up! Again I love criticism and I truly do want honest opinions, it always helps. I included the introduction chapter, if you haven't read that yet I recommend you read it first! Happy reading and let me know what you think. :)

Introduction Chapter

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December 15th

The city of Musutafu was silent, the howling sound of the storm easing my tension, and the cool breeze hitting my cheeks. As snow descended onto parked vehicles, casing trees in white powder, the ice began to cover my tracks.

Then the ringing from my earpiece going off, disrupting my solitude, “Nova, do we have an eye on the target.”

Fixing my footing on top of the slick building, I overlooked my surroundings. Tonight, every billboard and digital screen lit up the streets with the face of a fallen pro hero, Solidity. A face that ushered hope into civilian’s hearts. The city was quiet, in mourning.

Reaching for my earpiece, “Negative, no movement from up here.” The ringing sound, again making me roll my eyes, “Nova, this must be done before midnight. Get your head in the game, or- “. Tearing the earpiece out, I walk away, feeling it crush beneath my foot, “Prick”.

Lingering on top of the structure, I took a deep breath. The cold air filling my lungs, sending a shock to my system. The wind began to pick up, bringing a vibration through the building.

Ultimately deciding to make my way to the stair well before the building came down with me on top, I began my decline. The stairway was tight, not helping my increasing buildup of anxiety. I was beginning to feel closter phobic, every move I have made, every decision has felt consequently wrong tonight.

The hall lights began to flicker from the storm, not helping the eerie feeling in my stomach. A loud crash knocked me out of my internal panic, looking up I realized I had reached the fourth floor. The floor number I was given earlier to take out my target.

As I open the door to the stair well, another crash came towards the end of the hall. Treading towards the noise, the lights began to go out one by one, eventually going out completely. At this point I was debating on turning around and just giving up. I know I’m an adult, but I’ve feared the dark since I was a child.

“Don’t be a pussy Y/N.”

Following the noise, I walked along the wall guiding myself towards the sound. Using my hands to feel, I found myself Infront of a wooden door. Inside, a man could be heard screaming, and the faintest noise of what sounded like a sob. I found my rage began to grow quicker than I could stop it. My gloved hands grabbed the handle, fortunately finding it unlocked.

Opening the door, there was little light coming from the room, a candle flickering near the stove. Gazing the small space, I found a little girl hiding near the side of the sofa. Her glazed over eyes noticed me. Before she could make a fuss, I put my index finger up towards my mouth.

“Shhh.” I try to Inform her to stay quiet, I’m not moving until she understands. Eventually I could make out the smallest form of a nod.

Registering that the clatter was coming from the bedroom, where no words could be heard only sounds of distress, I make me way around the corner. The bedroom door was open, in direct view of the young girl’s sight. Taking silent steps, I grabbed the blade resting on my thigh. Reaching the door I looked back at the young girl while slowly closing off her view.

Obtaining my thoughts, finally in the closed room, I turn around watching as coincidentally my target was choking out, what looked to be his wife.

The woman, beginning to slip out of consciousness noticed me before the man could. He watched as her eyes travelled to the left. Sooner than he could turn his head, my blade ran deep across his throat, killing him instantly. His body falling to the floor, and her’s sliding down the wall.

Taking in the sight in front of her, she began to hyperventilate “Oh, oh god.” She was in shock; most people are when they watch someone get killed. Leaning down towards her level, I tried to calm her. “You guys are safe now.” Grabbing a rag from my side, I handed it to her. “Wipe the blood off your face, then you and your daughter get out of here.” Her shaky hand reached for the rag as her other hand reached for mine, helping her up, she looked at me with tears in her eyes. A few seconds later and not a word spoken, she ran out the bedroom door.

Looking down at the man’s body, his eyes were looking back at me. The man I had just killed was the leader of a Mafia group, a money laundering, apparent wife beater piece of shit. I know I should feel bad, but I knew what I was getting into when I first started this, and I know I look like a villain, most people look at me like I am, but I don’t just kill anyone. I only kill those who hurt others.

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Making my way out of the building, I double checked the sidewalks before stepping out of the entrance door. Glancing to my left, a black SUV sat under a dimmed light post, illuminating the snow on top of it. Taking a deep breath, I made my way towards the vehicle while ripping the tight gloves off my hands.

As my sight was distracted, looking at the footprints left in the snow, the click of the locks could be heard as I approached the vehicle. Reaching the passenger side door, I slid in looking towards the man in the driver seat. “It’s done.”

Pulling the mask off my head, I had expected him to respond, or at least make a comment on the earpiece.

Setting the mask in my lap, I once again brought my attention to him. Observing the driver, he looked frightened, both his hands where gripped to the steering wheel, his expression was wide eyed, and I swear if you looked close enough, he was sweating.

“Yuji, drive the car.” No vocal response, but at least he granted me with some movement. I watched as he gripped the rearview mirror, positioning it in a way I couldn’t see. For some reason his behavior gave me the chills, I could feel the goosebumps raise under the sleeves of my suit.

As we pulled out onto the main road, I never took my eyes of Yuji, I could see he was shaking; his left leg was bouncing against the car floor with anxiety. “What’s wrong?”

Not expecting a response, I turned my head towards the passenger side window. Looking up towards the sky, the build boards once again caught my attention. Pro hero Solidity’s face staring back at me. The way his eyes looked so stone cold, like he had known what I just had done.

Solidity was killed last night, the city didn’t see it coming, and neither had I. Solidity, also known as Ren Kiyoshi, was a face I haven’t seen in seven years.

Ren Kiyoshi, my father was a good man. Sort of. He is good when I compare him to myself. My father and I are more alike than I’d care to admit. However when I feel pure rage, I know I am my fathers daughter.

Looking out the window my view of the streets began to move faster, Yuji was speeding up. The car began to slide due to the icy roads. Grabbing onto the handle, I prepared myself for an upcoming impact. Was he trying to kill us? “Slow down, the streets are ice right now.” Listening to my command, he slammed on the breaks, unfortunately sending us into a skid, almost hitting a cement wall. “Holy fuck jackass, are you trying to get us killed?”

Looking at him, he finally made eye contact with me, and after a few breathes, he spoke “I’m sorry Nova.”

“Sorr- “. The realization hit me, and my face turned sour. His earlier movements made sense now, the moving of the rear view mirror. Turning my head towards the back seat, a man sat with his arms crossed, staring back at me.

Before I had the chance to react, the sound of a car franticly honking hindered my thoughts.

Fuck we were still in the middle of the road.

Bracing for the impact, the car was sent rolling. I watched as Yuji was sent flying through the windshield. I luckily had my seatbelt on, only getting hit straight in the face with the airbag.

The car eventually came to a stop. My vision was blurry, more than likely concussed. The SUV had flipped upside down, and fortunately breaking the glass from my window.

Unbuckling my seat belt, I tried to climb out of the window, crawling on shards of glass “Fuck.” Making it half way out, the ringing in my ears began to increase. I could feel myself slipping in and out of consciousness.

Laying my body onto the floor, I flipped myself onto my back, watching as the snow fell, small snowflakes landing in my hair. The last thing my brain could process before my vision went dark was flashing headlights and teal blue eyes.

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The static from a T.V. could be heard in the background and I could barely make out the shape of a flowerpot to my left, but I’d remember that water colored design from anywhere. I was in my apartment. Not being able to open my right eye, I touched my face. Looking down at my hand, crimson covering the fingertips.

A deep voice spoke across the room, “Nice to see you again Y/N.” Looking at the man, I felt rage run through my body. Laughing at the man standing in front of me, I could taste the iron running down into my mouth. “Go to hell Endeavor.” Trying to move I quickly realized my hands were tied to the back of my kitchen chair. “Holding me hostage in my own apartment, did your quirk finally fry your brain?”

Sighing, the man pulled up a chair and sat in front of me, “You know, it’s not safe to leave the car door’s unlocked.” Glaring at him I didn’t speak, only let him continue. “My condolences about your father- “

Cutting him off I was quick to reply, “Don’t speak about my father, we both know you hated him.”

Apparently, he was quicker, “Yet you’re the one who got him killed?”.

“Fuck you.” Spitting at him, I could tell he was getting pissed off. Looking behind me he spoke to someone across the living room. “Make sure she doesn’t try anything funny.” Tilting my head up, a man with cold eyes looked down on me. Bringing my head back down, I smirked, “Needed him to get to me, couldn’t do it yourself?”

Endeavor glared at me. Keeping eye contact with him, I wasn’t going to look away first. “Why are you here Endeavor?”

Continuing the staring contest, he kept silent, “I’m over your games, you’ve had eyes on me like a hawk for months. You finally got me where you want, so say something.”

I was furious. For the past several months Endeavor has been trying to track me down. It all started when a fight broke out Infront of the Endeavor agency. The League of Villains had planned an attack on Endeavor that day and luckily for me, I had happened to be in the area at the time and had some unfinished business with Dabi. Wanting to finally get my revenge, I found myself in the middle of the fight, apparently fighting with the heroes. Just as Endeavor was about to land the final blow, I may have purposely jumped in and took care of it myself. The media went wild with this story, titled something along the lines of “Masked Vigilante Nova, Stealing Endeavors spotlight?” While I found it very amusing, some others found it humiliating and degrading. Others being Endeavor.

“You’re just mad a woman beat you at your own game, is that what it is?” Scoffing he grabbed the bottom of my chair and pulled it closer, “Don’t compare yourself to a woman, you are nothing more than a floozy.”

Smiling at the man, “Ouch, did it take you awhile to come up with that.”

Endeavor has known my real identity since the Dabi incident, unknowingly to me, he spent weeks doing his own research. Not sure how he found out completely yet, I knew for sure when I found him across the streets of a grocery store, I had dropped one of my bags and he ran over to help. He didn’t say a word but the look he gave me was enough to tell that he knew.

Finally fed up with the back and forth, he backed away and pushed up his glasses. Reaching behind him on the floor, he picked up a vanilla file folder that read “Confidential”

His behavior completely taking a 360, “Let’s get started, shall we?” Opening the folder, I was met with a photo of myself and a stack of paper that could only be a mile long. “Name: Y/N Kiyoshi, quirk: Immortal and Stealth. It says here you were pronounced dead seven years ago, yet you’re sitting in front of me?", his expression was nothing but serious.

Glaring at him he continued, “You know, you can always hide, but your past, it doesn’t go away Y/N. You were eventually going to be found, whether it was me or the poor bastard who dug his career into the ground looking for someone whose moral code is to kill and punish.”

“I don’t kill for shits and giggles; I kill people who hurt others. You guys lock them up and think justice has been served. You can think whatever you want about me, but I don’t ever regret becoming who I am, the hero society is a flaw. All you guys’ care about are fame and fortune, not the victims or their families. When I ran away seven years ago, I wanted everyone to think I was dead, I didn’t ask anyone to continue looking for me, not you or my father.” The more frustrated I got, the more iron I began to taste.

“Careful now, you don’t want to make that broken nose of yours worse.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a Handkerchief, pulling it up to my face he smeared the blood across my cheek. “You know, my original plan was to lock you up. Get rid of Nova, once and for all. However, I did some thinking and I believe I have a proposition for you. Listen to me before you decide to intervene.” Pulling his arm away, he threw the handkerchief onto the ground.

Leaning my head back and sighing, “Please, let’s hear it?”

With all serious, he continued “I need someone dead.”

Fuck

“I told you, I don’t just kill anyone. I’m done listening.” Pulling at my restraints he grabbed my face.

“And I told you to listen.” Snarling, he let go of my face throwing it back. Turning his head, he tried to calm himself, “As I was saying, I need you to help me get rid of someone. A hero to be precise.”

Looking at him, I froze. Out of everyone in the world why would he chose me to kill a hero. “Are you an idiot. A hero? I went to school with all the fucking heroes in the area. This must be the dumbest thing you’ve said since you’ve got here.”

“Mhm, that’s why your perfect for the job. You know what it’s like to train as a hero, to be a hero. You’ll fit right in.” His smile was evil.

“They’ll know me.” I’m not sure if it was still the shock in my system from the accident or the fact I was met with an invitation to reunite with my old classmates, but I was starting to feel dizzy. When I ran away it was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I would never hurt them, I still love them deep down.

Getting out of his chair, he walked towards me, “It’s been seven years, they’ve probably forgotten you by now, besides nothing a little makeover can’t fix.” Trying to run his hand through a piece of my hair, I growled “I’m not doing this; I’d never draw a drop of blood from their hands. I’m not a monster.”

Smiling at me he continued, ignoring my remark, “You remember my son, Shoto Todoroki? I plan on giving him the agency if he wants it. He’s high in the rankings, could possibly be number one. Only issue, there’s a hero in the way, I need him gone. So that’s where you come in. I’m hoping you agree to this, I wouldn’t want us to have an issue.”

Tilting my head, I stared at him. When I was younger Shoto and I where close, I knew everything about the Todoroki family, things most people don’t. I knew Endeavor was corrupt, but I didn’t know just how sinister he could be. “You are a wicked human; I don’t ever regret leaving U.A. when I was sixteen, I don’t regret killing the people I did. But you, you are so disgusting, you want to take someone’s life for your sons’ success. You are the fucking reason the hero society is so corrupt.”

Sitting back into his chair, he made a forward hand motion to the guy behind me, “I really wish you would’ve just agreed Y/N.” The creak from my bedroom door could be heard as two other men strolled out. Both seamlessly dressed exactly the same head to toe.

“Where did you find these minions, I knew you were a pussy, but I didn’t- “, before I could finish, the restraints were yanked off my wrists and I was thrown off my chair rolling into the kitchen. Getting up, I knew this was my chance to leave.

All three men, positioned in a fighting stance, blocked my exit. “Alright big boys, let’s see what you got.”

Running towards the first man, I slid under him, taking my arm, and wrapping it around his knee. I took him to the ground first, his head hitting the side of my countertop.

Meanwhile Endeavor began talking, “If you don’t agree to this, I will personally make your life a living hell...”

“Fuck off.”

Turning my head to the side, I grabbed my restraints. Just in time, one of the men ran by me, missing me by an inch. Grabbing the back of his collar, I pulled him close, jumping up onto his back. I then wrap my legs around his waist, while I wrap the restraint around his neck. “You were saying Endeavor.”

“I will reveal you to the entire world, your identity, your past, who you have become. Everyone will be after you. You will be tracked down for the rest of your life... Behind you.”

Fuck I forgot about the third one

Catching me off guard, for the second time tonight. I was yanked off the guys back and went into a tumble on top of the other. Throwing a punch, I rolled forward, locking my legs around his neck. “I’ll never agree to this Endeavor, give up.”

Looking into the kitchen the first guy was still knocked out, the second barely conscious but still breathing. Distracted, I felt a sharp pain in my right thigh. Looking down a knife stook out of it, initialed “E.T.”

Endeavor Todoroki

“So, that’s how where playing?” Reaching to the nearest object, I grabbed the flower vase on my counter and smashed it over his head. Instead of him knocking out cold, he grabbed the back of my head, smashing his into mine.

Dropping to the floor, blood seeped into the cracks of the tile. Before I had time to react, I was getting yanked up by my hair. Breathing heavy I looked at Endeavor, blood oozing into my mouth, “Kill me bitch.”

Trudging over, he kneeled in front of me “I thought about it, but what good would that bring any of us, plus it’s unfortunately impossible” Pulling something out of his pocket he unraveled a photo, “Maybe this will help you agree?”

Staring at the photo, my heart dropped into my stomach. A photo of my mother and little sister, “If you touch them Endeavor, I swear on my grave. I will kill you.”

Grinning from ear to ear, he responds. “All you have to do is agree.”

Looking at the cracks in the tile I felt mortified, closing my eyes, and taking a breath, I was out of options. “Fine.”

Tossing me to the side, the man let me go. I couldn’t focus on anything, I used to think I made peace with myself and everything I’ve done. Now as I sit here in front of the Number 1 hero, I wonder just how bad I messed everything up. I’ve been trying to go home my entire life, even when I was home. There was never a spot for me in this world, and now I’ve been hit with one of the hardest things I may ever have to do. I just pray it’s not someone I know.

“I’m glad you have finally come to your senses Y/N.” Looking at the displeasing sight in front of me I flinched hearing his next words.

“Tell me, how well do you know Katsuki Bakugo?”

#bakugou x reader #my hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugou imagines #bakugou scenarios #bnha #bakugo #bakugo x you #bakugo fic #bnha bakugou #bakugo x y/n

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purplefangirl42 · 6 months

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Clonetober- Day 16

Prompt: “I don’t know what that thing is, but I wouldn’t qualify it as a little guy.”/cryptids/Tremors AU

Prompt list by @ladysongmaster Divider by djarrex

Crosshair grumbled to himself as he leaned back against the trunk of the tree he sat in. This had been the closest thing to a good look out spot he had been able to find, and it was still terrible. There were too many vines in his way and the branch he currently occupied was not entirely steady.

“If you’re gonna whine, turn off your comm,” Hunter’s voice said in his ear. “None of us are happy about this situation. Get over it.”

“I don’t see what good I’m doing over here,” Crosshair replied. “I could have just stayed on the ship.”

“Just keep a lookout for anything suspicious. Or take a nap. I don’t care.”

The transmission cut off and Crosshair was left to his silent, annoying solitude once again. Well, not exactly quiet. There were lots of noises around him, the creatures of the jungle all having their say. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his head back with a sigh.

Just as he started to doze off, there was a loud boom nearby. Crosshair was startled out of his sleepy state by an entire flock of birds taking off from the trees around him. He stood up carefully and flipped his magnifier down to get a better look at the area around him. A plume of smoke drifted up from a patch of trees a few klicks east of him, Wrecker’s handiwork he guessed.

“Cross, be careful!” came his brother’s voice in his ear. “The explosion scared some animals and they’re heading your way!”

There was a loud rumbling beneath him and when Crosshair looked down, he noticed the animals Wrecker had been talking about. An entire heard of…somethings…was barreling past the tree he was in, causing the whole thing to shake. His already unsteady footing on the branch failed him and Crosshair found himself falling.

Luckily for him, he didn’t have far to fall. Unluckily for him, he got caught in the thick grove of vines hanging from the tree. Crosshair was left hanging upside down, tangled up in the vines in a twisted and uncomfortable manner. He swore loudly as he tried to shift himself in various directions to get free, none of which met with success.

Crosshair gave up on his attempts to free himself and hung silently in his green prison, contemplating his next move. He couldn’t reach his helmet to push the button to activate his comm to call his brothers for help. Not that he wanted their help, as he knew they would mock him to no end about this.

After some time had passed, he could feel numbness creeping into one of his legs, the vines wrapped around his thigh pulling too tightly and cutting off the circulation. He once again tried to shift a small amount to relieve the pressure and restore feeling to his leg, again to no success. He swore again as he gave up his fight for freedom.

Some crashing in the underbrush below him grabbed his attention and he focused on the ground to see what was causing the ruckus. Part of him hoped it was his brothers coming to save him. His hopes were dashed however, when a giant creature emerged from the foliage at the base of the trees. It didn’t look too friendly, so he didn’t want to draw its attention.

Unfortunately for Crosshair, the creature noticed him anyway. He was sure that he probably looked like a tasty treat, just waiting to be devoured. He began to flail wildly, trying to discourage the creature from coming any closer, which only tangled him in the vines further. The creature lifted its head in his direction, grabbing onto one of the vines near him and pulling it from the cluster to eat.

Another loud noise sounded from the other side of the tree Crosshair had fallen out of and when he saw three helmets appear from the bushes, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. He saw Tech hold out his hand to stop Hunter and Wrecker, his goggled eyes focused on the large creature feasting below Crosshair.

Not heeding his brother’s warning, Wrecker charged forward making loud noises at the creature. It made a startled grunting noise before shuffling off away from the group, disappearing into the bushes. Crosshair was glad to see it go, relieved that it hadn’t decided to eat him. Tech and Hunter walked over to join Wrecker below where Crosshair hung, all three looking up at him.

“Some help would be nice,” Crosshair said. “Not that I didn’t appreciate you preventing me from being that thing’s lunch.”

After several minutes of discussion on the best way to extract Crosshair from the vines, the rest of his squad managed to free him. Once his feet were back on solid ground, Crosshair could see the footprints left by the creature. They were even bigger than he imagined, having only seen the animal from a high up, upside down vantage point.

“I don’t think he could have done much damage,” Wrecker said. “He was just a little guy!”

“I don’t know what that thing is, but I wouldn’t qualify it as a little guy,” Crosshair sneered. “It wanted to eat me.”

“We’ve seen bigger things on other planets,” Tech said, “like that Rancor that tried to swipe at the Marauder on Felucia.”

“Well, unlike that time on Felucia, I was trapped and couldn’t get away.”

“At least you got your excitement for the day,” Hunter said with a chuckle. “So it wasn’t a complete bust.”

“Next time we’re on a jungle planet, I’m staying on the ship,” Crosshair said as he regathered his things and headed back in the direction of the Marauder.

“I’ll make sure to do enough research in advance so nothing tries to eat you,” Tech said, following after him.

“I think if anything ate him, it would get an upset stomach,” Hunter said.

Crosshair threw a rude hand gesture over his shoulder at his brothers, which got a booming laugh from Wrecker. He picked up the pace, putting some distance between himself and the rest of the group. He wanted to get off this planet as soon as possible, before anything else tried to eat him.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! Please reblog, like, and comment! I'm a few posts behind, but I'm working on getting caught up! This is once again a reference to something from "Plant Yourself in My Heart". Crosshair's fateful date with the vines and falling out of trees.

#clonetober2023 #star wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars:the bad batch #the bad batch #crosshair #tbb crosshair

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galactic-pirates · 5 months

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@ussjellyfish and @purlturtle 🤗🤗 two tags, I feel so wanted. Thank you guys!! ❤️

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

82. More than half are Once Upon a Time as that was the fandom I started writing with my AO3.

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

942,705 which is annoying. I have quit fanfic for the time being and not having made the million is disappointing. I mean I have written more than a million I am sure as I never cross posted anything from my fanfic.net account and I have some on my HD I never posted.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

None at the moment. I still have much affection for Sanctuary, Warehouse 13, The Librarians and Star Trek. There were a number of ideas on my list that I never got round to writing. I feel nostalgia for it but with my spoons (or lack thereof lately) I have to choose. I can’t write original and fanfic, and for now I am wanting to write original.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Fall All Over Again (Once Upon a Time) - 181

Before the first Dark Curse the Evil Queen had a paranoid moment, which meant in cursed Storybrooke, Gold and Lacey were married. Therefore when Belle falls over the town line - Lacey returns. Everyone is shouting at her, and everything is wrong, so Lacey does something she never did once in 28 years of marriage, she turns to Gold for protection. In turn Rumplestiltskin does something that Gold never did in 28 years of marriage - he tells Lacey that he loves her. Belle loved him, so can Lacey fall for him all over again or will the curse mask true love forever?

and the Brighter side of Life (The Librarians) - 150

When Eve takes Flynn home, to meet her parents, she realises with dawning horror that he’s the first serious boyfriend they’ve ever met. The secrets of the library mean her parents know so little about her life, and her new status as an immortal threatens to create a gulf between them. But for now she still has her parents, and it seems if her mom has anything to say about it, the entire annex has gained her parents too.

Painting Layers of Love (Once Upon a Time) - 137 [Abandoned/Incomplete]

Belle French lives alone and she likes it that way. She’s lived alone ever since the terrible car accident which killed her mother and claimed her eyesight. Belle spends her days painting, in complete solitude, until one day she wakes up and hears movement outside. Somebody has moved into the cottage next door. She had grown comfortable in her solitary existence until Mr Gold crashes into her life. Now her future is uncertain, like a blank canvas, waiting for her to apply the paint and decide what kind of story she is creating.

All I Needed (Once Upon a Time) - 129

When Emma told her high school sweetheart Neal, that she was pregnant a month before graduation, she didn’t know what to expect. The last thing she expected to find was a family, and a place to call home.

Transposing Digits (Once Upon a Time) - 122

The phone in the library had always been silent, until one day it started ringing. Belle French answers it and discovers that life really can turn on a dime - or in this case a wrong number.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes mostly. AO3 has stopped emailing me even though my profile says I should get them (I have checked and they aren’t in spam) and if I delay too long I feel awkward about replying. Also sometimes I don’t if I am unsure what to say. But mostly yes I do reply because every comment I receive is treasured, and I want them to know I am grateful.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don’t really do angst - I am Team Happy Ending all the way. My first thought was “The Beauty and the Tragedy” (Once Upon a Time) because the original ending was totally angsty. But I felt bad as even though it was poetic it was sad, so I added an alternate ending happy ending the very day I posted. So I think probably “Ghost of a Memory” (Timeless) as that was just pure pain. Both of these were character death, so not like me.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh man I have quite a few pure fluff. The most sickly sweet zero angst, zero anything but sugar though is probably the amusing (for the question) titled “Happy Ending” (Sanctuary). My OT3 got married.

8. Do you get hate on fic?

Fortunately I don’t think I have. I don’t think I am popular enough to have attracted it. I did once get two commenters arguing with each other which didn’t feel good.

9. Do you write smut?

Not anymore really. I did for a time. It was a very big thing in the Rumbelle fandom and I wanted to fit in. I don’t regret it as it was a good writing exercise, and it allowed me to explore a wider range of ideas. However, once I started to drift from the fandom I lost the urge to write it. I wrote mild smut (more feelings) in my Time Will Tell (Sanctuary) fic as it was an important part of the character development/plot. I think if I ever write it again it will be along those lines.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes. I have written a couple. They are always the most fun. It’s great to put certain characters together like I loved having Nikola Tesla (Sanctuary) and Claudia (Warehouse 13) meet. I regret that in that crossover I didn’t manage to get HG and Helen ‘on screen’ together. The name clash aside, they are two fascinating women who have a lot in common. I did have on my ideas list more of a Warehouse 12/Sanctuary crossover (with time travelling Myka) but I never got round to writing it. My problem is my fics are so long and writing basically novels is time consuming. Anyway one of the easiest ways to crossover is I have something of a hobby of basically taking the Ancients (Stargate precursors) and seeing how many universes I can crossover with them as a backdrop. Such fun.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not of which I am aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Don’t believe so.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

You may laugh as this but I am 99% sure the answer is no, and yet I have some weird paranoia that says maybe? It’s like I think I have forgotten something. Yet I am sure the answer is no. Stupid brain.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

When I’m obsessed I am really obsessed. Like I go all in super hard. But like a flame the hotter I burn, the shorter it tends to live. Afterwards it’s not that I don’t like it anymore, it’s just that it’s not an all consuming thing, and then I find something else to go crazy about.

But that being said if I have to pick one then I will probably say Bering and Wells (Warehouse 13) as it seems to have the most sticking power thus far. I do wonder if that’s because I fell into it when I wasn’t writing, so my obsession (like a fire) was banked and therefore has lingered long term. I still like to take part in the gift exchange every year. And next year if I have the spoons I would like to put together a Bingo for the fandom. With having given up fanfic I’m not really active in any other fandom at the moment. I would like to do some more fanart but aforementioned spoon shortage - it’s a problem.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

Beyond the Lake. It was a Rashoman Job inspired Librarians fic, crazy complicated which is why it didn’t get done but the concept compels me. I can call this a WIP as I did write a couple of chapters. There was also my Noir Warehouse 13, I had I don’t know 10 pages or so starting on that? But alas never to see the light of day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

95% or so of the time I finish what I start. I have a couple of abandoned fics on AO3 (guilt, guilt) and yeah there’s a few on my HD. But I have written several long novel length fics, and they did get done. So I think I have reasonable discipline.

I’m also never short of ideas. I can come up with something for any prompt if required (probably), and I do like my ideas. I mean I suppose I would (they are mine) but yeah I think the ideas are good. I sometimes doubt my ability to realise them but the ideas themselves, solid.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Many.

I used to think my biggest issue was description but while that does need serious work, I have a far bigger problem - my characters think too much. They don’t talk to one another. When they have a problem they think about it, no conversation. It makes it very static and not much action or banter.

Truthfully I think it’s because I personally think about everything far too much. I don’t talk to people with speaking (I type on discord a lot) but actual conversations? Barely ever. Mum checks in on FaceTime with me almost every day but if it wasn’t for that I would go literal weeks without talking to a soul probably. So anything that happens I am hardwired to think about it - not talk about it - ergo I have absolutely no idea how to craft conversations. What do people talk about?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

You know it’s funny I have been contemplating this in my serial recently This particular case is set in France and so a lot of people should be speaking French. In the end I decided not to worry about it for the first draft. I think in revision I will sprinkle in some flavour words (like please, thank you etc.) and then keep the dialogue in English but try and make it sound like a plausible speech pattern for them. Maybe say it’s in French but if my character speaks French, then they understand so it’s written in English. I don’t know. It’s like when I try and write Sanctuary with The Five from the 19th century, they sound very different from someone like Claudia who is all pop culture references. I want it to feel accurate but also the reader needs to understand and in novels having a variant of subtitles might be annoying.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

This says wrote for, not published. I am relatively sure I wrote some self-insert Famous Five adventures when I was about six (long before I knew fanfic existed). I definitely messed around with some Diagnosis Murder when I was 9 (again before I knew fanfic existed). Obviously, when I was 11, The Royal/Heartbeat was the first actual fandom, with the posting and everything. I explained how that came to be before.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Ooof. I think… I really liked and the Sins of Atlantis the Librarians/Sanctuary crossover. It was entirely self-indulgent and a lot of fun. I also had fun with the Odyssey: Future’s Legacy (Warehouse 13/Sanctuary) crossover. The Star Wars fusion Across the Stars I did for Once Upon a Time was also cool. Sometimes I have these ideas and they just work for me, they like click something in my brain and unroll and mesh together, and just yes. The Beauty and the Tragedy doesn’t even read to me like I wrote it, there’s a clever poetic twist that is so unlike me. I have a soft spot for quite a few fics. It’s not that I think I wrote them well (I didn’t) but the ideas sing to me. I am my own audience in this respect.

But I think ultimately my answer has to be Between Two Fires, a Once Upon a Time fic. Set on a made-up sci-fi world. I could picture it clearly and it riffs off the Jack and Irina relationship in Alias. It was quite a short fic but there is so so much more of it in my mind. Truthfully one day that will probably get expanded and changed to be an original novel trilogy. I have notes. That fic just stuck with me, there is something there to be developed.

Tagging: @tinknevertalks, @ladyelysandra, @enterprise-come-in, @sarcasticsciencefictionwriter, @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth

The questions!

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fic?

9. Do you write smut?

10. Do you write crossovers?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

#Sam talks writing

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fennelwrites · 2 years

Text

beneath the brine (mermaid!volo/reader)

iiiiit's mermay >:3

(cw: slight obsessive behavior. but reader's cool with it LMAO)

read on ao3

Ever since you were young, you’d always had a fascination with the sea. Something about that deep, swirling abyss compelled you to look deeper, to plunge into the depths and survey each and every creature that lived there. You’d read somewhere that certain sailors felt that the ocean called to them, and you felt that call in your very being.

But unfortunately, you were dogshit at math. So marine biology was out.

To compensate for a lack of prospective career in the sciences, you spent much of your time at the aquarium. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the same as seeing these animals in their natural environments, but you still got a thrill as you watched them float and glide in their tanks. You lived in a town close to the ocean, and the local aquarium often featured species from the nearby waters. You’d become as much of an aficionado as you could without actively pursuing the field, and you were considering applying for a job at the aquarium. All that knowledge had to get you somewhere.

When you weren’t at the aquarium, you were out at the beach; you often ate lunch out there, treating yourself to a little picnic by the shore. There were countless little niches and coves along the shore, making it easy to find solitude if you wanted it.

Ironically enough, it was while you were looking for solitude when you first met him.

You ducked under a rocky bluff, emerging into a small half-circle of beach surrounded by a wall of mossy stone. It was a clear day, and the temperature was perfect, not too hot and not too cold. You breathed in the salty air, closing your eyes and enjoying the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore. It was perfect.

“Well, hello there!”

Almost.

Your eyes snapped open as you whirled around toward the source of the voice; a few feet into the surf, perched on a rock, was a young man. The lower half of his body was hidden, but what you could see of his upper body was lithe and lean. His light blond hair was tied back into a bun, his bangs elegantly swept over one of his piercing gray eyes.

“Apologies for startling you,” he continued, seemingly incognizant of the fact that you were eyeing him like a piece of fine art. “I don’t typically see other people here, so imagine my surprise when you strolled into my little hiding spot!”

He smiled at you, and you felt almost blinded by it. Just who was this guy? Attractive and polite, but evidently not without a playful streak. You could see that in his eyes. You opened your mouth, trying to say something, but whatever you were about to say died on your tongue.

A thought occurred to you as you watched him watch you. There were plenty of local legends about sirens and mermaids in these parts, creatures that would lure people into the depths, never to be seen again. And while you’d never considered yourself a believer in them…

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, he laughed softly to himself before shifting on the rock in order to sit on it.

Perfectly normal legs, and a nice set of swim trunks.

“Sorry,” you finally said, finding your voice at last. “I was just looking for a place to eat my lunch. I can leave–”

“Oh, no need!” he interrupted, flashing that brilliant smile at you again. “I’m happy for the company, actually. It was just beginning to get boring around here.” He slid off the rock, wading through the surf until he reached you and held his hand out. “I’m Volo. Might I know your name?”

You told him, and he smiled as though he’d learned more about you than you’d meant to give him.

Volo was a peculiar fellow; in your first meeting with him, you barely learned anything about him at all. It wasn’t until you saw him later that week at the aquarium that you gained some information on the man; on paper, he worked at the gift shop, but he was rarely there. Instead, he frequented the tanks and displays much like you did.

The two of you were fast friends, bonding over your shared love of marine life. Whenever you saw each other at the aquarium, you’d exchange little fun facts about each of the creatures you saw, and your conversations carried over whenever you met on the beach. Although you never really learned much about his personal life–he’d always deflect your questions with that shining smile–you learned of his passion, his intellect, and his charm.

Although, to be fair, you’d known about the charm since day one.

It was strange, though; even though you’d first met him in the water, you’d never seen Volo swim since. Even when you were out in the waves in your swimsuit, he’d sit on the shore. It piqued your curiosity, but you never found a good moment to ask him about it. After all, “why don’t you swim” is a bit of an odd question, and your friendship with Volo, while strong, was still quite new.

As you made your way to your favorite spot, you thought about it more. You’d freely given plenty of information about yourself, innocent things like favorite foods and little details about your home life, but you’d never learned anything of substance about him. You had no idea where he was from, you’d never heard anything about his family, and you certainly had no idea why he liked spending time out here as much as you did.

Just who was he?

Little did you know that as you turned the corner into the little niche, you were about to find out.

Whatever you were planning on greeting him with died on your tongue as you saw Volo splayed out on the sand, dark ropes criss-crossing his form. You faintly recognized the ropes as fishing nets before your gaze drifted downwards; emerald green scales glittered faintly beneath the netting, culminating in a golden fin at the end of his tail.

His tail.

Your eyes met Volo’s again; he was staring back at you with an unreadable expression. His lips were parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. The only sound that met your ears was the gentle crash of the waves against the shore.

You took a cautious step forward, and Volo instinctively leaned back. “It’s okay,” you said without thinking; was it okay? You supposed you’d figure that out. “I just want to help with those nets.”

Volo relaxed slightly, and you continued your approach, setting your basket of food down and kneeling before him. You worked in silence, gently detangling the nets from his form. All the while, he stared at you, almost like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Once you slipped the last of the nets off his arms, he placed a hand on your forearm. You flinched on instinct, and he drew back slightly. “...you’re scared of me,” he said softly. He didn’t seem to feel any particular way about that; it was simply a statement of fact.

Should you be scared?

“A little,” you admitted, continuing to detangle the nets around his tail. “But mostly, I just want to help.”

Volo laughed hollowly, shifting to allow you better access. “Even if after this, I drag you to the bottom of the sea?”

You looked up at him, your skepticism evident on your face. “Would you really?”

Whatever you were expecting to see in his face, it wasn’t what currently stared back at you. That playful curiosity was gone from his eyes; instead, he was gazing at you with something akin to hunger. “You decide,” he answered, his tone hushed.

That…shouldn’t have been so hot, right?

Instead of answering immediately, you elected to focus on the nets trapping his tail. “Well, if this is all a ploy to eventually drown me,” you said finally, “you’ve done a spectacular job with it. Though I can’t imagine getting stuck in fishing nets was part of your plan.”

You slipped the last of the netting off, and Volo flexed his tail gratefully. “It wasn’t,” he replied, inching closer to you. “But I was going to tell you eventually.” He leveled that intense gaze on you again, and for a moment, you were suspended in it. “Now that you know, how do you feel?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you; there was something hidden behind his controlled affect, and you couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss you senseless or eat you alive. (If you were honest with yourself, looking back, you were okay with both. But you could unpack that later.) You inched forward, trying not to shiver when his gaze only intensified, and gave him your best smile.

“I mean,” you began, “it’s definitely a surprise, but…not a bad one. After all, you live in the ocean, right? That’s already a plus, in my opinion.”

Volo laughed, snaking an arm around your waist. “You really have no self-preservation instinct, do you?”

You snorted, despite the alarm bells making themselves present in his gaze. “I don’t see you complaining about that.”

Volo’s grip tightened almost imperceptibly before he tugged you forward and crashed his lips into yours. Things were moving dizzyingly fast, and you had little choice but to hold onto Volo’s shoulders for dear life. The hand not around your waist threaded itself into your hair, gripping you tightly, but not uncomfortably. Volo kissed you like he wanted to consume you, and he held you like he was drowning. You couldn’t tell if you were his lifeline or if he wanted to pull you down with him.

Just as you were beginning to feel the need for air, Volo pulled back, though his grip on you remained. “You have no idea,” he breathed in between gasps for air, “how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

You really didn’t; he had been masking his intentions so well. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was still hiding something.

But as you pulled him in for another kiss, you found that you didn’t really care.

#my summary on ao3 was actually good and then my summary here basically amounts to 'come get y'all juice'#writing #volo #volo x reader #volo/reader #pokemon volo #pokemon legends arceus

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imagines-ahs · 2 years

Text

Chapter Twelve - Cyan.

Summary: Wilhemina Venable felt it was finally time to leave Kineros Robotics and get a job with people who weren’t such morons like Jeff and Mutt. What she didn’t expect, however, was for her new boss to be so damn insufferable. She didn’t expect to fall in love with her, either.

Tag List: @devriesgoode @mistysswampmud @paulsonsratched @msvenablx @notmeellaannyy @rwoolfe (message me to be added if interested!)

“Thank you, Emma.” Emma could have anyone she wanted; it was only fair Wilhemina was the one to thank her. It almost feels like charity. In an impulse, Venable leaned to peck Emma’s lips before getting out of the car. She walked to her door, opening it and turning to wave back at Emma. With a smile, Emma waved at her. She got inside, and Purpura was already there to greet her. Now, in the solitude of her house, Wilhemina felt all the adrenaline crashing down. She bit her lower lip and smiled brightly. I kissed Emma. The thought was comforting and scary at the same time. She felt like a woman again, but she was scared like a child. I kissed her. I kissed someone. Slowly, she sat down on the couch. Purpura jumped on her lap and meowed at her, leaning to smell her face and neck. Venable blushed. “Sweetheart…” Purpura meowed again. Wilhemina chuckled. “I think you’d like her.” She caressed the cat’s back underneath her sweater, feeling the warm skin. “You did like Billie Dean, didn’t you?” Purpura bumped her head against Venable’s cheek. She smiled. “I like her, too.” I like her, too. Wilhemina stopped to think about her own words. She did like Billie Dean, a lot actually. She cared about her. I’m glad she invited me to the work trip. It was a weird thing to admit to herself, but Venable was happy she would be there to help Billie Dean with the work. After a minute of caressing the cat, she got up to change and get ready for bed. Her underwear was warmer than usual. This is embarrassing. Wilhemina ignored it, for everything was already too much. She’d deal with one thing at a time. After brushing her teeth and getting into her pajamas, Venable got comfortable in bed. Purpura cuddled next to her. Mindlessly, she scratched between her ears. “I don’t know how to feel, Purpura…” Wilhemina looked down at the cat; her big eyes stared right back at her, paying attention. “I’m happy, it just feels… odd.” The cat blinked once. “I know, it’s confusing. And it shouldn’t be… not now, in my age.” Purpura meowed at her. Venable sighed. “Maybe it’s always confusing… just a little more to me.” The cat stretched her paws, and Wilhemina frowned as she saw a strand of blonde hair on her sheets. She reached for it, grabbing the strand with her thumb and pointer finger. That’s Billie Dean’s. Venable stared at it, allowing her mind to wander. How would it be to go to the movies with Billie Dean? How come all she could think about after her date with Emma involved Billie Dean? Shaking her head, Wilhemina let the strand fall to the floor and reached for the book on her nightstand. Even though her eyes were tired, she could use the distraction for her mind. And unusually warm body. Sleep would come soon, she figured, and when it did, Venable turned the lights off and lay down underneath the sheets. Emma’s perfume was still attached to her skin. No tobacco. It was no Floratta Blue, either.

In her dreams, Wilhemina kissed someone. It was a she, but she couldn’t point to who it was. She smelled like strawberries, but also faintly like tobacco. Her hair was shorter, like Billie Dean’s, but dark in color, like Emma’s. It was silky and smooth and she caressed it as she pulled the woman closer by the waist. But the muscles weren’t as strong as the ones she had felt on Emma’s waist, and they weren’t as soft as she had imagined Billie Dean’s would be. The kiss was tender, but carried something more carnal to it. The woman moved down on her neck like Emma had done, calling her beautiful and whispering sweet nothings on her ear; the voice carried the tone of Billie Dean’s, but the sweetness of Emma’s. Her head bent back, and the kisses got rougher. The lips sucked on her neck, causing her knees to go weak. Venable let out a small moan and reached to kiss her full on the lips again, eyes still closed. Strawberries and tobacco invaded her mouth. Wilhemina’s hands slipped lower to the woman’s buttcheeks, pulling her closer and squeezing them. She felt no inhibitions with that woman; she felt absolutely comfortable and utterly free. The hands on her own waist slipped and caressed her spine, tracing the curves of it with her fingertips. And Venable didn’t mind; she didn’t flinch, she didn’t pull away, she didn’t feel ashamed. The woman brought her comfort. Wilhemina felt the lips on her own slipping down to her jaw again, and then they kissed just bellow her ear. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. Venable breathed hard, not managing to say anything back. “Utterly and absolutely gorgeous, Wilhemina…” The voice was still unfamiliar, yet absolutely comforting. The woman’s fingertips kept on caressing her spine, bringing her a sense of security. In her dream, Venable gulped, hands slipping up the woman’s body until she reached her face and cupped her cheeks. Slowly, they stared at each other; there Billie Dean stood, with green eyes and dark, long hair. Strawberries and tobacco.

“Mmph,” Wilhemina murmured as a ray of sunshine hit her directly on the eyes. Slowly, she felt herself waking up. Purpura was still asleep beside her, so she carefully turned to the other side and took a deep breath, hiding her face into the pillow. When she moved to lay on her back again, Venable realized something felt different between her legs. And then she remembered the dream. And everything made sense. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she covered her face with her palms. “Oh God,” she groaned. The lower pit of her stomach was still burning. It’s been a while… Wilhemina rarely masturbated, but with how she was feeling, she assumed she’d only be able to start her day if she took care of it. Without thinking much, Venable allowed a hand to rest on her stomach. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Porn had never caught her attention; it was all a show for men, after all, especially lesbian porn. Maybe I can ignore it. She played with the hem of her shirt, trying to get distracted as her body and mind were still waking up. But the dream had been very vivid, and she could almost taste the tobacco mixed with strawberry. It must go away soon. But did Venable want it to go away on its own? I kissed Emma yesterday. The memory came in a flash. Wilhemina bit her lower lip, hand squeezing the fabric of her shirt. Her feet bounced nervously, brown eyes glued on the sealing. The feeling of Emma’s lips against her own simply wouldn’t go away. Venable sighed, gulping right after. I’m not taking my shirt off. Slowly, her fingers moved lower. Wilhemina cupped her center on top of her pajama pants. “Oh…” It felt hot to the touch. Something inside already moved. I can feel my nipples against my shirt. It was nearly embarrassing, how turned on Venable was from just a dream. Licking her chapped lips, Wilhemina closed her eyes. Her free hand slipped underneath her shirt and she slowly dragged her fingertips up her torso, touching her ribs and, eventually, cupping one of her breasts. The nipple peeked through her fingers. With her thumb, she gently massaged it. The images inside her head began to get more and more vivid, and she kept on picturing Emma; the way they kissed, the way she had held her close and caressed her hips, the way she kissed down her neck and breathed in her ear. Venable sighed. Hesitantly, she slipped the hand between her legs into her pants, cupping herself on top of her purple underwear; it was moist. She could feel it, already. It’s been too long. Wilhemina began to think of all the things that could have happened in the car yesterday, had she not stopped Emma. And God, the way Emma’s dress captured her body and showed every single curve of it caused Venable’s stomach to twist. She bit her lower lip, eyebrows darting closer together as her fingers pressed against her vulva, finding the sensitive nub and focusing on it. Wilhemina moved her fingers slowly, getting used to the sensation, and then her underwear began to cling to her center. I’m dripping. Her cheeks flushed a little more, but she didn’t stop. In Venable’s fantasy, Emma straddled her on the car and kissed her on the lips, hips bucking as Wilhemina gladly helped her to do so. Her palms ached with the imaginary feeling of Emma’s buttcheeks against them; squeezing them, playing with them. “Mgh,” Venable sighed. The hand on her breasts moved to toy with the other one, thumb caressing the nipple and palm massaging the fat. She needed more, so she allowed her fingers to slip inside her underwear. A tiny gasp left her already parted lips. Wilhemina bucked her hips slightly, insisting against her own hand. The images in her head never stopped, and she now played with Emma’s thighs in them. Billie Dean’s legs are prettier. The image shifted to Billie Dean straddling her, and the aroma of Floratta Blue almost invaded her nostrils. “Oh—“ Venable’s insides squeezed at nothing. She applied more pressure to her clitoris, circling it in rougher patterns. The room was quiet besides the low gasps and moans Wilhemina was letting escape, as well as the utterly sexual sounds that came from between her legs. She was building up quickly. I wonder how Billie Dean’s kiss is like. Now, in Venable’s mind, Billie Dean kissed her; the lips were soft and a little rougher than what she remembered Emma’s kiss to be like. And she absolutely loved it. The fingers between her legs sped up, and Wilhemina slightly arched her hips from the bed. I’m close. It felt so fucking delicious. Venable squeezed her breast and toyed a little more with the nipple, passing it between her fingers. “Mgh… mph…” She squeezed her eyes closed. Billie Dean kept on kissing her lips and bucking against her hands. Wilhemina’s hands slipped inside Billie’s underwear in her fantasy, feeling the hot cheeks against them. “Oh…” Venable’s middle finger found her entrance and got in; it stung for a second, but then it felt good. Really good. She arched her back, eyelids like screens with all the images in her mind. Her finger curled up, and the pleasure intensified. “Oh… oh—oh…” Wilhemina gulped, hips moving sloppier, hand working faster. She was right there. And then her mind flashed with images of her taking Billie Dean’s blue dress off, seeing her body, feeling her skin. And it was all too much. Venable arched her back sharply as she bit her lip not to moan too loudly, insides squeezing her digit. “Agh!” She breathed harshly, hand still moving as she enjoyed the last of her orgasm. Eventually, she allowed her middle finger to join the other ones, circling her clitoris lazily. “Mgh…” Wilhemina took a deep breath, free hand falling to the sheets and squeezing them. Her chest raised and fell rapidly. After a minute, Venable took her hand off of her pants and just lay there, breathing softly as she calmed down. I can’t believe I just did that. Her cheeks flushed red, and her eyes opened to stare at the ceiling again. She inhaled deeply. “Oh God,” she breathed out. Beside her, Purpura yawned as she began to wake up. I need a shower. She felt ashamed for having had such sexual thoughts about her own boss. Yes, she did think about Emma too, but it was different. Slowly, Wilhemina got up and went to the bathroom. The first thing she did was wash her hands, proceeding to undress herself and get into the shower. Her mind kept on going back to Emma… to Billie Dean… to everything she had pictured. And then she remembered the work trip, and how the fuck was she going to look at Billie Dean’s eyes after everything she had imagined?

After the shower, Wilhemina took her time to dress herself and cook some vegetables with rice. Purpura joined her in the kitchen, so she fed her some wet food and filled her water bowl. Then, Venable opened a can of tuna and put some on her plate, leaving the half of the cane to share with Purpura later. With her plate in hand, Wilhemina sat down in the corner table of her bedroom once again, for the dining table was still occupied with her art supplies. The cat meowed as she jumped on her lap. “No no no,” Venable said softly. “I will give you some tuna later. Let me eat now, sweetheart.” As if she understood, Purpura jumped off of her lap and sat down on the floor, staring up at her with huge, dark eyes. Wilhemina took a forkful of food and reached for her phone. She scrolled through the notifications, cheeks tinting as she saw Billie Dean’s name followed by Emma’s. Taking another forkful, Venable clicked on Billie’s name. ’Good morning, roomie (;’ read the first message, ‘Just checking if we’re all settled for tomorrow morning?’. Roomie. Wilhemina couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Billie Dean said it. She set her fork aside and began to type back. ’All set. I’m about to start packing.’ Wilhemina read her message again and bit her lower lip. After a second, she began typing again. ’I’ll see you tomorrow, roomie.’ With a small chuckle, she hit send. Taking another forkful, she scrolled down to Emma’s messages and began to read them. ’Good morning, gorgeous. Can’t stop thinking about last night.’ The message caused Venable to blush so hard she had to close her eyes and take a deep breath. For sure Emma hadn’t thought about last night the way she had done earlier. I still can’t believe I did that. Gathering enough courage, she read the next text Emma had sent her, ’I’ll pick up the kitty at three. Will make sure to send you pictures!’ A small smile made its way to Wilhemina’s lips. It was sweet how much Emma shared her life with her; she could only aspire to be like that someday. After taking yet another forkful, Venable typed back. ’Good morning, Emma. Last night was delightful. Excited to see the kitty.’ Calling Emma a pet name was weird. Wilhemina rarely ever called someone pet names; that was solely reserved to Purpura.

After finishing her lunch, Venable walked to the kitchen to fill the dishwasher and turn it on. Purpura meowed at her once again, sniffing the cane of tuna. With a chuckle, Wilhemina reached to open it and put the rest of the food in a bowl. “Here you are.” She set it down for the cat. With the dishes washing, she now cleaned the dining table. Where should I put my painting? She had a whole case full of paintings, but they were at the attic and she was not in the mood to go grab it. I’ll just leave it in my room. The corner table would be the home of her art supplies for now. Once she put everything to her bedroom, Venable sat on the corner of her bed and looked around; she had to pack for the trip, and she didn’t even know where to start. I guess the first step is getting my suitcase. Thankfully, it wasn’t in the attic, but at the laundry room. She grabbed it and lay it open on her bed. It’s cold, but it might get warmer. Wilhemina had to be prepared for everything. She packed some underwear, pajamas and socks first thing, then she moved onto the outfits. No more than an hour later, everything was set for tomorrow. Wilhemina leaned against the pillows on her bed to give her back a rest, sighing to herself as she did so. Purpura licked her lips as she walked into the bedroom. “Hi, darling. Was the tuna good?” The cat jumped on the bed and moved to lay right on Venable’s chest. She chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.” After turning the TV on, Wilhemina caressed the cat’s skin softly. Some culinary show was on, but she didn’t care to watch it. Allowing her eyes to close, she focused on the purring of Purpura against her chest. And then another buzzing invaded the atmosphere. Carefully, Venable sat up; Purpura jumped to lay beside her. She reached for her phone. Emma. Wilhemina clicked on the notification. ’Here she is!’ read the message, and along with it was attached a picture of the kitty on Emma’s lap while she smiled brightly. Venable couldn’t help but smile back. They both look cute. She typed back an answer: ’Adorable! Any ideas for a name already?’ She hit send, and then she got back to the texts. There was none from Billie Dean. Before she could set her phone aside, Emma already answered her. ’Not yet! Any suggestions?’ Venable thought for a second before texting Emma back. ’What about Miracle?’ It was cliché, but Wilhemina thought it made sense. Emma instantly read and replied to her. ’Perfect! Little Mi.’ Along with the message, Emma attached a heart. With a chuckle at the way Emma shortened the name, Venable texted her a heart back and set her phone aside. She turned the TV off and grabbed her book; she could use a distraction.

Monday morning arrived quite fast. Billie Dean spent her Sunday in bed—saving for the packing she had to do. Jenny had already settled everything else for her, so she focused on resting; God only knew how much she’d have to work on that trip. When the alarm began to disturb her slumber, Billie Dean groaned and reached to turn it off. She had to be fast, so she got up and began to get ready. While she ate breakfast, Billie checked her phone; there were a bunch of notifications from Jenny confirming the details of the trip, as well as notifications from her agent. So much already. It was exhausting sometimes. With a sigh, Billie Dean clicked on Wilhemina’s contact as she ate a spoonful of cereal, typing a quick message: ’Good morning! See you soon!’ To say she was scared Venable would cancel was an understatement.

In her house, Wilhemina checked Pupura’s bowls. “You have enough food for a while, and I put two extra water bowls for you,” she told the cat, which sat down on the counter and watched her. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, darling.” Venable walked to Purpura and scratched between her ears. The cat purred. “I know you’ll be alright… I just worry.” Gently, she kissed the cat’s head. Wilhemina could feel her eyes getting misty, so she sniffled it back and took a deep breath. I’ll see her tomorrow. She’ll be fine. In the pocket of her trousers, Venable felt her phone vibrating. She reached for it and read Billie Dean’s text; her lower lip got stuck between her teeth. Is she… scared I’m not coming? When was the last time someone was so worried about her showing up? Probably yesterday, with Emma. That didn’t count, though. After petting Purpura one last time, she texted Billie Dean back. ’See you. I’m waiting for the driver.’ Yes, Wilhemina had gotten up too early, for she couldn’t really sleep anymore, so she was ready too soon. But it gave her more time to check on everything with Purpura and with her luggage, which eased her anxiety. Venable had already taken a Valium this morning, for the thought of getting on a plane was both exciting and frightening. It’s the safest way of travel. Perhaps the plane was only a facade for the almost childlike anxiety of being away from home. It made sense, though; Wilhemina needed some accommodations to make sure she was comfortable, and not every place had those how she liked it. Once she texted Billie Dean, Venable scrolled to see she had a few texts from Emma; the first one was a picture of Miracle and her lying in bed, with the kitty nuzzled in her hair. Wilhemina let out a sweet chuckle. Along with the picture, Emma wrote: ’Dots is a little jealous, but it’s alright. Look at this cutie!’ Indeed, the kitten was adorable. The second text was from just a few minutes ago. ’I’ll miss you at work today. Excited to see you on Wednesday.’ it read, along with yet another heart emoji. Venable thought the choice was funny. Leaning against the counter, she typed Emma a message: ’Glad to see Miracle is getting comfortable, upset for Dots.’ she sent the text. And then she read the two Emma had sent her again. Would she miss Emma? She didn’t know. Was she excited to see her on Wednesday? I think so. With that in mind, she added another message: ’Excited to see you, too.’ Venable put her phone back into her pocket and walked to the living room. All her luggage was there, so she sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. Soon enough, Purpura jumped on her lap. Wilhemina smiled as she caressed the cat’s skin. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart.” As if she could understand, Purpura meowed once at her. Venable chuckled sadly. “Even if I’m back late tomorrow, I’ll take the time to moisturize your skin, alright?” The cat bumped her head on Wilhemina’s cheek. Venable kissed her. “Okay, I think you’ll like that.” With both hands, she scratched Purpura’s back. Her eyes closed, and the weekend came back into her mind; so many things had happened. It was still foreign to Venable that she actually went out on a date, and even though it wasn’t that big of a deal for most people, the memory of kissing Emma kept itself vivid in her mind. As well as the images she had fabricated of Billie Dean. I’ll see her in less than half an hour. It was embarrassing. Out of impulse, Wilhemina groaned. She couldn’t be gladder that mind reading was not a thing. Before any accusatory thoughts could cross her mind, Venable heard a car parking in front of her house. She moved to get up, causing Purpura to jump to the sofa, and walked to the door; indeed, the driver was already there. Wilhemina took a deep breath and opened the door, waving once to the driver. After putting her coat on, she grabbed her purse and suitcase and locked the door.

“Ms. Venable?” The driver asked as he parked. Wilhemina nodded. “Let me help you with your luggage.”

“Thank you.” Venable waited for the man to finish parking and come grab her suitcase. Once he did so, he closed the trunk and helped Wilhemina to get into the backseat.

The drive to the airport wasn’t that long; Wilhemina kept on staring out of the window, focusing on the buildings passing by and the people walking around. She was nervous, but the Valium was finally kicking in. Billie Dean had sent her a message saying she was waiting for Venable near gate eleven, so to gate eleven she followed. The check-in went by smoothly, and soon enough Wilhemina was walking through the crowd of people. Brown eyes searched for Billie Dean. Gate Ten, she read somewhere and kept on walking. The airport was beautiful and very huge; Venable had never been in one. The sounds were very characteristic of the place and the windows were huge and allowed her to watch the planes. It was nearly mesmerizing. I feel like a child seeing the world for the first time. Of course, no one needed to know that. Wilhemina kept her pose. From the corner of her eye, Venable saw a head of blonde hair that was becoming familiar; she walked that way, palm sweating against her cane. Billie Dean typed on her phone. “Billie Dean?”

Looking up to see Wilhemina, Billie instantly offered her a smile. She looks beautiful. It was no secret that trousers made everyone looked good, but they worked a little too well on Venable. “Hi,” Billie Dean got up and leaned to give her a hug. “Good to see you.”

“You too.” Even though unnecessary in Wilhemina’s eyes, the hug was welcomed. The corners of her eyes lifted up, and Venable couldn’t help but notice that was probably the first time she saw Billie Dean in pants.

“Thank you so much for coming. Truly.” Billie Dean sat back down. She reached for her purse—which was on the seat next to her—and grabbed it. Venable got the hint and sat down beside her.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Billie Dean thanked her a lot, Wilhemina had noticed.

Billie decided she wouldn’t press on that subject anymore. So, instead of insisting, she said nothing regarding it. “Was it alright to get here?” Wilhemina nodded. “Good, good.” Venable didn’t say anything back. Billie Dean’s eyes watched her, and she couldn’t help but notice the way Wilhemina focused outside and on the planes. “Have you ever flown before?” She asked after a second.

Wilhemina turned back to look at Billie Dean, cheeks struggling not to tint. Timidly, she shook her head. After a second, her body forced itself to sit up straight. “No, I have not.”

Even though the change in posture had been fast, Billie Dean caught the way Venable had looked at her; with shoulders in and eyes big. “Are you scared?”

A little bit. Wilhemina was not allowing herself to say that. “No,” she said instead.

“Really?” Billie Dean didn’t believe her. She acts so tough all the time. It was a facade she knew all too well. “Even to this day I get a little scared when flying.”

Discretely, Venable bit her inner cheek. Billie Dean was so… honest. Open. Herself. “For real?” It was Wilhemina’s time to ask, and her voice didn’t come as harsh as it always did.

“Mhm,” Billie nodded, and she watched as Venable looked down and seemed to think for a second. I got into her.

“If I’m being honest,” Wilhemina started lowly, eyes moving back up to Billie. “I am a little scared.” It was weird how easily Billie Dean could manage to open her up. Venable didn’t know why, or how, or even if she appreciated or hated it. But it indeed felt different.

A smile broke through Billie’s lips. “That’s alright.” She reached to squeeze one of Wilhemina’s hands. Venable didn’t flinch; but she did notice how much warmer than hers Billie Dean’s was. It was nice. “I’ll be here for you.”

This time, Wilhemina’s cheeks tinted. The corners of her lips turned up, and she nodded. “Thank you.” It was an honest answer. Not many people saw her fears and offered to help; mostly because she didn’t allow anyone to, but also because people were simply shitty. Shyly, she turned her palm and squeezed Billie Dean’s hand back.

Her hand feels good. Lost in that thought, Billie allowed her hand to rest there a little longer. Wilhemina didn’t pull away, either. “Did you have a good weekend?”

The memory of everything that had happened flew back into Venable’s head. She blinked once and tried not to look uncomfortable. “I think so. Did you?”

Weird. Billie Dean didn’t let the way Wilhemina shifted lightly on her chair to slip by. “Me too. I was able to rest a lot, thankfully.”

“Thankfully,” Venable nodded. She had seen firsthand how overworked Billie Dean was, even if she wasn’t completely sure of on what terms she was with whatever Billie worked with. “I’m glad you did.”

“Thank you.” Billie Dean smiled a little. Their hands were still resting there, one on top of each other. “Could you rest?”

Wilhemina nodded. “Yesterday was a very lazy day. So was Saturday, just not as much.”

“Oh, what did you do?” Billie Dean couldn’t help herself; she was a curious person. But before Venable could answer, a voice came on the speakers letting everyone know their flight was now boarding. Wilhemina looked at her with a questioning look. “We should go.” Venable nodded, and deep inside she thanked whatever existed for not having to answer that question. How would she simply tell her boss—Billie Dean—that she went on a date with Emma? A fellow coworker Billie Dean knew had a romantic interest in her? Venable simply didn’t want to have that conversation. Billie was the first one to get up, letting go of Wilhemina’s hand and reaching for her purse. Venable did the same, and just like a puppy, she followed Billie Dean wherever she went. They stopped at a line, and Wilhemina’s brown eyes scanned the window outside and the plane they were about to board into. Her stomach flipped nervously. Come on. Don’t be a child. Floratta Blue invaded her nostrils as a gush of air passed by. Venable would be lying if she said she didn’t think about that scent during the weekend. Billie Dean watched her discretely; under the bright light of the window, she could see every single detail of her face, including the gorgeous light purple eyeshadow and deep red lipstick. Wilhemina was still so absolutely intriguing to her, like a book you knew the basis but didn’t get to read the plot. What was Venable’s plot?

From the corner of her eye, Venable caught Billie Dean’s brown hues on her. She turned to look at her, and Billie offered her a small smile. She chuckled nervously. “What?”

“Nothing.” Billie Dean shook it off. “I’m happy you’re here with me, that’s all.”

Even though simple, the words went straight to Wilhemina’s most sensitive part. She stared at Billie Dean for a second, waiting for the punchline, and when it didn’t come, she bit her lower lip and smiled slightly. Life had taken a complete turn lately, and it almost felt like something was waiting to come and break her again. “I’m happy, too,” she said after a while.

“So this is not just a boring work obligation to you?” Billie Dean teased, and she watched as Venable let out a laugh and lifted her eyebrows in a way she couldn’t deny was kind of cute.

“We’ll see,” Wilhemina teased back, even though she already knew coming along had been a good idea.

The line moved again, and they were next to board. After checking the documents, they were allowed into the hall and inside the plane. Wilhemina kept on following Billie Dean, and she noticed how a few people looked at them and whispered to each other. Billie Dean was famous, after all. It was uncomfortable. When they reached first class, Venable held herself not to gasp. How could a plane be so damn fancy? Yes, she was used to nice things, but the seats were huge and looked absolutely comfortable. She wondered how the seats at economic would be like, but she didn’t think they would be that much worse.

“That’s us.” Billie Dean pointed to two of the seats on the left row. “Would you like the window?” She was used to seeing the clouds at this point, so she didn’t mind if Venable would prefer that seat. While the window seemed good and secluded, the irrational side of Wilhemina’s brain screamed the hall was better if anything happened. Billie Dean is used to planes. She probably knows how to act if something happens. With that in mind, she nodded. And also because she didn’t think she was more worth of life than Billie Dean was. Carefully, she sat down and already buckled herself up, settling the cane beside her. The window was small and round, and Venable found the glass to be a little funny looking. Billie Dean took the other seat, leaning back and buckling up as well. “Are you alright?” She asked once Wilhemina didn’t say anything.

For the first time, Venable was glad someone had asked her that question. She turned to Billie Dean. “A little nervous,” she confessed.

“That’s okay.” Billie Dean offered her a reassuring smile. “You can talk to me.”

“I don’t want to be a child,” in her nervous state, Wilhemina simply blurted it out. Now I’m being a child. How absolutely embarrassing was that? But Billie Dean simply shook her head. She shook her head and reached for Venable’s hand once again, caressing it with her thumb. How come it came that naturally for Billie Dean? To simply hold her hand like that? And how come I don’t mind? It had felt like such a huge step with Emma. It’s different with Billie Dean. There’s no interest between us.

“You are not being a child. I, too, have fears. That’s being human.” God knows how much Billie Dean knew about fear; she worked with it, after all. Everyone was afraid of something, no matter the age. It was natural. It was almost beautiful. “And planes are fucking scary. I mean, how do they fly? They weight thousands and they’re made out of metal and they don’t have wings to flap.” She watched as Venable’s eyes grew in size. Shit. “And still, they do. And they’re used worldwide every single day in billions of airports. They work. And this one works, too. Right now, thousands of planes are getting to their destination, safe and sound. We will, too.” She kept on caressing Wilhemina’s hand with her thumb.

She’s right. Venable took a deep breath and let out a nod. Billie Dean didn’t make her feel ridiculous for being human. Most people did. “You’re right,” she breathed out. Without noticing, she squeezed Billie’s hand back. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Billie Dean was quick to say. “Being human is beautiful. I’ve told you this before, I don’t want to simply be your boss. You can count on me, Wilhemina.”

These words had never made much sense to Venable. Suddenly, she saw their meaning. With a shy smile, she nodded. “Me too, for you.” Billie Dean opened her mouth to answer, but the speakers cut her off. The instructions began to roll out, and they both turned to look at it. Their hands were still together, for none of them had interest in moving. It was comforting. Once the instructions were done, the plane began to move. Billie eyed Wilhemina, watching the way she stared out of the window. I like to look at her. Venable was easy on the eyes. When the plane began to catch speed, Billie Dean felt the hand on her own squeezing it. She bit her lip, not saying anything. Wilhemina didn’t seem to realize what she was doing, and she was definitely not going to be the one to point to it. If Venable felt at least a little better that way, Billie Dean was more than glad to have her hand squeezed. She’s cold. Brown hues kept on paying attention to the way Wilhemina’s eyebrows drew close in worry up until the plane was stabilized up in the sky. Venable seemed to sigh, and subconsciously she stopped squeezing Billie Dean’s hand. With a smile, Billie leaned back against her seat and relaxed as well. “It’s beautiful,” Wilhemina said quietly.

“What is?”

“The sky… from up here.” Venable’s eyes kept glued outside, but now her face was far from nervous. She looked mesmerized. Wilhemina carried a look in her eyes Billie Dean had never seen before; one of wonder, innocence, curiosity.

I want to make her look like that more often. Billie Dean was not stupid; she knew there was something in Wilhemina’s past, she just didn’t know what. “I agree.” She leaned closer to stare at the window as well. Floratta Blue clouded Venable’s nostrils. “Hopefully we fly just on top of a cloud. It’s gorgeous when that happens… it almost looks like a bed made out of cotton.”

“I can see that.” Wilhemina smiled to herself. From up there, it was hard to make out shapes into the clouds, for they were so close. The sky was so blue it looked like the sea. Slowly, she began to relax more and more.

A flight attendant came around with a few snacks and a bottle of water. Both of them gladly accepted them, and their hands were no longer tangled together. While Venable kept her snacks for later, Billie Dean was quick to open the tiny bag of chocolate covered pretzels. She offered one to Wilhemina. “They’re pretty good.”

“Thank you,” Venable shook her head. “I just had breakfast.”

“Me too. But that won’t stop me.” Billie Dean winked playfully before eating a pretzel.

With a small smile, Wilhemina let out a chuckle. Billie Dean was so different from how she had first imagined she would be; she was honest and playful and overall, so nice to be around. I’m happy I took that job. To say her life had improved didn’t make it justice. “Fair enough,” she joked back. On the tiny screen in the seat in front of them, some random TV show played. None of them paid much attention to it.

“How’s Purpura?” The question got Billie Dean a noticeable smile from Venable. I’m getting good at it. It was a huge contrast from how their conversations initially went.

“Oh, she’s doing fine. Thank you.” One of Wilhemina’s hands played with the fabric of her coat in absent patterns. “I’m moisturizing her skin tomorrow.”

Billie Dean frowned. “I didn’t know you had to do that.”

“Most people don’t,” Venable said, not in a tone of superiority but one of true comprehension. In the back of her mind, she remembered how it was when she had discussed that same subject with Emma. “Because her breed has no fur, she needs a few special treatments… moisturizer, clothes, sunscreen, baths more frequently…”

It was always sweet to watch Wilhemina talk about Purpura. Billie Dean knew shit about cats, but she suddenly felt herself wanting to know everything Venable wanted to share about them. “I had no idea. That’s so interesting.”

“I don’t know if that’s the correct word, but it is something,” Wilhemina let out a small laugh.

Softly, Billie Dean chuckled back. “How old is she?”

“She’s seven. I got her from an illegal breeder… reported him right after.”

“That’s sweet… was she alright when you got her?”

“Not really, no.” Wilhemina reached for her phone in her pocket and scrolled through her pictures. She found a very old one of a tiny, malnourished and sick looking Purpura; her skin was all flaky and reddish. “Here’s the day I got her.” She showed it to Billie Dean, who leaned closer to look at it.

With a frown, Billie ate another pretzel. “She was so tiny… poor thing.”

Wilhemina nodded and found another picture; Purpura now looked better, already in a healthy weight and with her skin as glorious as Billie Dean remembered it being. “Here’s only a month after I got her.”

“Such a difference… only a month?” It was nearly magical to be loved; Billie Dean had always known that.

“Yes, only a month.” Wilhemina put her phone away, and Billie Dean leaned back against her seat. “She’s been my best friend ever since.”

“I see that.” Once again, Billie Dean smiled, sweet and genuine. They were together for almost an hour now, and Wilhemina hadn’t asked her a single question about her show, or her status. Even her family did so, but not Wilhemina. Refreshing.

“Do you have any pets?” Venable allowed herself to ask.

Billie Dean shook her head. “Unfortunately. I’m just so busy all the time, it wouldn’t be fair for an animal to depend on me.” Wilhemina nodded; it was good to see Billie was responsible towards that subject. It was something that mattered to her. “But I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“Any breed in specific?”

“Not really. I love mutts.”

“Mutts?” Wilhemina opened a smile. “Me too.”

“They’re adorable, and usually so loving.” Billie Dean kept on smiling. “But it’s just not fair for me to get a dog right now… maybe in the future, when things are calmer.” Once again, Venable nodded. It was sad how much Billie Dean worked; she barely had time for herself. Wilhemina appreciated working, but even she knew when it was too much.

“I get that… that’s part of the reason why I have a cat. When I adopted Purpura, I felt really alone, but I was still working a lot,” Venable explained. It was Billie Dean’s time to nod, and even though she said nothing, Wilhemina watched the way her eyes began to get heavy. She’s tired. Just as the thought crossed her mind, Billie let out a yawn.

“Sorry—“ Billie Dean was quick to cover her mouth.

Wilhemina shook her head. “You should rest.”

“Are you alright to be alone?” Yes, Venable wouldn’t be alone; but she would be with her thoughts.

Billie Dean cared… it was still weird to accept that. “I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” A small smile settled on Wilhemina’s lips.

“Okay, then.” Billie Dean smiled back. She reached for Venable’s hand once again, tangling their fingers before leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes. Wilhemina stared at their intertwined fingers; how come it came so naturally to Billie Dean? What are we even doing?

#ahs #fanfiction #lesbian fanfic #lesbian #lesbian story #lesbian fanfiction #fanfic #ahs roanoke #Would you Swallow all your Pride?#Billie Dean Howard x Wilhemina Venable #billie dean howard #wilhemina venable #rabexxpaulson #american horror story

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true-blue-sonic · 1 year

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Happy birthday, @xxlea-nardoxx!🥳❤ Here’s your TMNT AU fic! ^-^

Title: How Sleep Is Don

Word count: 2124

Summary: Usually Donnie prefers to work on his inventions in peace when it is late at night, but having his dimensional counterpart pay a visit to his lab isn’t so bad, either.

The evening hours are usually when Donnie scrapes together enough solitude to work on his inventions in peace.

His brothers and their guests have already gone to bed, some time ago. Mikey had scampered off first this night, bullied gently by the older ones so he’d stop hogging the television and eventually deciding to call it a day once it had become clear his taste in goggle-boxing was left unshared this time. Their guests had had strong opinions about which program to watch once the screen had been freed, which had slowly phased out or switched to other ideas as the clock ticked onwards, and eventually they’d all crashed in exhaustion too and gone off to sleep as well. Leo and Raph had been soon to follow after a final argument about Leo’s favourite show, which Donnie had wisely not mingled in, and as the final bickers between the two had died down as they readied themselves for sleep also the genius turtle had snuck away towards his laboratory.

He’s got more than enough to work on throughout any other day to begin with, let alone now with all the new information and data and trinkets their guests have brought along with them.

“Easy now,” Donnie mutters to himself in the silence of the laboratory, screwdriver in one hand and tiny gadget pinched between thumb and pointer finger of the other. Just some minor repairs on some piece of technology owned by one of their dimension-hopping counterparts, hardly important or revolutionary enough for him to truly pay attention to what he is doing. A menial little task that is nice to occupy himself with and use to tire out his mind before sinking into sleep’s embrace...

Though, he cannot tell himself said mind is as fresh as it always is as his deliberate movements hitch and the device slips just barely from his grasp, and the screw jolts out of its destined spot and clatters right onto the ground.

“Ah, crud,” slips past Donnie’s lips before he can help it, screwdriver ricocheting off the table next as he flings himself onto the ground after the little metal object. He needs that...! But his room is dark and underneath his desk is only darker, the turtle grimacing as he feels around blindly with his hand. Where did the wretched thing go-?

Something sharp jabs his hand, of course when he’s patting his fingers in the furthest most invisible reaches away from him. “There,” Donnie smiles all the same, clasping his hand around his find. Awkwardly he shuffles back, half-leaning up already to rise himself up on his legs once more...

Before the silence in his laboratory gets broken by a muffled thud! outside, which gets promptly followed by a second one as Donnie jumps like a startled cat at the noise.

“Ouch!” Hand grasping his head where it banged right into the underside of his desk Donnie grimaces, scrambling back. “What the-?!” is spat into the darkness, hand grasping for the turtle’s weapon as the metal door to his lair slowly opens and a beam of light falls onto his floor...!

“Sorry,” a timid voice pipes up from just outside his vision. “I tripped. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“You- Don!” Donnie realises, the door sliding open further to reveal his dimensional counterpart. And indeed, the other is rubbing his head just like Donnie himself is, face pained and eyes narrowed. By the way he pulls with his leg before awkwardly placing it on the ground once more and straightening it out, the older genius can easily discern it caught on something...

Like the stairs just outside the lab they keep warning their guests about, and Donnie can only sigh. “Did you not turn on the light while making your way here?”

“Nope,” the prompt response comes, Don half-limping inside and shutting the door as quietly as possible again- which, considering it is made of metal and clanks against the wall to close, is not all that subtle. “I, ah... was afraid the others would wake up. Everyone else is fast asleep,” the younger turtle adds, the door studied for a moment before he turns away in full to shoot Donnie a smile. Which tells the latter all he needs to know; if the way his counterpart comes skittering towards him next is any indication, contrary to everyone else he is wide awake. That only makes it more surprising to see the other in Donnie’s laboratory; he’s still recovering from his injuries sustained when arriving here, and with a firm bedrest imposed by his brothers on top. So far Don has not been allowed to traverse much of the sewers on his own; probably why he is showing up here at this time now and with everyone else in bed, Donnie realises.

A little chuckle follows from the younger turtle, leaning closer to flick on a light on Donnie’s desk and giggling as the older turtle pulls a face. “What’s wrong? You can’t work like that in the dark, you will ruin your eyes,” the teasing statement follows. “Your Leo won’t allow it.”

“Leo sits not even half a meter away from the television when watching his shows, he’s got nothing on me,” Donnie huffs back. The gadget grasped once more and the screwdriver retrieved from the ground from where it fell in all the chaos – and it is easier to see, even if he will never admit so out loud – the genius returns to the small screw he’d been fiddling with, two eyes burning into his shell and Don’s fidgeting somewhat distracting behind him.

“Are you not gonna ask why I’m here?” eventually pipes up behind him, Donnie merely humming.

“I presume you can’t sleep and were too restless to stay in bed so you decided to go out and explore.”

“...Yep, and a little bit.”

His counterpart is the most skittish of the bunch of brothers and not the one most inclined to go out to map out the sewers, but he gets into enough trouble all the same, Donnie muses. Well, he’s busy enough as it is; restlessness leading to shenanigans is nowhere to be found on his to-do list. “And now you need me to help you with the former,” he notes. “If anything, I’m not helping with the latter; I have things to do.”

Shooting a look of seriousness over his shoulder Donnie can only raise an eyebrow at the curious look on Don’s face. “That’s fine. But you’re not sleeping either. What are you even working on?”

“Repairing that phone of yours you dropped the other day. It should work even better than before,” Donnie informs him, nodding approvingly over his shoulder at the other... and blinking as Don comes scrambling closer, though instead of taking the gadget and studying it like he’d expected the smaller turtle grasps his hand and gives it a tug instead.

“That’s nice, but should you really work on it this late? It’s already after twelve.”

Merely humming at the other’s concern Donnie shrugs, undoing the hold on his limb. “It’s one of the few moments where I can work without getting interrupted, or bonked by a wooden staff, or forced into some crazy ninja world-saving scheme.” And sure, working like this mayhaps is bad for his sleeping schedule, but he doesn’t exactly have time during the day to work on such small things inbetween the dozens of other, much more grander and important tasks he does while the sun is up in the world above the sewers.

“You can’t work properly if you don’t sleep enough,” the response promptly comes, as if Don has read his mind.

Another hum following Donnie shoots his counterpart a smile he only realises is tired by the way his face hurts as he pulls it, and he also hadn’t noticed how his hand is rubbing underneath his eye until stars have basically swarmed his vision. “You can’t heal properly if you don’t sleep enough, and now you’ve got another bruise on top,” Donnie quickly switches the topic all the same. “You must be careful-”

A pouting squeak interrupts him. “Not my fault you’ve got stairs leading up to your room.”

“It’s not, but-”

“And I guess walking back to where I usually sleep will be irresponsible, so... I think I’mma just stay here, huh?”

“...What,” Donnie retorts flatly, over the quickly-growing cheeky smirk of his counterpart.

Gesturing to the side Don studies the dinky old sofa pushed against one wall of the laboratory. “Do you sleep here? You got a couch. With lots of blanket and pillows!”

“Well, often, but-”

“Alright!” And promptly Donnie’s arm is grasped next, though the taller turtle can dig his heels into the ground and prevent himself from being dragged away a fraction of a second before he gets flung face-first into the pile of blankets.

“Wait a minute!” he cries, sputtering madly. “I don’t have time for this, I need to repair your gadget! And some things from your brothers, too! And my own broke some stuff this morning, I need to look into that, and then the television could use some calibrating, and-!”

“Donnie,” his reasoning gets interrupted, “when were you planning on sleeping tonight?”

“...After all that is finished?”

Despite being the older one here, Donnie can only swallow at the unimpressed look sent his way. “Alright, to the couch with you,” Don dryly states, heaving right on his arm- and, to the injured turtle’s credit, it does make Donnie stumble a little bit despite him being prepared for the assault now. If anything, it only makes Don tug harder. “You have- to- sleep...!”

“...You will not let me go until I do, right?” Sighing deeply in defeat Donnie relaxes his tense muscles keeping him rooted on the spot. “Alright, alright, go lay down there. I’ll join.” And sneak away the moment Don has fallen asleep to go back to his list of tasks, he mentally adds, even if he keeps his lips firmly pressed together regarding that topic as the smaller turtle squeals.

“Okay! Come on!!”

Getting pushed right into the pillows and blankets of his couch, placed there by his brothers once they realised he preferred staying in his lap as opposed to trekking back to his bedroom each night, Donnie merely sighs at his counterpart’s fussing. “Will you go to sleep too?” he shoots back over the other’s delighted rummaging and fiddling with the soft fabrics. “You’re the one injured here.”

“And you’re the one exhausted and not sleeping enough,” the cheeky retort comes, Don fluffing the pillows once more and drawing a final blanket over them both.... before flopping right on top of Donnie’s plastron, the older turtle’s breath wheezing in his chest at the weight. And Don does not get off...

“Uh,” Donnie coughs, squirming uncomfortably. “Are you... going to be staying there?” Because if he is, then...!

“You’re comfy.” Shimmying down Don shoots him a little smile. “I can sleep like this. G’night.”

“Wh- You can’t just cuddle with me like that!” Donnie protests, though if the way Don grins and stretches himself out elaborately is any indication it is clear his younger counterpart is not listening. “Get off!” the ninja turtle protests all the same, weakly fussing before freezing. Don is still injured, he can’t just kick the other to the ground and make his wounds worse by accident...!

Don clearly knows that too, eyes closed all but mockingly and the occasional squeak or whine following as Donnie tries to push him aside. Which are... honestly quite grating, and thus in some horrid way that makes Donnie frown also very successful in stopping him right in his turtle-removing tracks. Plus, Don’s breaths are already deepening, one arm loosely wrapped around Donnie’s side and his forehead snugly pressing against Donnie’s cheek... “Fine,” the latter eventually concedes in a grumble, Don’s grin only growing. “But only for tonight. And I’m not repairing your broken phone first thing tomorrow, that’s for the next night I have some time off.”

“We’ll be here a while anyway,” Don murmurs, a huge yawn following; and Donnie can tell that one is genuine. And wrapping his arm around the other in return and giving him some awkward pats and staring up at the ceiling in the meantime definitely does seem to be doing more to quiet his mind than his work did...

Maybe having Don check up on him once every few days will be good for his sleeping schedule and work alike.

And with that thought Donnie’s breaths deepen too, until eventually he feels the weight on his plastron no more and his vision of the ceiling above with Don half in view is replaced by soothing black.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #donnie tmnt #tmnt au #blue's writing #title picked after long discussions with Lea about it after which we decided a pun would be top-tier :>

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