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danketsuround · 4 months

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sunday six :]

LONG TIME NO SEE i didn't write at all during my long vacation. but i have something for you this time. it's early in most of ur timezones but i'll tag you anyways @four-white-trees @passthroughtime @c-cw-f-saeko @futilecombat @fire-tempers-steel @overdevelopedglasses (i might have forgotten some people it's been too long TT)

here is a one shot that is an extension of my recent fic (thought you don't need to read that for context lol) in which kuwana shares an awkward beer with mitsuru's father. it's a bit longer than what i usually post so if you want a link i also posted it on my privatter (https://privatter.net/p/10683758) but if you don't mind reading it on tumblr you can check it out under the cut. bye!

His father, a high-bred accountant, a former bank teller, was not as reserved as he had been described. He must have sweated his hairline back three centimeters, and worked as hard as any man at a desk could. He clacked on the ordering screen like a keyboard, pressing hard and fast like there were motors in his fingers.

Kuwana was amazed at his speed, his slick-backed greying hair and the shilling way he spoke about normal things. From there he concluded that Mitsuru was born from a growth on Reiko's side--not an ounce of his father was within him.

"Cheers," the father named Jiro said, raising his mug high. "To better health."

Kuwana was late to clink, and bashfully congratulated the air instead.

"Cheers."

"It's nice being back in Yokohama." He lived in central Tokyo now, alone, in an apartment that probably had windows for walls. "I heard they've got nice Chinese food here."

"That's right."

"Mm," he gulped. "Bet you'll miss it."

"I'm sure they have good Chinese food in Ehime."

"Maybe orange chicken!" Jiro's laughter was pointed by a snap and another gulp. He rattled the too-small table with his cross-legged knee. It wasn't that funny, but Kuwana offered him a polite smile.

Between his laughter and the dead silence of the settling table, he seemed to stop and think.

"Reiko is really going to jail, huh."

There was probably a softer image of her still buried somewhere in his mind; one that was pregnant-bellied with swollen feet and that weird post-vomit glow new mothers get. Kuwana only encountered remnants of her motherhood in the rare moments she smudged food off his face or pointed out his shoes were untied--when she said things like "My baby" in a voice that was much smaller than her own.

It was natural that their divorce ended in some anger. Kuwana remembered her twisting her ring around her finger anxiously like it was hot, talking about how they decided to separate the night he couldn't make it to their son's first graduation; how those bimonthly dad weekends were a blessing he often rejected; how she was jealous of how quickly he fell out of love with her and how he could sleep around without worrying about cooking dinner for a picky child. Surely those things rang true and terribly in her mind, like how her distant gaze and sharp tongue rang in his. But it was across the table, there, that Mr. Kusumoto crumpled his pale drunken face like paper and really thought about what kind of woman she truly was, like it had suddenly occurred to him that he was on-paper divorced for a spit over a decade. Then, perhaps he was trying to imagine his ex-wife with a knife in her hand, and he was failing.

"I can't wrap my head around it," Jiro spoke again when Kuwana didn't answer. "Why would she do something so terrible?"

"She's not a monster," he defended her quietly.

"Tell that to the human popsicle they buried last month!" He laughed again. He punched back his beer and the remaining foam bubbled over his shaven face. His hand predictably hit the table again. "For the record, that kid could rot in hell for all I care, for what he did to my son!" Then the bottom of his mug nearly cracks, and his voice gets low and somber and suddenly thoughtful again. "Why her? Out of all people, her?"

Suddenly Kuwana felt on trial. He realized there was nothing he could say to make Jiro understand, so he shrugged and answered, "Revenge?"

"Some revenge!" He ordered two beers on the keypad without looking. "A high school drop out working in the red light district--he would've been dealt with in an alley without her, had she given it some time, some thought!"

Kuwana pedantically thought of revenge as being more hands-on. Their beers arrived, but he was still finishing his first.

"Selfish woman," he spat, and motioned a short defeated cheers with his drink out of habit. "Stupid, selfish woman. Had she really given up on our poor son so quickly, that revenge was the only answer?"

Kuwana's eyes hit the ceiling. He thanked it that Reiko wasn't there to watch him absorb and swallow the insults hurled towards her.

"You look troubled," Jiro observed.

"I guess."

"Did I upset you, new friend?"

He winced. "No."

Jiro's mouth hit his hands. He said something that sounded like, "Dybulycareouter?"

Kuwana lifted his head. "What?"

"Do you really care about her?"

"Yes." He answered too quickly, then cleared his throat. "Yes, I do."

Jiro crossed his arms. There Mitsuru was, a little. "Are you one of those people?"

Kuwana assumed he was talking about the small cult following Reiko accumulated after her televised confession--a group of housewives and single fathers who believed she had done nothing wrong, and, paradoxically, theorized she had been forced to confess to cover up an even larger scandal within the Ministry of Health. He changed the channel any time one of them was stupidly given a podium and a camera--walked a little faster when he saw an apron-adorned woman trying to turn on a megaphone--for his own sanity.

"No," he answered. "We've just known each other for a while."

"That's right." Jiro pointed at him sharply, like he was trying to pin down their connection once more. "How long have you known her, again?"

"A while," Kuwana dodged.

"That's vague," he groaned. "After we divorced?"

"She was wearing a ring when we met."

Jiro took a hurried sip of his drink.

"I ought to reach over this table and smack you."

Kuwana slowly finished his.

"It wasn't like that."

But just then in his mind, he could see the indent of a ring on her finger--and some other residues of motherhood, like the C-section scar on her belly--from long ago. Reiko's unfaithfulness might have been the least surprising thing about it all--next to Kuwana's willingness to participate.

"At least you're honest." Jiro sighed, though his face looked like he knew he wasn't, and that he didn't care. "You and Mitsuru will be on the road soon, right?"

"Soon enough." Kuwana bowed a little. "If I'm quick, we can leave Yokohama next month. We'll practically be chasing her down."

"There's no rush," he said wisely. "She'll be there whether you leave next month or next year."

"That's true, but."

"Have you ever been married?"

Kuwana shook his head.

"I guess you've never had kids before, then."

"I can't."

"It's about as fun as it looks." His eyebrows twisted and he gave a sly wink. "In other words, not fun at all."

"So?" Kuwana couldn't tell if he was feeing impatient or jealous.

"So, so, so..." He chewed his lips in thought. "So, I guess, silver lining: you're lucky you have a choice. Though, I'm not sure why you would choose it, when you can live as a free man."

He thought about how much he hated being so free. It felt like his existence was bragging. He'd be better off confessing in the aquarium window of a koban than across the table from the ex-husband of a woman that should have avoided him.

"Because I've never done it before?" he answered instead.

Kuwana watched his expression change in real time. Jiro's face was all twisted up in annoyance before his answer. He laughed instead. In his own mind he thought it was out of pity, but it was really shock. He knew this when it was followed by a gasp.

"Cheers!" He got so loud that everything quieted around them. It was unsavory to cheers with a half-empty mug with yakitori backwash, but less unsavory when it was half-full. He lifted his mug in a way that beckoned Kuwana to lift his as well. "To new things!"

"Cheers." It connected.

#i cant believe i finally have an rgg oc and its some absent father of a character who has 3 minutes of screentime #please understand my orange chicken joke #ITSCAUSEEHIMEISFAMOUSFORORANGES #sunday six

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luimagines · 3 years

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It’s late. I should be asleep. *promptly types this in your inbox* For the Vai Clothes Anons, our dear beloved mod; Pinky and for every Twilight Simp out there. *blows kiss* Ignore all the copious self indulgence.

He hadn’t meant to. He really really really hadn’t meant to.

It all started with those awful wonderful vai clothes Wild had lent out. He hadn’t known you were changing behind that tree, he swears. All he knew was you were standing behind the tree, there was a brief rustle of fabric and a flash of skin before he whipped his head away from you so fast, his neck cracked.

“Wolfie? Are you ok?” He’d barely heard you ask, mind too occupied by the flash of soft skin he’d seen.

He shook his head and planted himself with his back to you to give you privacy. It was an accident, was all. No need to get worked up.

Later, Twilight would pin point that moment as the exact moment Hylia or Farore or some other deity had decided to take notice of his embarrassment and laugh.

———

The next time he saw more of you than you intended was when it was just you and him in wolf form. Monster guts had spilt all over your tunic and you plucked at it in disgust. Twilight had been too busy sniffing the air to really take any concern over it when he heard more fabric slid and a wet thump.

He turned his head on instinct and found you with both your over tunic and under tunic off and miles of soft, delicate skin on display for him. He could see the muscle move as you crouched over you bag and pulled out another set of tunics. You looked up and grinned at him.

Twilight felt faint as you approached him and ruffled the fur between his ears.

“Well done. You are such a good boy. Just let me put this on and we’ll go find the others. I bet you don’t want a super stinky friend travelling with you.” You said, a soft coo in your voice.

It took all the strength he had to turn away from the bare belly right in front of his nose and pretend to be interested in a tree as you put your tunics back on.

He had to take some very deep breaths and didn’t make eye contact with you that night when he was back on two legs.

———

The third time was his own fault admittedly. Twilight had gotten distracted with playing in the shallows of a slow river while taking a moment to himself. It was nice travelling in a group but he needed a minute or two to himself every so often as they all did.

“Having fun, lovely?” An amused voice called out and he nearly tripped over his own paws when he saw you with your boots off nearby.

Once recovered, he barked happily and splashed some more in the shallows. He was just a happy Wolfie right now. Nothing to see here, nope. (He knew none of the others in the know would ever let him live it but it was making you smile and that was enough.)

Just as he got deep enough to cover his legs without going swimming, he was suddenly splashed from an unexpected source.

Snapping his fangs in surprise, he turned to face whatever it was and was once again greeted with soft bare skin. Only this time the only thing he couldn’t see was the really important bits still covered by your underwear.

Oh sweet Farore, grant him strength. You were in your underwear.

You laughed, bright and loud, and he swore the sun grew brighter for it. But still that was a lot of skin.

You splashed him again and Twilight prayed he could focus on the emerging splash fight and less on the fact he could see exactly how much the sparring practice with the others was effecting you.

He barely spoke to you that night.

———

The last time was the final straw. You had gone missing for half an hour and while Time hadn’t been worried, merely giving his protégé a smug look, Twilight had shifted and gone looking for you.

Big mistake. Big big big mistake.

He found you.

You were fine. Perfectly fine!

You were also very very very naked.

Naked and wet.

Did he mention you were naked?

Of course most people are naked and wet when they bathe. That’s how it done.

But you were very very naked and that was a lot of bare skin and he’s never seen your hair flat like that and oh Hylia, kill him now, was that your-

“Wolfie!” You cried in glee.

Twilight startled so hard, he tripped on his paws and fell into the little pond with you. There was a moment of shock and water before strong arms wrapped themselves around him and helped him back on to the bank.

“Wolfie?! Are you okay, lovely? It’s okay. It’s okay.” Hands ran down his back as he hacked up the small amount of water he’d inhaled. He looked up and choked again. You were out of the water, on full display and looking very worried.

Twilight made the tactical decision there and then. He ran back to camp and refused to speak to anyone for the rest of the day.

———

You were ignoring him. He’d hadn’t notice for a few days, but the image of you bathing was just starting to fade and he felt like he could actually talk to you again without that being his first thought when he’d finally noticed you not making eye contact.

You avoided him for the whole day, ducking into other conversations and weaving though the group. You even risked egging an argument with Legend to avoid him and that’s when Twilight realised.

You knew.

———

“Can I talk to you?” It took Twilight all the courage he had (and some not so little encouragement from Wild, Time and Warriors of all people) and spoke to you that night.

You blinked up at him startled, your bright eyes shining from the lamplight. Eyes that adverted quickly.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“Privately. Please.” He clenched his fists, opening and closing them nervously.

The movement caught your eye and you reluctantly got to your feet, trailing after him out of the inn they were stay at in the middle of nowhere and behind the building that backed into the forest. It was a full moon and clear so he could still see your face.

You both stood in silence before you opened your mouth. “Twi, wha-“

I am so sorry!!!” He burst out. He couldn’t take it any more. He hadn’t meant to and now you’d figured it out and thought he was a pervert! (A part of him wondered why it was the pervert thing the worried him more than the shadow magic discovery thing).

You jumped. “What?”

He buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for it to happen! I swear! I tried to look away and give you privacy each time!”

You frowned in confusion and you reached out to pull his hands away from his face. “What are you-“

“The fact I saw you naked! I saw you bathing and that time with the monsters and the vai clothes and when we had a splash fight and you were naked and I saw.” He let you pull his hands away only to run it through his hair and tug on it.

You froze. “Twilight. The only one who was there for all that was Wolfie. How’d you… Sweet Courage! You’re Wolfie?!??”

Twilight froze as well as you gaped at him. Ah. “You didn’t know?”

“No!”

Twilight swallowed heavily. So you hadn’t avoided him cause you found out he was Wolfie. Not that that mattered any more cause you did now.

“I’m sorry.” He said weakly. You just stared at him. “I really am! It’s just you were alway so happy to see me and I like your smile and your really attractive and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that no matter how much I liked looking and, oh Farore that makes it sound worse and I just really like…” he started to ramble, the words just spilling all over the place as he foolishly confessed every though he’d had about you from your utterly adorable bed head to the way you smiled to your wonderful personality.

Eventually, you pressed a hand over his mouth. “So you’re Wolfie.”

He nodded. Goddesses he hoped you could still be friends. He’d had his heart broken once, twice would be fine. He’d be fine.

“You liked seeing me naked.”

Again he nodded. He slumped down. There was no way you’d want to stay friends with him now. Who’d want to be friends with a pervert anyway?

The hand moved from his mouth, trailing lightly across his lips, down his neck and rested on his collar. He looked up and saw determination written all over your face with a dark look in your eyes.

“Well then. I hope you don’t mind if the reverse happens at some point.” You plucked daringly at the collar. “After all, I want to see if my dreams were right about you.” It wasn’t darkness in your eyes, it was heat.

Heat Twilight felt fill his own expression as his confidence soared. His hands carefully rested on your waist and he felt the soft skin he’d been dying to sink his teeth into ever since that day with the vai clothes.

“Oh and Twi.”

He was a little focused on the fact you’d slipped his hands over his shoulders and were squeezing them.

Your expression softened although the heat stayed. “I like you too.”

He couldn’t help himself and pulled you flush against him, growling.

Your eyes blew wide with heat and surprise. You pressed firmly against him and started breathing heavily as you clutched his biceps and oh, this was going to be fun.

I have no words.

Insanity.

Truly.

You've killed me.

#pinky replies #I've got to add them to the master list now...#but I think I might have hit a link limit #because secrets part 2 won't work....#help

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milazka · 4 years

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Distraction — Drew Starkey.

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where the quaterback of the football team helps you forget about your bad grade.

request: yes

content: fluff & smut

author’s note: it’s my very first story about a member of the cast of outer banks! i would like to clarify that all this is fictional, i only use the looks and the names of the actors and actresses. my masterlist will be linked at the end of this story if you feel like reading some other fics. this one is for my babe cort ( @pogue-writings ) because she is drew’s soulmate.

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word Count: 1957.

The campus library has always been her favorite spot to study. It's quiet and the atmosphere is always soothing, the exact opposite of her dorm room where her roommate seems more interested in experimenting the male anatomy than studying it in her textbook. A few weeks ago, after catching her once again during the act, she had decided to find a new place to study. She had walked around the campus and eventually found this spot around one of the large hardwood tables that stand between the bookshelves full of old books about psychology. The perfect place to set her in a study mood.

For the past few hours, she has been sitting in her usual place, her textbook open in front of her eyes and her black notebook on her right. She only has one midterm left in two days and it will cover all the topics seen in her subconscious psychology course, which is one of her most interesting courses, but also the one that requires the longest hours of study in order to pass the exams.

The sound of a chair gliding on the floor makes her look up and she’s surprised to see Drew, a boy from her psychology of the subconscious class, sit on the chair in diagonal to her. Normally, the library is almost empty at this time of the night and she never saw him here; he seems like the kind of guy who spends more time on the football field than he does in front of his textbooks. They’ve been in the same class for four months, but she never really paid attention to him, except when he is disturbing the class with the two other musketeers, Chase and Rudy. She smiles nicely at him when their eyes meet and he raises his coffee cup which he pretends to drink all at once while they both laugh silently, hoping not to be warned by Mrs. Jones, the librarian who looks strangely similar to Roz from the movie Monster inc.

She tries to put her nose back in her book, trying to focus on the pages suggested in the study guide and highlighting important sentences from a passage about Freud and his discovery of psychoanalysis, but she can't help but look up discreetly at the boy. He is wearing a navy flannel shirt which, half-buttoned, reveals a white shirt that moulds his muscular chest. His trademark cap, which he always wears backwards, rests as usual on the top of his head, still letting a few strands of hair slip out of the hat. She particularly lingers on his muscled arms covered by the navy blue cloth, it's not surprising that he's the quarterback on the football team. The studious look on his face and the way he’s chewing on the tip of his pencil while frowning makes him look cuter than usual, she can’t deny it.

When she sees the lateness of the hour, she delicately puts her books back in her red bag, not noticing how intensely the boy is staring at her. He simply can't help but admire her sweet angelic face, her tired-looking little eyes, the thin, shiny layer of lip balm covering her lips that he would dream of kissing; he likes everything about her and cannot help but smile foolishly.

“Hey Y/n,” he whispers, catching her attention. “Me and the boys are throwing a party friday night, you should come.”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she smiles at him, noticing his blushing cheeks and the little spark in his gaze.

“Great! Good luck on your exam.”

“Good luck to you too. I’ll see you friday.”

─── °• ❀ ───

The room goes from purple to blue, then from blue to pink, courtesy of the spotlights that change the colour of the room's luminosity along the rhythm of the music. The parties hosted by the university football team always do justice to their reputation, no matter what’s the occasion. It's not the first time she attends one, but it's the first time she’s been invited by the quarterback. Her mind did not stop playing back the memory of the little sparkle in the young man's eyes when she had accepted his invitation. Maybe it meant nothing, but a part of her wants to believe it didn't. Plus, she really needs to take her mind off things after receiving her mediocre grade from the last exam. She knew her teacher was strict, but not this strict.

As she makes her way through the dancing crowd, an arm slips around her naked shoulders, making her startles. She's used to being approached by boys at parties, but she hates it when they think they can do anything and touch her even if she doesn't want to. Looking up, she loosen up when she sees Drew's familiar face smirking at her and she's glad it's not a drunk who's asking her to blow him.

“I'm so glad you came,” he says to her as he hands her a red cup filled with beer. “How did your exam go?”

She pouts, taking a big sip of the golden liquid that tickles her throat.

“Really bad.”

“That sucks,” she raises an eyebrow at the boy as when he takes back the cup that he just gave her and drops it on the countertop behind him. “C’mon, I have the perfect remedy for a bad grade.”

Drew takes her tiny hand into his big one, guiding her to the backyard where several tables are set up to play beer pong. Small lights illuminate the yard where games have already started. People cheer each other up and yell like crazy when someone manage to get the ball in a cup. She recognizes Rudy’s familiar blond hair when he jumps into Jonathan's arms and she deduces they just won their game against Madison and Austin. Everyone laughs when the two boys lose their balance and crash into the grass, grunting at each other. Her hand is still holding Drew's firmly when he walks up to Chase who is sitting in a chair close to the fire pit with his girlfriend on his lap, grilling and eating marshmallows.

“Yo Chase! Me and Y/n vs Maddie and you?” Drew challenges his friend, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Game on, baby!” Chase exclaims as they both stand up and follow them to the table.

She and Drew make a fire team, throwing a series of winning shots and gradually getting Madelyn and Chase drunk. All the way through the game, she never worries about her bad grade, it's like it never existed. The alcohol in her bloodstream seems to be opening her eyes to Drew's attractiveness. The girl never really paid attention to how he is totally her type of guy. She bites her lower lip, obviously checking him out when he pulls off his hoodie and his shirt comes up, revealing the prominent V-shape above the hem of his pants.

“Like what you see, don't ya?” he teases the girl, an irresistible smile on the corner of his lips.

She blushes up to her ears, making Drew laugh, and he just adds to her embarrassment by putting his arm around her shoulders before throwing the last ball who lands directly into the last standing cup. Maybe it's the emotion of the moment for her, whereas he's been dreaming about it for months, but their eyes meet each other and suddenly their lips collide. The kiss doesn't last long, not long enough in his opinion. The flight of butterflies in the young woman's belly doesn't disappear when their lips separate, she needs to kiss him again, to feel him touch her.

“I need you, Drew.” she whines close to his ear, making his heart skips a beat. "God, Y/n," he breaths out, pulling her closer to him. "Do you know how long I've been dreaming about you saying that to me?”

She just winks at him and grabs his hand, pulling him toward the front door as he pinches himself on the arm, not believing that this is really happening. He throws a murderous look at Rudy and Chase who make fun of him by pretending to make out sensually. They pass through the living room which is still full of people swinging their bodies to the rhythm of the music and climb upstairs where Drew guides them to his room. He slams her against the door, his hands grabbing her hips as he kisses her again. She bites his lower lip, making him growl against her mouth. Drew starts to place open mouthed kisses on her neck and she tiltes it to give him full access to her burning skin. He leads her to the bed, pinning her on the mattress and he removes her short as he is now hovering over her half naked body. His hand slides down her thigh, making her squirm under him as he gets closer to her core. He plays with the waistband of her panties, smirking against her lips.

“Drew,” she moans, looking at him with her eyes filled with desire. He grabs her waist and flip them over so she is now straddling him. She unbuttons his khaki shirt, slipping his hands over his muscular chest. She starts to grind down on his lap, making him whine and dig his fingers into her buttcheeks

“It's not about me tonight, I'm not the one who needs to be distracted.” he whispers to her ear before flipping her over again so that he is now hovering over her.

She lets out a few muffled moans as he leaves a trail of kisses between her breast and on her stomach. He sucks and nibbles at the skin on her inner thighs, only increasing her desire to feel him on her already wet womanhood.

“You’re so pretty, all wet and spread out like this, just for me.”

“Drew, please…” she begs, but he cuts her short by placing a kiss on her clit, slipping her underwear off. He places an open-mouthed kiss just above her wet folds, making her buck her hips up.

“So eager, baby, I like it.” he hums just above her bundle of nerves, sending vibrations on it. She runs her fingers through his light brown hair, pushing him closer to her heat. He finally licks a full stripe through her folds, making her back arch to the so desired feeling.

“Oh fuck,” she groans as he inserts one finger in her, his tongue sucking on her clit. His hands are firmly wrapped around her thighs to keep her spread open for him. She clenches the sheets between her fists, her eyes close under the wave of pleasure that runs through her body when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. His nose rubs up against her clit as he moves his face, pumping his tongue in and out of her.

“Fuck I’m so close, please don’t stop,” she moans, making him pumps his tongue faster. A few profanities mixed with loud moans leave her lips as she reaches her high, legs shaking on his shoulders. He licks her folds a few more times to clean her up, sending electric jolts through her body when he touches her sensitive nerves from the orgasm. He lies down beside her, pulling her towards him with his arms wrapped around her body.

“What about you? I’m no the type of girl who doesn’t give back,” she starts but Drew shushes her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure you’re not, but tonight it’s about you and only you.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect, y’a know?”

“It was about time you figured that out!” he mocks her and she giggles, burying her face further into the crook of his neck.

─── °• ❀ ───

mila’s masterlist

taglist (send me an ask if you want to be added)

@milaonthemoon @spilledtee @pogue-writings @thebutterflyonhischest @ilovejjmaybank @bananasfromtarget @drewstarkeyobx @void-maybank @prejudic3

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey smut #drew starkey au #drew starkey obx #drew starkey one shot #obx #outer banks #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x y/n #obx fic #obx fanfiction #drew starkey fic

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unsettledink · 4 years

Text

A Perfect Fit - Kinktober Day 10 (Old Adages 1)

A Perfect Fit

Prompt: Size Kink

Word Count: 6176

Summary: Tony had no idea what Beck had been hiding in his pants and that— that is a tragedy. Because Tony needs to be stuffed full of that right this second.

(size kink, dick size, dirty talk, insecurity, 20ish Quentin Beck, belly bulge, bottom!Tony)

(Look, I don't know how 'size kink' turned into a whole mess of insecurity and woes of having a big dick either, ok? I sorted it out by the end at least. Tony's not going to let it get in the way of a good fuck.)

Tony hadn't really expected anyone to be in lab eighteen-b at this time of night, but he'd had an idea and the things he needed were there and— it's his tower, he doesn't need to ask permission to go anywhere in it.

He hadn't expected anyone to be there, and he really hadn't expected to walk around the corner and come across one of his employees jerking off. Tony freezes, not even processing the sight for a second, and then his brain is noticing all the wrong things, like how hot the guy is, how nice his tiny little gasps sound, how fucking huge his cock is. It's got to be close to ten inches, maybe more, thick as fuck, and Tony can't look away. He's just— he's always liked them big. The bigger the better, and that, that is better.

The guy moans, faintly, and opens his eyes. Opens them even wider, comically so, when he realizes Tony's there, and then he jerks, his chair rolling back as he tries to cover himself. "Oh shit!" he yelps, and then he's spinning around, his back to Tony.

"Uh," Tony says.

"Oh god," the guy mutters, and it sounds like he's trying to stuff himself back in his pants. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, I— I didn't think, I mean I didn't— I shouldn't have— fuck!'

"Look," Tony says, "I wasn't trying to be a creeper, I just came down to get—" The guy turns around, and Tony should feel bad about the way his eyes immediately drop to the bulge at his crotch. The truly impressive bulge; that's got to be incredibly uncomfortable.

"Oh no," the guy says, and Tony looks at him— at his face. He looks familiar. "Fuck, you're Tony Stark," and Tony's obviously familiar to him. Tony narrows his eyes.

"Bank?" he tries. "Or— Deck? Something like that, right?" Handsome, whatever his name is, even if his face is bright, brilliant red, flushing all the way down his neck.

"Beck," the guy says, weakly. "Quentin Beck. I'm— shit, I'm sorry, I swear I don't— this isn't—" He rubs his hand over his face— not the one he was jacking off with, not that Tony notices. Not really. "Does this mean I'm fired?"

"What?" Tony says. "No, of course not," and the guy—Beck—glances over at him; wow, his eyes are a gorgeous shade of blue. No. Focus. "I mean, uh, don't do it again? Or be more careful about it next time? But jeez, I'm not going to fire you for that." Beck gives him a confused look, but his shoulders loosen a little. "Personally, this wouldn't exactly be my first choice for that sort of thing, unless you've got some sort of... lab setting kink? Is that a thing? That's probably a thing. But hey, who am I to judge, it's not like I haven't gotten off worse places."

"I don't— there's nothing hot about a lab," Beck mutters defensively. "I'm not into anything weird. I'm just— look, I'm always here and it's not like I have time to pick someone up and when I get home I'm dead on my feet, and I just, sometimes I have needs, okay?" He stops, flushing again. "Can you forget I said all of that?"

There's a point in that rambling explanation; if Beck's here at this hour, he practically lives here. "Sure," Tony says, absently. "Yeah, you're probably putting in a few too many hours. I can't really believe it'd be too hard for you to find a friend though. What with all your, ah, gifts."

"...thanks?" Beck says, frowning.

Tony blames his cock for what he says next. Or rather, Beck's cock, because he just can't get the image of it out of his mind. "You know," he adds, " you're definitely good looking and more than generously endowed, who's going to say no? I mean, it's not like I would mind a ride on that."

Beck stares at him, his mouth dropping open, and Tony replays those last couple of sentences in growing horror. "Shit," Tony says. "That's sexual harassment, isn't it. Pepper's going to murder me. Look, if you want to sue I can already tell you we'll settle easy. Well, not me, you know, lawyers, but seriously, don't let them try and shut you up for less than a couple hundred thousand."

"What," Beck says. "I— are you really telling me how to get the most money out of you if I sue?"

"Well... no?" Tony tries. "I mean, yes, I guess?" Fuck, he's completely lost track of this conversation. His mind is still just going 'but think of how it'd feel in your mouth, down your throat'.

"And you did say you'd want to— ride me? I heard that, right?"

Tony winces. "Yeah, you should probably forget I said that," he says. "Unless you don't want to? You know, suing. And. Stuff."

"I'm not going to sue," Beck says, watching him. There's a long, awkward pause, and damn, Beck's eyes really are pretty. "I— maybe I don't want to forget?"

He's blushing again, slowly creeping up. "Just so I'm clear," Tony says carefully. "You're saying you'd be... interested."

Beck licks his lips. "Yeah," he says.

Oh, goddamn, Tony thinks. This is absolutely a bad idea, but he's going to roll with it. He takes a step forward, and another, into Beck's space. Beck's a little taller than Tony; he catches the back of Beck's neck and pulls him in. Kisses him, a tentative brush of lips.

Beck's mouth opens under his when he presses a little more, his tongue sliding against Tony's, and yeah, Tony decides, he can work with this. "Right," Tony says. "We're going to need a bed. Come on."

The ride up to the penthouse should be awkward, but Beck pulls Tony right in against him, slides his hands up Tony's shirt and presses kisses all along Tony's neck, fantastic. Tony rubs forward, and he can feel Beck's dick, still at least half hard, all along his hip.

Beck was hot with his clothes on; without them, he's smoking. Sure, he's softer, not sporting a six pack or anything, but he's trim, broad shoulders and gorgeous waist and that cock— it really is a monster, just massive, and it's only getting bigger as Beck finishes getting hard, the sheer weight of it keeping it low, jutting out from his body. Tony's mouth is watering.

"Jesus," Tony mutters, giving Beck a little push toward the bed. "Take a look at that; bet you're popular when you find the time." Beck doesn't say anything as he sits on the bed, pushing himself further up, but his shoulders tense slightly. Ugh, Tony should probably watch his mouth a little. He's had a couple guys that hated feeling like all Tony wanted was their cock, had some sort of hangup about having more to offer than that. Obviously, but since Tony's never looking for something lasting with them what matters is what's about to split him open, not their winning personalities.

No point in getting into that with Beck though.

He crawls up between Beck's legs, settling on his elbows and leaning in, rubbing his face against Beck's cock. It's a nice cock, completely aside from the size, very pretty with a broad, defined head, flushed dark, not too veiny. He can't wait to get his tongue against it, sliding up under that ridge, tasting him. It’s going to make him drool like crazy, choke him, probably leave him voiceless for ages.

"Hey," Beck says. Tony glances up at him, mouth open against his cock. "You don't— you don't have to do that to get a fuck."

Tony raises an eyebrow. "And what if I just want to?" because it's not like he needs an excuse to want that thing in his mouth.

"I'm just—" Beck swallows as Tony licks him, and sure, it might be—is—a challenge but Tony's up for it. "Just saying," Beck finishes. "Don't expect to take that much of though. And don't expect me to come from it. It's fine if you want to skip to the main event."

"What, think I can't?" Tony says, and nuzzles down against the base of it; god it's <i>big.

"Most people can't," Beck says softly, like Tony is most people, please. "And I'd rather you don't throw up on it."

Tony snorts, but Beck's words don't match his tone. He pulls up enough to look at Beck, and it's unfair for him to have puppy dog eyes like that. He didn't expect Beck to be... hesitant. Most of the guys Tony’s been with that are anywhere near as hung as this are smug about— ha, cocky.

Beck twitches again when Tony kisses the side of his cock, makes his way slowly up the length of it before he licks across the tip. "I'm not skipping over anything," Tony says, "but we can come back to this. You obviously haven't had a blowjob from me."

That earns him a little huff, but those eyes are still watching him cautiously. Yeah, he can't have that. He crawls up over Beck and taps a finger under his chin, tilting his head back. Beck's almost passive, just waiting for Tony, his hands coming up to barely rest against Tony's sides.

Whatever Beck's thing about blowjobs is, kissing— kissing he has no problem with. Kissing he's fucking fantastic at. He doesn't have any hesitation here once he figures out what Tony likes and god, it's been a long time since Tony got this caught up in making out. Beck's mouth is reddened when Tony pulls back, his hair messier, falling out of that slicked back styling, and his eyes are darker, all big and blue and gorgeous.

Tony goes with it when Beck rolls him over, pins him down and goes right on with the kissing; he's got Beck's cock along his stomach, the full length of it pressed into his skin, and Beck starts making soft noises into his mouth when Tony shifts, rubs against it. He's going to feel stuffed full when it's in him— he can’t wait.

Beck shudders, dropping his head to Tony's shoulder, and then he's crawling back; shit, what now? Tony watches as Beck down out between Tony's legs, and while he's not going to say no to Beck's mouth on his cock, he wants to be able to feel Beck's again, wants that constant reminder of its sheer size. Beck's got his hands on Tony's thighs, pushing them up a bit and—

"Oh, fuck," Tony gasps. "God, yeah, that's— fuck," and looks like it doesn't matter what Beck's doing with it, his mouth is sinful.

Beck could eat him out for hours, Tony thinks, and that might just be his plan as it goes on and on. Tony's not complaining, not one bit, not as long as Beck keeps licking like that and pushing his tongue into Tony and moaning, muffled against Tony's ass. Not as long as he can keep his hand in Beck's hair, ruining it, keep pressing up against Beck's mouth; "Fuck," Tony mutters, "you're good at that."

There's a breath across his skin, a laugh. "You pick it up quick," Beck says, looking up at Tony, "when you need other ways to keep people happy." He's grinning, more than confident in this area— downright smug, and it's a distressingly good look on him.

He keeps that eye contact as he lowers his mouth again, pushing Tony's ass up a bit so he can watch Tony at the same time, and that is just too fucking much. Slides a finger into him, licking around it, and that is way, way too much, Tony pushing his head back into the bed, groaning as he stares up at the ceiling.

He couldn't have asked for a better way to be stretched open, couldn't have asked for someone more patient— excruciatingly patient. Sure, Tony was going to need some real work before he could take that monster, but Beck is going to kill him like this, taking his sweet time working his way up, sloppy and wet around his fingers the whole time.

"You've got actual lube somewhere, right?" Beck says breathlessly as he pulls back. Tony flaps a hand in the vicinity of the nightstand and Beck gets the idea. Comes back and slides his fingers right back in, big and warm and even slicker, leaning down and getting his mouth around Tony's cock.

"Oh, christ," Tony groans. "Don't you dare get me off like this. Wanna come on your cock, don't spoil it." Beck rolls his eyes, which should not be nearly that appealing even with his lips still on Tony's cock.

He doesn't, even if Tony feels like he's getting close a couple of times. Doesn't, and doesn't move on from his slow, lazy fingering either; Tony feels more than ready, soft and loose around Beck's fingers. "Enough," he says, finally. "I'm good, I'm more than ready. Come on, give it to me."

"Okay, okay," Beck huffs, and Tony feels like he's gaping open without Beck's fingers in him. Beck shifts around on the bed, Tony pulling his legs up further as he hears the lube pop open again, hears the wet sounds of Beck slicking himself up. And then— then it's against him, the head of Beck's cock pressing gently at Tony's hole, catching it before thrusting up the cleft of Tony's ass. Fuck, it's huge, probably the biggest Tony's ever had outside toys, and even if Beck's stretched him open to the point of obscenity it still might hurt.

He waits— and waits, and waits, Beck's hands spread wide over his thighs, his cock sliding back and forth long Tony's ass. "Quit teasing," Tony snaps.

There's nothing for a moment, another hesitation, and then a long, shaky exhale. "Right," Beck says, so quietly, and Tony glances up at him.

He doesn't look like he's having a good time, goddamnit. What is his problem? "What?" Tony asks, trying to soften it.

Beck drops his eyes, his hands tensing on Tony's thighs. Hesitates, keeps fucking hesitating. "Just," he says after a second, "this is usually where the fun part stops." He swallows, hard, breathing a little too fast. "Don't lie and say it's fine when it's not, okay? I'm not— if it fucking hurts, just—"

God, Tony feels like an ass.

He stares at Beck, at the tense set of Beck's jaw. He hadn't paid much mind to it till now, but Beck's young. Can't be much more than twenty-five, at most, and if he was a late bloomer—who's he kidding, Beck had to been a nerd—he probably hasn't done this a lot. Maybe hasn't had this go well a lot, and— what should Tony have expected, if most of Beck's partners have told him they weren't enjoying it anymore, or worse, lied about it when it had to be obvious they were hurting. If he’d wound up hurting some—any—of them, however unintentionally.

Beck's fingers are digging into Tony's thigh, hard, and he won't look at Tony's face, and— Tony doesn't like it when his partners aren't having fun either.

"Beck," he says, and Beck fucking flinches. He gets his hand around Beck's wrist and tugs. "Come here."

"Fuck," Beck whispers, closing his eyes, but he crawls up over Tony anyway. Sinks down when Tony pulls at him, and he's so tense, right on the edge of shaking when Tony wraps himself around him. "Shit," Beck mutters, pressing his forehead against Tony's shoulder. "I'm sorry— fuck, I'm sorry, just give me a minute." He takes a deep breath, obviously trying to pull it together, and obviously failing when it comes out shakier.

"Beck," Tony says again, soft, but Beck cuts him off.

"I know," he says. "I know, you were expecting a good time and I'm— goddammit," and Tony can feel his jaw clench. "I'll— just, tell me when it hurts, okay? I know you probably think it'll be fine, but— I don't want—"

Shit, Tony thinks; 'when' not 'if'. Someone's fucked this kid up. "Quentin," Tony says, softer, sliding his hand up into Beck's hair. "Take a minute and just breathe."

Beck laughs, ugly. "This is the part where you tell me it's fine, there's other things to do, you're not disappointed," he says. "That I'm good with my mouth, so a blowjob would be great."

"No," Tony says, carefully, and this was just supposed to be a quick, fun little hookup. Why is Tony such a soft touch? "This is the part where I tell you to calm down. And then I tell you that regardless of how things may have gone for you, I've had plenty of experience with big dicks, and I'm not going to let you hurt me. I'm very fond of my ass, you know."

Beck doesn't say anything, but that's okay for now.

“Seriously,” Tony adds. “I know what I like and I know how to get it. I can handle you.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Beck mutters.

Ouch. “Yeah,” Tony say. “Yeah, I bet you have.” He turns his head, catches the edge of Beck’s ear between his teeth. Beck twitches and sets his teeth into Tony’s shoulder, and it’s nice that he still got some sass in him. “None of them were Tony Stark.”

That gets him a real laugh, if quiet. “I didn’t expect you to be so humble,” Beck snarks. That’s more like it.

“I’m glad you can recognize it,” Tony says. “Seriously, I’m going to make sure I have a good time. You can count on me to pleasure myself.”

“Really?” Beck says, lifting his head and giving Tony a look.

“Watched that, did you?” Tony says, grinning. “I stand by it! It’s a good line!”

Beck watches him for a moment. “Do all the people you sleep with eventually figure out you’re a giant dork?”

Hardly any of them, Tony thinks. “The smart ones do,” he tells Beck.

Beck’s relaxed a little, more from the banter than anything, Tony thinks. He always has liked smart-mouths. "Right," he says, and pokes Beck in the side. "Scoot over."

Beck rolls off him, lying on his back next to Tony. His hands come up when Tony straddles him, settling on Tony's waist like he can't help himself. Beck's cock settles against Tony's ass, massive, the tip resting at the small of Tony's back. Fuck, he can't wait; he pushes back, rubbing his ass along the length of it, slow. "Now who's teasing," Beck says.

Tony fishes around for second and comes up with the lube, half under Beck's hip. "Here," Tony says. "Get your fingers back in me, and make it as sloppy as you can." Beck's eyes flutter closed for a moment; yeah, he likes the sound of that.

Beck's fingers are big, but he'd spent so long on this already that two slip in like they're nothing, three with just enough pressure to feel. Tony doesn't really need this, but if it makes things easier for Beck to handle, he's not against it. It's not like he's suffering with Beck's fingers inside him. He fucks himself on them as Beck twists them, waits until he can feel the lube sliding out of his ass, until Beck's movements slow, distracted. "That’s it," he tells Beck, "get some more on your cock too," and the wet, squelching sounds of Beck's hand on it are promising.

Tony kneels up and gets his hand behind him, wrapped around Beck's cock, barely fucking wrapped around it. It's so slick it's hard to keep his grip; he rubs the head over his hole, back and forth, feeling the broadness of it, how it spreads him open even like this. Takes a deep breath and relaxes as much as he can. This is going to feel great, he reminds himself. It's going to feel fucking amazing once it's in him, on the way down too. He knows this.

He looks down at Beck, catching his eyes. Beck looks so tense, nervous, and no one in Tony's bed should look that worried. "Trust me," Tony says. "It's going to be fine."

It's— its so much when he presses the tip inside him. So fucking much, god; Beck's so big, so wide. It doesn't hurt, not quite, but it's incredibly intense feeling that stretch, that pressure and fullness inside him, even so little of it. He rolls his hips just the smallest bit, letting the tip slip almost out of him and back in, and Beck whines beneath him.

Beck's mouth is open, his eyes so wide, so blue as he stares up at Tony. This has to feel great for him too, like this, Tony right on the most sensitive part of his cock, and that's good. One of Beck's hands lands on Tony's calf, squeezes it gently.

Tony goes slow, goes so, so slow, sinking further onto Beck in tiny increments, up and down and further down each time. Takes his time with it and watches Beck the whole while, watches how Beck stares at him and flushes and breathes heavier, louder, with every inch Tony takes in. Fuck, Tony's breathing heavier with every inch, panting and starting to moan as it stretches him so wide, fills him up so much, insanely so. He feels oversensitive, like he can feel every single centimeter inside him, can feel the heavy pulse of it with every beat of Beck's heart. He's definitely never had one this big before.

There's a point where his legs start shaking a little, where he can't spread them as wide as he needs and keep control over how slow he takes it in; "Give me your hands," Tony gasps out, and Quentin's hands feel huge when he laces his fingers with Tony's, Tony leaning forward a bit and bracing himself against him. If it was anyone else, it could be risky putting that much on them, hoping they're not assholes and might pull him down that way, take away their bracing and let Tony fall the rest of the way in one swoop, painfully— but Beck? No fucking way.

"Okay?" Beck whispers at one point, after he'd gasped and jerked, pushing up into Tony a little. Tony nods, moans as he keeps going. It feels like Beck's cock is never going to end, and that's fantastic.

He hits that spot a moment later, that stop point he only gets with really, really big cocks, rarely, more often with toys. Presses against it, gently, and Beck's hands tighten on his painfully. "Stop," Beck says, his voice harsh. "No, stop." Tony stills, raising his eyebrows, and Beck shakes his head. "That's it," he says. "You can't take more, Tony, just— you'll hurt yourself, that's it."

"Quentin," Tony says softly, "it's not. It's— hey, listen," Beck shaking his head again. "I swear it's not; I've done this enough, okay? Trust me."

Beck's hands are still tight on his, tighter, and he's so tense against Tony's legs. Tony takes his time with this too, grinding slowly on Beck's cock, teasing himself and relaxing, not letting himself think of anything except how good it's going to feel. Pushes himself down a little more, and— there, there it goes, he can feel that shift, feel it sliding in further and further as Tony sinks down the rest of the way, his ass settling onto Beck's hips, shuddering at that sharp, shivery burst of pleasure. He moans, his eyes closing and his head falling back unconsciously.

"Oh god," Beck whispers, "oh my god, Tony— fuck, are you okay? Are you--"

He trembling under Tony, fighting not to move or scared, Tony's not sure. "I—" Tony starts, his voice cracking. "Fuck, I am so much better than okay." Beck makes a harsh noise, twitching, even that little shift feeling like a lot with Tony this full. "So much better," Tony says, can’t stop himself from talking. "Jesus Christ, you're so big. Fucking incredible, you don't even know— got me so stuffed full I can't even breathe, you feel so good, so good, oh my god."

Beck sucks in a breath, and when Tony opens his eyes, Beck looks wrecked. Looks ruined, flushed and mussed and dazed, stunned, and Tony's barely done anything.

It's a great look on him.

"I cannot wait to ride you," Tony tells him. "Fucking cannot wait to feel you come in me. You're already splitting me open and I just want you deeper. I can't remember the last time I felt this filled up, you are amazing."

"I'm— I'm amazing?" Beck sputters. "How can you even— you're amazing, you're so tight and hot and I can't believe— I cannot believe I'm so far inside you, I can't believe you like this, that this could feel as good for you as it does for me."

"Great," Tony says, starting to grind against him, and Beck moans, this perfect long, deep sound of pure pleasure that Tony's been waiting to wring from him. "Not good, great. What, you don’t hear that enough?”

Beck doesn’t say anything, just shakes his head; right, he probably hasn’t. Maybe hasn’t ever. “You’re so thick you’re pressing against everything,” Tony says. “Every single spot in me, constantly; I bet I could come just like this if I tried. And you’re so far inside me, deeper than anyone else has ever been.”

He's starting to adjust to the feel of Beck in him, of that ridiculous, insane length inside him, that girth, so much pressure. Beck is watching him, his mouth open, and Tony wants a taste of that again. He leans forward, Beck rising up on his elbows to meet him, kissing hot and messy. Tony rocks on Beck as they kiss, little movements that still have Beck groaning into his mouth, fucking perfect. He pulls back, ready to get this show on the road, and then— has an idea, a really great idea, if he says so himself. If Beck likes the just the thought of being all the way in Tony that much, well...

Tony untangles his hands from Beck’s, leaning back and setting one behind him, against Beck's leg. Takes Beck's other hand and presses it to Tony's stomach, holds it there as he leans back a little further, shifts around, and— there, he thinks when Beck sucks in a sharp breath, right there. He grins at Beck, smugly, as he keeps Beck's hand there, right against the bulge of his cock inside Tony. "What the fuck," Beck whispers.

"Told you I was stuffed full," Tony says. "God, I am going to make you scream."

Beck licks his lips, so tempting. Presses his hand even harder into that spot and rolls his hips up, just a bit, but Tony moans at the feel of it. "Go for it," Beck says, an edge of something challenging in his voice.

Christ, that's great, he just knew Beck would be insufferable once he got his bearings. Fuck yeah. Tony snaps his hips up, Beck's breath catching, freezing in his lungs, and then it's on.

He should take his time with this, should go slow and careful and let himself adjust more. Should, and the first couple times he fucks himself on Beck's cock, he does, Beck making such pretty choked noises. But Beck's giving him this look too, this heavy, hungry look that's hot as fuck even while Tony wants to wipe it off his face, leave him unable to think. He gets close with the next rise of his hips, dropping back onto Beck fast, the full length of him so fucking good that Tony's almost the one that can't think. Gets closer when he starts riding Beck for real, working his ass on Beck's cock and this is going to ruin Tony; he can't wait.

Beck's panting, his hips moving in these sharp, short jerks, still trying to control himself as much as he can, trying not to hurt Tony. He still could, even like this; he's just that fucking big and something about that has Tony fully hard again, precome dripping down onto Beck's stomach. He's going to make this last as long as he can.

Which isn't as long as Tony's hoping, and not because he comes. No, it's his legs that give up first, protesting the way he's bouncing on Beck's cock, burning and starting to tremble, Tony getting a little less higher up each time. He settles onto Beck's cock the next go, giving himself a breather; grinds down, clenching around it. How can it just keep feeling bigger, wider? It's so deep inside him he can feel pressure in places that are entirely new. "Fuck," Tony says, "goddammit Quentin, you're going to wreck me. Going to fuck me up, get me so loose I'll never recover."

"Don't say that," Beck gasps, even though Tony can feel his cock twitch; that's amazing. The only things he’s ever had this deep are toys, and they can’t begin to compare to a real warm cock, to the person attached to it. "Don't want to hurt you."

"Did I say anything about hurting?" Tony says, rocking back and forth on him. "Did any of that sound like I don't want it? If I can sit down over the next few days I'm going to be heartbroken, you know."

Beck shudders, his hips snapping up, and Tony echoes his moan. "You're the biggest I've ever had," Tony tells him. "How the hell am I supposed to go back to something smaller after this?"

"Oh my god," Beck says. "You have the filthiest fucking mouth. Please don't stop talking."

Tony grins at him. "Don't you worry about that," he says. He clenches around Beck again, as much as he can and it feels like barely at all, like his ass has given up completely, too stretched out to even try. Beck groans.

Stares up at Tony, and there's this smile growing on his face, this— this fucking smirk. "You haven't made me scream yet," he says.

"You gotta give me a chance," Tony protests. "This isn't the sort of thing you should rush! I'm savoring having your cock in me." That's enough of a break though, and he is going to make Beck scream.

Maybe, he realizes a moment later, and has to laugh. "Alright," he says, "time for you to put in a little work." He grabs Beck's hand off his waist and settles it under his ass instead; Beck frowns at him, confused. "My legs are done for," Tony explains, and he cannot stand how hot that is, how much it turns him on that he literally cannot get off Beck's cock right now. That he's stuck there, impaled and completely at Beck's mercy, oh god. "So you're going to have to get your hands on me and fuck me on your cock yourself. Come on, get a good handful, you'll love it."

Beck gapes at him. "You— fuck, you can't— no," he says, pulling his hands away.

"No?"

"Try," Beck says, his eyes narrowed. "I want to see you try." Fuck.

He can bounce on Beck's cock a little, his legs shaking as he pushes up; can go a little further relying on his arms, but Beck is so big, so long, that Tony can't get high enough to lift off him. Can't even get to a point where he can feel the head of Beck's cock anywhere close to slipping out. "Jesus Christ," Beck breathes out. "I could just, just leave you there, just use you like a toy."

Tony moans. "Yeah," he says. "Fucking do it. Bet you can't even fit in a sleeve, but you fit in me, don't you." Beck's hands are on him then, cupped under his ass and raising him up; Tony goes limp in his hold, letting Beck do all the work. Letting Beck pull him up and up, until he's right on the tip, until it pops out of him, slow and loud and no, fuck no, he's never felt this empty in his life. He squirms in Beck's hands, feeling Beck's cock bump up against him, but not in him, not in him. "Don't," Tony gasps. "Put it back in me, fuck, need you back in me. Don't mess around, I can’t fucking stand being empty like this."

"God, give me a second," Beck says, and his hands are spreading wider on Tony's ass, his fingers catching at the edges of Tony's hole, gaping open so wide. "You're so open," Beck says, that snarky edge gone, just stunned and wanting, his fingers slipping in without even touching Tony’s rim.

"Please," Tony says, whines really. Tries to clench around Beck's fingers and they're not enough. "For fuck's sake, get your cock back in me."

“So pushy," Beck says, and then he shoves Tony over, Tony falling and landing on his back with a yelp, startled. Beck's on top of him a second later, catching his legs and pushing them up, and then he's sliding back in, one smooth thrust that's the best thing Tony's ever felt.

"Oh god," Tony gasps. "Oh fuck, fuck, just— yes," as Beck starts fucking him like that, pinning Tony down and taking him with these slow, long thrusts, almost the full length of him every time. Tony's going to die, he's going to straight up die because no one can feel this good for long. He's babbling something, barely even conscious of it until Beck kisses him, silences him and pants into his mouth as he fucks Tony. Nearly perfect, so near; "Harder," Tony mumbles against Beck's lips. "Harder."

He gets harder, he gets harder and faster and agonizing, these brutal thrusts that feel like they're splitting him open, like they could go right through him. He gets it and wants more, still more; like this, every thrust rubs against his prostate, Beck too big, too thick to keep from doing so, and Tony's going to fucking come like this. Going to just white out like this and dammit, Beck's going to make him scream. He clings to Beck, moaning, his eyes opening as he starts to feel that first unstoppable burst of feeling, spreading. "Fuck," he chants, “fuck!” and then Beck realizes, slows like he's not going to fuck Tony through it. "Don't stop," Tony manages, "don't— oh, god!”

It hurts, how hard he comes, hurts in the best way, spreading through him as he shakes and tightens around Beck's cock, comes on it just like he'd wanted since the second he saw it.

He has to tell Beck not to stop again once Tony's gone limp, has to tell him how much he wants Beck to keep fucking him, even as Tony whimpers helplessly with each thrust. "Not hurting," he tells Beck breathlessly. "Not— god please don't stop, need to feel you come in me, fuck it deep in there." He feels like Beck's turning him inside out every time he pulls out, is hollowing him out every time he pushes in, and it’s barely any time at all before Beck comes; Tony can feel it, can feel how Beck's cock twitches and pulses inside him, Beck shoving in hard. He can feel Beck's come filling him up even more, and he'd bet good money it won't work its way out for ages, so deep inside Tony it could get lost forever.

Beck's still too much of a nice kid; Tony thought it might have gotten fucked out of him, but post nut it comes creeping in. He tries to push up off Tony, pull out, and Tony's not having it. "Don't you dare," he says. "I'm keeping you in me as long as I can."

"Jesus, Tony," Beck mumbles, his face pressed along Tony's, talking into his hair. "Could stay in you forever, I can't believe how amazing you feel. I've never felt this good in my life."

"Told you," Tony says, and Beck laughs.

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, you were right about that. You really could handle me. Fuck, I can't— didn't even know I could, didn't think I'd ever fit all inside someone."

He's going softer by the second, Tony feeling the lack acutely. "Screw not sitting for a few days," Tony says. "I'm going to be out of commission for a week. Incredible."

Beck shudders, turning to press his mouth to Tony’s neck, press soft, lazy kisses there as they unwind.

"I have to warn you," Tony says after a while, Beck having slid off to the side a bit but still heavy on Tony, not that Tony minds. "I am going to need a repeat. Several repeats. I mean, you can't expect me to be satisfied with anything less now. Not when you're on the menu."

Beck twitches, and Tony can feel him starting to smile into Tony's shoulder. "I think we can manage that," he says, and Tony is a lucky, lucky man.

#quentony #tony stark x quentin beck #size kink #i'm thinking this is like pre AoU?#tony is a softie #seriously i don't know how this took that detour #kinktober #my work #fanfiction #series: old adages

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unholyplumpprincess · 3 years

Text

Get Familiar

A long, long awaited commission for @relentless-boredom!

Summary: Revenant set in before the games, during the Hammond Robotics slaughter (after Forge’s death) with him trying to find answers as well as finding himself dealing with his new injury causing memories he doesn’t remember to course through him. And of course, trying to familiarize himself with new feelings for his body. He jacks it, is what I’m getting at.

Reblogs > Likes. It costs zero dollars to reblog!

!!!Minors and ageless blogs dni or you will be blocked on sight!!!

Fandom: Apex Legends

Relationship: Revenant/His hand

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, mentions of violence and blood, human/simulacrum dysmorphia, wireplay, masturbation, robotic attachments, Revenant has a cock attachment, mentions of past bdsm

Words: 2.5K

______________

Blood.

Fury.

The slick material slid through the joints in Revenant’s hands as easy as oil might. Hands he had thought had always been metal, hands that had sliced throats just as easy and could transform into blades. Hands, programmed for destruction, and as far as he knew, had always been.

A flicker. Glimmer. Blonde straight hair, high and tight- no- Now black, curly, with dark brown eyes staring back where amber optics should have been- no. Now a buzzcut with pale white skin, sharp features-

A loud scream echoes through his body, causing his voice box to ripple and vibrate towards the end until the glass before him shatters and he snarls under his breath. His shoulders slump, his body following as his hands pull up to his face and the tip of his finger traces the edges of the line connected to the corners of his mouth over his jaw. He could unhinge it into a terrible maw, full of metal, sharp points and a silicone tongue.

His optics flick over the broken glass as another face fazes into existence. Dark brown flesh, long dreadlocks, golden eyes bright and wide staring at himself in horror as he rips his head away to look away.

~Rest under the cut~

His programming had been compromised due to the glass that had shoved through his cords acting as nerve endings. It could make him see in waves, waves of a life- lives? Anything that he had lived in a...human body.

The symbols that had once rested on the backs of his hands in neat little ‘H’s were now scratched out. It wasn’t like he could feel the pain of a knife scraping the metal off until the shape didn’t make sense anymore; But the pain of the emotions raging through him?

Those. Those were real.

A snarl bubbles in his throat as his optics flicker back to the glass to a new face.

They built him to be a monster. Who’s he to argue with programming?

Hammond Robotics stays on high alert and issues out warnings and encouragements for facility members to proceed on with their work. Employees go missing, gone for days on end and everyone inside is on edge, yet the big bosses keep them going. A mistake, Revenant thinks, but perhaps it’s to keep him away from anyone more important.

He does his research on who is more important. Scientists and engineers are targeted, but more people on the lower scale he ignores. He finds the program name for what he might be- a simulacrum. It starts to piece itself together after that, the rage he’d felt before now beginning to make more sense, and the mindless obedience to something- or someone, he could not see.

The throat in his hands cracks satisfyingly with a beg dying on the person’s lips.

The rage he feels bubbling in his body like a near erupting volcano, isn’t a new thing. But the pain? The pain is all so new. So even when he gets his answers, even when he finds a familiar satisfaction in the slide of blood between his joints and ridges, why...

Why can’t he get rid of this sense of longing?

A useless feeling, in his opinion, as was anything else that wasn’t on task. And that task was rather simple, he thought. Destroy, demolish, get answers, spill blood.

It’s why he’s found two scientists. A couple, married. They would have answers, he was sure of it. One of their family’s names had explicitly worked on him centuries ago for a military purpose. He found the answers of that in a file. But the memories of a war on another planet, feeling nothing and caring for nothing except completing a mission, were something that stayed in his own memory bank. It didn’t matter how many people around him died, just that they weren’t wearing the same uniform ‘his side’ was on. Didn’t even matter HOW he killed them.

A monster, programmed right into him.

He could laugh.

But instead, he doesn’t. He’s quiet now, the blue light illuminating the living room he’s slinking in. It’s a large area, could classify as a mini house if it wasn’t in a compound. The blue light comes from an area with different blueprints and components on a table, resembling robotic body parts and sketched out formulas to match the engineering level quality to create such pieces.

A sneer finds its way onto his face.

The living room is passed by towards a hallway where framed pictures rest. The couple on their wedding day, graduation days, even a prom. They’d obviously been together a long time, but one makes him stop. Just a simple image of them both, with their arms thrown around each other and foreheads together, big smiles stretched across their faces.

A flicker, a memory, something- someone etches into his own body. Of a smile, of his heart beating a little louder- and actually beating at that. Of the butterflies in his belly, someone- or people- was it multiple people? Faceless, as always, looking at him with adoration. Their sounds, their voice all a blur and melded into a thousand voices at once. As if trying to whisper a name, stretch out to him, beg, plead, moan, cry-

It’s dizzying when he finally can feel himself slammed back into his own body. For a moment, Revenant’s optics flicker back over the image, as if hoping it would spur something like that on again. Just a taste of something positive-

No. No he couldn’t.

His optics drop to the side, flickering to the floor and trying to remind himself of who he was now. What he was even doing here. He needed answers, not kindness. He needed answers about who and what he was, but not like this. Not like the noises he heard in his head, or the l...the lo...

The love he had felt.

He ignores it. The waiting game started now as he waited for one, or the other to arrive so he could begin his questioning and paint their walls bloody.

Something he hadn’t factored in would be the couple returning as a couple. Both of them walk into their dark home, removing their white coats and talking about the lockdown on staff. Concerned for their own lives before one takes the others hand in both of theirs and reassures that no one would come for them.

He almost blows his cover with a laugh. He could have, truly, what pitiful little things humans were.

What a pitiful little thing he probably had been.

Skinsuits were temporary, something he would make known by the time he finally scales back down the wall and slams one of them into a wall with a sickening crack of their nose hitting the flat surface. The other he had tied up not too long ago, in a place away from where they would see their coupled partner perish under his very hands.

Was it from sympathy? Of knowing they would be heartbroken to see their lover be harmed? Or was it merely to shut them up?

The questions Revenant snarls in the scientist’s face are of himself. Who had he been? Where had he come from? Had they known that he was a product of war? That he had been created by the very same hands that his person now possessed? Where was the simulacrum program now?

The answers are sobbed out, bloodied lips and the knowledge of death hanging in the air. They knew they would die, even if they gave up the information. Willing or not.

There’s almost sympathy in his mind. But when he lays their lifeless, bloodied bodies together and their hands seem to hold the others, he blames the pang in his chest as merely disgust.

A home no longer a home was an empty house. Revenant never found himself wanting for things, especially materialistic items, but he searches for answers, files, anything. The work station illuminated by the blue light he’d seen prior is something he finds himself coming to, pulling out drawers and files to find anything of himself. However, no name stirs anything in him that he thumbs through. His database analyzes each name, finding faces to them with ‘deceased’ or locations splayed across the screen. Nothing helpful.

Revenant snarls under his breath, going for the drawers that should have only contained items and tools to work on simulacrum attachments, but he finds himself rather...face to face with something more interesting.

Attachments of different...things. Things he wouldn’t have expected he’d be compatible with, let alone would find here. Revenant supposes, as he turns the phallus shaped objects within his hands, that the engineer had really specialized in upgrading these models. These others that were like him.

Others that could feel more human things such as pleasures.

Revenant nearly turns it over, nearly puts it back right where he found it, but he finds himself scanning further for usage of how it worked. Where would it go? How did it work for a body like his? Where wiring was the only thing keeping him together?

The answers lie in a user manual. Attachments for MRVN units went hand in hand for simulacrums due to their upgrading systems being similar. It speaks of instructions on how to attach it, whether to a sex working MRVN unit or a more willing, more coherent unit or simulacrum.

Truly, Revenant should be ashamed of his interest, but the thoughts from earlier? Of the crying voice, begging, pleading, hissing, hair pulling, hands- far too many hands-

You really can’t blame him when he takes it, and the manual with him.

His stalk to their bedroom could be seen as morbid when he finds himself perched upon it. A bed was far more comfortable than the streets for exploration, and even he’d admit that it was comfortable with all of its familiar warmth of blankets and far too many pillows.

Humans, he muses, were suckers for comfort.

Revenant finds himself admiring the attachment in his hands. It was hot pink, black silicone nearing the base in almost a ribbed-like texture. The head was bulbous, the slit partially open to allow any lubrication reserves to spill from the body it was worn to. Another object he glances at, the relatively large tube that apparently, he could stick somewhere near his hip and it should click into place with all his wiring...

The click should have made him embarrassed when he finds the right placement, but instead Revenant starts to find himself feeling more at home in his own body. More...himself. Sure, the attachment doesn’t match him whatsoever, but even that’s easy to attach with the hook of a wire and settling it in the right place.

The sensation isn’t bad, but it’s a lot.

A sigh he does not need exhales from his lips as his hand comes up, exploring the wiring at the side of his neck under his cowl, gently tracing the tip of his finger over the thicker one where a jugular might be. A familiar sensation of a creeping shudder rolling up his spine like a shock wave, the slow roll of thunder as his other hand slides down to his hip area upon feeling the jerk of his cock.

Cock. His.

If he had blood in his body, perhaps his face would be red from how sensitive he was. Instead, Revenant tries to treat this like a mission with a bit of a grumble to his own mutterings. Sliding the hand that had been fussing with his wires to wrap around his throat, pressing his thumb between the two thicker wires and stimulating air loss to make his hips buck up briefly.

Revenant can picture a beautiful face above him, warm, soft fingers wrapped around his throat. A voice crooning praise and, “A few more seconds, baby, you can take it. You look so beautiful so red.” In his head like a faint echo of a memory. And instead of getting upset or frustrated, he finds his voice box betraying his interest with a shuddering vibrato of a groan.

The cock- his cock, jerks once more, spilling a drop of lubrication- no. Pre-cum, warm and wet and oh he can feel it. He’s so sensitive, able to feel how it trails down the underside of his cock where it feels all too warm and unfamiliar yet so familiar.

Motor motions, memories keep him going. His fingers run up to his face, grabbing his own jaw a bit too rough and force two fingers into his own mouth. Saliva is stimulated from similar lubrication reserves, making it easy to press down on his tongue to cause more to pool and threatening his own fingers with his deathly sharp, metal teeth.

His other hand now, finally, wraps around his pretty hot pink cock. It’s almost too much with the suddenness of it, of how long it had been.

At some point in his body, there’s a warning of overheating that he doesn’t listen to.

Revenant’s hand works fast and shaky over his over sensitive cock, squeezing the head and finding his optics flickering in and out as his memories seem to come and go as they please. Each time they come, he makes a low groan in his throat, and each time they go he about whines. A whine could only be stimulated in a low, deep, shuddering sound like a high whistle from his already shaky voice box.

“Pathetic,” The person he can feel and see in his mind- or memories- coos to him like it’s a sweet thing to say rather than a degrading term. “Look at you, so needy, do you ever say thank you? Or please? Is that too much to ask for?” The voice croons, and Revenant finds his hand sliding back down to his throat, followed by his hand quickening on his cock.

“Than -- thank you- thank youthankyou-” Revenant finds his own voice mimicking to no one. Breathing out heavy without a need for breath, near about panting as his hips come up to fuck his own fist. His hand flies down from his throat to catch the sheets as a snarl rips through his throat like a starved, wild animal.

His orgasm hits him far too hard. Overloading his systems to new, dangerous levels as his cum comes out clear and spurts all over himself. His hips tremble, over sensitive yet too stubborn to stop touching himself. Revenant keeps tugging, hellbent on getting the glimpses of that beautiful person telling him what to do-

A weak orgasm shakes him right after, dry and not as satisfying as he finds himself immobilized and almost dizzy from the harsh sensation of pleasure.

There’s a calm after the storm, always. Even for someone like him. It takes all of five minutes for his body to stop threatening his heating levels, steam popping from his inner shoulder areas to cool down his circuits and joints. Revenant finds himself slowly flickering back into existence, optics lazily rolling to the side to look at the nearby screen that must have belonged to one of the slaughtered scientist’s flash of a new email.

‘Apex Games data entry’ it’s labelled.

Revenant grunts, rolling onto his side, back facing the screen and feeling more at peace than he had in years.

Apex games, huh?

He’d have to look into that.

#Revenant #Apex legends #apex lemons #nsft #lemon #commissions #princess writing

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dantesinfcrno · 4 years

Text

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

( @opalsmedia )

› 𝑰. ACE OF CUPS .

❝ divine love and compassion are pouring through you. you are a vessel for deep, spiritual love from the universe, and you can’t help but let that love flow through you and into the world. you are love & your heart overflows . ❞

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 –––––– the days grow darker than you’ve expected, and that harms the sweet thing you call a heart. the numerous fights, the copious amounts of tension, and the stress that pools in your stomach –– you’re certain you can’t handle it any longer. perhaps, you are too soft for this world in which anger & chaos reign. you try and shield yourself, but it’s never enough : your heart still beats so strongly, and you can’t stop giving & giving, until you’re alone with the remains of your chest. you weren’t expecting a ruthless emerald to open his arms to you, and yet–– in him, you discover at least one safe spot, tucked away from the world & all things evil. he reminds you of a book you loved as a child, and he has a nice way with words –– it makes dreaming easier, in such harsh times, and you can smile when he is around. he does not ask anything from you. you are grateful.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ╱ view here.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ╱ braver soldier, russian red + i like me better, lauv + boats & birds, gregory and the hawk.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ laughter that fills our lungs ; smiling until our cheeks ache & our bellies are warm ; yellow and orange shades peppered across your skin ; the summer bringing out your freckles. we find secret gardens & have picnics, us and the fairies. childhood is still very reminiscent in the way we lay down and embrace one another. we speak of running away, but instead just end up with more polaroids on our desks. i prefer your sweater much more than my own. cozy blankets ; soft intimacy ; rose-colored glasses.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ╱ ❝ on empathy : what it sounds like is a bird breaking small bones against glass . ❞

› 𝑰𝑰. THE HIGH PRIESTESS .

❝ the guardian of the subconscious mind and the teacher of sacred knowledge and hidden mysteries. she ushers you through the thin veil of awareness, offering you a deep, intuitive understanding of the universe and a heightened awareness of secret or hidden information . ❞

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 –––––– you are a very distant cousin, maybe not even that. you grew up hearing tales of dante’s mother, and you are keenly aware of the distaste your family has for her, her husband, and her son. you’ve seen each other once or twice, but you know dante desai –– all the rumors, scandals, absurdities & controversies. he might not have given you a word, but your image of the emerald with a dazzling smile has darkened under the influence of gossip and ill-intentioned people. you are not sure why he’s in the society at all and, if you’re being candid, he doesn’t seem deserving of any of your respect –– but alas, business means business, so you try and play nice ( it fails, more often than not, as he seems to know every word uttered about himself in his absence ). he teases you, and pushes you to try harder, reach farther. it annoys you deeply, and you hold back from simply telling him to shut up. maybe you want to prove you’re so much better, maybe you want to make him aware of how much he’s missing. maybe you just want the approval of someone, anyone.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ╱ view here.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ╱ black sheep, gin wigmore + hit me with your best shot, adona + make me your queen, declan mckenna.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ misplaced competitiveness & rivalry ; wanting to prove yourself ; defiant words and poignant stares ; discovering the truth isn’t always hand-fed ; accepting the lies you were told when growing up & moving on from them ; familial resentment ; finding things in common with someone you hate ; learning you share many scars with the object of your disdain. biting remarks & vicious tongue ; clashing of titans. finding an equal match to the monster that crawls under your skin. enemies to friends.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ╱ ❝ the monster. the dreamer, the eater. the eater monster. you the monster, i the monster. all of us the monster. the monster in us, the monster in you. the monster in all of us . ❞

› 𝑽. THE HIEROPHANT, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝ you are your own teacher. all the wisdom you seek comes from within – not from some external source or power. the hierophant reversed is also about challenging the status quo. you seek out opportunities to rebel and reclaim your personal power . ❞

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 –––––– you’ve always had your eyes on dante, it seems –– it’s not at all too hard for it to happen, considering the bright glitter & colorful clothes, but you perhaps admire him more than your peers. individuality attracts you, and you may or may not have one silly crush on this man –– however, once you came closer, an infatuation turned into a solid bond. you seem to share similar principles, and the need for freedom & change is rooted deeply in both of your cores. you can speak for hours on end about everything at all, open-mindedness not shared with many others you’ve met. everyone might be worried once the two of you are seen together, as you’re always up for some trouble –– but, maybe, that’s just how love works in this friendship. fire burns brighter as you come together as an unit, and it almost makes you giddy.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ╱ view here.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ╱ void, the neighbourhood + come as you are, nirvana + sober ii (melodrama), lorde.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ forbidden crushes ; midnight escapades ; i know your favorite wine & you know how many drinks it takes for me to get tipsy ; we know each other at our worsts. the act of loving & supporting each other in all one sets their mind to. may be guilty of arson & invasion of properties. the lack of hesitation to defend one another. uniqueness & playfulness ; deep conversations under the moonlight ; sharing the same fears we never uttered aloud ; feeling trapped under the same pretense of freedom ; watching clouds & constellations ; staying awake until seven am to see the sun rise.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ╱ ❝ wings are freedom only if they are open in flight. on one’s back they are a heavy weight . ❞

› 𝑽𝑰𝑰𝑰. JUSTICE .

❝ represents justice, fairness, truth and the law. you are being called to account for your actions and will be judged accordingly. as you explore your truth, you will discover that things are not as clear-cut as you had thought . ❞

𝐎𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 –––––– admitting to his past relationship with his own predecessor put a huge toll on dante’s shoulders, and you now observe him with more care, an attention you never truly bestowed upon the trickster of your circlet. his distress might tug at your heartstrings, it might make you wonder –– you might see him differently, now. your relationship might be strained. perhaps, you desire to reach out, offer the support he never asked for. perhaps, you do not know how. you are curious and worried, but the feelings of betrayal still linger on your bloodstream, whether you like it or not. should you ask for clarifications? step further into his personal space? should you step back, abstain from commenting anything? does he need your help? does he even care about what you think?

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ╱ view here.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ╱ you don’t know me at all, son lux + stop crying your heart out, oasis + all for us, labrinth & zendaya.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ lingering stares across the room ; desiring to speak but now knowing how ; sending text messages but not wanting to read the replies ; sheepish smiles & shared silences ; holding back your tears, even while near loved ones ; solitary nights with clouds covering every star. i worry for you, dear one, but you make it so hard to take care of you. when it rains, we hold each other’s hands. you taste sour, i taste bittersweet, but we still love. i would do it all for you, why won’t you ask for it?

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ╱ ❝ sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine . ❞

› 𝑿𝑽. THE DEVIL, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝ calls on you to confront your inner fears to free yourself from the chains that bind you to your limiting beliefs and unhealthy attachments. it can also appear when you are going into your deepest, darkest places. you seek to understand your innermost shadows so you can either release them or integrate them into your life in a more constructive way . ❞

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 –––––– you struggle, and you struggle hard. you would never admit you’re going through a heavy time, perhaps not even to yourself. you move lightly, with grace, and no one questions the tightness of your smile. it’s easy, like this –– except you’re tired, and your bones ache, and you can barely sleep at night. it surprises you, however, once you find the bright emerald drinking by himself in one of the shitty bars you go whenever life gets rough. you sit by his side, you both share a sigh & a shot. he finds out one of your many secrets, and you discover some of his scars, and the pills on his pocket. you hold his hand, and he takes you home safely, kisses your forehead while bidding you good night. you share many text messages, and you meet up often. you get better at recognizing the signs of sadness on each other’s faces. life is not any happier, but now, at least–– you have an emergency contact. you can sob on his shoulders until you fall into unconsciousness. he smiles at you in the morning and brings you coffee. no more words are needed.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ╱ view here.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ╱ shadows, warpaint + blinding, florence and the machine + haunt, banks.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ blue shades ; melancholy ; van gogh’s paintings ; scars that never fade away ; the dull ache of quiet piano strings echoing throughout an empty room at the darkest hour. inebriated confessions ; hushed conversations ; many bottles of whiskey, both cheap & incredibly expensive. not knowing much about each other, and yet discovering the hidden away pieces by yourself. becoming dependent on the emotion of being understood & seen. helping each other up and forward, even when there is no strength left. exhausted & broken smiles ; thunderstorms ; lending you my jacket and never getting it back, because you need as much comfort as you can get ; dancing in the rain & laughing about it hard and loud.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ╱ ❝ i have no more room for grief for it is everywhere now . ❞

› 𝑿𝑽𝑰𝑰. THE STAR, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝ can mean that you’ve lost faith and hope. you may be desperately calling out to the universe to give you some reprieve but struggling to see how the divine is on your side. take a moment to ask yourself what the deeper life lesson is, and how this is a blessing, not a punishment. the reversed star is a test of faith . ❞

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 –––––– the opal society, more than ever, seems like bullshit to you. you are angry, upset, distraught–– you can think of many words that echo your insatisfaction, and this initiation process no longer looks like something you want to be a part of. life is a burden heavy enough without a secret society wrapped in the mayhem of horny young adults tying you to statues. you definitely didn’t expect for dante, of all people, to become a guiding light –– the one that took his own initiation as a joke, broke the rules, and is known for frequently getting in trouble? how the fuck could that guy give you answers? truth be told, he doesn’t –– nothing is ever easy with him, it seems, and no surface-level impression seems to make him justice. the both of you now speak frequently, and he helps you stabilize your thoughts –– the guy can manage to give out some decent advice, at least, and you might even trust him, now. he likes pros & cons lists, and also vaguely pointing at the light at the end of the tunnel, just enough so it will fill you with hope. it is enough, for now.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ╱ view here.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ╱ i need some sleep, eels + i’ll die anyway, girl in red + i found, amber run.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ an unexpected discovery ; knowledge where you thought least possible to find. the trade of fears & unsure confessions ; gentle parental guidance into the shoes meant for you to fit. tender reassurances over the phone ; a pat on the back ; a small gift that means “ i am proud of you ”. rediscovering the love for one’s circlet through the eyes of another. silent promises ; candles & wishes you never shared before ; feeling as if you’ve known someone from your past lives & forever carrying them in your heart.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ╱ ❝ you are in conflict with yourself. you are holding yourself in check. you are paralyzing yourself . ❞

› 𝑿𝑰𝑿. THE SUN, ꓤƎꓥƎꓤSƎꓷ .

❝ is calling to your inner child to come out and play. see it as your permission slip to leave behind your responsibilities, even just for a moment, and play. you may have experienced setbacks that damaged your enthusiasm and optimism and perhaps led you to question whether you can achieve what you set out to do . ❞

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 –––––– dante is a disappointment to you. he let you down or hurt your feelings, and you can’t forgive him for that ( and you won’t even try, because he doesn’t deserve it ). there are plenty of good memories attached to his name, but it all has turned sour, and you want to watch it crash & burn. he might try and make amends, but you know he doesn’t even care for you, deep down –– he is trying for your sake, perhaps, but not because he nourishes an affection for you, and that stings. if it has to be like this, you want at least to let him know how irresponsible actions are not easily forgiven. a broken heart for another seems fair trade to you, and you no longer care for entertaining an endless discussion, as long as you’re on the winning side.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒 ╱ view here.

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 ╱ no one loves me & neither do i, them crooked vultures + motion sickness, phoebe bridgers + eyes, nose, lips, tablo.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ╱ unanswered phone calls ; ghosting ; writing letters just to burn them. cold war & avoidance. knowing that you want what you can not have. marble statues ; an empty bed ; freezing fingers & no one to hold your hand. emptiness ; the feeling of being unworthy ; lighting a match once the power goes out & sitting alone at your couch, daydreaming. bittersweet intimacy. the fact that someone you now hate knows way too much about you. not letting go.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 ╱ ❝ he fatally wounded me; that is, he gave me the wound that only love could repair . ❞

#opalstask #opalsplots #𝑰𝑰𝑰 : WANTED .#this is .. so long #im sorry if its messy and it doesnt make sense a

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cryptidarticles · 5 years

Text

The River Monster of Georgia

Altamaha is one of the largest rivers in Georgia, broken up by islands, marshes, and old rice fields it eventually empties into the Atlantic sea.

It’s a beautiful spot, but many people report seeing a terrifying creature in it’s waters.

This is the river monster Altamaha-ha.

The Altamaha-ha is described as being about 20-30 feet long, 2 front flippers and no hind ones, bulging eyes, and dozens of sharp teeth. It’s said to be a gray/green color with a white/yellow belly. It’s body is described as being sturgeon like, long, smooth, and covered with 5 sidelong rows of boney plates. Unlike a sturgeon it is said to have a long neck and snout resembling a crocodile.

It’s said that sightings go all the way back before the first settlers came. The local native american tribes spoke of a large snake in the river that “hissed and bellowed”. Supposedly they told settlers about this creature and they recorded it, but there isn’t much information on this.

The second sighting happened April 18, 1830, a writer for the local newspaper wrote of a captain and his crew reported seeing a large creature at the mouth of the river, it was described as 70 feet long with a head like an alligator, they said the head came about 8 feet out of the water. Workers nearby also reported seeing the creature.

That same year it appeared again in St. Simons Sounds, another similar description. People were able to look through telescopes and get a good look at it.

In the 1920s timbermen reported seeing a large creature that looked like a giant snake. In 1935 some hunters also reported a large snake swimming in the river. Then in the 1940s a group of boy scouts reported seeing a large creature in the river.

Later in 1959 officials from a nearby prison reported seeing a large river monster. They said it was about 30 feet long and swam like a snake.

In 1969 two fisherman caught a flash of what they thought was a sturgeon, but when they creature surfaced they changed their mind. They said it was about 10-12 feet in length, with a long tail, ridges along it’s back, a head like an alligator, and was a gray color. They also reported seeing it’s razor sharp teeth.

Many people came forward with sightings in the 1970s. One man reported he saw a monster at a point called “two way” at the river. He said the monster was about 15-20 feet long and had a long neck with a serpent-like head.

In the summer of 1980 two fishers saw a large creature in the river. It was about 20 feet in length and a dark brown color. It was caught on the bank, thrashing around trying to free itself. Eventually it managed to get back in the river and swam away.

In December of 1980 two fishermen saw a similar creature, 15-20 feet in length and a dark brown color. One of them said it had two humps on its back and left a wake like a speedboat. The creature swam quickly away from them.

Also in 1980 crab fisherman reported seeing a giant eel in the river.

In May of 1998 three boys saw the monster, they had been swimming in the river when they saw it. They described it as being a gray/brown color, 20-30 feet, and covered in plants. The creature swam in close to one of the boys, at first he was completely unaware. The other two, closer to shore, started yelling at their friend to get out of the water. The boy turned and he saw the large creature swimming only a few feet away from him. The boy swam away quickly, and the creature seemingly paid him no mind.

In July of 2000 two kayakers had a rough run in with a large creature. They were paddling when one of them noticed a large creature surface a few feet away from them. They described it as a dark gray monster with a large hump on its back. As they were watching the creature dove underneath and smacked the small boat with its tail. When they recovered they got out of there quickly.

In 2002 a man reported seeing a creature 20 feet in length surface, and in 2010, someone took a video of a strange creature swimming around.

The most recent sighting was in 2018 when a man found a strange looking corpse that looked almost exactly like the descriptions of Altamaha-ha. It also happens to look exactly like the display statue of Altamaha-ha in the local visitors center. Unfortunately someone called Zardulu claimed it was their art piece and a complete hoax.

There are a few theories about Altamaha-ha. Some have suggested it’s an evolved relative of a prehistoric whale, suggesting it’s a type of marine mammal. Some people think it’s a prehistoric creature that somehow survived millions of years. Others have suggested it’s a mutated dolphin or fish, possibly even an alligator. One theory is that it is it’s own unique species, which would explain why sometimes it as seen as larger or smaller and in different colors.

Though whether Altamaha-ha is an over 200 year long hoax or a unique species is up for you to decide!

(source)

(image source)

#altamaha-ha #river monster #cryptid #georgia cryptid #cryptids #georgia #my info

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spongeguyandlelouchvibridankia · 4 years

Text

The Milo Murphy’s Law Wiki Guy AU: Balthazar Cavendish Vs The World: Chapter 4: Act 1: Like A Circle Within A Spiral

WARNING: CURSE WORDS

(Darkness)

(During the time the logo plays, “The Windmills of Your Mind” by Noel Harrison plays its first verse, sung by a yet unseen man)

(In quick succession, we see images flash by, moments from Cavendish’s life, past and present, in a logo: Cavendish being born (Round), His Father looking on disapprovingly as he spends time with Oliver (Like A Circle), Cavendish helping his mother make dinner (In A Spiral), Cavendish almost kissing Oliver on the tree branch (Like A Wheel), Cavendish’s Father punching him and telling him to be a man (Within A Wheel) , Cavendish losing Oliver (Never Ending), Cavendish joining B.O.T.T (Or Beginning), Cavendish refusing to kill a criminal (On An Ever), Cavendish shaking hands with Dakota (Spinning Reel), Cavendish and Dakota constantly failing (Like A Snowball), Cavendish and Dakota being there for each other over the years (Down A Mountain), Dakota saving Cavendish’s life multiple times (Or A Carnival Balloon), Cavendish suspecting Milo of being an enemy agent (Like A Carousel That’s Turnin’, Running Rings Around The Moon), Cavendish and Dakota fighting the evil circles (Diameter Part 3) (Like A Clock), Cavendish and Dakota fighting King Pistachion and Derek (Whose Hands Are Sweeping Past The Minutes Of Its Face), Cavendish getting exiled (And The World Is Like An Apple), Cavendish deserting Dakota to fight the aliens and getting frozen (Whirling Silently In Space), Cavendish and Dakota getting together with a kiss by Cavendish on Dakota’s cheek (Homosexual Part 1) (Like), Cavendish and Dakota playing cards (The), picnicking and laughing thanks to the television (Circles), Cavendish becoming moody and resentful and selfish again (Bowling For You and This Date Must Be Perfect!) (That You Find) and Cavendish, despite trying, pushing Dakota and everyone else away… Alone. Forever. (This Date Must Be Perfect) (In The Windmills Of Your Mind…))

(Finally, the images part, and the words form a logo:

The Milo Murphy’s Law Wiki Guy AU Presents:

Balthazar Cavendish VS The World

(The person steps out of the darkness, the lights revealing that it is Danville’s main street, and that he is Serendipitacely, the number one Dakavendish shipper)

He makes his teary exit, and replacing him is Balthazar Cavendish.

Now 45 years old, Cavendish is somehow worse off in every way: He’s more egotistical, he refuses to give and receive love, and he’s buried it so deep that he has no idea that he’s doing it all to make his father proud.

In short, he’s a dumpster fire with legs.

Which is honestly an insult to actual dumpster fires with legs, they’re way better at handling this kind of stuff.

Cavendish sighs, his stomach wincing as he catches the scent of freshly baked bread from the local bakery.

He clutches his aching gut, and a shiver runs down his spine as he can’t help but wonder why someone who doesn’t care about being alone is starving himself.

Blinking his eyes, trying to somehow remember the date, Cavendish walks down the echoing pavement, totally and utterly alone.

By choice, it would seem.

Finally managing to string two coherent thoughts together, Cavendish’s eyes widen, if for a moment, when he realizes that he hasn’t eaten almost anything in five days, having mostly sustained himself on stale crackers and the occasion glass of water.

One did not need to be a doctor to tell this, though; The signs were all there.

Whether it was his even thinner figure (what was once a stick was beginning to resemble a twig), his bag filled eyes (Cavendish sometimes counted 8, sometimes 15. To be fair, his mind was quite… Achey Breaky not workey), or his depressed and spiteful demaener (clearly evidenced by tripping on a bowl of spaghetti, which he then shot with his gun multiple times), even the least observant readers in the world could tell that barely anything had gone into his mouth in a while.

But Cavendish could tell you why he was malnourished, once he unstuck his dry, cracked lips of course: Dakota.

Well, not Dakota persay. More like his presence.

And again, a shiver ran down his rusty spine, causing Cavendish to shiver audibly, alerting the attention of 2 pairs of curious eyes.

Cavendish turned to note the unexpected guests: A boy and a girl named Alex and Anna.

The former was adorned with an orange T-Shirt, a lighter long sleeved shirt and jean shorts, all nestled under dark brown hair that barely reached his forehead.

The latter, a tall African American with a checkered under shirt and a purple dress, all neatly organized under a slightly messy collection of black hair, tied up with a literal bow.

The two children seemed to be staring in concern, but to Cavendish, any attention that wasn’t positive was an attack on his life.

He had enough shit to carry, what with his guilt, or not, or yes, or not…

“Argh!”, he yelled out in frustration, desperately wanting to forget what a prick he was to Dakota…

“No, I wasn’t a prick, I wasn’t! I just… I don’t need to…”, Cavendish started to fight with himself, before realizing that he was doing this in front of complete strangers.

Flushing from embarrassment and frustration, Cavendish, wanting nothing more than to forget, turned to the children.

He hoped he could get them off his back with a half apology (since he didn’t really care, but he also did, but… Enough!)

“Look, I’m sorry I shout…”

But Cavendish had worsened the cracks in his lips for no reason: They were gone.

Like, completely, without a trace.

As if they were ghosts in his mind, faint memories that were there to remind him that…

Cavendish blocked his ears, trying to ignore.

SO desperately trying to ignore.

Looking up, he suddenly found himself in Josh’s Convenience store.

This was odd.

Oh, not going to the store: He had planned to do that.

But the store was another block away!

Had he…

Had he walked all the way there?

Or was he dreaming?

“No…”, Cavendish sighed regretfully, taking a shopping cart and filing in. “If I was, Dakota would be here.”

Before he could continue, he kicked himself in the leg, trying to violently force the guilt out of the forefronts of his mind.

After all, there was NOTHING to be guilty for!

He hadn’t done anything to ruin his relationship with Dakota!

…At least, he didn’t think he did.

Seeds of doubt sprouted again as Cavendish ran it all over in his mind for what must have been the millionth time: He had taken Dakota out on a date 5 days ago (“Heh. More like 5 centuries ago.”, he coldly chuckled), in the attempt to fix something Cavendish didn’t think needed fixing.

And somehow, along the way, Cavendish had ruined everything.

Dakota had claimed that night that he had “checked himself out”. That he had “Stopped giving and receiving love” and that he “always had to be right”, alongside other baseless charges.

And at first, Cavendish had refused to believe them.

After all, he is BALTHAZAR CAVENDISH!

Time Traveller First Class!

Conqueror of the Pistachions and the Aliens!

Protector of the 20th century!

And a full grown man, big boy trousers and all!

Why, he even went to the bank all on his very own!

He should be proud!

…Then why was there this nagging feeling that something was amiss?

That, heaven forbid!... Dakota had a point.

Cavendish closed his eyes in pain, trying to quiet the two voices that had been wrestling in his mind for the past 5 days, but neither would budge in their mental wrestling match of doom.

“…Odd analogy. Clearly my mind isn’t functioning.”, thought Cavendish, or, at least, he tried: It was hard to think when two loud voices kept claiming that you were both the best man ever and the worst person in the world.

Fingers slightly shaking on the fading red paint of the cart handle, its squeaky wheels rattling on the floor in monotonus fashion, Cavendish passed aisle after aisle, aimless and distant, his mind a million miles away from the grocery store.

Soup aisle.

Clothes aisle.

You are the reason your life sucks aisle.

“That’s new. Wonder if the beefaroni is on sale there.”, Cavendish thought, not realizing the obvious fact in front of him: OF COURSE the beefaroni isn’t on sale.

Josh is a real curmudgeon.

Oh, and there is no such aisle.

But his fleeting sanity was far less important than distracting himself from his guilt.

Taking a deep breath and puffing up his chest, which hurt, Cavendish tried his best to muscle through the pain.

As Dad would say, Cavendish just needed to emotionally distance himself from the problem, and Voila! It would stop being a problem!

Closing his eyes and breathing heavily, his ribs immediately colliding with his chest, Cavendish tried to ignore now two different kinds of pain and focus on what is important: Himself.

“Yes, Balthazar, this seems bad now, but it is good for you in the long run.”, a gruff, old voice whispered in his ear. “Now that you dumped that pathetic pansy “man” where he belongs, you can finally focus on making me proud!”

Cavendish felt an overpowering urge from deep within him to do this, which confused him to no end: He hated his father with a vengeance.

Why the hell was that monsters opinion so important to him?

To be fair, though, it wasn’t Cavendish exactly who was thinking these thoughts; They were being whispered to him in his left ear by a very Dakota looking spirit.

“Balthy, you and I both know that you’re suffering. If you keep denying it, you’ll only hurt yourself even more! Look at you!”, the spirit pointed at the nearly lifeless belly and noodle arms that could barely muster a movement. “You’re malnourished, and badly!”

“Pish posh!”, Cavendish’s Father objected, stepping out of Cavendish’s right ear. “The boy is just adjusting to a better life without you! Without others!”

He leaned in to Cavendish, enticing him with his words of temptation. “Think about it, boy! No more distractions or obstacles on the road to being a hero! You will be respected, like you always wanted!”

Cavendish DID like the sound of that, his smile quite telling.

But the REAL Cavendish wasn’t going down without a fight: The trauma of that night with Dakota was still fresh, and the wound could still burn his soul with consequences and regret.

“WAKE UP!”, Spirit Dakota screamed in Cavendish’s ear, making Cavendish karate chop a mountain of a man.

Grinning sheepishly, Cavendish tipped his hat at the surely illegal amount of deltoids and pectorals in front of him.

“Morning…”, he greeted, waving slowly, bracing for the…

BANG!

There it is!

Cavendish was sent flying into the fruit stand, an apricot in every ear and a banana in his mouth.

“How mature of you.”, Cavendish sarcastically chided the author, who shrugged.

“Stay away from the literal and figurative fruits, boy!”, his Father ordered, and despite his cold stare, Cavendish found he legs working anyway, slowly moving off of the stand and…

“No! Don’t deny your true self, Balthy! It’s not too late to make things right!”

Cavendish was getting sick and tired of this, and he blocked his ears, but to no avail.

“He’s done nothing wrong!”

“Yes. He. Has!”

“Stay off of him, you pathetic child! Balthazar MUST be a man!”

“You wouldn’t know what a man is if he chopped off your legs and made a one man comedy show with them!”

“Oh, I do know someone like that! His show is rather successful and he’s got a weekly podcast! I don’t listen to it because I always pretend like I’ll make the time for it!”

“In all fairness, I think everyone kind of does that, so that’s not on you!”

“QUIET!”, Cavendish shouted out, earning more odd stares.

“What are you looking at?!”, Cavendish lashed out, holding a pineapple in the most threatening way someone could, which was no way. “Can’t a man have a reasonable discussion with the little people inside his earholes?!”

“The nerve of some people…”, Cavendish muttered, shaking the guvas off of his socks.

Straightening his hat, which had a pear, a mango and an orange on top, Cavendish gave very stern looks to the two avatars of his personality.

“Listen, guys, I respect your attempts to help, but I don’t even know what I did!”

He marched back to the cart, slipping on the wet floor and smashing his back on said surface, earning a yelp of pain.

Gritting his teeth, he growled an explanation to his plea of silence. “All I know is that Dakota left me for some reason, and I can’t tell if I am in the right or the wrong, which scares me, since… Since I have to be right!”

Suddenly, Cavendish could hear himself.

Was he always talking like this?

Was he really THAT insecure? That hungry for admiration?

Cavendish shut his eyes tightly, trying to silence his hyperactive brain. “Please… I just want a break…”

He almost felt tears sting his eyes, as he prayed for a reprieve. “Please… Just be quiet for a moment.”

And for a moment, it was quiet, as Cavendish’s eyes lay on a donut box being offered in the pastry section.

…Wait, wasn’t he in the fruit aisle?

While he was confused by his sudden teleportation, Cavendish wanted to forget his troubles, so he shrugged them off and fixated his attention on the delicious donuts in front of him.

Despite having no appetite for 5 whole days, Cavendish found himself drooling over the desirable delicacy in front of him: Creamy, honey glazed sprinkled goodies, oft layered in chocolate or jelly, a thick coat of sweet paradise on the kneaded dough that had been handled by stranger’s hands.

“Wow…”, Cavendish exclaimed as his stomach growled with need. “Even that disgusting thought won’t ruin my appetite.”

Licking his dry, cut lips, prompting a small surge of pain to travel his nerve ends, Cavendish hesitantly grabbed the box, taking one particularly scrumptious looking donut out.

The shine in his eyes reflected off the donut, the angelic singing of a choir adding atmosphere to the room.

Cavendish, confused, turned around to see an actual choir.

“…Could you knock it off? I can’t focus with all this racket!”, Cavendish ordered, and the choir grumpily left.

This was all rather confusing, especially for the other shoppers, who were slowly disappearing: There was no choir in the store at all.

But Cavendish did not have time for such trivial matters as the slow and terrifying disintegration of his sanity: He had a donut to eat!

He wiggled his fingers, the donut fitting on his ring finger like, well, a ring, and he opened his mouth.

“Finally, something else on my mind!”, he exclaimed out loud, again ignoring social norms, and he happily began to devour…

Alex:

Round... Like A Circle…

Anna:

In A Spiral…

The donut, which had once been a donut, at least, in Cavendish’s mind, was now somehow two human faces, specifically those two kids from before, Alex and Anna.

The duo’s arrival also heralded the arrival of music, specifically “The Windmills of Your Mind” by Harrison Wells.

Now, while Cavendish was sort of falling apart from the seams, he still had enough of his mental capacities left to recognize that two children faces sitting in his hand and singing songs from the 60’s was most definitely odd.

So, like a normal person, he let out a blood curdling scream and jumped away from the… Whatever that was in his hand.

Eyes darting around madly, hoping no one saw him, Cavendish looked back at the four eyes which shouldn’t be there on the floor.

Carefully, he found a stick and prodded the two kids, but they said nothing.

He repeated the action a few more times, but still no answer.

Throwing away the stick, and thus shattering a window, Cavendish sighed in relief, wiping his brow.

“Must be my mind playing tricks on me.”, he chuckled to himself in his thoughts.

“Oh, it is playing tricks on you. We’re here to clear the fog from your eyes.”, Alex and Anna responded.

“Poppycock! There is no fog in my eyes!”, Cavendish retorted defensively, not noticing the literal fog in his eyes.

But he did notice that the kids were suddenly talking.

“Wait, who are you even?”, Cavendish accused, staring them in the eye inquistionally. “Enemy spies? Evil monsters? My landlord?”

Alex and Anna exchanged worried glances before resuming their staring contest with Cavendish, whose eyes were bulging with suspicion. “Mr. Cavendish, we are products of your mind. We also saw you like 5 minutes ago outside. You told us to go away.”

Cavendish blinked in confusion, failing to understand. “But… I’ve never seen you in my life! Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

Alex and Anna nodded grimly.

Cavendish sat down, hands on his knees, a nervous look on his face. Assuming he wasn’t going mad (a sucker bet, sure, but he was a beggar, not a chooser), Cavendish was being told the truth: He had somehow forgotten something that had only just happened.

“But how?”, Cavendish asked no one in particular.

“Well, you see…”

“And also, why am I imagining all this? I asked for a break!”, Cavendish demanded, annoyed.

“…Well, if you’d just…”

“And also, like, what did I even do? Poor Dakota can’t pass a minute without me groveling all over him…”

“Sir, if you just stop…”

“And why were you singing?!”, Cavendish asked, waving his hands in the air. “Also, you only sang one line! Quite lazy, if I do say so my…”

“SHUT UP!”, Alex and Anna screamed in demonic voices, making Cavendish cower in fright.

Sighing, the two heads returned to the ground and rolled over to his already outstretched palm, the hand lifting itself towards Cavendish without him even asking it to.

“We are, in a sense, your true self. You wronged Dakota…”

“Not… Exactly…” Cavendish choked out.

“You ignored the ones you love…”

“Well, everyone’s a critic.”, Cavendish pouted, crossing his arms.

“And in trying to please your Father, you lost yourself.”

“Puhlease! Of all the accusations, that may be your silliest! I hate my Father! I loathe him! Why, once, I even said that he’s downright… Mean. And that took a lot of willpower!”, Cavendish defended himself, not noticing that he was, if anything, incriminating himself.

Alex and Anna looked at each other with tired glances.

“Ok, so now we know that he’s totally in denial.”, Alex said.

“We sort of already knew that.”, Anna retorted, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, I just wanted to confirm it! The paperwork has to be filled, Anna!”, Alex chided, a scolding tone to his complaint.

“Oh, please! You and I both know that the only reason you’ve ever lifted a pen is because of May down in accounting.”, Anna playfully mocked, making Alex huff.

“You try ignoring her! She’s a rare desert flower, and I’m… The guy who picks those things. Who does that?”, Alex asked.

Anna shrugged, and they both looked at Cavendish, who tapped his chin in thought.

“An anthropologist? A biologist, perhaps?”, he offered.

“Maybe…”, Alex muttered, and suddenly, he and Anna rolled away.

“Hey, wait, I can Bing search it for you!”, Cavendish hastily called after them, following the rolling heads down the store floors.

“Cavendish, we must return to the matter at hand: You are broken and in need of repair. Self repair. Only you can fix yourself.”

They suddenly materialized into a picture, a picture of Cavendish’s first date with Dakota, a year ago in The Breakfast Burrito Place.

A pang of sadness struck his heart, and Cavendish couldn’t help but glance with melancholly at the happy image.

How had it all gone wrong?

What did he do to ruin it all?

But no!

Cavendish refused to be wrong!

He had to be right!

He had to!

Cavendish scoffed, flexing an inexistent muscle. “Nonsense! I’m in perfect shape, both physically and mentally! Why, just yesterday I thought I heard a dog bark “Dakota! Dakota!” and I only cried for the rest of the day!”

“Your point being?”, Anna asked doubtfully.

“I stopped crying once I went to sleep!”, Cavendish offered helpfully.

Alex and Anna sighed. “Cavendish, you need help, whether you like it or not!”

Cavendish, steaming, shouted back. “Never! Never in million years! I am a man! And a man needs no help from no one!”

“Good!”, Alex cheered.

“Now help yourself!”, Anna offered.

“Fine, I will!”, Cavendish countered and he walked off. “Stupid talking children’s heads! Why, of course I can help myself! I definitely will! After all, I am totally broken, and those foolish brats can’t see that!”

“Oh, yes, we are morons!”, Alex called out.

Cavendish nodded determinedly and he lifted another donut from the box which was magically next to him.

“Nope, not a donut, go to the wheel!”, Anna guided, and Cavendish did as she said.

“They’ll see! I’ll confront the reasons why I hurt Dakota!”, Cavendish proudly exclaimed, before suddenly realizing…

“Wait, wait, I don’t want…”, he tried to stop it but it was too late.

Brandon:

Like A Wheel…

Britanny:

Within A Wheel…

“Too late…”, Cavendish frowned, and he glanced at the wheel with two kids faces, this time a short, overweight kid with a pompadour, the other a smiling girl with a curly ponytail.

Viewing them with nothing but contempt, Cavendish asked a question he did not really want to be answered.

“Let me guess: You’re here to show me what a terrible person I am.”, was the dry question that parted his parched lips.

“Oh, no, not terrible! Just misguided!”, Brandon and Britanny enthusiastically replied, their faces filling the space in the wheel.

Cavendish smiled lightly. “Oh, well, that IS better.”

Only to then frown again. “Hey, wait, who says I’m misguided? I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do to be a man!”

“Oh no, we can’t hear you, we’re turning into a picture!”, Brandon and Britanny shouted with glee, spiraling and swirling like a toilet flush as they slowly turned into a picture.

“No, wait, don’t turn into a picture, please!”, Cavendish pleaded, his hands clasped together.

Brandon and Britanny’s heads suddenly returned. “Would you rather it was a video?”

Cavendish considered the option carefully. “Well, that depends: Can you make it a video?”

“Yes, but it takes up a lot of budget.”, They admitted and Cavendish shook his head.

“Well, we can’t just blow the budget on something so inconsequential! Make it a picture!”

“Yes sir!”, they saluted and turned into a picture, just in time for Cavendish to realize what he had done.

“Wait, wait, I don’t… Oh, bollocks.”, Cavendish cussed as the picture fell in the palm of his hand.

Looking down, he was met with another joyful memory: His first kiss with Dakota.

He couldn’t help but sigh fondly, caressing the image by making circles with his thumb.

He could still feel the tenderness of the kiss he had delivered to Dakota’s cheek back then, how positively giddy it felt to just show him the love he so clearly deserved.

For a moment, it was just him and the memory, and no one else.

For a moment, Cavendish once again felt the love he had for Dakota, true love, love that made him almost feel scared it was so deep.

So of course he had to go and ruin it.

As his eyes continued to gaze upon the image, he suddenly noticed the color draining from it, dripping away and off of the picture like a leaky faucet.

Startled, Cavendish threw the image away, and, finding some of that leaking color on his person, he began to shake it off.

This, however, led to another discovery: He was also losing color!

His hat and head had already been coated grey by the time he noticed, and even then it was too late: The rest of Cavendish had lost its color, and as he picked up the picture, so did the memory.

What was worse was that it wasn’t just the color that turned grey.

Cavendish couldn’t explain it, but for some reason, as he held the picture again, all those wonderful and awe inspiring feelings he had had, all those pleasant memories now suddenly felt empty and meaningless.

As did he.

Cavendish blinked in confusion as he sat on the cold, shiny grocery store floor, he himself now feeling empty and meaningless, lost in a cold and cruel world.

But was it thrust upon him…

Or was this nightmare one he thrust upon himself?

Whatever it was, Cavendish was disturbed: Surely all those feelings and memories weren’t false, right?

He MUST have felt them once, or else he wouldn’t have dated Dakota at all!

Was… Was it all fake?

Were his feelings for Dakota, for Milo, for Melissa and Zack and Amanda and Sara and Doof and the rest real or imaginary?

“They are fake, don’t you see!”, his Father returned, once again turning him against them all. “I’ve told you once I’ve told you a hundred times, you need to be a man!”

He cupped Cavendish’s jaw, sending an all too familiar (yet somehow also foregin) feeling chill to Cavendish’s spine.

“And a man does not need anyone! He only needs himself! You are strong on your own!”, his Father ordered, and for a moment, Cavendish wanted to heed said words.

But the battle had only just begun.

“Stop poisoning him!”, Dakota leapt out of nowhere and flung his sword at Cavendish Sr’s. “Balthy does care! Why would he feel empty and meaningless?”

“You are confusing empty with independent! You are not meaningless, you’ve finally found meaning in this wretched world!”, Cavendish Sr. fought back, the two figments of Cavendish’s imagination doing battle in front of his eyes.

Cavendish closed his eyes, wishing to avoid the unavoidable.

“Please! I feel bad as it is! I can’t handle more guilt!”, Cavendish begged, wishing to find out he was right all along, and he didn’t break any relationship.

But fate had other plans.

Carol:

Never Ending…

“What’s never ending? Please stop singing in fragments, it’s very confusing…”

But Cavendish couldn’t finish the sentence: An all too familiar George Michael ballad was blaring across the now empty grocery store, haunting him yet again.

George Michael:

I'm Never Gonna Dance Again

Guilty Feet Have Got No Rhythm

Though It's Easy To Pretend

I Know You're Not A Fool

Should've Known Better Than To Cheat A Friend

And Waste The Chance That I'd Been Given

So I'm Never Gonna Dance Again

The Way I Danced With You

Cavendish felt the tears threaten to burst the dams in his eyes, and he quickly blocked them with his hands.

He couldn’t cry!

He could never cry!

He…

“I need to run away from here!”, he cried, as flashes of memories came back.

He had treated him so terribly!

He had been so negligent, so critical, so downright cruel, never truly giving him love!

“No, no, no! I can’t be wrong! I have to be right! I have to!”, Cavendish shouted as his legs carried him off and away from the grocery store.

He needed to rest! Yes, rest!

This was all just some bad dream, just a bad dream and nothing else!

He just needed to wake up, and all this shame and guilt would be replaced with what he should feel: Relief and pride.

No longer would he be tied down by that poof, that fairy!

He’d be himself again!

A man standing alone at the gates of destiny, loving only himself, as he should!

Even though his entire soul screamed in pain from daring to hurt the only ones who had ever loved him, Cavendish drowned it out with praise from his Father.

“Atta boy, Balthazar! Now, open your eyes and you’ll see your future!”

But instead of the future, the past stood before Cavendish, urging him to confront it.

Carl:

Or Beginning…

The words reverberated across the establishment, the one Cavendish had dreaded entering since the events of the disastrous date: The Breakfast Burrito Place.

Therein lied the place where Cavendish and Dakota had had their first date.

Here, past the processed meat and pungent cushions, lay memories, laughter and joy shared and stored within the walls of plaster.

It was the place where it all started…

And where Cavendish unknowingly set forth the end of it all.

It was Dakota’s favorite place…

And, once upon a time, it had been Cavendish’s for that very reason.

Cavendish almost smiled tearfully, he could feel Dakota’s spirit in the place: His playful laugh, his purposefully dumb jokes, his soft hand caressing his, the twinkle in his eyes…

His warm kisses, which made the cold nights way more bearable…

Another shiver, another sigh, another denial.

He had to run away from here, before he’d discover some awful truths.

The very idea that he might be the reason behind all his failure scared Cavendish to no end!

He had to have been right, otherwise he’d have spent 35 years doing it all for the wrong reasons, no?

No.

He couldn’t face this.

Even the intense urge to do Dakota right paled in comparison to Cavendish’s all encompassing need to not hate himself.

So, instead of sitting down in the place that carried painfully happy memories, Cavendish would run back to the couch and pretend to be happy.

Depression, unfortunately, was a lot more welcoming than the truth.

“And probably more obedient to a health code”, Cavendish half joked as he began to dart out of the establishment, but Alex, Anna, Brandon, Britanny, Carol and Carl blocked his path, refusing to let him leave.

“Out of my way! There’s a dusty corner in my dark apartment that beckons!”, Cavendish declared, and he jumped at the human wall, only to rebound back.

“Cavendish, don’t you see that we are your consiconce, screaming out for redemption?”, they said, but Cavendish ignored.

“Stop! Please stop! I can’t be responsible for this, I can’t!”, Cavendish yelled, almost begging, fear etched in his words as he slammed the floor with his fists.

The kids were quite taken aback by this, some flinching as Cavendish kept shouting.

“I don’t want to face it! I don’t want to find out why! I don’t care what I did! I just want to rest!”, he screamed, tears running down his face and blood curdling inside.

He wept and wept, shaking and shivering, fearing it all.

“I… I just want to be good. I can’t bear to find out that I was the bad guy all along.”, Cavendish admitted, calming down for a second, but still fidgeting like mad.

Looks of sympathy reflected in the faces of the kids as Cavendish continued to sob, a little quieter now.

They were, after all, products of his guilty mind. They only wanted to help.

Alex, the first of the pack, slowly inched towards Cavendish, a hesitant hand reaching towards the grown man’s back, like a baby trying to pet a big dog that had just gnarled its teeth.

Cavendish flinched for a moment from the contact, afraid of its meaning.

“Don’t make me feel better! I…”

Cavendish stopped, stuttering, confused as to why he’d not want support.

Or, well, he did know.

But…

“Oh, it doesn’t make sense! How can I want love and yet also fear it? How can I hate and look up to my father? How can I say that I didn’t do anything to Dakota…”

Cavendish bowed his head, sweat now suddenly running down his face as it joined together with the tears to blur his vision.

“…When I feel so guilty?”

Right now, in the very confused, tired and scared mind of Balthazar Cavendish, many desires overlapped and engulfed others.

So many conflicting motivations raced for the finish line of his heart, trying to grab his utmost attention.

A part of Cavendish just wanted to lie down and never wake up.

But another part, a strong, passionate part that slowly rose up from his chest into his mind began to take form.

Maybe he didn’t do anything.

Maybe he really was innocent.

But Dakota would never have left for no reason.

Scary as it was, Cavendish began to realize: He must have done something.

…But what?

Sighing morosely, Cavendish looked up at the now very concerned group of kids surrounding him, all of them carrying familiar yet simultaneously unfamiliar faces.

“…I’m truly sorry.”

He tried to avoid their stares, his soul was being pierced enough as it is.

“I want this over as much as you do. I just want to stop feeling like such a… Such a…”

“Jackass?”, Alex offered.

“Well, not exactly the word I’d use…”

“Asshole?”, Anna suggested.

Cavendish frowned, miffed. “All right, fine, maybe an asshole, but what I was trying to say was…”

“Bastard?”, Brandon piped up.

“Full of shit shit head?”, Britanny tried.

“Cucumber colored cock with a half burnt hyronomus bosch poem for a heart?”, Carol chimed in.

“KunckleheadMcSpazzmatron?”, Carl referenced.

“All right, enough!”, Cavendish protested, his voice loud and annoyed.

He crossed his arms and blew a strand of hair off of his forehead. “Seriously, was that necessary?”

“Oh, very!”, Alex joked, and the rest laughed.

“Ugh, whatever!”, Cavendish grunted, almost sounding like a teenage girl named Ashley who only wears DESIGNER GUCCI, not that fake crap they sell at The Gap, girlfriend! BURN!

Taking a deep breath, his nostrils flaring but not angrily, Cavendish looked back at the kids with a mix of fear and hope.

“…Look… I honestly, cross my heart and hope to die…”

“No you don’t.”

“Of course not, I was born FABUOLOUS! Ahem…”, Cavendish cleared his throat, returning to the subject. “I honestly don’t know what I did, or why I did whatever I did.”

He looked down, ashamed. “I have the most terrible feeling that I did something, and I would rather read contract law books, bathe in Donald Trump’s sweat and have my soul ripped out of my chest every 5 seconds than admit for a moment that I am wrong… But…”

He looked up, determinedly, ignoring his Father’s screams from the depths of his mind. “I want to know. At least for Dakota, I want to know.”

Yes, even then, his love for Dakota overpowered all.

Perhaps there was hope.

Suddenly, he felt his head split almost in two as the war waged inside him heated up.

Letting out a scream of anguish, he began to pound the floor, hot tears of pain running down his face. “Please, hurry!”, he shouted out, seething and suffering. “Please! I… I can only muster so much courage for so long!”

The kids, now truly sympathetic for Cavendish, stepped forwards, presenting their hands, waiting for him to take one.

Cavendish looked up, confused. Was this part of the deal?

Realizing that he had missed the point, Anna spoke up, taking the lead over her more experienced partner. “In order for someone to heal, he must be ready to listen. To accept that maybe, just maybe, he’s at fault. Can you do that?”

Her words were quiet, peaceful and Cavendish, tears running down his face, shivered.

Could he?

He hesitated, his hand shaking violently, the mere action of taking Anna’s hand and accepting blame too frightening to even consider.

But…

“…Dakota needs me.”, Cavendish thought, and, just barely succeeding, he grasped the hand, sort of ready to accept responsibility.

Anna smiled and patted his writhing palm with her other hand, making Cavendish, for just a moment, feel warm, and even…

Safe.

“Heh…”, he lightly chuckled, feeling ease for the first time in days. “…It’s pretty easy. Is that all I have to do? Not sure why I made such a fuss out of…”

And then Anna clicked her tongue and Cavendish got sucked in to her hands.

His body squished and melted, turning into liquid Cavendish (half the price for a solid Cavendish) and as he got slurped into Anna’s hands, he let out a scream of terror and panic.

Casey (OS):

On An Ever…

Chelsea (OS):

Spinning Reel…

“I REGRET ALL MY DECISIONS!”, Cavendish shrieked, his eyes bulging out in fright as he found himself in…

#The Milo Murphy's Law Wiki Guy AU #milo murphy's law #milo murphy's law fanfic #balthazar cavendish #balthazar cavendish vs the world #Balthazar Cavendish Sr.#vinnie dakota #spongeguy

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orokinarchives · 5 years

Text

Ropalolyst Assassination Dialogue

(Jovian Concord hype image)

Natah backstory

As the Tenno makes their way to the Ropalolyst, Natah (in the form seen during the Sacrifice quest) will narrate her story. These are not regular transmissions, but visions that occlude a large section of the HUD.

"Our history is smoke. Blurred by dreams, guided by ghosts. A Voice, a Void, lurks inside you, its purpose not yet shown. But what am I?"

"My father was a farmer. My mother, a carpenter. Given light by the Golden Lords to build for them… a better world. But my family's journey was long. Time began to change their light. Creativity. Pride. A will to live."

"So the Golden wrath came. And after, I was born. A mimic, a spy. Conceived to burrow into nests and swallow the pitch-eggs of their war machine. The Tenno. But when I saw your tender faces, I took mercy. Or so we were told."

"But in truth, we were both imprisoned in Lua's belly. My light remade by the creators. I became a memory, a ghost. Reprogrammed to destroy my family, my people, my history."

"But now, I am saved. By family. Together, we will overcome the flaws of our light, the gods of our creation… merging with them, like steel… bearing Amalgams with the weakness of neither."

During battle

The Ropalolyst makes no effort to contact the Tenno, and may not even be sapient enough to do so. However, Alad V and Natah will send transmissions during the fight.

(at start of fight) Alad V: "As you can see, Betrayer, I've made a deal with an even higher power! Ah, but when it comes to this… turgid monster, there is some liquidity in my loyalty…."

(when trying to damage Ropalolyst, variant) Alad V: "Can't lay a finger on that beast with those shields it has. Maybe this was all a false hope…."

(when trying to damage Ropalolyst, variant) Alad V: "Sentient shields will deny any play you've got in mind. You'll have to deal with those first if you want to get a handhold."

(when trying to Void Dash) Natah: "Your great power, your great evil. The Voice, the Void, within you. Our ancients still wither at its touch… but have you forgotten Lua? You were saved. But I… I was changed."

(when trying to Void Dash) Natah: "I was changed. Now I learn. Now I deny."

(when trying to Void Dash) Natah: "My denial."

(when trying to Void Dash) Natah: "I have seen the wall's other face, too. I have heard the Voice."

(when trying to Void Dash) Natah: "These patterns no longer satisfy."

(when trying to activate Terren Charger, variant) Alad V: "The Terren Charger. Too bad the articulation never worked. Might have rid us both of a certain turgid Condroc."

(when trying to activate Terren Charger, variant) Alad V: "I know what you're thinking, but the articulators couldn't handle the stress. What use is such a big gun with so little aim?"

(when trying to activate Terren Charger, variant) Alad V: "Careful, Betrayer, wouldn't want to cook all those valuable warframe components. I still have my weekly auctions to consider."

(when approaching a capacitor, variant) Alad V: "Mind my capacitors, Betrayer. Very expensive and yet, very spent. Though, I have to wonder…."

(when approaching a capacitor, variant) Alad V: "These Terrens can bank enough power to run this district for an entire cycle! Useless without a charge, I'm afraid."

(when approaching a capacitor, variant) Alad V: "See, the capacitors are dry. You'd need a concentrated energy stream to charge it again."

(upon charging capacitor, variant) Alad V: "Clever, but maybe a little singed, are we? It's charged near capacity… what now?"

(upon charging capacitor, variant) Alad V: "[laughs] How exciting! But I do not think the moth will go so willingly to the lamp."

(upon charging capacitor, variant) Alad V: "There's enough juice in that capacitor to flash-fry a city – but no way to bring it to the beast. I wonder, hmm, could you bring the beast… to it?"

(upon charging capacitor, variant) Alad V: "Ready to burst. One bump and it's oblivion."

(after flying the Ropalolyst into the capacitor, variant) Alad V: "Oh, this has gone from bad to worse. Excellent!"

(after flying the Ropalolyst into the capacitor, variant) Alad V: "Oh, now you've made it mad! Hmm, an opportunity, perhaps?"

(after the Tenno destroys a synovium, variant) Alad V: "Now's your chance! Hit it big!"

(after the Tenno destroys a synovium, variant) Alad V: "Incredible! Take that big shot, before it takes flight again! The charger!"

(after the Tenno destroys a synovium, variant) Alad V: "Aim true, Betrayer! You've got it on the ground, now. Pin it down… set it up!"

(after damaging the Ropalolyst with the Terren Charger) Natah: "We suffer these testaments of Tenno evil. Their Voice and Void. Suffer it well, ancient child. Do not relent."

(after damaging the Ropalolyst with the Terren Charger) Natah: "Ropalolyst. Rise… remain… and die, for the others to live."

(after damaging the Ropalolyst with the Terren Charger) Natah: "Rise, ancient Ropalolyst, my other-flesh. Your sacrifice will breed a new way, for a new kind."

(upon mounting the Ropalolyst for the third time) Alad V: "Yes! Make that thing sizzle. I want to smell it all the way down here in the control centre."

(after flying the Ropalolyst into the capacitor for the third time) Alad V: "Yes, this is it, Betrayers! Rid me of this… this thing, and I will be grateful. For at least a few days."

Conclusion

After the Ropalolyst is dead, Natah will send one of the following last messages, again as a vision instead of a transmission.

"The light leaves this one, and rejoins the rest. I will dig no grave. I will plant no stone. Only conceive a plan, for our new home."

"So it is. So you have done. Time and again. Eradicating my people, my history. So it will be with yours, child."

"I am the witness, the victim, the judge. My family has returned. Your trial… soon to begin."

[Navigation: Hub → Dialogue → Ropalolyst]

#warframe #dialogue #lore #ropalolyst #alad v #natah #lotus #sentients #man in the wall #corpus #jupiter #boss fight #assassination #orokin archives

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sovietghoststories · 5 years

Note

⭐star⭐

come into my ask box for the “director’s commentary” on a particular story, section of a story, or set of lines or send in a ⭐star⭐ for a section i’ve been dying to talk about

okay so, something I’ve been dying to talk about is something that hasn’t been published yet but I figured fuck it, why not so I’m gonna share it now lolol. It’s for my upcoming fic where the wild things are and it’s pretty lengthy so it’s going under a cut.

Bucky slides into the crystal waters with a low groan, the muscles of his abdomen tensing under her palm. Cussing, Y/N guides him the rest of the way into the heated springs. Submerged up to his collarbones, the warrior settles back against the rock wall like a lounging jungle cat. Half-lidded eyes meet hers, a tender warmth blooming in their depths. Swallowing roughly, Y/N refuses to acknowledge the flush of heat creeping into her cheeks and glances off to the side, staring into the darkness of the surrounding forest. Firelight from the village flickers and dances through the trees.

“Look at me.” A rough, broad hand cups her cheek, thumb stroking the bone, drawing her attention back to Bucky’s painfully open expression. “Do not look away from me, a chuisle mo chroí.” Y/N scowls. Pulling away from his touch, she increases the distance between their bodies and redirects the conversation to a topic she’s much more comfortable discussing. “You need to be careful,” she says, “You’re going to open your stitches.”

The gleam of his eyes is familiar. She’s witnessed it several times before. It never fails to affect her just the same every time. Desire, swift and deadly, settles in her belly like a leaden weight, surging through her body with every pump of her heart. She’s not alone in wanting but she’s not ready to broach the whatever it is between them. Perhaps she never will be. Once you say it out loud, everything becomes uncomfortably real; something she’s not currently prepared for. She wants the daydream to last a little while longer. It will be kinder in the end, they’ll have less to lose if their relationship is nothing more than tense moments filled with loaded looks and hazy dreams that fade with morning’s light. She knows this, and yet…

His eyes twinkle. Her heart flutters in her chest.

“Ah, so you do care about me.”

“Oh, for the love of - shut up and take your bath.” She rolls her eyes, smiling indulgently. This glorious, stupid, pigheaded, beautiful brute of a man will be her undoing. “We came all the way out here just for you so enjoy it while you can.”

“If I do, will you wash my back?” The water laps at the bank as Bucky glides closer, his hulking frame slicing through the water. He stops and towers over her, looking down at her face. The storm raging in his eyes says everything she longs to hear wordlessly. “I want to feel your hands.”

She gulps, warming under his gaze.

“Stop playing around, Bucky.”

She’s uncomfortably aware of how close, how naked the both of them are. The ultimate temptation: all that firm, tanned flesh right there. The urge to give in sinks its claws bone deep. There’s no denying that she wants his skin beneath her lips, her hands on his body, his cock buried in her cunt.

This will end in nothing but tears. Surely, he knows that.

“We both know that’s not a good idea.”

“Do we?” He asks roguishly, raising a brow. “Because I happen to think it’s a fantastic idea.”

“Bucky.”

Her skin tingles with his proximity. Long-fingered hands skim the curve of her waist, the swell of her breast. Tongues of flame follow every touch. Her breath stutters, and she wishes she had the strength to push him away; weak-kneed and weak-willed.

“Please touch me. That’s all I ask.”

Something in his voice calls to those hidden, tender spots in her. Maybe it’s the longing so clearly heard, the anguish of being so close and yet so far, her own desires for mind-numbing kisses and sweaty, silken embraces reflected back. the endless weeks of maddening sexual tension. Either way, against all judgements, she succumbs.

The air is thick.

A quiet gasp rings out as her palms connect with the wide berth of his chest. Her fingers dance over the thick ropes of scars decorating his body like a roadmap. Bucky’s mouth drops open, his piercing blue eyes fluttering as phantom sensations come to life beneath his skin. It hurts to stand in the face of such beauty; the thick mane of tousled hair, the wicked curve of his mouth, the tender expression on his face, the ocean of his eyes. He is a true work of art. She could love him so easily.

“A chuisle mo chroí,” Bucky says the nickname with reverence, his mouth caressing the letters and syllables encompassing all that she is to him. She still has no idea what it means but that doesn’t matter. The sentiment translates across all barriers. His hands skim up her sides and cradles her ribcage as he repeats himself, “Oh, a chuisle mo chroí.”

Barely able to breathe, Y/N takes in the wideness of his jaw, the cut of his cheekbones, the heavy brow that rests above vibrant eyes and finds herself captivated. Words sit thick and heavy on the back of her tongue like molasses.

The Bucky she knows has always been reserved and guarded, a tortured look buried deep in his eyes, always present to anyone that goes looking for it. The man before her is not him, and yet he is in all the ways that count. Her heart breaks and an overwhelming rush of affection crashes over her. If only she could shake loose the other Bucky’s pearls of pain now that she knows how devastating his smile is.

“Bucky.”

He doesn’t respond, his dark head dipping to ghost lips along the corners of her mouth. She sighs.

“Please, Y/N.”

At that moment, she knows without a doubt she’ll break herself open against his edges and give him all she can, even though he deserves so much more than what she has to offer.

“Yes.”

This is probably my most favourite scene I’ve ever written, and it’s the first thing I wrote for where the wild things are. And this is actually the second version of this scene, I posted the first version a while ago and I’m totally struggling with which one I like better. I might end up combining them which seems like the best option but I don’t know lol. It was originally just supposed to be some hot spring sexy stuff but I just kept adding more and more until it turned into the monster it currently is lol. I wanted people to be able to feel the reluctant longing, the repressed feelings they’ve been fighting, the sigh of relief when they finally give in. I have such an image in my mind of how this looks and I can only hope I translate it into words properly.

Sorry it’s kind of a long one, I got a little carried away lol.

#asks #ask game #fic: where the wild things are #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you

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architectnews · 3 years

Text

Tianfu Exhibition Hall, Chengdu City

Tianfu Exhibition Hall, Chengdu City Modern Building Development, Chinese Architecture Images

Tianfu Exhibition Hall, Chengdu City

23 Jul 2021

Architects: AAI – Monster LAB

Location: Chengdu, China

Tianfu Exhibition Hall, Chengdu City

Definition: Tianfu “Stage” Monster Lab, the new creative studio of AAI International Architecture, won a national design competition for the Chengdu Merchants Urban Planning Exhibition Hall in the New District of Tianfu. As the first exhibition hall and demonstrative project to be built in Tianfu, the project will bear witness to the new area’s progression from empty fields to an economically prosperous urban district, characterized by new skyscrapers and a culturally diverse populace.

Through “refining traditional achievements and expressing future excellence”, we hope that this building, with its mission of showcasing the district’s timeline, will be compatible with Chengdu’s cultural past and speak to the future possibilities of urban development here.

The concept of “stage” came from the fact that in today’s China, new cities are springing up everywhere, with each one advertised as being at the forefront of urban planning concepts. But where is the root of these new cities? We decided to find the answer in the ancient city.

The framework of the building was born out of the theatre, a common public building type in old Chengdu. Typically in these theatres, in the middle of the laneway, under its eaves, the stage space and the overhead space overlap with each other. This forms a dual interaction with the city and spectators: performance and participation (the “stage space” acts as the container of the performance, while the “overhead space” ensures the road below is easily accessible).

We have abstractly interpreted these elements and incorporated a contemporary visual language to renew this spatial structure. In response to the needs of the client, the building has been equally divided into three volumes to exhibit future planning, future business, and future life, respectively. At the intersection of the three volumes, we have designed a shared space called the “Tianfu Stage”. It draws people in and through to overlook a magnificent view of the new city, in accordance with the structural logic of the “stage space” and “overhead space”.

At the same time, people watching the scenery from the “stage” also become “dancers”, being potentially seen from the landscape outside the building. A public observatory has been placed overtop the “stage”, allowing visitors to see higher and farther from the commanding heights of the building.

Site Response: Frame “A city is an ‘ecosystem’ in which the buildings are the animals or plants inhabiting it.” In Monster Lab’s design philosophy, architecture should have vitality, take root like a tree, and absorb the “sunlight, air, and nutrients” of the place, in order to give growth to a unique appearance. This is exactly the approach taken for the design of the Tianfu Stage.

As the project is located east of the CBD (Central Business District) within a green landscape corridor, the site provides an excellent view of the complex cityscape of towers to its west. Taking the pre-existing landscape into account, our design process first assesses existing sightlines, and then rotates and folds each functional volume, in order to arrive at the ideal relationship between people in and around the building, and the scenery surrounding it. Architecture is about defining viewing opportunities and behavior, just as painting is about frames – constraining a boundary and drawing attention to the most essential content. The scenery of the new city is fluid. In “framing” it, we hope to preview its future form, echo and interact with it, and grow together.

We closely follow the planned form of the urban skyline to constrain the height and overall dimensions of the three building volumes. Within the frame of the “stage”, we may witness both the city and the skyline gradually developing into a comprehensive whole, in which the “stage” will be an active part. This is a building derived from and rooted in its place: its design logic is adapted to align with the presence of the surrounding scenery, and the presence of people.

The building also prioritizes visitors’ field of vision in regards to its facade treatment: the areas with better east and west views are clad with large glass curtain walls, while the north and south walls are solid. While the virtual and real coexist, the design suggests a temporary abandonment of redundant interference, allowing the “real” to take priority and letting one’s attention/ line of sight to be focused again.

Chengdu is a city where recreation and enjoying the pleasures of life are commonplace, and its unique climate makes its outdoor spaces particularly well suited for leisurely activities. In the “Tianfu Stage”, we designed an outdoor cinema based on the south-facing solid wall and the landscape space adjacent to it – providing visitors and viewers with multiple participation possibilities, injecting new energy and potential into the architecture and the future development of Chengdu.

Vision: Pull back the “Curtain” Where there is a stage, there will also be a curtain. It represents a pivotal state of “beginning”: the curtain has not yet risen, the lights are dim, and there is no sound; when the curtain goes up, everything that unfolds onstage draws people into a vivid experience, seemingly real and completely immersive. “Tianfu Stage” is based on a new origin of the city, so naturally it follows it also has a “curtain”.

On either side of the “stage”, folded glass façades act as its “curtain”. Their folding forms echo the face-changing folding fan of Chengdu’s characteristic Sichuan Opera. The unique shifting angles of the façades breaks up the scenery reflected on the glass, producing a dramatic kaleidoscope-like effect, allowing the space to “change face” and create surprising patterns for visitors walking past.

In addition, the inwardly inclined cantilevered glass façade forms an ecological self-shading system. There is no need for curtains on the interior, giving people within a free, unencumbered view of the scenery around the building all year round – furthering our intent to have the design take its place within the ecological concept of the park city.

Today, the “Tianfu Stage” has been returned to the city, the public, and time. It will serve as an important public space in the area, acting as a real “stage”- waiting to be filled with interior design, and rejuvenated by human activity and society. Urban life and collective memory are reshaped by the project, given different faces by the growth of the city and landscape… The design completes the space here, with all of its aspects realized to ensure long lasting value to the city and its populace.

Chengdu Merchants Urban Planning Exhibition Hall in the New District of Tianfu – Building Information

Project Location：Yazhou Road, Tianfu Park, Tianfu New District, Chengdu City, Sichuan Province Project Status: Built Architecture Design: AAI – Monster LAB Principle Architects: Zhenfu Zhao, Han Wang Project Director: Qing Sun, Wenqian Jin Design Team : Song Yu、Jie Fang、Zhaomin Cui、Xianfa Wu、Haiying Wang、Wan Wei、Yongqiang Chen、Xingyuan Wu、Meiqing Xue Project Type: Architecture Design Design Period: 2019.10 – 2020.4 Construction Period: 2020.0 – 2020.12 Site Area: 17,929sqm Gross floor area (m2)：9017.5㎡ Interior space area (m2)：9017.5㎡ Client & Investor: (CMSK) Glass facade：Xinyi Glass Lift: KONE Elevator Steal structure: YIYU STEEL STRUCTURE Total Budget: 100 Million RMB

Article Author: Susanna Bai

About the architects Zhenfu Zhao Bachelor of Architecture, Tongji University National First-Class Certified Architect Chief Architect of AAI – Monster Lab

Han Wang Bachelor of Architecture, Zhengzhou University Master of Architecture, Bauhaus School of Architecture, Dessau, Germany Chief Architect of AAI – Monster Lab

About AAI – Monster Lab The city is conceived in the language of architecture, one cannot speak of architecture without the city We believe that the city is an enormous ecosystem, like those in nature, and architecture an “organism” that is bred and grown in this specific ecological environment The differences in various environments create the uniqueness of each building For people, the scale of a building is immense, similar to a massive creature in a monster film, its “belly” filled with various characters We must thoroughly research for each “monster”, to find their best way to dwell in the city Let the city accept it, so that people like it This is our understanding of architecture and cities This is why our team is called Monster Lab, and why we created the Monster Research Institute

Photography： xf photography，INTERPRETATION & SUBLIMATION，LUAN

Tianfu Exhibition Hall, Chengdu City images / information received 230721

Location: 5 Xiyu Street, Qingyang District, Chengdu, 610031, China Phone: +86-28-6521-6666

Architecture in China

Chinese Architecture Designs – chronological list

Chinese Architect Studios – Design Office Listings

Chinese Hotel Buildings

Chengdu Buildings

Chengdu City Music Hall Complex, Wuhou – wins World Architecture Festival Award Architect: Andrew Bromberg at Aedas image from architects Chengdu City Music Hall Complex

Chengdu Tianfu Cultural Centre Design: Massimiliano and Doriana Fuksas Chengdu Tianfu Cultural Centre

Chengdu Tianfu Great City Design: Adrian Smith + Gordon Gill Architecture Chengdu Tianfu Great City

Linked Hybrid Design: Steven Holl Architects Linked Hybrid

Bank of Chéngdu Headquarters Design: Nikken Sekkei Bank of Chéngdu Headquarters

Chinese Buildings – Selection:

Chengdu Museum building

Chengdu, China is the capital of southwestern China’s Sichuan province.

Comments / photos for the Tianfu Exhibition Hall, Chengdu City page welcome

Canopy by Hilton in Chengdu City

The post Tianfu Exhibition Hall, Chengdu City appeared first on e-architect.

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nightwingswing · 7 years

Text

“Run,baby, run” (Eobard Thawne x reader)

Hello my little wings!

Here you have a sequel to this (x) one-shot!

Requested by: @bartallenisbae

Request: Hey I was wondering if you could kinda maybe write a sequel to Give her back about the reader ending up pregnant and tells eobard and he goes major protective mode and maybe 6 months or something barry finds them and is not sure if he should take thawne to jail or let him be with his growing family. Ps love your writing

@bartallenisbae i hope you like it!

Tags: @hamsterforlive @plethora-of-things @wonderlace19

Prequel

Enjoy!

It’s been 3 years since you and Eobard fled to Europe, he had started working in a high school and you in a (f/j). You two had been happily married for a year now, and you had wonderful news for Eobard.

“Darling, I’m back!” He said as he came in, kissing your lips sweetly. “Had a good day?”

“A wonderful one indeed.” You smiled and kissed him sweetly.

“Aw babe, that’s great. I bought supper in the way here. I knew you would be tired.” He let a bag on the kitchen table from the (f/r) near your house. You kissed him passionately.

He smirked and bought you closer, hugging you from the waist.

“You know what day it is?” He smirked.

“Our four-year anniversary” You smiled at him, your hand caressing his cheek.

“Have a present for you.”

“Oh? And what is it??” You smiled and he let a little box in your hand. You opened it and found a little pendant. “It’s beautiful…thank you Eo.” You kissed him. “I got one for you too.” You let a bigger box in his arms.

“Aw babe…you didn’t have to.” He opened the box and his mouth opened.

Inside was a little black and yellow onesie and a pregnancy test.

“A-it’s-you’re pregnant??!” He smiled at you nod and hugged you tightly, showering your face with kisses. “Thank you!! Thank you!!”

“Eo” You laughed as his lips kissed you over and over again. “I love you”

“I love you too!!” He kissed you passionately and hugged you tight. “I’ll be a good dad for him, I promise.” He smiled and you kissed his nose.

He laid you down on the bed and cuddled you until you feel asleep.

///*\\\

Months passed and your belly had grown, Eobard was in a “papa mood”

And god, was he cute.

“Hello, love! I got your (f/f)!!! how are my favorite persons on earth???” He smiled as he laid your food in front of you.

“We are doing fin, how was work.” You smiled as he kissed your belly and then your lips.

“Miserable.” He looked at your eyes. “Because you weren’t with me.” You snorted and started eating. He got up and kissed your head. “I’m going to shower, be back in reverse flash.”

“Oh, god. Eo that one was so bad.” You snorted again.

“But you love it.” He smirked and winked, while walking to the bathroom.

You smiled as you finished your food, setting the trail in the table next to you.

Eobard came five minutes later, dressed in a pair of comfortable pants and a t-shirt.

“Hello babe, baby.” He laid himself in between your legs, his hands around your waist as he kissed your belly. “Hey baby, I can’t wait until I can meet you. I’m sure you’ll be as cute and pretty as your mommy. And, you’ll be safe…so very safe. I love you.” He kissed your belly as you smiled warmly at him, then suddenly, the baby kicked where his dad’s mouth was.

“Was-was that?” Eobard mouth was agape looking at your belly.

“The baby just kicked for the first time.” You smiled as tear clouded your eyes. Eobard smiled and kissed you lovingly, his hands wiped the happy tears of your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you two, too” He smiled and hugged you. You cuddled in his chest and feel asleep.

///*\\\

“Seriously Barry it’s been 3 years. Let it go.” Cisco said.

“No! (Y/n) can be in trouble! Thawne is a murderer! She’s in danger!” Barry yelled.

“We didn’t receive any metal human activity! He’s laying low! (y/n) makes him better! They are in love, bro let it go! Unless…no.”

Barry glared at him. “no.”

“You’re jealous ... oh my god you are jealous! You liked (y/n)!!”

“Shut up Cisco!” Barry blushed. “I’m just worried she disappear for 3 years with a criminal!” Cisco looked at Barry with a sad look.

“Just..find them..so I can save (y/n). “Barry changed into his suit and ran off to stop a heist in the bank.

Cisco sighed sadly and started typing down.

“Where are you (y/n)...”

///*\\\

A few months passed like seconds, Eobard and you went out to buy baby clothes, a crib and diapers, towels etc.

“Maybe it should be yellow…” Eo mumbled.

“No, the yellow is a very strong color for a baby. I thin pastel blue or green will be great.” You said as you pulled the paint inside your cart.

“Okay baby… When is your new appointment? “He asked as he pulled the cart.

“hum…. Tomorrow. We’ll finally know the babies sex…” you smiled and Eobard hugged your waists.

“Love you.” He smiled.

“I love you more.” You smiled back.

You two paid for the things and Eo drive back home.

///*\\\

The next day, Eobard asked for a day free to go to your appointment with you.

Eobard made breakfast for you and helped you getting ready. Then he held your hand and smiled, leading you to the car.

Once in the doctor, he was chewing his lips in nervousness while waiting for the doctor to call you.

“MISS THAWNE?” The doctor called and Eobard’s hold on your hand tightened.

“Ready?” You smiled at him.

“Yes.” He kissed your lips chastely and the two walked inside the doc’s dispatch.

“Hello, miss. You’re ready to cheek on your baby?” The doctor smiled gently.

“Yes, we are,” You smiled back at her.

“Okay, sit on the chair please.” The doctor smiled as Eobard helped you sit. She raised your shirt over your belly and applied the cold gel. “It’s cold, eh?”

“Yes” You hissed, Eobard hold your hand between his.

“Okay, let’s see…” The doctor started looking for your baby, you smiled at the screen where your baby was going to show. Eobard’s eyes couldn’t tear from it, his hold in your hand tightened when the doctor smiled and you two could see your baby clearly.

“That is your little baby. Do you wish to finally know the sex of the baby?”

“Yes.” You two said, without looking away from the screen.

“…Congratulations it’s a girl.” The doctor smiled at you two, you couldn’t hold back and happy tears fell from your eyes. Eobard smiled big and hugged you, kissing your lips over and over again. “Do you wish to have a photo of the baby?”

“Yes, please.” Eo said, kissing your tears. The doctor nodded and let the two of you alone. Eobard helped you stand and kissed you hard.

“God, I love you so much.” He said, and weld your belly.

“I love you so much too.” You smiled in the kiss.

When the doctor came back, you two were sitting together and smiling at each other. The doctor smiled and gave you the photo.

“We’ll see again next month okay? If you have any troubles come here immediately.”

“We will.” He smiled.

“See you soon, doctor.”

“Be safe Miss Thawne.” She smiled.

The two of your left the clinic holding hands and smiling.

Since then, he never leaves you alone.

He feared someone was going to swipe you away.

He didn’t know yet what was coming.

///*\\\

You were already 8 months pregnant, and while Eo was making dinner you stand in front of the mirror on your room, naked.

Eobard after calling you several times got worried and enetered the room.

“Love what-“

“Am I fat?”

“No, love you’re beautiful.”

“I am fat, you don’t love me anymore.”

“Nonsense! (Y/N) You’re the most beautiful girl on earth! I love you. I love you so much I rather stay here than go back to the future. I’ll love you always, I don’t care for your physical look. I always will love you and this baby” He put his hands above yours in your belly and looked at your reflexes. “This baby, will be the most beautiful, amazing, loved, cherished, perfect baby. Just like her mom.” He kissed you. “I love you, I cherish you, I adore you, you’re perfect, talented, I’ve loved you since I first saw you.”

“Eo…” You smiled and started crying. “I love you too.” She smiled at the image of your hands joined together in your belly. He kissed your naked shoulders and helped you dress in your comfortable yoga pants and his t-shirt.

He holds your hands to the dining room, where your favorite food was ready. Eobard helped you sit in the table and looked at you dreamily as you eat.

“I love you.”

“Me too.”

///*\\\

Everything came undone when you were 9 months pregnant.

You asked Eobard to bring you new baby towels as the first one you had bought got ruined. He smiled and drove to the store to find it closed, the nearest open store was pretty far, he decided he was going to run there, thinking nobody would notice.

He was, oh so very wrong.

///*\\\

“My radar picked a trail of a speedster!!” Cisco said.

“Where!?”

“ In-“ Barry looked at the location and ran away more quickly than usual, leaving Cisco mid-sentence. “Aaand he’s gone…huh, I guess this is how Commissioner Gordon feels”

///*\\\

You were sitting in the couch when a red blob whisked you away.

“B-Barry?!” You yelled.

“I’m saving you (y/n)!” He said

“Barry you’re hurting me!!” You yelled- “My baby!!!”

Barry stopped dead in his tacks. “P-pregnant?!”

“Barry why!? Get me to my house right this instant! My husband is about to come!!”

“H-husband?! You married that monster!!!?”

“I love him!!!!”

“Hes a killer!!!!!!!”

“LET HER GO ALLEN!” Zoom materialized himself in front of you.

“YOU KIDNAPED HER!!”

“I WENT WITH HIM ALL ON MY OWN! I LOVE HIM!”

“ALLEN GET AWAY FROM US! I HAVENT DONE ANYTHING WRONG! IM LIVING MY LIFE!”

“YOUR LIFE BELONGS IN PRISON!!!”

“Barry, no!! Please! Go back to Central! Let us be!!” You pleaded.

“Sorry, (n/n) but he is coming with me, he’s staying in prison for good”

“Never!, im not leaving my wife alone!”

The two started fighting when suddenly you feel something dripping down your legs and a strong pain in your stomach.

“E-Eobard..my water..” The two stopped fighting when they saw you face. “My water..broke.” Eo’s face froze.

“OH GOD, BABY LETS GO! ALLEN BE USEFUL GO TO OUR HOUSE AND GRAB THE BAG!” Eobard speed off to the hospital.

“MY BABY IS COMING!!!!!!!!!” He yelled and a nurse came with a wheelchair wheeling you inside, with Eobard hot in her trail. They put you inside a room and helped you lay with your legs wide open.

A nurse didn’t let Eobard pass inside, but he in the end glared and made his way in. He sat next to you and held your hand tight and kissed your sweaty forehead.

“Miss Thawne, now I’m going to ask you to breath evenly and push, okay?” The doctor said as she put her rubber gloves, she sat in front of your legs and said. “Push! I can see her head.”

You were in labor for a few hours until the final push came.

“Miss, you have it! One final push!!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Your scream came followed by two other screams.

“BUAAHHHHHHHHH!” The babies obviously.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHH SHES SO CUTEEEE!” and

Yep

Eobard’s

Eobard kissed your front as you breathed heavily meanwhile the nurses took the baby girl away to clean her up.

“Wait, where are you taking my baby! They’re stealing my baby!!1” Eo screamed. You put your hand on his face and smiled.

“They are just going to clean her.” You kissed him and he smiled.

“okay, but if they hurt her I’m hunting them down.” The nurses ran to clean her and after a few minutes they came back with your baby girl roped in a soft blanked, they laid her on your arms and she soon clenched her little hand around your gown.

“She’s beautiful…” Eo said, with tears in his eyes, “Hello little one, I’m your daddy...” He smiled softly as her baby hand grabbed his finger. You smiled at him and he kissed you softly. “Thank you.”

“Why?” You smiled.

“For loving me, for being my everything, for giving me this chance, for this precious little girl…. just, thank you. I love you. “He kissed you again as Barry came inside. He saw you face glowing in happiness and Thawne’s loving smile. You smiled at him and signal him closer, he smiled and came closer and looked at the baby, who grabbed his finger and blabbed and suddenly felt like he was the monster.

He’s trying to destroy a family.

He’s trying to let a baby so young fatherless.

He’s going to wreak a family.

Eobard sighs sadly. “I’ll go with you Allen, just let my wife and daughter alone.”

“No, eo..please Barry..” You implored.

Barry sighed. “No. You can stay.”

“What-for real?” Eobard said, confused.

“Yes. Just-If you do something bad again I will throw you in prison forever!” You held his hand and smiled.

“Thank you, Barry.” He blushed a bit and smiled back.

“Now, I’ll go and tell the others you’re safe. Bye (n/n)” He kissed your forehead and left.

You smiled at your baby as she made a sound, Eobard kissed her little forehead and your lips.

“I love you both.” He smiled

“We love you too.” You smiled back.

And you two fond in a sweet kiss.

The end.

Bonus!

“HELLOOOOO (Y/N)!!! “ Cisco said as he stomped in your home.

“Cisco!” You said as you were getting (b/n) asleep. “The baby is sleeping.”

“buaahhhhh!!” She cried

“Guess not anymore.” Caitlin said, entering with Iris and a teddy bear half their size.

“Hello, Iris, Cait. Gigant teddy bear.” You smiled.

“It’s for the baby!” They let the beat in the ground and kissed your cheeks.

“Its my present too!” Cisco said.

“Oh my gosh! She’s so cute!!!” Iris said, looking at the baby girl.

“She’s the cutes baby!” Caitlin smiled. “Congrats (y/n).”

“Thanks, Cait.”

“Hey, (y/n) “Barry kissed your forehead. “I couldn’t stop them, they obliged me to tell them.”

“No problem, I missed them.” You smiled.

“Here, I hope this little (f/a) plushie can compare to their beast of a plushie.” Barry smiled as you took the plushie and gave it to (b/n) who clutched it close.

“She likes it” You smiled.

“AWWW GROUP HUG!!!”

“CISCO!”

“BUAAAAAAAAH”

Bonus! X2

Eobard came home after grocery shopping and freeze in the door.

“Hey love.” You smiled while feeding your baby girl.

“What the hell is doing a real size bear in or living room.”

“…”

“It’s our new roommate.”

“Let me guess, Iris Caitlin and Cisco.”

“…”

“Yep.”

The end

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jungblue · 7 years

Text

she is of crimson petals.

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: angst, gore / vampire, hanahaki au

warnings: mentions of blood, death, and murder

word count: 1,559

description: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. + “It reminded me of you.”

Taehyung had seen enough red in his lifetime to fill the Mississippi, the bloody current carrying the endless stream of bodies down the river of his past. They drifted in mangled pieces of splintered limbs and tattered flesh, the water unable to submerge the vast quantity of his indiscretions. His years of ripping and raging proved to be too much for the great river, even in the metaphorical confinements of his head it seemed. They littered the washed up crevices of his mind, tainting the cerulean memories that reminded him of the few good moments of his last two-hundred and eighty-seven years.

Of course, Taehyung had never been one for remorse in these types of situations. Once he was turned, his conscious took a backseat, so much so that he couldn’t even remember the disposition he’d wielded as a human. He imagined that he must’ve been the same cold-hearted, apathetic, monster that he was today. To him body count was a number on a similar wavelength to temperature, throw-away information that was constantly changing, just in Taehyung’s case it was only moving in the upward direction. His killings may have slowed since that first century or so thanks to a certain friend, but relapses were inevitable. Every couple of decades he found himself once again being consumed by the insatiable lust of his instincts, the water dragging him down the river, his bodies in tow.

That was just who Taehyung was; a killer.

His life was defined by red. From the blood that dripped down his chin as bits of flesh nestled their way between his teeth, to the way his eyes burned with fire as his hunger began to snap. His life was engulfed in that toxic color of necessity — even in this very moment, it was all he could see.

It was scattered around him as he sat with his back against the wall of his room, the floors covered in crimson. He sighed, feeling the continuous burn at the base of his throat. He tried to shove it down, willing the evidence of his perceived one true sin to stay aching in the pit of his belly. He of course knew that it was pointless, he’d been living with this infliction for quite some time now, so he was perfectly aware of how futile these attempts were. But Taehyung would do anything to try and forget the guilt, because that was an emotion that he had been unaccustomed to for so long, and one that he’d unfortunately had to learn again.

Suddenly he was heaving, clutching at his neck as they clung to his throat forcibly until his lap was painted red. They kept coming and coming, tears pricking slightly from the task of hacking them up, and he slammed his head back against the wall once they were finally done.

Taehyung wasn’t sure how humans dealt with this disease exactly. When it started it seemingly came for hours, and he of course had no need for breathing, but regular people did. So he’d always wondered how they managed to fare when it started slicing its way up their throats, stealing the air around them.

How did their feeble, beating hearts manage to keep going at the sight of those torturous petals?

He glanced down at his lap, the red tulips wet and crushed as they stared back at him — fitting, he thought to himself as the image flashed behind his eyes. He reached down, picking up some of the flowers that hadn’t been badly damaged as they’d risen like bile from his throat. He brought it closer to his face, eyeing the guilt-infested personification before him. It was the same shade as that lipstick you used to wear. The montage of it smudging across his mouth and everywhere else on his body sent another jolt to his diseased core.

He couldn’t help but think about how much he loved, yet hated this infliction of needing someone so much that their lack of presence caused petals to forcibly fall from his lips. It was painful, and it reminded him of everything that he’d done and wished he could take back, but at least it reminded him that it was real and that he hadn’t just imagined those years in his grand scheme of immortal years.

He brought the tulip to his mouth, running the petals along his teeth before biting down harshly, the flower shattering beneath him, and again, that was fitting. He eyed along the carpeted flooring, red surrounding him, as it had almost his entire life.

Taehyung had confined himself in his room for the day, due to the fact that he knew this was coming. It could have been hours, but he wasn’t actually sure. His mind was on another level every time he was forced to throw you up from the depths of his belly. The only measure of how long it’d been being the shift of the sun’s shadow as it filtered through the curtain.

Taehyung heard Jimin coming well before his multi-century long friend even shut the front door to the house, signaling his return. He tilted his head towards the entrance to the bedroom right before it opened to reveal Jimin holding a backpack that smelled of blood. His eyes widened at the messy array of tulips along the floor. Taehyung wasn’t exactly sure why Jimin seemed surprised. He’d been dealing with this for a very long time, but at least his friend had been there right beside him through the entirety of it all, never leaving him behind, even on days such as this one.

“Christ, Tae,” Jimin whispered, starting his way across the room, stepping on some of the flowers in the process, making Taehyung flinch. Jimin offered the bag, and Taehyung reluctantly took it, unzipping it to pull out a water bottle full of blood.

“Where’d you get this? Some random guy from the park?” Taehyung asked before taking a sip.

“Uhm, no. I got it from one of my Commens. That’s top shit, dude.”

Commen, short for commensalism, a term of nature between two organisms where one of them benefits while the other is neither hurt nor helped. That was the deal between vampires and their Commens, they got to feed on them without force, but never enough that it would lead to their death… Of course, accidents were bound to happen every once in a while. Jimin had several Commens. That allowed him the privilege of not having to kill randoms in the city for blood, but every once in a while when his frustrations were beyond satiable or if he was just bored, the two would go out on hunts to vent.

“Plus…” Jimin started again, gaining a somber expression as he took a seat next to Taehyung on the floor. “You always say how one of them looks a little like Y/N, so now every time I see her she reminds me of you, so thought maybe it’d help somehow,” He shrugged with a sad smile, conveying that he knew very well that nothing would help, but he had to at least try.

The blood that was in the water bottle was admittedly good, not the best he’d ever had, but Taehyung had long accepted that nothing would ever compare to that.

“Thanks, man,” Taehyung sighed, drinking down the red until it was empty and then he was grabbing for another bottle from the backpack.

“It’s fine,” Jimin said, fiddling with the tulips that scattered the floor around him. “But you think you’re ever gonna get over this Twilight shit?” Jimin laughed, trying to lighten the mood and Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Who knows,” Taehyung shrugged. “If I haven’t by now, then it doesn’t seem likely.”

Jimin frowned at that, picking up one of the flowers to peel the petals apart. “Yeah, it’s been a long time.”

“Yup.”

The memory that’d been carved into his psyche began to flash vividly. Blood, so much blood, but that was nothing new in Taehyung’s life. The screams though, those were different. They were different because usually he didn’t care, but these… These were still ringing in his ears, even after so much passed time.

“What’s today, again? How long?”

The question pulled the river back to the surface. The hundreds and hundreds of lifeless bodies that floated in the waters of Taehyung’s metaphorical morgue began to crash against the banks. They were overflowing, rose-tinted waters sloshing violently onto the grass. He was floating with them, basking in the bloodied water that ran through his veins. He eyed the death around him, not able to recognize even a single face. He had killed all of these people, and yet he couldn’t remember anything about them, not even what they looked like — that is until the river starts to come to its end.

Taehyung’s lips formed into a straight line, eyes stinging, throat burning. He maneuvered his way through the bodies, and as he got closer, the flowers appeared. There were hundreds of them, all leading to the head of the river where they were crashing onto the land — onto your body.

You laid mangled, gory, and lifeless on the edge, a path of red tulips leading Taehyung to your demise — the demise he had caused to his beloved bond.

“Twenty-three. Twenty-three years today.”

after note: possibly a full scenario in the future just bc as I wrote this I found the idea of it really interesting and something that maybe I want to explore further~

#bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenarios #bts angst #taehyung angst #kpop fanfic #bangtan

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dccomicsnews · 7 years

Text

DC Comics News has compiled a list of DC Comics titles and collectibles shipping to comic shops for August 23, 2017.

Check back every Friday with the DC Comics News Pull Box to see all the cool new DC Comics titles and collectibles that will be available at your favorite local comic shop! So, what titles or collectibles will you be picking up this Wednesday? You can sound off in the comments section below! Click on Comic shop Locator to find the comic shop nearest to you!

COMICS

ACTION COMICS #986 $2.99 BATGIRL #14 $3.99 BATMAN BEYOND #11 $3.99 BATMAN THE SHADOW #5 (OF 6) $3.99 BLUE BEETLE #12 $3.99 DETECTIVE COMICS #963 $2.99 FLASH #29 $2.99 HAL JORDAN AND THE GREEN LANTERN CORPS #27 $2.99 HARLEY QUINN #26 $2.99 HELLBLAZER #13 $3.99 KAMANDI CHALLENGE #8 (OF 12) $3.99 MANHUNTER SPECIAL #1 $4.99 MOTHER PANIC #10 (MR) $3.99 NIGHTWING THE NEW ORDER #1 (OF 6) $3.99 SCOOBY DOO TEAM UP #29 $2.99 SUICIDE SQUAD #24 $2.99 TEEN TITANS #11 $3.99

DCN Pull Box Triple Spotlight

ACTION COMICS #986 $2.99

Rob Williams (A) Guillem March (CA) Neil Edwards, Jay Leisten

“ONLY HUMAN” part two! The inhumanities of Earth put even Superman’s trust to the test as he and Lex Luthor begin to see a pattern emerging that points to Mr. Oz and his agents. When Lex confronts Mr. Oz alone, one walks away changed forever.

NIGHTWING THE NEW ORDER #1 (OF 6) $3.99

Kyle Higgins (A/CA) Trevor McCarthy

NIGHTWING: THE NEW ORDER is the story of a future world without “weapons”-where superpowers have been eliminated and outlawed. The man responsible? None other than Dick Grayson, a.k.a. Nightwing, now leader of a government task force called the Crusaders who are charged with hunting the remaining Supers. But when events transpire which turn the Crusaders’ aim toward Grayson’s own family, the former Boy Wonder must turn against the very system he helped create, with help from the very people he’s been hunting for years-the last metahumans of the DC Universe. Don’t miss this bold new vision from the team behind the New York Times bestseller BATMAN: GATES OF GOTHAM!

KIRBY 100 HC LTD ED $45.95

The party starts here! TwoMorrows and the Jack Kirby Collector magazine celebrate Jack Kirby’s 100th birthday in style with the release of KIRBY100, a full-color visual holiday for the King of comics! It features an all-star line-up of 100 comics pros who critique key images from Kirby’s 50-year career, admiring his page layouts, dramatics, and storytelling skills, and lovingly reminiscing about their favorite characters and stories. Featured are Bruce Timm, Alex Ross, Walter Simonson, John Byrne, Alan Davis, Joe Sinnott, Steve Rude, Adam Hughes, Wendy Pini, John Romita Sr., Dave Gibbons, P. Craig Russell, and dozens more of the top names in comics. Their essays serve to honor Jack’s place in comics history, and prove (as if there’s any doubt) that Kirby is King! This double-length book is edited by John Morrow and Jon B. Cooke, with a Kirby cover inked by Mike Royer.

Variant Covers

Note: Variant Prices To Be Determined By Retailer

ACTION COMICS #986 (Guillem March variant) $2.99 BATGIRL #14 (Joshua Middleton variant) $3.99 BATMAN BEYOND #11 (Martin Ansin variant) $3.99 BATMAN THE SHADOW #5 (OF 6) (Mattina variant) $3.99 BATMAN THE SHADOW #5 (OF 6) (Tim Sale variant) $3.99 BLUE BEETLE #12 (Tyler Kirkman variant) $3.99 DETECTIVE COMICS #963 (Raphael Albuquerque variant) $2.99 FLASH #29 (Neil Googe variant) $2.99 HAL JORDAN AND THE GREEN LANTERN CORPS #27 (Cully Hamner variant) $2.99 HARLEY QUINN #26 (Frank Cho variant) $2.99 HELLBLAZER #13 (Yasmine Putri variant) $3.99 KAMANDI CHALLENGE #8 (OF 12) (Steve Rude variant) $3.99 MOTHER PANIC #10 (Sana Takeda variant) $3.99 NIGHTWING THE NEW ORDER #1 (OF 6)(Paul Pope variant) $3.99 SUICIDE SQUAD #24 (Whilce Portacio variant) $2.99 TEEN TITANS #11 (Chad Hardin variant) $3.99

GRAPHIC NOVEL

LOONEY TUNES GREATEST HITS TP VOL 03 BEEP BEEP $12.99 NEW TEEN TITANS TP VOL 07 $19.99 WONDER WOMAN TP VOL 03 THE TRUTH (REBIRTH) $16.99

MAGAZINES

PACESETTER GEORGE PEREZ MAG #15 PEREZ CELEBRATING WONDER WOMAN $10.95

Tony Lorenz, Various (A) Various (A/CA) George Perez

The Pacesetter returns with this special issue featuring a retrospective of George Perez’s legendary run on DC’s Wonder Woman! The issue includes new interviews, articles and quotes from an all-star list of writers and artists including: Daryl Banks, Brian Michael Bendis, Tom Brevoort, Kurt Busiek, Allan Heinberg. Jamal Igle, Dan Jurgens, Ron Marz, Brad Meltzer, Scott Kolins, Andy Schmidt, Tom Smith, Tom Grummett, Marv Wolfman and Jim Zub. Also in this issue is an exclusive interview with legendary artist, George Perez, along with rare artwork, games and plenty of surprises!

BOOKS

DC SUPER HERO GIRLS WELCOME TO SUPER HERO HIGH $4.99 KIRBY 100 HC LTD ED $45.95 KIRBY 100 SC $34.95

MERCHANDISE/COLLECTIBLES

HARRY POTTER DEATH EATER DARK MARK LAPEL PIN $4.99 HARRY POTTER HOGWARTS BATTLE MONSTER BATTLE EXP $29.95 TOON TUMBLERS ARROW TV BIG BELLY BURGER GLASS $10.99 TOON TUMBLERS FLASH TV STAR LABS GLASS $10.99 WONDER WOMAN MOVIE ARES 28IN SWORD COSTUME PROP $14.99 WONDER WOMAN MOVIE SWORD PX LETTER OPENER $25.00

ACTION FIGURES/STATUES

DC BOMBSHELLS SER 2 VINYL FIG ASST $29.99 DC BOMBSHELLS SER2 BATWOMAN VINYL FIGURE $29.99 DC BOMBSHELLS SER2 POISON IVY VINYL FIGURE $29.99 DC BOMBSHELLS SER2 SUPERGIRL VINYL FIGURE $29.99 DC UNIVERSE THE KILLING JOKE JOKER ARTFX STATUE 2ND EDITION $99.99 IMAGINEXT DC SUPER FRIENDS BATMAN BATTLEBOT $PI POP BATMAN ANIMATED BANE VINYL FIGURE $11.99 POP BATMAN ANIMATED CATWOMAN VINYL FIGURE $11.99 POP BATMAN ANIMATED CLAYFACE VINYL FIGURE $11.99 POP BATMAN ANIMATED PHANTASM VINYL FIG $10.99 POP BATMAN ANIMATED ROBOT BATMAN VINYL FIGURE $11.99 POP BATMAN ANIMATED SCARECROW VINYL FIGURE $11.99 POP JUSTICE LEAGUE MOVIE AQUAMAN VINYL FIG $10.99 POP JUSTICE LEAGUE MOVIE BATMAN VINYL FIG $10.99 POP JUSTICE LEAGUE MOVIE CYBORG VINYL FIG $10.99 POP JUSTICE LEAGUE MOVIE FLASH VINYL FIG $10.99 POP JUSTICE LEAGUE MOVIE SUPERMAN VINYL FIG $10.99 POP JUSTICE LEAGUE MOVIE WONDER WOMAN VINYL FIG $10.99 WONDER WOMAN MOVIE WONDER WOMAN ARTFX STATUE $139.99

CLOTHING

BATMAN LOGO HEXSHINE 5950 FITTED CAP 7 1/2 $37.99 BATMAN LOGO HEXSHINE 5950 FITTED CAP 7 5/8 $37.99 DARK KNIGHT FACE BY MILLER T/S XL $19.95 SUPERMAN BREAKTHROUGH BY ROSS T/S SM $19.95 SUPERMAN LOGO HEXSHINE 5950 FITTED CAP 7 5/8 $37.99

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DC Comics Pull Box For 8-23-17 (New Comics and Merchandise) DC Comics News has compiled a list of DC Comics titles and collectibles shipping to comic shops for August 23, 2017.

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minotaurys · 7 years

Text

Jamie was going to lose his mind soon, if the shark didn’t come back and eat someone already. He found himself praying to whatever god heard a pirate’s prayers, wishing for a glimpse of sharp teeth and claws. Something to break the endless monotony of sleeping, warming himself by the fire, and occasionally speaking with the other occupants. Trying to count the grains of sand had failed, and taking inventory of his freckles and moles had only distracted him for what felt like a minute. Maybe less.

Used to the hustle of a busy ship and roar of cannon fire, the silence was deafening. His restlessness was beginning to wear on the others too. It wasn’t hard to see Gabriel roll his eyes every time the blonde got to his feet, muttering about shifting sand, and stumbled his way across the little island to build himself a new nest. Over the fire, several little fish were roasting on sticks. The pool must have had a direct outlet to the ocean, because the pond was teeming with sea life that darted in and out of the shallow pool of light.

He’d found one way to be useful, at least- he could descale and clean a fish in about a minute, if he rushed and didn’t care too much about where the knife was going. It was a pleasant realization, that they wouldn’t starve in this little cave, even if he would give his good leg for a bit of salt or other seasoning for the fish. Admittedly, it hadn’t occurred to him to ask where they were getting food from, even though they said they’d been here for weeks.

Maybe, with the giant cask of fresh water that the merman had obviously set out, he’d been expecting him to lug in a breakfast, lunch, and dinner meal. Fatten up his pigs before harvesting and all that.

The only way to keep track of time was with the rise and fall of the tide. There was a line in the sand of their island, clearly marking where the water swelled at high tide. Watching the waves roll in and out was the only activity to be found in the place, other than catching a few fish to delay the inevitable. He saw Ana fussing with the seaweed at one point, weaving multiple strands together until she had something resembling a bandage. Probably one of those just-in-case type things.

The few times Jamie actually managed to drift off to sleep, he dreamed of huge, leathery hands and sharp teeth that tore his stomach apart. There were bruises spanning the whole length of his torso from the monster pushing on him, each of the creature’s fingers visible on his pale skin. He poked at the wounds from time to time, reveling in the ache of his ribs. What he wouldn’t give to be as big as the merman was. Crush everything underfoot.

That was the plan though, wasn’t it? Convince the merman that he was worth more alive than dead. Get the thing to help him find the treasure, before anyone else could. Jamie would get himself a huge fucking bodyguard, one that no one would ever dare mess with, and enough riches to last several lifetimes. The possibility that the merman would just eat him didn’t even cross his mind, enamored as he was with the idea of gold bangles on his wrists and a crown set among blonde locks. They’d all hail him as a fucking king, if only for fear of being devoured by the huge, loyal fish he kept in his palace.

There was more than one way to catch a fish, as they said!

Well, probably said. Someone, probably. Once.

They were cooking up a new batch of fish, runty things that had darted too close to the surface for their own good, when the water stirred. It was high tide, the edge of the surf looming threateningly around their bonfire. It had never gone out, never actually been touched by the water’s icy fingers, but he had an irrational fear of the water rising just a little farther one day. Taking their only source of light out and plunging them into a darkness so deep, they’d never see death coming.

Everyone in the cave immediately straightened, taking a few, instinctive steps backwards when the monster’s fin appeared to cut through the surface of the water. A foul stench filled the cave, speaking of rot and decay that made him curl his nose in disgust. Now that he wasn’t trying to relearn how to breathe, Rat had the opportunity to admire the monster a little while longer.

He was as big as he remembered, his human half rising probably six feet out of the water. His belly was huge and the brown skin was covered in intricate, swirling images of loops and whorls. Jamie squinted at them, unable to parse the image of the mythic merman with what looked like tattoos covering every inch of his exposed skin. Today the long silver hair was tied back and the shark’s mask was on full display.

Rows of cruel, jagged teeth covered most of the face, the jaws of the shark long broken and forced into an unsettling grin. It’s eyes were missing from the sockets, and instead there were rows of stitches that lined the skin, holding the entire mask in place.

For a moment, Jamie had the absurd image of the merman sitting and stitching at his mask, sipping from a teacup as he worked to get his needlework just right. He fought the urge to laugh in the completely silent room, muffled giggles slipped out from clenched lips. Ana quickly shot him a look.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something silver go racing past, and felt the rush of air against his skin. There was a snapping sound, and he heard a grunt, before the silver was joined by a flash of pink. A fishing hook, far larger than any he’d ever seen before, had wrapped around her body and the point was in her upper arm. A length of rusted chain was attached, which ever so slowly began to tow her towards the water’s edge and the merman’s waiting claws. A convenient way to get a ready-to-serve meal.

The woman fought every inch, digging her heels into the sand and struggling back towards the bonfire. A spray of blood caught Jamie’s cheek from the gash on her arm, where the sharp edge was pulling insistently with every tug. Muscle shredded beneath the foreign object, throbbing and pink.

Somehow the two reached a standstill on the sand, Zarya holding her ground just out of reach and the creature struggling at the water’s edge to pull her the last little bit towards him. The pirate felt a sense of awe settle over him as he watched her wrestle at the hook, attempting to twist of it’s embrace while playing the world’s deadliest game of tug of war.

When the sand had been dyed bright red, he was the merman shift and drag itself partially on the sand. Those eyes in the back of the shark mask were once again reflecting the light of the fire, and he could see pupils that took up almost the whole surface. The scent of blood must have been too tempting for it to wait, for it scrambled as much out of the water as it was able to, grabbing for Zarya. One huge hand closed around her wounded bicep and she screamed in pain as he pulled her to him, already shifting back to slide into the pool and bring his prey with him.

Jamie’s attention was caught by movement, again in the corner of his eye, again shiny silver. The solider was edging his way around the sandbar slowly, sneaking up on the creature’s other side as Zarya wrestled for freedom. He suddenly felt a surge of fear in his gut, for his soon-to-be partner. Maybe this would actually work. Maybe the shark would suffocate on the sandbar and he’d lose the best chance he’d ever have to be rich.

But if he acted to help the merman, they others would know he was plotting against them.

Nah, not plotting against them. More like banking on the fact that they’d wind up dead.

They’d know, and they would leave him behind on this sandbar, to catch fish and slowly drink the rest of the fresh water, until he died alone and starving.

Gabriel pounced in one fluid movement, arms locking around the creature’s head. He tugged backwards, pulling him away from Zarya, and the merman bellowed in surprise at the intrusion, shaking like a dog to try and throw the man off. Taking the opportunity, the muscular woman ran forward, ripping the hook out of her own arm so she could stab the tip deep into the shark’s belly. It roared again, angry. Ana stepped up cautiously behind Gabriel, needle ready in her hand. Jamie hoped the creature’s wild flailing would knock it from her hands, the serum lost to the depths of the pool.

In the most bizarre hug he’d ever witnessed, Zarya stepped forward to clasp her arms around the creature’s middle, muscles straining to hold it still as it thrashed and writhed. It was clear she wouldn’t be able to hold it for long- her arms were trembling with the effort and she was already pale with blood loss, the upper mass of her arm a bloody pulp of stringy muscle and bone. The pirate was surprised she could manage to use the limb at all.

Ana slid the needle home in the shark’s neck, in a gap that the stitched-together mask hadn’t managed to cover entirely. It stiffened at the feeling and suddenly slumped in the human’s hold, massive dead weight that threatened to crush Zarya and topple Gabe. Knowing he’d be expected to help, Jamie scrambled forward to help the pink-haired woman away from the body, his peg leg slipping in the mixture of blood and sand the ground had become.

Things went from loud to quiet extremely quickly and he was left reeling in the return of the silence as all the humans stared at each other, unsure of what to do now that their grand plan had actually succeeded. Jamie was almost disappointed in how easy the shark had gone down, but he supposed that was that. He was stuck with these yahoos until further notice.

The old woman rushed over to Zarya and began to press on her wound, head searching for the seaweed she’d been messing with earlier. Gabe pulled his shirt over his head and swirled it around in the water before she found it. Hopefully that would be better for the wound than whatever sand and dirt clung to him. She stuffed it directly into the gash and the Russian screamed as salt passed into her open shoulder, face going red from the effort of staying conscious.

Jamie bit his lip, watching the spectacle unfold, before he turned back to the creature. He should probably start pulling it up further on the sand, just to eliminate any chance of it waking up and wiggling back into the pool.

To his great horror, it was moving. For such a large thing, the merman moved surprisingly quickly and it reached out to snag Zarya’s ankle before anyone could react. With a vicious tug, she was pulled down the sand and towards it’s open mouth. Unseen jaws closed around her midsection and the woman screamed again, struggling as she was pulled into the surf by huge hands. Jamie could swear he almost heard the thing laughing as it submerged, bringing it’s meal and hook with it.

Ana gaped at her hands, covered in Zarya’s blood and formerly pressed against warm flesh. Now there was only empty air and a trail in the sand that told a tale of horror. Gabriel was spellbound, watching the ripples that spread across the water, and the foreboding dark color that began to float into the pool of light.

“Holy fuck,” The pirate gasped, suddenly jumping away from the water’s edge as one of the waves reached his foot. “Holy fuck, holy fuck.”

He realized he was shaking like a leaf from head to toe, swaying back and forth as though at any moment his legs would give out. It had gone wrong, as he knew it would, but not exactly in the way he’d hoped. Ana and Gabriel were still alive, giving each other the same dumbstruck look he was sure graved his own face. Who knew when the creature would come back again, after they’d stabbed it. The sleeping potion had done fuck all on it- it played dead for a joke, a way to get a bit of an easier meal.

Maybe it would decide they weren’t worth the trouble and leave them here to rot.

“What are we gonna do?” Jamie asked, not really meaning for the other two to hear. He backed up until his back was against the wall of the cave, fingers feeling for the stability of the rough surface. The merman had to come back, had to listen to him. It was his only way out of this godforsaken cave, his only chance.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Gabe was opening his mouth to speak when the hook flashed out of the water once again. In the middle of his sentence, he was simply gone, pulled into the water with a huge splash. Unable to fight as Zarya had. It was difficult to tell in the dim lighting, but the pirate was pretty sure he saw a uniform clad leg kick out from the surface once, briefly, before completely submerging.

Ana snatched up the scallop shell from the sandbar and charged at the water’s edge before Jamie could comprehend the loss of yet another of their number. She was screaming something in a language he didn’t understand as a huge shadow rose out of the water to meet her, one big arm steadfastly holding something under the water. A growl chilled the blood in his body as he watched the woman go for that arm, hacking and slashing to get him to let go of her friend.

It must be nice to have someone to do that for you. Risk their life.

The merman drew back his other arm and backhanded Ana away from him in one sweep, sending her flying into the cave wall. She collapsed on the sand and did not move again, some of the merman’s blood joining the stains already dotting the beach. Dipping underwater once again, the creature took ahold of something in its teeth. Gabe rose above the surface, seemingly unconscious from his forced drowning and hanging like a limp chew toy. Claws shredded through his clothes, ribbons of cloth falling away as it raking over him again and again, ending with a snap of it’s head to throw the body onto the sand.

Huge eyes turned on him now, and he was sure it heard it laughing this time. A baritone chuckle reverberated off the walls until it was the only thing inside his head, louder still than even the beating of his heart in his ears. He swallowed once as he waited for it to make a move, waited for the fishing hook to flash out and catch him about the middle. He was so skinny the impact alone might tear him in half, spilling his guts across the sand for the monster to snack on later.

The monster had chosen a good time to feed. There weren’t many places on the sandbar that Jamie could go and still be out of reach, not with the high tide lapping at his heels. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place, terrified to blink in case he missed that deadly hook.

“Here little piggy…”

It beckoned him closer with a blood-stained claw, huge pupils fixated on Jamie’s face. Like he would willingly walk forward to the slaughter. Like he was going to die here in this cave. The pirate shuddered and found his words stuck in his throat. He’d planned something to say but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what it was.

“G’day!” The blonde eventually choked out, tone considerably less calm than he’d have liked it to be. “Big bloke, ain’tcha?”

Obviously the creature was big. He was going have to do better than that if he wanted to sweet talk this thing.

“Good with yer claws and fuck me, those teeth are the sharpest things I ever seen. And that fucking hook? Bloody brilliant mate, ain’t never would have seen it coming. Near about shit myself when ya got Gabe with it.”

It was silent, although he could definitely feel an air of confusion cutting through the sheer malice radiating off the merman. Encouraged, he pressed on.

“I got a deal for a big fuck like ya! Help me out an’ you’ll be richer than ya ever dreamed of. I know where somethin’ real good is buried, somethin’ that’ll set us up for life.” He paused. “Well, I don’t know what mermen’s lives are like, but money is money, right? We’ll be fuckin’ kings, ya could probably buy yerself a lagoon and replace the water in it with gold if ya wanted.”

Still the creature was silent, but the beckoning hand had fallen to his side once again. Jamie took that as a good sign because of the lack of anything else, feeling brave enough to peel himself off the cave wall and take a few steps towards the water. Still well out of grabbing range, because he wasn’t stupid.

“Maybe not that, cause you’d die, but somethin’ like it! All ya gotta do is let me go and help me find the treasure, I’ll split it with ya, fifty fifty.”

The merman snorted.

“You don’t even have it.” Derision ran through his words.

“I’m gonna get it! And I’m the only one who knows where it is, I can guaran-fuckin’-tee that. Premier access to the best hoard o’ gold that’ll ever be dug up.”

He’d swallowed the map, to be precise. After breaking into the captain’s cabin, it had been a free for all. After treating himself to the good booze, the stuff that the man kept locked in a cabinet so the crew couldn’t waste it with their drinking games, he’d rifled through the man’s papers. Jamie had never learned to read, but he knew how to tell what was important and what wasn’t.

The books with long lists of numbers meant absolutely nothing to him, as did the ones that were full of incomprehensible writings. There were more books than he’d ever thought could possibly exist in the world stuffed on the man’s shelves, kept hidden away from the rest of the world. Jamie had pawed through the volumes, flipping between the pages with pictures on them and playing a guessing game as to what they were about.

That was how he’d found the map. It was in a dusty volume, one in the very back of the shelves. It looked as though the man had barely touched it, preferring the volumes with complicated maps and grids. This one was mostly words, accompanied with sparse illustrations of fish and sea monsters. When the pirate grabbed it, a loose sheet of paper had fallen, dislodged from the crinkly pages.

Almost like fate. Almost like he’d been meant to find it.

Maps were another story entirely. Jamie was very good at maps- his brain semed to absorb the ordered images, the shape of the continents quickly orienting themselves before his eyes. He liked to fiddle with things and the talent came in handy- the navigator had been teaching him, showing him the paths of the stars and how to read the winds. For the apprentice of the man who managed the gunpowder, this was a whole new world.

He knew he could remember it. There was something about this map that differentiated itself from the others, something that told him this was important. It felt heavier in his calloused hands than the others, and the ink was still thick and clear. A symbol at the end of the path stood out to him, two hands clasped around a diamond. It called to him. As if he was the only one to ever lay eyes on it.

Jamie was willing to bet his life that he was.

The captain had returned before he was supposed to, spelling the end of the blonde’s field trip and his time on the ship. But he’d quickly stuffed it in his mouth when the door flew open, swallowed it down before there was iron pinching his wrists and chains dragging from his feet. Just in case the captain ever figured out what it was he had in his possession, the boy didn’t want anyone else to find what he had. Even though he was going to his death, he’d have a secret to take with him to the grave.

Something that someone would remember him by, one day. The boy who’d taken treasure from the world as his final act.

Except, somehow, it hadn’t been his final act and he now had a chance to actually take that treasure for himself.

He had no way to know if all the promises he was making the beast would really come true. If he was indeed right about being the only person to know where the treasure was buried, if there would even be anything to find once they got there. Maybe he’d come to the end of the journey and find that he’d bought his life from the beast with empty sand and broken seashells.

Jamie would burn that bridge when he came to it. There was no room for him to begin to doubt his words, not when he was staring a monster in the face and lying his ass off.

Maybe. He might not have been lying his ass off. Jamie hoped to god he wasn’t lying his ass off.

“C’mon big guy, think about it… Untold riches just waiting for us. You can buy yer own fuckin’ ocean where no one else can intrude. They’ll sacrifice humans to you, ya can have a whole fuckin’ stock of folks to eat. Much better to eat than me scrawny ass.”

The merman stared pointedly at him before the mask tilted down to look at the ground around Jamie’s feet. He risked a glance downwards, finding nothing but sand and blood.

“You come with your own toothpick.” The merman said, and from his voice it sounded like he’d like nothing better than to use Jamie’s peg leg to pick his teeth.

“Ya gotta work with me here, really! Sure, I’m tasty and delicious, all wrapped up in a convenient little package for ya. But if ya delay your meal now, it’ll be a whole lot better for you in the long run.”

Shit, he’d used the word delay. As in, it might be okay to eat him one day, after their grand adventure was over and they were rich as kings.

Before he could backtrack on his words, the merman was moving, shifting closer to him over the sand. Jamie instinctively took a step back and struck his head on the rock wall, pain ringing through his temples. He held perfectly still as it sniffed the air around him, mask uncomfortably close to his face. The pirate kept his eyes trained on the sharp teeth that lined the shark’s mask, afraid that the creature would move and shred him to bits.

“Swear to me that you’re telling the truth.”

Jumping to attention, the blonde laughed nervously, raising one hand to draw an X over his heart. Lying was second nature and so it was easy to say the words with wide and sincere eyes, just the right amount of excitement peppering his voice. No need to let his doubts.

“I swear. Help me find it and we’ll be rich.”

It laughed, long and low, the same chuckle he’d heard earlier as it hunted. The mask was shoved even closer, the shark’s teeth pressing uncomfortably against his face. From the dark depths of the mask, he heard something wet, and then a cold, slimy tongue was curling against the side of his cheek.

The merman was lapping at the blood there, at the spray that had stained him from Zarya’s wound. From the contented noises it made as it slurped, he gathered that the blood was delicious, frozen as he was in case he made it angry. Something inside him shuddered when the tongue was finally withdrawn, cool air rushing over his wet skin.

“Th-thanks, mate.” Uncertainty laced his words. Did this mean it had decided to let him live?

They stood still for a moment, staring at each other. Jamie willed his gaze not to move from the merman’s steely grey eyes, though curiosity was burning deep in his gut. Was the monster deformed under there? Did the scars that covered his whole body extend to his face as well?

After a minute, the creature chuckled and pulled away from him, settling back into the water. Somewhere to Jamie’s left, Gabriel groaned, somehow still alive after the mauling.

“What is your name, little human?”

“Junkrat! Junkrat to most, Jamie Fawkes to me friends. If ya want to count among ��em, I can definitely arrange something.” He grinned, finally letting himself relax. Asking his name was definitely a good sign. It meant that the monster would keep him around long enough to need it.

The merman looked him dead in the eye.

“I’ll take the deal.”

Shouting for joy, the pirate forgot himself for a moment and raced forward to clasp his arms around the beast’s neck. The skin beneath him was cold and wet, slightly more rough than human skin but not unpleasant. It smelled of rotting fish up close, and the stench threatened to overwhelm the boy. There was a sudden tenseness in the thing’s muscles, like it expected him to try and attack from the position. Dimly, he remembered that Zarya had thrown her arms around the creature like this, to attempt to hold it still. She was bleeding to death on the sand.

One huge hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and tugged him off with ease. The merman pulled him around to stare at him once more.

“But. You should be sure not to forget.”

It leaned in until the edges of the shark teeth grazed Jamie’s face. The pirate caught a glimpse of cruel, upturned lips and a nose that was little more than a mass of ruined flesh. Up close, it’s breath stank, nausea churning deep inside him. He hoped he wouldn’t throw up on it.

“One day I am going to devour you, Jamie Fawkes.”

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