#two birds fighting on my front lawn

[seanotty]

Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy

#two birds fighting on my front lawn #kirby #kirby super star #digital art #meta knight #kirby comic #galacta knight #aeon hero #galactic nova #nova kirby

[tkingfisher]

Right! Apropos another post, let’s talk about lawn crayfish aka The Lobsters Beneath Our Feet!

This is Craw-Bob. He’s about three and a half inches long.

Long ago, when I had only gardened in the Southeast for a year or two, I saw an interesting hole in a flowerbed. It was rather deep and had a muddy front porch. I gazed into this hole, thinking “Ooh! Is it a rodent? A snake? A toad?”

And then I saw…the Claw.

It was unmistakably a crustacean claw. And it was in a hole in my yard. My terrestrial yard! Why was there a crustacean in my flowerbed?!

I could not have been more astounded if an octopus tentacle had come flopping out. I ran screaming for my husband and the internet, both of whom said “Yeah, that’s a lawn crayfish, they do that.”

And yes. There are about 400 species of crayfish* in North America, and a not inconsiderable number of them are burrowing species. The devil crayfish, which builds little mud towers, ranges from the Rockies to the Atlantic and as far north as Ontario. There are a number of other species as well. Some are limited to stream banks, but many burrow in lawns, flowerbeds, and other places with consistently damp soil, which means that there is a non-zero chance that when you wander around the grass, a tiny lobster is lurking somewhere beneath your feet.

You would think that more people would know this, but at no point in my life had anyone ever mentioned it to me.

Being me, I immediately set out to determine if other people knew about lawn crayfish and I had just somehow missed it. I took an informal poll—by which I mean I accosted random strangers at the farmer’s market, the coffee shop, and my doctor’s office—and discovered a stark divide. Half the people looked at me like I was telling them I’d seen a lawn chupacabra and the other half looked at me like I’d asked if they’d ever heard of squirrels.

It was not divided by social class or education. The farmer with the heirloom breed hogs knew about them, his wife did not. My nurse practitioner first thought I was hallucinating, then went out into the clinic, and began demanding to know if her co-workers had heard of this. My barista was like “Yeah, mudbugs,” but he’s from Florida, so may not count.

My theory is that if you know they’re there, it’s just a fact of life so obvious that you don’t bother to comment on it, and if you don’t—well, why would you ever assume that any given hole in the ground comes from a goddamn MINI LOBSTER? And since they mostly just hang out underground during the day and don’t really hurt anything, it just doesn’t come up very often, until one day you’re at the farmer’s market, just trying to sell some organic tomatoes, and a wild-eyed woman with a Studio Ghibli T-shirt descends on you yelling “Are you aware of lawn crayfish?!”

(Yes, they’re edible, but it’s a lot of work popping them individually out of their burrows.)

During torrential rains, they will often leave their burrows and wander around, which is how I got the photos of Craw-Bob. My hound spotted him in the garden and poked him with her nose, whereupon Craw-Bob poked back. Hound, not sure what was happening but that it was probably bad, began doing her “release the humans!” alarm bark, and I came out to find her toe to toe with a crustacean who was waving its claws and presumably screaming “Come on if you think you’re hard enough!” in Lobster.

Despite their willingness to fight everything, they’re pretty harmless. The most they do is move soil from underground to a little pile above. I’m sure golf courses hate them. Our local county extension office suggests “These nonprolific creatures should be appreciated like an interesting bird or turtle living on the property.” Some, like the Greensboro burrowing crayfish, are so rare they were thought to be extinct until somebody found one in the backyard.

So. Lawn crayfish. They exist! And could be lurking underfoot as we speak!

*or crawfish, depending on where you’re from.

#crayfish #crawfish #crustaceans #nature

[joshsjipple]

Lions and Tigers and Bears

SAM KISZKA X FEMALE READER

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on my last two posts! It truly means so much, I love you all! As a token of my appreciation, here's some Sam.

Word Count: 3.7k

WARNINGS: 18+ as always! graphic sexual content, angst, rough sex, sassy sam, unprotected sex (i'm awful, i'm sorry) dirty talk, oral sex (m/f/rec), fingering, overstimulation, daddy kink, small sir kink, slapping, slight choking, language, breeding kink, cum play if you squint, degradation, minor cock warming, p in v, some dom sam etc etc.

╰┈•┈୨୧┈•┈╯

Your brows furrow at the man sitting across from you. You should be happier, considering it's your spring break and you and your closest friends pulled together enough money to drive a giant RV across the US. In fact, you’re sitting in Arizona, a beer in your hand, a fire in front of you, and a blanket of stars above you.

But you’re not happy. You’re far from it actually. 

It was Grant’s idea to invite Sam Kiszka in the first place. You know Sam, everyone knows Sam. He’s the campus’s princess, half because he’s pretty like a woman, half because he plays gigs for the frat parties. But no one sees how he is with you, the snarky rude comments, and insulting looks. You can barely stand him.

He sits on the other side of the fire, giving you a perfect view of his stupid face. He’s blabbering about something no one cares about, his hands flying around his area. You hope he smacks himself in the face. 

You’re usually not this feral towards him. You two clearly don’t get along, but it’s not like you fight like cats and dogs all the time. As you drink from your can of beer and watch Sam continue his story, you think back to this morning.

It’s 8:00 am, and being the only early bird on the bus, you sit sipping your coffee outside the trailer in a lawn chair. The sun is stretching across the horizon for miles, blessing your tan legs with its warmth. Birds chirp around you, the wind barely blowing. This is what you were made for. 

As you connect your lips to the rim of your glass, the door opens behind you. You’re surprised to see someone up and quickly turn around to see who will be joining you. Of course it’s Sam. You turn around rather quickly and sigh to yourself. You hear him scoff behind you, pretending to take offense to your actions.

“Ouch, that hurt.” he says.

“Oh please.” you say, sipping from your glass. “What are you doing up so early anyways?”

“Going for a run.” he explains, moving next to you and tossing his dirty running shoes in your lap.

The dried mud from his previous run breaks off the soles of the platforms, falling apart in your lap. A few clumps splash into your coffee and you feel your blood begin to boil. Quickly, you begin scraping the dirt off your black shorts.

“What the fuck, Sam!” you screech, picking up his shoes and throwing them at his stomach. He covers his abdomen and laughs in victory, clearly enjoying the whole situation. His annoying laugh only seems to anger you even more. What the fuck is his deal? “Is this funny or something?” You fume, throwing chunks of dirt at him.

“It’s hilarious.” he admits, still laughing. 

“You’re such a child.” you shout, noticing the dirt in your drink. “It’s in my coffee, Sam!”

“It’s in my coffee, Sam.” he mocks you, making air quotes. 

“Why the fuck did you even come? No one wants you here, you just always have to interrupt, don’t you?” you yell. 

Sam freezes before you, the corner of his lips tugging into a grin. “What do you mean? You want me here.”

“In your dreams.” you roll your eyes although your heart beats a bit faster. 

“I came to keep you on your feet. It ruins me knowing you’re having a good time.” he crosses his arm.

You pause. “I can’t even tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Oh, I’m not. You get everything you want. You’re a spoiled brat who treats everyone around you like shit. So yeah, I begged Grant to let me come so I could make you fucking miserable. And look, it’s working.” he spits.

You’re raging at this point, your breathing is noisy. Without thinking, you toss your glass of iced coffee at him. He jumps, but it’s too late. The liquid coats his outfit quickly, his skin becoming even darker with the added residue. His face is a bright red, his teeth gritted together tightly as he stares at you in disbelief. 

“I’m the child?” he throws your words in your face, his nostrils flared.

You regret it immediately but it’s too late to go back so you march inside, slamming the door dramatically behind you. You and Sam’s bickering must have woken up your friend, Tiffany, because she’s standing in front of you in her robe. Her jaw drops as she looks out the window to see a very drenched and very pissed Sam. She glares at you like a mother silently scolding her kid.

Just thinking about the situation again makes your heart beat faster. And there he is, sitting so innocently, making everyone laugh at his jokes. Of course he’s the loved one, while you’re getting the silent treatment from half your friends for trying to ‘sabotage’ the trip. Bull shit. This trip was ruined the second Sam got on the bus.

You jump out of your thoughts, deciding to pay attention to whatever is so funny. Sam’s all smiles, his hand resting on the girl’s knee beside him. She laughs loudly. Nothing Sam says could ever be that funny. 

“I mean, I didn’t know it happened. I walk out of the shower with my towel around my waist saying ‘where’s everyone at?’” 

The girl, Abby, laughs again, her hand covering her mouth. Sam enjoys it, and watches her through the gleam in his eyes. Motherfucker. Without meaning to, you scoff and roll your eyes. It must have been louder than you thought, because the laughter around you subsides and all eyes fall on you.

“Is something wrong, Y/N?” Sam cocks his head to the side. You glance around before settling in on your drink. “No please, enlighten us.” Sam challenges, removing his hand from Abby and leaning on his knees.

You swallow, your attempt of remaining civil disappearing with our patience. You cross your legs and begin to speak. “Everyone knows that story's fake.”

“Is it? Hm, I didn’t know you were there. Then again, you are easy to forget about.”

“Sam!” Grant and Tiffany say in unison. Abby only giggles, scoring another point with Sam.

You grit your teeth together, a sheen of sweat covering your face. 

“Fuck you, Sam. Fuck you.” your voice cracks as you stand and disappear into the van for the second time today.

Angry, hot tears line your bottom eye-lid. You’re not upset by his words, you couldn’t care less, but it’s the way you can’t even defend yourself or you’ll be the one in dog house. 

You sit on your bed, hands in your lap and take a deep breath. You’re shocked when you hear the RV door open again. Expecting it to be Tiffany, you open the door before she knocks. To your utter dismay (and surprisement), Sam stands in front of you.

“For fuck’s sake.” you attempt to shut the door but his hand catches it and pushes it open, sending you falling backwards slightly. “Get out!”

“Nope.” he says, popping the ‘p.’ “Gotta work this out.”

“What do you mean? It’s literally all your fault.” You sit back on the bed and Sam shuts the door behind you before standing in front of your position.

“Is it?” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Yes!” you shout. He smirks at you, as if he knows he has some form of hold over you.

“I don’t know. I think I’d stop it if it didn’t have such an effect on you.'' His voice sounds like silver. You cross your legs, confused by feeling beginning to ache between your legs again. “Mhm, exactly. You think I don’t notice, but I do.”

He squats in front of you so you’re face to face. His eyes stare into you, burning a hole in your mind. “Notice what?” You hold your ground.

“This.” he taps his finger on your kneecap. The action sends knives shooting up your arm. You suck in a hasty breath and watch as Sam grins. “I bet you’re just pooling in your panties.” 

His words make your head spin. “I’m actually drier than I’ve ever been before.” You lie. He knows you’re lying by the way his tongue drifts over his bottom lip.

“Didn’t your parents ever teach you that lying never gets you anywhere?”

“Nope, because I’m spoiled.” you stick your tongue out at him.

“A spoiled brat. Get it right.” he purrs, his face inches from yours.

Your cheeks are a bright red, your stomach dancing with emotions. You’ve never been so turned on before, and the fact it’s Sam who’s causing it has you flabbergasted. Your eyes stare into Sam’s as you both fight for dominance. You cave, your eyes flickering down to his bare chest that his denim shirt leaves exposed. Your mouth falls open, and you pray Sam hasn’t caught it, but you know better.

“Interesting.” he says, placing his hand that was once on Abby’s thigh, on yours. His long fingers dance on your bare skin, fire sprouting wherever he touches. ��You’re spoiled and used to getting everything you’ve ever wanted. I bet you’ve never even said ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ before. Am I right?”

You can barely understand him because the feeling of his calloused fingers digging into your thigh has blood rushing to your ears. Instead, you nod slowly.

“So I’m gonna ask you again. Are you pooling between your legs right now, Y/N?” 

The shit-eating grin on his face makes your jaw tighten. Still not ready to let him win, you shake your head no. Sam doesn’t like your answer so he grabs your cheeks with one hand and presses his face against yours. His breath is hot and your knees attempt to close. Sam’s leg stops that from happening. Immediately, you open your legs, allowing his knee to sit against your throbbing center. The contact makes you shutter. You move your hips slowly, hoping he will take it as an innocent movement.

“Fine, be a fucking brat. I can feel you on my knee right now, grinding yourself against it. Just say please and I’ll fuck you so good, baby.” he growls.

You’re shaking beneath him, fighting your own conscience on what to do next. After a minute of pooling in your own thoughts–and between your legs– you answer. “Please.” you squeak, barely above a whisper.

“Sorry, gonna have to speak up.” he toys with you, moving his knee just right so it scrapes against your clit.

“Fuck. Please, Sammy. Do something.”

Sam captures your mouth, his tongue slipping into your hot tunnel. They fight for dominance while your hands unbutton his shirt. Sam wins, and tears your top off of your chest, exposing your hard nipples. The cold air in your room has you gasping.

“You’re gonna buy me a new one.” You inform him as he stands above you to unbutton his jeans.

“Yeah right. Just ask daddy to, he’ll do it in a heartbeat.” he mocks you.

Rolling your eyes, you slip your shorts off, revealing a pair of black lace underwear. Sam notices immediately, his eyes engulfing the way you look in the light.

“You’re daddy.” you say, twisting his words. You watch his cock twitch in his underwear and he tosses his jeans to the side, placing a condom on the side of the bed. “Someone liked that.” 

Sam growls and grabs you by your waist, flipping you onto your stomach in one swift motion. He pins you down with his arm, his cock brushing against your ass. You squeeze your eyes shut and rest your cheek against the mattress. Noticing the condom, your eyes read the packaging. 

“Magnum? You wish.”

Sam hisses as he grinds his hips into your ass, pressing his length against you. You moan at the feeling of him hard against you. 

“That mouth gets you in so much trouble. How about we fill it, huh?”

Suddenly, you’re on your back again and being pulled up so you’re sitting again. The sight of Sam pulsating in front of you could make you cum alone. You get on all fours, shaking your ass when you notice he’s looking. Biting his lip, he reaches over you and smacks the fat of your cheek. You half yelp, half moan at the feeling.

“Get up here.” he directs, tilting you up by your chin. “Tongue.” 

You shamefully listen right away, sticking your tongue out for him to see. He bends down and lets a line of spit dribble on the flat of the muscle. You swallow it, his cock straining even farther from his briefs.

“Thought I was spoiled and you were gonna make me beg.” you rub your hand over the tip of him.

“Oh you’ll beg, alright.” he pets your head before pulling his underwear down and off his legs. His cock springs free, bouncing in front of you. “But I’m sick of your voice. I’m gonna fuck this shit-talking mouth of yours. The only sound coming from your mouth will be gags.” 

You stare at his length. You know he’s feeling pretty damn good about himself as you sit gobsmacked in front of him. You take him into your hand and stroke him a few times, your eyes dazzling at the precum on his tip. He sucks in a tight breath, watching you work him with your hand. He pulls back, your hand mid air.

“Sam-” you whine.

“What do you say?” he asks, taking himself into his own hands.

Sitting in front of him, still on your knees, you roll your eyes and clamp your mouth shut to show him you’re not saying it. He shrugs and begins picking up the pace of his hand. His arms are flexed, along with the muscles in his stomach. He’s gonna make you watch. 

“Please, daddy. Let me suck your dick. Gag me with it, do whatever. I want it so bad.” you give in, shaking your ass again.

In one swift motion, Sam’s cock is stuffed down your throat, his hand tucked away in your hair. The gag that leaves your mouth is loud and pornographic, making Sam pull out for a second. It doesn’t last long, and he thrusts his hips back into you. Tears stream down your face, your throat burning as you focus on your breathing. His breaths waver above you, turning you on even more. He pulls himself out entirely, brushing the top of your head. 

“Good girl.” he breaths, dragging his finger over your bottom plump lip. “Show me how bad you want it.”

You nod and take him back in your mouth, your hand working the parts you can’t reach. Swirling your tongue, he moans heavenly above you. You cup his balls and flick your tongue over his tip. He leans over your body, stuffing himself back down your throat. Suddenly, the feeling of his fingers running themselves over the damp material of your underwear has your concentration lost and you choke around him. 

“So wet.” he smacks your cunt. “I knew you were a fucking liar. How about this? For every lie you’ve told me equals one orgasm. That should teach you.”

With him down your throat and the idea racing through your mind, you squirm against his fingers. Once again, he pulls himself out of your mouth, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting you. You whimper as he takes himself into his hand and smacks the tip on your cheek. 

“You’re perfect.” he coos as you lay on your back. “Gonna eat your pretty pussy.”

He pulls your underwear off your legs and instantly dives into your heat. Your back arches into him and he uses this as an opportunity to slide his hands under your ass and hold you closer to his mouth. You cry and dig your hands into his hair, pulling him into you. He hums into you, his mouth kneading your sensitive bundle of nerves. Just as your orgasm approaches, he pulls away for a second to spit on you, his fingertips hitting your clit. You jump and scream his name. 

“Sam! I didn’t-”

“Oh, I know. Did you want to?” he asks cockily.

“Yes?!” you say.

His hand meets your cheek before digging into your hair. “Watch the attitude.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, let me cum.”

“Fine.”

Without warning, he drags his tongue through your folds, his eyes piercing your soul. You rock into his face as he laps at your arousal. The sound of wet, sloppy noises fill the camper. His tongue pokes at your entrance and you prop yourself up on your arms.

“Fuck, Sammy. Don’t stop. Right there, daddy. Eat my cunt, please!” you beg, under his spell. His arm wraps around your thigh and rubs rough circles into your clit. With one specific sharp jab, an orgasm rips through you.

You kick from under him, his name and a dozen profanities falling from your lips. As you come down from your high, you notice Sam’s motions have only intensified. 

“Sam, I’m done. Fuck, Sam!” you try to shove him away, but his mouth is glued to you. 

He pulls back. “You’re not done. Not until I say so.” he slips a digit into you. “Cum on my fingers, pretty girl.” 

You cry as he digs back in, his mouth skillfully working circles into your heat as his finger jams into you. He adds another finger, and you feel the familiar feeling rise in your stomach again. You’re a moaning, wet, pathetic mess under him as you buck into his face. His fingers hit your G-spot repeatedly, your body jerking each time he does. Without warning, the most powerful orgasm slashes through your body. Your legs shake furiously under you and tears stream down your face. 

When you finally come back to earth, Sam’s just removing his fingers. He licks them clean, eyes staring abc into yours. You breathe heavily, your mind racing and heat spreading to all parts of your body. He crawls over you and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. He kisses your lips firmly, his hand on your cheek. Moving down, he licks your neck and nips at the skin while you regain your strength.

“So good for me, baby.” he says gently to you. “You look so pretty when you cum and you taste even better.” 

He reaches for the condom but you grab his wrists. “I’m on the pill. Cum in me, please.”

“Whatever you say, baby.’

You grind against his skin, marking his groin. He’s leaking onto your leg and you’re horny all over again. Sam reaches down, rubbing your clit a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He sits there, still as a rock.

“Daddy, please.” you cry. “Please fuck my pussy I’ll be so good for you.”

“That’s it, good girl. Look at you, crying and begging for my cock. Where’s that bratty attitude?”

You let out a long breath, an idea popping into your head. “Jesus, Sam. Fuck me already or I’ll have Grant do it.”

That does it. In record timing, Sam’s stuffed inside of you. His pubic hair brushing against yours. His hand covers your mouth as he slams back into you a few times. You’re shattered below him, your hair sticking to your sweaty face, moaning for more. His hands tug at your hair as he props himself on his elbows above you.

“You think he could fuck you like this? Make you cum and beg for it the way I do?” he growls. He almost sounds hurt. You mumble beneath him. “Could he?”

“No!” you yelp into his ear as he rocks into you. “No one can fuck me like you, Sam.”

“Yeah that's right.” he wraps his hand around your throat as he throws a leg over your shoulder. “So tight. So pretty. My girl. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He pulls out and strokes himself. He explodes on your cunt, drenching it with a hot liquid. You watch him, his eyebrows knit tightly together and his teeth gritted as he cums all over you. 

“Fuck.” he cusses. “That’s so hot. I’m gonna fuck it back into you, yeah?”

He drags the tip of his dick through your folds that are coated with his arousal. You moan as he slips back in, dragging his cum back into you. He rocks against you a few times before picking up the pace.

“God, yes!” you cry, the feeling of his cum inside of you. “Use me.”

“My fucking pussy. Fucking it so good, just how you like it. Look at you cum-hungry slut, a whimpering mess as I fuck my cum back into you.” he’s fighting inside of you, and you feel yourself gripping him.

“Yes, Sammy. So close.”

“Gonna get you pregnant so no one else will want you. I’ll have you all to myself.” he continues, lost in the moment. “Say thank you.”

“Gah. Thank you, Sam. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” you cry, nails digging into his back as you cum around him. You’re bucking under him, thrashing and crying as you pulsate around him. 

He falls onto you, your breathing synced. You lay there in silence for a few moments, neither of you willing to move. With Sam’s head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging and massaging.

“Sam,” you say. He lifts his head up in response. “God, you’re so pretty.” You freeze to watch the smile form on his face. “I’m sorry about this morning and earlier.”

“No, baby, no. I’m sorry.” he says, rubbing your skin with his thumb. “I was so awful to you.”

“It was mutual.” you agree.

“I don’t mean it. I mean, yeah you’re a bit spoiled, but not really. I just think I find it attractive when you’re mad at me.” he admits.

“I like when you’re mad at me too.” you giggle, still running your fingers through his hair. “Do you want to stay the night with me?”

“Yes, please. I don’t want to face anyone after this.”

“Why? Do you think they heard us?” you ask.

“Oh baby, I think the whole state heard us.”

#greta van fleet #sam kiszka gvf #sam kiszka #sam kiszka smut #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka

[scrumptious-delusion]

let’s get married

series masterlist

summary: an undercover mission is nothing new for you or bucky. however, using the cover of a newly-wed couple is.

pairing: bucky barnes x agent!female reader

warnings: swearing, humour, fluff 🥺, mention of: murder, injuries, knives, and blood.

length: 4.1k

a/n: third part in the little bird series. written for my 3k celebration, the prompt is bolded. don’t hold the accuracy of the russian against me, i just used google ✌.

You peek up at Bucky out of the corner of your eye. 

His gaze is focused on Charlie as they deliver the mission briefing you’re too preoccupied to listen to.

This is the first time you’ve seen Bucky in six weeks.

The first time you’ve seen him since he sent you a whole basket full of flowers.

The first time you’ve seen him since realising you love him - that you’re in love with him.

No big deal.

As always, Bucky’s thick beard is neatly trimmed in the shape of his jawline, while his long hair is tied in a bun at the base of his neck. Gazing lower, you admire how the short sleeve of Bucky’s shirt stretches around his muscled right bicep that you’re eye level with and fight back a longing sigh.

Bucky’s hot. You’ve appreciated that fact since the start of your partnership.

Of course you’ve dabbled in a fantasy or two in the privacy of your bedroom, long before your recent revelation. You’re only human. A human with hormones and desires. 

I get horny, okay?

In hindsight, you should have realised those harmless daydreams were the product of something bigger. Of something you were deliberately ignoring until it slapped you in the face, smelling like flowers.

You can’t help but wonder how Bucky - the man who takes everything in stride, would react if you just blurted out those three words to him right here, in the middle of a mission rundown.

I love you.

“What?”

The world comes to a screeching halt with cartoon sound effects as you’re wrenched out of your thoughts so violently someone might as well have poured freezing cold water over your head. 

Darting your gaze back to Bucky’s face you’re relieved to see his attention is still directed at Charlie, meaning you didn’t accidentally declare your love for him out loud.

But if Bucky wasn’t speaking to you, that means he was speaking to Charlie.

He’s never spoken to a handler before, and not only that, he sounded…

Dismayed.

“What?” You repeat urgently, needing to know what was said.

You’re witnessing world history. Nothing fazes Bucky. Your first mission together well and truly proved that.

What’s the number for the Guiness World Record people?

Charlie looks from Bucky to you with a raised eyebrow. “I said, you’ll be using the cover of a newly-wed couple.”

“What?”

[THAT AFTERNOON]

Number seven of Daisy Court sits at the very end of a cul-de-sac and is essentially a copy-and-paste of every other house on the street.

The two-storey house is grey with white trimming and a dark, wooden front door. The concrete driveway you currently stand on leads to a one-car garage, while a pathway veering off to the left takes you up to the front porch.

The lawn is a vivid green and if you were to pull out a ruler you’re certain every blade of grass would be the Homeowners Association approved length of two inches.

For the foreseeable future, this is home.

Turning your head to the right, you look up at your new husband.

“Welcome home, honey.”

The lame joke only earns you some side-eye.

Along with the new house and husband are the names, Elise and James Prescott. At first you didn’t think it fair that Bucky got to keep his name but you dropped the subject when he - unlike you, was forced to undergo a make-over.

Bucky’s beard exists only in memory now.

His hair has been shortened and styled to curl around his ears, thick and fluffy. Every time your gaze lands on it your fingers twitch with the urge to feel.

The short hair and clean-shaven face make Bucky seem younger and less over life. 

Well, when he’s not frowning at least.

“Hello neighbours!”

Oh boy.

You and Bucky share a look.

Spinning around, you showcase a megawatt smile. “Hi!”

A man in his early thirties jogs up to you both with a friendly grin. “My wife is gonna be so mad she missed your arrival,” He laughs “She baked lemon bars for the occasion.”

Sean Weaver.

You recognise him from the surveillance photos in your information packet. One of the mission’s two main targets.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of her.” You croon, holding out your hand. “I’m Elise and this is my husband, James.”

My husband, James.

Your heart pounds out a sporadic rhythm at those words.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Sean.”

For a married man, Sean’s eyes linger a little too long in all the wrong places as he shakes your hand.

When he accepts Bucky’s hand next his face pinches into a slight wince.

It’s at that moment a car pulls up along the curb and an over-excited woman exits from the driver’s seat.

“Don’t tell me I almost missed the first introduction!”

Betty Weaver.

The mission’s other main target.

“Hello, hello,” The redhead grins, rushing up to wrap you in a hug. “I’m Betty, it’s so nice to meet you!”

Sean laughs at his wife’s enthusiasm. “Pumpkin, this is Elise and her husband, James.”

Betty releases you from her death grip, only to target Bucky next. 

You can’t stop the laugh that shoots out of you when Bucky’s face momentarily displays his horror before falling unreadable once more as the smaller woman squeezes him.

Thankfully she steps back after only a moment, falling into her husband’s side.

“It’s been so long since we’ve had fresh faces around here.” Sean states.

Betty nods in agreement before asking “How long have you two been married?”

“A week.” You smile, wrapping your hands around Bucky’s closest bicep and pressing the side of your face into it.

This is how couples act, right?

A gasp, “Newly-weds, that’s so sweet!” A squeal, “Is this your first house?”

“It is.” You grin.

Leaning forward to poke Bucky’s chest, Betty orders “Don’t forget to carry her over the threshold mister.”

“I’m sure he was planning on it before I interrupted.” Sean chuckles goodnaturedly, looking down at his wife. “How about we leave the newly-weds to it?”

Betty pouts, but nods. “We’ll get properly acquainted once you’ve settled in.” She promises.

“I look forward to it.” You beam back.

“Well, until then neighbours.” Sean nods, ushering Betty back to her car. 

You wave goodbye, one hand still around Bucky’s bicep as you allow him to lead you towards the house.

Three steps take you up onto the front porch and before you can even comment on Betty’s words, Bucky effortlessly sweeps you off your feet, cradling you in his arms bridal style. Instinctively, your arms loop around his neck, bringing your faces close together.

A squeal in the distance tells you the Weaver’s are still watching.

However, it’s hard to focus on anything when Bucky’s dark blue eyes are level with yours and only inches away. The back of his neck is warm against your forearm, and you can’t get over the feel of his bare skin on yours.

When Bucky speaks, his voice is low and rough. “Keys.”

Right.

Keeping your right arm around his neck, you dig the house keys out of your back jean pocket with your left hand. Bucky bends down when you get them free, allowing you to unlock the door and push it open.

He doesn’t straighten until he’s passed under the door frame and then he uses his foot to close the door behind him, blocking out the Weaver’s prying eyes.

Bucky lowers you to the floor slowly, waiting until you’re sure-footed before letting you go. 

A tense, unfamiliar air lingers between the two of you.

“Well,” You scratch at the back of your neck “I think that went well.”

Bucky hums, watching you.

You’ve never struggled to fill a silence before, but suddenly something that’s so natural for you seems so hard.

C’mon, think of the mission. There’s gotta be something you can -

“Betty seems so nice, it’s hard to believe she’s murdered like fifteen people.”

[THE NEXT MORNING]

You find Bucky standing on the porch, looking out at the quiet neighbourhood as the morning sun breaks over the horizon.

A frown is etched between his eyebrows as he glares at the road.

“What did the street ever do to you?” You mumble sleepily, holding out a cup of coffee. 

Bucky looks down at the drink, his eyes flicking to yours for a moment before he accepts the mug and stares at the road again.

“I hate cul-de-sacs, there’s only one way out and the people are kind of weird.” Bucky answers.

That has to be one of the longest sentences he’s ever spoken.

“Really? But everything about you screams suburbia.” You reply sarcastically.

Bucky’s mouth twitches.

“So…” Don’t ask, don’t ask. “I guess that means, you know,” Do not ask. “The whole wife and kids thing doesn’t appeal to you then.”

The mug pauses for a second on its journey to Bucky’s mouth before continuing. You watch as he takes a large sip and wonder if he’s going to respond.

Suddenly his dark blue eyes are piercing into you. “Do I have to like cul-de-sacs to want that?”

Why am I flushing?

“No, of course -”

“Morning neighbours!”

You both turn to see Betty jogging in place near your letterbox, waving eagerly.

“Morning!” You smile, waving back.

Grinning, Betty continues on her run. 

Bucky twists around and heads back inside, sighing “I gotta get ready for work.”

Right.

James Prescott is an accountant at a local firm where he works five days a week from eight in the morning until five in the afternoon, like a good, upstanding American citizen.

You try not to laugh too much at the image of Bucky in a small office, surrounded by chatty co-workers and demanding customers. 

As funny as it is, you can’t help but feel a little bad, having struck the better end of the deal once again.

Elise Prescott is an aspiring author and with her husband’s steady income, a stay at home wife.

Meaning, pretty much all of the mission’s reconnaissance falls solely on you.

Biting your lip, you try and fail to hold back your smile. 

“Goodbye honey.”

With his back to the street and any spying neighbours, Bucky doesn’t hide his glare. “маленькая птица,” He warns quietly.

“Have the best day at work.” You continue, speaking louder than you normally would because you’re positive people are listening in.

Unable to resist, you raise your right hand and lightly tap his cheek. “Go make those numbers your bitch.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky inhales very, very deeply.

Your giggle has his eyes popping back open.

Okay, I’ve tormented the poor man enough.

Rocking up on your toes, you press a kiss to the clean shaven cheek you just tapped. “Bye.” You say more earnestly as you take a step away from him and the car. 

Bucky studies you for a moment before climbing into the car and driving away. You wave until his car has disappeared down the street.

For just a second, the whole charade almost feels real.

[THREE DAYS LATER]

People always underestimate how boring and tedious undercover missions can be. 

Since Bucky isn’t home for nine hours each weekday, you spend your days alone, re-reading the same information about your targets while staking them out.

You’ve introduced yourself to the neighbours that border you - the Weaver’s and the Newman’s, and they’ve introduced you to their neighbours and so forth.

Each day you take two walks around Daisy Court. The first in the morning after you see Bucky off to work and the second in the evening, just before Bucky returns home.

It’s a good way to make observations, start conversations, and familiarise yourself with everyone’s routines - particularly the Weaver’s.

Sean works from home, which means you’ve had no chance to snoop, but Betty has been your saving grace. Though she works in the city, she’s home by four every afternoon and she always joins you on your evening walks. It’s easy to pull snippets of useful information from her and today she provides you with the best news yet.

“After weeks of nagging him, he’s finally booked a doctor’s appointment.” 

“Good!” You exclaim, “It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

“Exactly!” Betty nods. “I’ll let you know what the doctor says tomorrow afternoon, his appointment is at quarter to two.”

No one will be home.

The two of you reach your driveway just as Bucky pulls in.

Glancing down at her watch, Betty sighs “I wish Sean was as punctual as your man.”

You don’t need to look at the time to know it’s exactly 5:15.

The driver’s door opens and Bucky’s long legs swing out before the rest of his towering body unfolds from the car. 

Betty nudges you forward with a grin like she does every afternoon and you give her an eye-roll over your shoulder but approach your husband nonetheless.

“Hi honey.”

You know there’s a chance Bucky might kill you once this mission is over for all you’ve put him through while the neighbours are watching, but you’re having way too much fun to consider stopping. 

“How was work?”

Bucky’s left eye twitches at your question as he shuts the car door and that makes you feel bad.

Sitting in a cubicle and being surrounded by people is going as well as one would imagine for him.

Leaning up on your toes, you press your now usual kiss to his cheek.

Bucky’s shoulder’s drop just slightly. “It was fine sweetheart.” He mumbles, placing a hand on your lower back.

Sweetheart?

Nodding at Betty, Bucky steers the two of you up to the house.

You’re too dazed to turn around and wave goodbye.

[THE NEXT AFTERNOON]

Peering out one of the second floor windows, you watch as Sean’s car disappears down the street. You’ve been on pins and needles all day waiting for him to leave for his appointment. 

Time to shine.

Rushing to your backyard, you use a strategically placed garden statue to boost yourself over the fence and into the Weaver’s backyard.

Using a lock pick to open their back door, you enter cautiously. 

Once you’re certain there’s no alarms for you to trip, you begin scouring the house. The layout is identical to your own and when you eventually wind up in the office upstairs it’s like striking gold.

You take pictures of every document outlining transactions, shippings, and other incriminating information. Every photo is automatically uploaded to a secure server. 

Just as you’re flicking through a notepad for any useful scribbles, you hear the front door shut.

Fuck.

Looking down at your watch, the numbers 2:07 glare back at you.

Seriously?

Of course Sean Weaver would have the world’s quickest doctor’s appointment.

Alright, think.

The office is probably one of the first places Sean will go to so you can’t risk slipping out now in the hopes of getting around him to head for the back door. Turning to the window behind you, you push it open and analyse the drop.

Nope.

However, the trim that goes around the house exterior just below the window is thick enough for you to stand on with the tips of your toes - it’s a risk though.

The sound of Sean’s footsteps on the stairs makes the decision easy.

Straddling the windowsill, you dangle your right leg out and lower it until your foot makes contact with the trim. Gripping the house exterior with your right hand and the window frame with your left, you swing the rest of your body out, placing your left foot beside your right on the trim.

Using your left hand, you pull the window close.

Okay.

Your whole body shakes with the effort of holding yourself on the small ledge. Your hands are sweating and there’s no real purchase on the house wall, just the small grooves in the panelling that you grip at with your fingertips.

It shouldn’t surprise you that you slip.

Somehow you keep the scream trapped in your throat as you fall.

Miraculously, you manage to grab the trimming you had been standing on, effectively halting your descent. However, the sudden stop jars your arms and causes your body to swing into the house.

You knew there was no real chance of you hanging there long with your weakened arms, but now your drop to the ground isn’t as great - but fuck does it hurt.

It’s your knees that absorb the impact of the fall before you land on your left side with a thump. If it had been grass beneath you it wouldn’t have been so bad. Of course, It’s just your luck that you’ve fallen into a garden bed of pebbles, your forehead connecting with the sharp edge of one.

With no time to waste, you crawl as fast as you can to the fence.

There’s no advantage of a boost this time around, so you jump as high as you can, grasping at the top of the fence with both hands. Using all of your remaining strength, you heave yourself up and over.

You drop unceremoniously on the other side, having no energy to slowly lower yourself to the ground.

This particular fall doesn’t hurt as much, the grass making for a much softer landing.

In the safety of your backyard, you lay unmoving on your side, trying to catch your breath as your body throbs all over. 

That was close. 

Too close.

You tell yourself you’ll get up on the count of three and when you miss that cue, you count to three again, then again, then again -

Bucky will be home in three hours.

Waiting for him sounds like a much better plan.

“Y/N.” 

The voice is unmistakable, making you frown.

Holy shit, that was a fast three hours.

“маленькая птица.” The edge of panic is clear in Bucky’s tone as you hear him drop to the ground beside you before rolling you onto your back.

“Hi honey.”

Bucky releases a rough exhale you think might have been a laugh if he wasn’t so concerned. 

“You’re bleeding, what happened?” His words are sharp, demanding an answer. 

Just as your mouth opens to give one, Bucky’s lifting you into his arms for the second time this week.

God, I could get used to this.

“Y/N.”

Oh right.

“Sean came home earlier than I expected.”

Bucky’s grip tightens around you as you recount your less than stellar escape.

“How come you’re home early?” You ask after you’ve finished.

Instead of answering you, Bucky lowers you onto the bed you’ve been sharing and then disappears into the bathroom.

Groaning, you sit yourself up on the edge of the mattress. “I got some really good intel.” You call out to him.

Bucky re-emerges with a handful of first aid supplies that he places next to you on the bed.

Crouching between your legs, he pulls a knife out of -

Where did he just pull that out of?

Also, “What are you -”

“Stay still.”

Before he’s even finished speaking, Bucky’s slicing his knife up the right leg of your jeans, from ankle to thigh. 

He does the same to the left leg of your jeans, displaying your knees for his perusal. They’re red and already starting to bruise, but there’s no blood.

Ignoring the tingle his slashing sent up your spine, you say “You know, you could’ve just asked me to take them off.”

You’re starting to wonder how hard you hit your head and if you’re actually speaking as Bucky once again doesn’t respond, instead turning his attention to your arms. 

Bucky wraps a hand around each of your wrists, raising them above your head to scrutinise your forearms and hands. They’re scratched up real good and bleeding lightly.

The next ten or so minutes pass by quietly as Bucky cleans your scratches with careful movements.

He leaves the cut on your forehead last. 

Bucky’s metal hand cups your right cheek, the cold sensation an odd contradiction to the seemingly normal looking human hand you can see, courtesy of a cloaking device from Stark Industries for undercover missions like this one.

He cleans the cut above your left eyebrow as gently as he can but the pressure still causes you to wince.

Dark blue eyes cut to yours for a moment before focusing back on your injury.

You’re thankful for how lethargic your intense escape has made you, because if you were in an alert state right now you know your heart would be beating furiously at Bucky’s contact and close proximity.

Something he would’ve heard clear as day.

In fact, you’re feeling so lethargic your eyelids are beginning to droop.

“Hey,” Bucky murmurs “You with me?”

You hum, “Just tired.”

His metal thumb brushes over your cheek as he keeps working on your cut. “Gonna have to stay awake for a while, ‘til I know you’re okay.”

Eyes still closed, you huff.

“I’ll make you pasta for dinner.”

Your eyes shoot open at that and Bucky’s mouth tilts up in reaction.

“With garlic bread?” You ask hopefully.

Bucky’s nod makes you beam.

With a full stomach and Bucky’s permission to finally sleep, you crawl under the soft, white sheets of the king sized bed.

Curling onto your side facing Bucky, your eyes fall shut instantly, tiredness washing over you.

Reaching up, you gingerly touch the bandage Bucky placed over the cut on your forehead and your heart warms as you recall how he tended to you this afternoon.

“I never thanked you for the flowers.” You whisper suddenly into the darkness.

Despite calling Bucky not even an hour after you received them, you never said the words “thank you”. It had been the sole purpose of your call, but for some reason you couldn’t get the words out, couldn’t acknowledge what he’d done.

Acknowledging the flowers scared you, because it also felt like acknowledging your love for him - to him.

“You didn’t need to.” Is his simple reply.

“I did,” You disagree “They were beautiful Bucky, I… No one’s ever given me flowers before.”

The admission feels intimate, and you suppose it is. If you weren’t in such a drowsy state you wouldn’t be saying any of this.

When Bucky doesn’t respond after a couple of minutes you stop fighting the urge to sleep.

“Я куплю тебе столько цветов, сколько ты захочешь, маленькая птица.”

Already drifting off, you mumble “English.”

There’s a short pause.

“I’ll buy you as many flowers as you want, little bird.”

You fall soundly asleep at that moment, the confession heard only in your dreams.

[THE NEXT MORNING]

Pulling out a thick wad of junk mail from the letterbox, you close and lock the small hatch. 

“Morning neighbour.”

Forcing a smile, you turn to face Sean as he approaches. He’s shirtless, wearing only long pyjama pants.

Meh. Seen better.

“Hey Sean.”

Coming to a stop in front of you, he leans against your letterbox. “Any plans for the weekend?”

“Um,” You make a thoughtful expression “I’m not sure, I haven’t asked James yet.”

Grinning, Sean states “Being newly-weds, I think the plan would be obvious.” Leaning closer to point at the bandage on your forehead, he winks “Though it looks like maybe you’re getting a little too wild.”

Jesus.

You can’t decide whether to knee him in the balls or punch him in the nose, which sums up almost every interaction you’ve had with Sean.

The guy is a serious creep, something his file failed to mention.

You’re thinking of a response when a large hand slides over your right hip, settling on your stomach and pressing you back into a hard body.

Oh.

“Morning Sean.” There’s nothing friendly in Bucky’s tone.

Without waiting for a response, Bucky’s other hand weaves into your hair and tilts your head back until your eyes lock with his.

“I thought I told you to stay in bed.” He husks.

You’re certain your eyes bulge out of your head. 

It’s a good thing Bucky doesn’t expect a reply because there is not a single thought in your head. Just that sentence in that tone repeating over and over.

Fantasy fuel.

“Back inside.”

Yessiree.

Giving Sean a brief nod, Bucky takes you back to the house.

Stepping onto the porch, you’re still trying to remember your name when Bucky grunts beside you, gazing over his shoulder.

The arm around your waist tightens and the next thing you know, Bucky’s pulling you into his chest and kissing you.

Bucky’s mouth muffles your noise of surprise as his soft lips press against yours, absolutely bewitching you.

It’s the greatest kiss of your life and it only lasts five seconds.

Pulling back, Bucky’s dark blue eyes dart between yours, his pupils blown wide.

You can’t tell if it’s you or him who lunges forward to meet in another kiss. 

This kiss isn’t gentle, rather it’s bruising and greedy. Your hands find purchase in Bucky’s hair, the junk mail forgotten on the ground as you’re walked backwards into the house, Bucky kicking the door shut behind him.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x agent!reader #scrumptious3k #let's get married

[seat-safety-switch]

Anyone and everyone will talk shit about the humble turkey, but it’s that very bird which poses the greatest threat to humans in your neighbourhood. Letter carriers, package delivery folks, law enforcement, and newscasters alike are all subservient to the whims of an ornery tom. If I had a penny for every time I’ve had to face down some vicious poultry in my own front yard (they think the loose wiring harnesses lying in my lawn are tasty worms) then I’d have almost enough money to get my water switched back on.

One year, things were a little different. It was after Thanksgiving, almost time for Halloween. The air was cold and crisp, and you could see your breath in it. Every burst of profanity would condense onto the metalwork of the car you were swearing at, beautiful little bubbles of rage. That kind of night, you don’t want to stop turning a wrench, or your shitbox won’t be ready for the snowfall in a week or two. That’s when I heard it.

A turkey had wandered away from the nature preserve down the street. I say “nature preserve,” but both you and I fully understand that I actually mean “abandoned lot.” This was something I was prepared for, as it happened every year. As the baby turkeys mature, they want to wander away from mom and dad in search of new things to have sex with and/or eat. Unfortunately, one of the places that this turkey decided to wander was into my garage, where I was currently trapped beneath a decaying ‘83 Imperial, fighting a corroded brake-line junction.

I would be lying to you if I told you that the situation was resolved without violence. Of course, that violence was unidirectional. If you asked a physicist to draw the force diagram, they would sketch a lot of arrows pointed directly towards Yours Truly’s feet, legs, and genitals. The fates intervened in my favour, though, and the beast slipped on a pool of spilled ATF and slid to the other side of the garage, where it was knocked unconscious by a pile of precariously-stacked broken parts falling on it.

I’ll never forget that turkey. Now, when I work on cars, I first close the garage door, or use the buddy system. The big benefit of the latter option is that I can grab a YouTube video of my friend being attacked by an angry bird instead. That’s the kind of footage that might be able to get me a hot shower again, on some glorious future day.

[duhragonball]

[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (198/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball,  which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation.   This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made  on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: This story takes place about 1000 years before  66 years after the events of Dragon Ball Z.

     [April 20, 850 Age.   Toki Toki City.]  

On the lawn of the Time Nest, Trunks stood by helplessly while the Supreme Kai of Time finished her story.  

"--And once the Blood Rubies mission was complete," she said, "she stayed in the isolation ward until she was fully healed."

"So that's how the Ruby Loop got settled," Trunks said.   "I heard it was resolved, but no one could tell me who did it, or when.  But wait... you're saying the isolation ward is under the Time Vault?"  

"That's right," Chronoa said.  

"But I was keeping watch over the Time Vault that whole time," Trunks said. "You and Luffa were there all along and I had no idea!"

"I told you," Trunks," Chronoa said, "it's designed to contain and conceal anomalies so they don't interfere with the flow of history.  If you could have sensed a second Luffa from two weeks in the future, what good would that be?"

"Well, yeah," Trunks said.  He sheepishly rubbed his hand over the back of his head.   "But I feel a little silly standing guard like that when you were so close by."

She smiled warmly at him.  "Don't say that," she assured him.   "I needed that time to study Demigra's power, and Luffa had to recover from that fight with Lord Beerus."

"I suppose you're right," Trunks said.   "She was in pretty rough shape.  I still don't understand why she was so insistent on getting Beerus to knock her out like that."

"Hah!  I wouldn't expect you to understand, Trunks."

They turned to find Luffa approaching them from the direction of the small capsule house which served as Chronoa's personal residence.  

"Ah, right on time," Chronoa said.   Looking to Trunks she added: "See, I told you it'd be all right.  From your perspective she was only gone a few minutes, and now she's back at full health."

"What about Lord Beerus?" Luffa asked.  "Is he still here?"

"No," Trunks said.  "He agreed to let the Time Patrol handle Demigra while he left to take a nap."

"Perfect!" Luffa said.   She raised her hands in front of her face and began flexing her fingers excitedly.  "He's a pretty classy guy and all, but he was beginning to make me nervous. Thanks for keeping Whis occupied while we fought, by the way."

"You were beginning to get nervous?" Trunks asked.  

"I had to get him to take me down in one shot, Trunks," Luffa said, ignoring his question.  "Kakarot used the Yamoshi ritual to try to fight him on even terms, and Lord Beerus still dominated him.   But now that I've experienced that power for myself... well, at least I can wrap my head around it.  I don't know how to surpass it yet, but..."

"Surpass Lord Beerus?!" Trunks said with considerable alarm.  "Don't we have enough to worry about right now?!"

Luffa rolled her eyes and snorted.  "Like I said, Trunks, I didn't expect you to understand.   You might have inherited the Super Saiyan power from your father, but you lack his ambition.   All that Saiyan blood running in your veins, and you treat it like it's just another resource, like that sword on your back."

"You're out of line," Trunks said coldly.

Luffa raised an eyebrow and leaned in towards him.   "Oh, is that so?" she asked.   "And what are you gonna do about it?"

"I'm not taking the bait, Luffa," Trunks shot back.  "I know how much you want to fight another Super Saiyan, but I've got more important things to do than cater to your whims."

"And that just proves my point!" Luffa shouted as she threw her hands up in the air.   "You're so fixated on the objective that you don't notice the opportunities along the way!"

Before they could continue, Chronoa stepped between them and held out her hands.   "Could we please save the bickering for some other time?" she pleaded.   "We're supposed to be on the same side, for crying out loud!"

"Fine, fine," Luffa said.  "I'd think you'd want my input after all the work I've been putting in lately."

"We can talk about it after we settle things with Demigra, okay?" Chronoa said.  "Right now, let's just head inside and-- Oh no..."

She put her hand to her forehead and shut her eyes tightly, as though responding to a sudden headache.

"What's wrong?" Trunks asked.  

Both Saiyans reached out for her, but the Kai shook her head.   "I'm fine," she said, "but we need to get to the Time Vault, now."

********

Even after descending the stair to the Time Vault's vast atrium, Chronoa did not relax until she spotted the Divine Tokitoki Bird perched on one of the stools at the great octagonal table.   The bird's rising warble was enough to satisfy her that he was safe and secure.   Even so, she remained concerned.    

Moments later, Trunks began to share her unease.  "What is that?" Trunks asked.  

"You can sense it now, can't you, Trunks?" Chronoa said.  

"It's an evil power...," Trunks said.   "It's far away, but...!"

"Well, I can't sense anything unusual," Luffa said.

"That's because you're still new to the Time Patrol, Luffa," Chronoa explained.   "Powers like these, acting across time, they're too subtle for most mortals.   The Time Vault is designed to amplify such signals, and Trunks has dealt with such temporal menaces before, so he can pick up these things while inside this room."

"Then what is it?" Luffa asked.  

"I can't tell," Trunks admitted.  "Could it be--?"

"It's Demigra," Chronoa said with a nod.   "He finally escaped from the Crack of Time."

"Oh, right," Luffa said.   "We saw him here in the Time Nest before, but that was just one of his illusions.  I guess the real thing feels different."

"We should alert the Time Patrol," Trunks said.   "Demigra could show up at any moment."

"I'm more worried about how he shows up," Chronoa said.   "He made it clear that he'd seize control of the Time Nest by force, but will he try so sneak inside, or does he think he's powerful enough for a frontal assault?"

"We could just throw open the gates," Luffa suggested.   "We already know he's coming, but at least that way he has to stand and fight in the open."

"Even if that were a wise decision," Trunks said, "I doubt he'd make it that simple for us.  Demigra's been testing and prodding us this whole time. He's waited seventy-five million years for this moment.  He's not going to rush into anything."

"Trunks is right," Chronoa said.   "We need to be ready for anything, even--!"

She suddenly turned and looked to one of the cupboards holding the various scrolls that comprised the Scroll of Eternity.   Even as the Kai raced to the edge of the room, the Divine Tokitoki Bird began to make a shrill cry.  

"Don't tell me there's been another change in history!" Trunks said in disbelief.  

"What?!" Luffa asked.  

After a brief search, Chronoa located the affected scroll and held it up for the others to see.   The parchment glowed with an eerie purple flame, a sign of temporal incursion which had become very familiar to all of them.  

"This doesn't make sense," Luffa said.   "You told us before that he was only changing history to destabilize the seal that was keeping him in the Crack of Time.   But if he's already freed himself, then why bother--?"

"It's a diversion," Trunks said grimly.  "Demigra may not need to cause changes in history anymore, but he knows we still have a duty to repair the damage.  He's trying to exploit that duty to divide our forces."

"Well, if that's his plan, he's picked a fine way to go about it," Chronoa said.  She had returned to the octagonal table, where she unfurled the scroll and pointed at the moving image that appeared on the parchment.

"That's West City!" Trunks said.  "On Earth!"

Luffa recognized the city, as she had visited it in previous Time Patrol missions.  She also recognized the three figures standing in the middle of a busy road.   She had fought each of them at least once before.  

"Frieza," Luffa observed.  "And Cell.  And Majin Buu."  

"That's impossible!" Trunks said.  "They're all supposed to be dead in this time.  I killed Frieza myself!"

"Maybe Demigra plucked them out of other time periods," Luffa suggested.  "I mean, he could do that, couldn't he?"

"He could," Chronoa said, "but if he had, we'd be dealing with four scrolls instead of just one.   I don't know how he managed to do this, but it's clear that he's ready for a fight."  

"This is bad," Trunks said.   "It'll take some serious power to stop those three, and once we send anyone to that era, Demigra will attack Toki Toki City."

"Relax," Luffa said.  "I can handle those three by myself, and still make it back in time to help the rest of you if Demigra shows his face around here."

"You've got to be kidding," Trunks said.   "Kid Buu nearly killed you the last time you fought, and this time he's got backup!"

"That was then," Luffa said.   She began flexing and stretching her arms to prepare herself.   "Let's just say I'm feeling a lot more like my old self since that rumble with Lord Beerus."

"We don't have a choice," Chronoa said.   "We can't afford to send a large  contingent of warriors to deal with West City, so it'll have to be Luffa."  She looked at her with a pleading expression.   "Just try to get back here as quickly as you can."

"Understood," Luffa said with an eager grin.  

"Trunks," Chronoa said.   "I need you to look after Tokitoki.   No matter what, don't let him out of your sight.  Demigra will be sure to go after him."

"Of course," Trunks said.  He turned to look at the Divine Bird, who was preening his tail feathers. Then he looked back at Chronoa and asked: "But wait, where are you going?"

Chronoa had begun to head up the stairs leading to the grounds of the Time Nest. "There's something I need to do while we still have time," she said to them.   I'll rejoin you as soon as I can.   Now carry out your orders!"

She turned and left without another word.  

"You heard her," Luffa said as she approached the scroll.   "And don't worry.   I'll make this quick."

Trunks might have asked Luffa to be careful, but she had already picked up the scroll and vanished into the past before he could speak.  

*******

     [12 September, Age 778.   Earth.]  

Luffa arrived in downtown West City, and immediately knew where to go.   Her targets weren't bothering to hide their power, which was no surprise.   What did concern her was that they weren't actually doing anything.   The images in the Scroll showed them standing in the middle of a road.  This had caused a great deal of panic in the area, but that was all.  

She flew to their exact location in a matter of seconds.  Cell was the first to notice her as she dropped to the street to confront them.

"Ah, there you are!" he said.  He uncrossed his arms and held his fists at his sides ready for battle.   "You see, my little friends?  Our patience has paid off."

"You were expecting me, Cell?" Luffa asked.   "Then we were right.  This was a diversion."

"A diversion?" Frieza spat.   "More like a trap, designed to snare foolish interlopers such as yourself."

There was an electronic quality to Frieza's voice, and as Luffa approached the three of them, she noticed how different he looked from the last time she had seen him.   In his final form, Frieza was a sleek humanoid figure with a thick tail and chalk-white skin.   That was still mostly true, although his lower body, left arm, and parts of his chest and head had been replaced with cybernetic prosthetics.  She had seen this while watching him from the Scroll of Eternity, but assumed this was only armor.  Now, as she drew closer, she could see the deep scars on the flesh that still remained.  

"What the hell happened to you, Frieza?" she asked.  "I guess Kakarot really did a number on you, but I wasn't sure he had it in him."

"You know about Son Goku then?" Frieza asked idly.   "Good, then I shall spare you the exposition and cut straight to the point.  I have come to this wretched planet to destroy it, and to take my revenge on your countryman, Saiyan.   But as eager as I am to get started, circumstances have forced me to stay my hand until you arrived.  I don't see why a filthy monkey like yourself should warrant such restraint, but now that you are here, my vendetta may commence."

"You still don't get it, Frieza?" Cell asked.   "I thought it would have been obvious, but you have been processing a lot of trauma lately.   I'll make it easy for you to follow."  

Cell pointed an accusatory finger at Luffa, who tilted her head to one side in fascination.    "I had just finished regenerating myself after killing Son Goku, and I returned to the battlefield to settle things with his contemptible offspring, when suddenly I found myself here.  Much as I would have enjoyed taking out my frustrations on this worthless city, I felt a compulsion to wait until someone showed up to stop me.    Clearly, someone has gone to a great deal of trouble to use us to destroy this woman, whoever she is."

"Yeah, that just about sums it up," Luffa said with a snort.  "You chumps are just pawns in someone else's game.   Does that bother you, Cell?"

"Not in the slightest," Cell replied.  "I was created by Dr. Gero to destroy his enemies, so this is nothing new for me.  And I've had plenty of experience killing Saiyans, so one more is no great inconvenience.   Indeed, it should be quite entertaining."

"And what about Majin Buu?" Luffa asked.  

"Is that his name?" Cell asked.   He glanced over at the pink child-like creature who had been pouting beside him.   "The little imp hasn't said a word since we arrived here."

Buu glared at Luffa and began to breathe heavily.   Then he started to laugh.    

"You know," Cell said, "this seems like overkill to me.  My design incorporates all the powers of Frieza, which makes him obsolete in this venture, and while the boy has a powerful energy, it shouldn't be necessary.   After all, I made short work of Goku all on my own."

"Silence," Frieza hissed.   "I have endured this farce for long enough, and I will not stand by and watch now that the object of my wrath now stands before me."

Majin Buu made a growl which might have echoed the sentiments of the others.  

"Oh, don't fight over me, boys," Luffa said.  "There's plenty to go around."

With that, she transformed, and the entire street was bathed in the glow of her Super Saiyan aura.   Luffa rushed toward them before they could react, and with a loud cry, she drove her fist into Cell's abdomen.   As he doubled over, she grabbed Frieza's tail, and swung him around, causing his body to collide with Cell's face.   One of their bodies-- probably Frieza's-- made a sickening, muffled crunch upon impact.  

She didn't bother attacking Majin Buu as she knew he would strike first out of the three of them.   Accordingly, she made sure to hit the others so they wouldn't interfere with her defense.   When the pink fist reached her, she had her forearms up just in time to block it.    

"Hrrraaahhh?" Majin Buu asked.  

"Yeah," Luffa said.  "You may not remember the last time we fought, but it doesn't matter, because it's not going to be that easy this time."

She held out her arms and fired a burst of golden ki energy that surrounded Buu like a cage.   Before he could assess the situation, Luffa kicked it up into the air like a soccer ball.    Luffa didn't watch it as it sailed through the air.   She only heard the Doppler effect on Buu's screeching as he sailed uncontrollably over the city.   Instead, she turned to her other opponents.  

Cell was staggering to his feet, just as Luffa expected, but to her surprise, there was no sign of Frieza.

"Impressive," Luffa muttered.  "At least one of you two managed to make this interesting."

Cell coughed up something purple as he clutched his chest.   "You... you're a fool to underestimate me...!" he sputtered.  

"Where'd he go?" Luffa asked sternly.   "Tell me, or I'll make this hurt."

Instead of answering, Cell made a desperate leap towards her.   His face was twisted with rage, though Luffa could see fear behind his pink eyes.   She had surprised him a moment ago.  He hadn't expected to be knocked down so quickly, and he was determined to prove that it was a fluke.  

"Vengeance Cannon," Luffa said as she quickly swung her left arm at Cell and fired a crimson beam from her index and middle finger.   The ki blast hit him at pointblank range.   If Luffa had been an instant slower, her fingers could have touched Cell's face.   Instead, the beam had to travel a few centimeters before it connected with his nose.   The exit wound passed through his lower back, then punched a hole through his right wing.  

Only his momentum carried him forward, and Luffa put a stop to that with a punishing elbow smash to the top of Cell's cranium.   He fell to the asphalt with a loud thud, and after a moment of convulsion, he managed to grasp his face in both hands.   Cell tried to scream, but the wound Luffa had dealt him had made this impractical. At best, he could only make a gurgling wail.  

There was still no sign of Frieza, and so Luffa took to the air to chase after Majin Buu.   She had intended to focus on him anyway, and if Frieza were planning something, it would be simpler to wait for him to come after her.   She found Buu almost exactly where she expected him.   The ki she had surrounded him with had detonated several hundred feet above the city, leaving a cloud of pink mist.    By the time she reached him, the mist had collected itself into several dozen small blobs, which now formed a multitude of tiny Buu copies.   They all snarled in unison when Luffa approached.  

"Demigra really did a number on you this time," Luffa said.   "Before, you would have destroyed this whole city, if not the entire planet.   But now you just wait for me.   Too bad."

The group of mini-Buus flew after Luffa like a swarm of insects.   Even as they attacked, some of them began to combine together to form larger bodies.  

"It's a damn shame, because I wanted to fight the real you!" Luffa said as she dodged and blocked their tiny fists and ki blasts.    "Not this puppet you've become!  Demigra thinks he's made you more focused, but all he's done is to make you predictable!"

She generated a concussive wave with her energy, just strong enough to knock the miniature Buus away, all except for one of the smaller ones, which she grabbed with both hands.   She then flew straight ahead with her arms out in front of her, driving her tiny captive into one of the larger Buus.   The result left both of them haphazardly merged together.  They would have recombined eventually, on their own terms, but by forcing them together before they were ready, Luffa was able to keep these two off-balance.  

"Rrrgh!  Raaaaah!" cried the two Buus, as they flailed their eight limbs helplessly.   The little one almost looked like he was drowning in the other.

The rest of the Buus were already coming after her, but Luffa had enough time for what came next.   Grabbing hold of her victim, she charged her hands with ki, until her fingers glowed like molten iron.   With a savage howl, she released the power into the flesh of both Buus, and they exploded in her grasp.  

When the smoke cleared, there was no trace of them.   The other mini-Buus halted in mid-air and watched with horror as Luffa held out her empty hands.

"Who's next?" she growled.  

Despite Kid Buu's nearly mindless appetite for violence and mayhem, despite Demigra's dark magic forcing him to attack Luffa at all costs, there was still enough sense in the creature to understand what she had just done.  As one, the mini-Buus all stared at her with the same wide-eyed, slack-jawed expression.  

They were afraid.  

As the realization sank in, they quickly joined together and formed a single Kid Buu once more.   The terror in his eyes quickly gave way to outrage.

"You're not as dumb as you look, squirt," Luffa said.   "I just wiped out a decent chunk of you, and you seem to have grown that back already, but how long can you keep that up?"

This form of Majin Buu never seemed to talk, but he seemed to understand her well enough.  He set his teeth and snarled as jets of steam fired from the holes in his head and shoulders.   His eyes, already glowing red from Demigra's magic, now burned with an even more intense hatred.  

"Yeah, you won't be splitting into pieces like that again anytime soon, will you?" Luffa asked.  "You'd better start taking this seriously from here on.   Hah!   Demigra sent you to kill me?  Well I came here to kill you."

She gave him no time to react.   Even before she finished speaking, Luffa rushed toward him, and landed a punch to his abdomen.   She followed with an elbow to the back of the head, then grabbed one of his feet and swung him further into the air.  

It was still dangerous to take Majin Buu for granted.   As confident as she was that she could now defeat him, he was still strong enough to hurt her if she gave him a chance.   If she took too much damage from this fight, it would be playing right into Demigra's plans, so it was vital that she defeat  him as decisively as she could.  

Still, despite the risks, she was grateful for the opportunity.   Challenges like Majin Buu were rare, and now that Frieza and Cell were out of the way, she could really enjoy the battle.   As she chased after Buu, firing bolts of golden ki from her fingertips, Luffa couldn't help but smile.

*******

Below, Cell lay in a heap on the road.  He was still alive, but too badly injured to move. Luffa's attack had punctured his brain, spinal column, and a number of organs unique to his artificial physiology.   He still possessed the ability to regenerate, thanks to the Namekian traits imparted by Piccolo's cells, but regeneration worked properly when growing back an entire body part.   If Luffa had blasted off his entire upper body, as Son Goku had done during their battle at the Cell Games, then he could have regenerated that injury with ease.   As it was, he was badly hurt, without the motor skills necessary to take care of himself.  

As he clumsily flailed his right arm over his head in a desperate effort to take action, a crowd of bystanders gathered around at what they thought was a safe distance.  

"It looks like that Cell monster!" was a common refrain among their chatter.

"But Mister Satan destroyed him years ago!"

"What happened to him?"

Some of them fled, unwilling to wait around for Cell to recover.   Others believed that there could be no safe haven from Cell's power, while others clung to the hope that their hero, Mister Satan, would rescue them again.   As they watched the creature, another figure appeared.   He descended from the sky and landed next to Cell's body.  

"You really blew it, didn't you?" he muttered as he knelt beside Cell.

"Nmmph... Whuhhh?" was all Cell could say in response.  

The crowd was understandably confused.  

"Who in tarnation is this guy?" asked one of the bystanders.   "I didn't think Cell had any friends."  

"He's got that same purple smoke coming off his body," said another.   "They must be working together!"

The man reached into the belt of his fighting clothes, and withdrew a bean, which he stuffed into Cell's mouth.  

"This should get you back on track," he said.   "And then you can finish her off."

Nothing happened for a few seconds.  The man simply remained at Cell's side and waited.   None of the onlookers knew what to make of it.   Then, at last, the purple smoke surrounding Cell's body began to glow more intensely, and he quickly sprang to his feet.    Rising to full height, he examined his hands, flexing his fingers as though making sure they still worked properly.    

"He's alive!" screamed one of the civilians.    

"Yes..." Cell said.   "Alive and well... and ready to return to the battle.   It seems I'm in your debt.   How ironic."

"Don't let it go to your head," the man said.   "Just concentrate on what matters.   Killing her."  

Cell smiled as he spared a moment to revel in the terrified faces in the crowd.  Then he cast his gaze in the direction where Luffa and Majin Buu had gone.    "Yes, of course," he said.  "The mission is all that matters now.  And this time, she will not escape me so easily, Son Gohan."

As Gohan looked in the same direction, his eyes glowed red, matching Cell's.   "This time," he said, "she dies."

 NEXT: A House Divided

#dragon ball #fanfiction #lssjluffafic #super saiyan #luffa #trunks #chronoa #frieza #cell #perfect cell #majin buu #i went with mechafrieza instead of full-power like he was in the game #i hope that's okay with everybody since mecha is the coolest frieza form

[sniperjade]

As You Wish Chapter 2 - Peacocks He's Got Fifty-Three

Draco stared out of the large cathedral window, at the peacocks pecking at the manicured lawn. Two of them were fussing over, what must be a particularly fat and juicy worm, because they were flapping at each other and struggling. He had seen it happen a million times before, and as regal as the birds were, they were intensely territorial and did not hesitate to fight over the most ridiculous of things. He could imagine the sound of it, their small little cries and squawks as they jostled and pecked at each other.

His hand was pressed up against the glass and he wondered what it would be like to live their life. Simple, based on instinct and need, rather than tradition and expectation. Confined as they were within the boundaries of the estate, they felt far freer than he ever had.

A hand pressed into the small of his back and circled around to rest on his hip, as a chin fell onto his shoulder.

“Draco,” Astoria murmured into his ear as she pressed kisses into his neck. “My tea reading from this morning was very positive. Do you think we could…?”

Her hand began to move, skirting over his hip and moving down – he pressed a hand down over the top stopping its progress. Breathe. Just breathe. The last thing he needed was for that hand to discover exactly how little his cock cared about her tea reading. Fuck. You can do this. He turned in the circle of her arms and lifted a hand up to cup her jaw.

With the softest pressure, he tilted her head back and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Astoria, I have to get to Gringotts. I promised Father I would be back by lunch so that we could go over his latest project.”

She pouted, those perfect pink lips fluffing up prettily. He hated that he could look at this woman, who should be everything he ever wanted, and feel nothing. Astoria was one of the prettiest people he had ever met. She had delicate features, wide eyes and softly curling blonde hair that came together to create this picture-perfect girl. He had thought that over time that would be enough. That whatever, small misapprehensions he’d had, prior to their marriage would disappear after years of learning to know one another.

He had been wrong. Bile filled his throat and he desperately tried to push it down. His love for Astoria had changed and grown but not in the way that it was supposed to. He adored her. She was sweet and lovely and made him want to protect her like she was his sister. The problem was that he found her as attractive as a sister as well. Which was to say that he didn’t. He had to imagine someone else completely just to get hard. There was a reason their intimate experiences always took place in darkened rooms and cupboards.

“We’re never going to produce an heir if we never actually fuck,” she whined.

He held his face in an impassive mask as he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

“We’re still young, my sweet,” he assured her as he let his arms fall, to rub at her shoulders, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

She sighed again her eyebrows turning down into a frown and her hands wringing in front of her. “I know, but everyone keeps asking and asking, and I don’t know what to tell them.”

He pulled her into a hug and tucked her head underneath his chin. “It’s none of their business but you can tell them that we’re content to be just us for now.”

He ran his hands soothingly up and down her back trying to hold back his ire. It wasn’t her fault that everyone was asking. His life was a cage made up of the expectations of other people. He rarely did anything he wanted to do, as he constantly navigated his way around what his family wanted, what his wife wanted, and what the rest of society wanted.

After a long moment, he pushed her back to arm's length so that he could look at her face. “How about I get you a treat while I’m out at Diagon?”

A brilliant smile broke out on her face as she looked up at him in adoration. “You always think of the most inventive things. Love you.”

She pushed up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek before skipping her way out of the door. Pausing at the door jamb she leaned to one side and fluttered her eyelashes at him in an attempt to be seductive, she purred, “And maybe you’ll get your errands done quickly and you can come home early. My door is open.”

She blew him a kiss as she disappeared through.

He let out a breath and suppressed a groan. How was he supposed to go on like this? His chest began to feel tight as he struggled to breathe. He couldn’t keep putting this off forever, but if he did fuck her like she wanted, and she got pregnant, the door of his cage that he had longingly been looking out of, would slam close and that would be the end.

He lifted his hand up and began to chew on his thumbnail as he thought. It was a terrible habit that his parents had constantly tried to train him out of, but it always reappeared in times of stress. His nails had been gnawed down to the quick in the sixth year.

No, he was being ridiculous about this. With magic at his disposal, there was always a solution to these sorts of problems. He could make a potion. A potion would turn him temporarily infertile and then he can go to a strip club with Blaise later today so that he can come home and fuck his wife. It’s fine. It will all be fine.

He checked his watch. If he hurried, he could get the potion on and under a temperance charm so that it would be ready by the time he got back.

Continue reading on Ao3.

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #tomione #tom riddle #hpfanfiction

[askthechronoverse]

Chapter Six: Kind Hearts Don't Grab Any Glory!

Last Chapter •||• Next Chapter

The forest was full of energy far too early for the dark clad adventurer as he opened his front door with coffee in a mug that had a picture of his face that was clearly drawn by a child. Hawkodile and another hybrid creature, this one an alligator crossed with an eagle were exchanging blows while a flamingo with a turtle shell watched eagerly.

"Hm. Gonna be that kinda morning." Rex muttered into his cup as he walked next to the flamingo. "You fightin' the winner, Pinky?"

"Yeah!" She turned to see who had spoken and laughed. "Did we wake you, old man?"

"Nope. But ya are on my lawn." He put his cup on the windowsill. "That means I get next as the host." He smirked.

"You? Don't make me laugh. Ya look like ya couldn't beat a drum solo."

"And you look like you should be on a bubblegum wrapper. We could always fight for next. I'm game if you are." He hit his left palm with his right hand balled in a fist.

"Don't cry to me when ya break your back!" The flamingo charged at Rex, who hit her with a left hook that sent her to the ground. She shook her head and laughed wildly. "Oh it is so on!" She came at the man with a flying kick, which he blocked with his arm. Another punch sent the shelled bird into a tree between the lizard rivals. They stopped to watch the flamingo rush at Rex, who countered the flying kick with a cross punch to her shell. Her kicks gained blinding speed, but the man was able to roll in time to avoid the more devastating blows.

"Dude. Who is that guy?" The gator lifted an eyebrow, flexing his black wings. "Hey! Guy! Flamurtle! We're fightin' over here!"

"Eaglator! Ya ain't the most important thing in the forest! The old guy's good!" Flamurtle finally landed a kick on Rex's chest, sending him into the side of his house.

"I ain't that old, Pinky!" He ran at Flamurtle with a Superman punch aimed at her shell. She spun around, dazed for a second.

"Bro. Can ya take this somewhere else? You'll get in the way!" Hawkodile sent a haymaker Eaglator's way, taking his rival by surprise.

"I guess you got a point there." By this point, Flamurtle had charged Rex again, but this only got the bird trapped in a headlock. Rex shrugged. "But this is my front yard. I should get a say who fights and who doesn't. I'm not a fan of rebuildin' my cabin every week." The punk bird slipped out of Rex's grasp.

"How we gonna settle this, old man?" Eaglator growled.

"First: I'm in my early thirties. Not that old. Second: I say we do this like Tyler Durden." Rex grinned wildly. "We create a fight club. It does mean we gotta play by some basic rules, but it'll mean we can avoid this crap."

"Ugh. Rules. What, so no low blows and stuff like that?" Eaglator rolled his eyes.

"Nope. Actually, one of them is literally 'one fight at a time'. Nothin' too restrictive." Rex leaned on a tree. "So. You guys wanna listen, or do we just go back to fightin' each other in a big pile? I'm cool either way."

"OK, bro. I'll hear ya out." Hawkodile flexed his wings. "What's a fight club?"

"Just that. A club where we fight." He was glossing over the more chaotic and anarchical aspects, but that wasn't relevant for this plan. "Two guys at a time in the ring. One fight at a time. No weapons, just you. If someone taps out or goes down, it's over. Fight goes on as long as it has to and we keep this little agreement between us four. If ya can agree to that, I think we can have some fun here."

"I'll agree. Those rules ain't bad." Hawkodile approvingly nodded.

"Eh, it's gonna be a change, but I'm down if it means I finally get some action." Flamurtle shrugged.

"Does that mean we don't get to fight any other time?" Eaglator folded his arms.

"Actually, no. Outside of the ring, I don't care whatcha do. I know ya got a thing goin' on and I ain't here to change that. Just make sure we all get a chance to hit each other in the name of sport… or training… or whatever."

"Fine. If Hawkodile's on board, I'll do it."

"Looks like we're doin' this. Let me go clear some trees." He gestured to a field close enough to be seen where they stood, but far enough away to not have flying fighters hit his house.

"Ya gotta let me help, little man. I bet I can get the trees cleared with my kicks faster than your punches!" Flamurtle rushed off to start clearing trees. The remaining three combatants worked to get a fence around the perimeter with the felled trees.

"Shocked he ain't tellin' us we can't fly. He's a human and the rest of us got wings." Eaglator rolled his eyes as he worked to hammer some logs into the ground.

"I don't think we gotta worry about him. I heard he has a punch that can cause earthquakes. I'm almost insulted. I think he was holding back on me." Flamurtle sat on top of an already hammered log.

"He probably was. I heard he went soft. Used to be the most feared thing in the whole galaxy." Eaglator laughed. "Why give that up to hang out with the Unikingdom royal family?"

"I don't think you've seen the guy when he's fired up, bro." Hawkodile propped a log up for Eaglator to hammer. "He's got some scary energy, I hear. It'd make my life harder if he tried to level the planet or something, so I'm glad he ain't about that right now."

"Hey! Little man! Were you holding back on me before?" Flamurtle shouted to the Master Breaker, who was in the process of installing a door in the area.

"I was about to ask the same thing, Pinky! Your kicks were weak!"

"I wanna get first fight with you, little man! It is so on!" Flamurtle shouted back, wings flitting with raw aggressive energy. The three men finished their work and the flamingo flew down to join them. "By the way, I so need to tell Owlamander about this. She'll want in, too."

"Ok. Here's how this is goin' down. Hawk and Eaglator, finish your fight. Then me and Pinky. Then winner of both fights gets the last one. We cool with this?" The other three agreed. "Cool. Go for it, guys." Rex walked to the door and closed it, waiting for the fight to begin. Flamurtle took a seat on top of the fence. The fight soon began, the two fighters clearly evenly matched. The fight went on for a while, during which Rex left and returned with sandwiches for the group. He jumped up on the log next to Flamurtle and offered her one. She took it and ripped into it.

"Why are ya here in a place like this, little man? Ya could be anywhere with the skills I hear ya got."

"I'm tryin' to find myself. I've been lost for a long time, in more ways than one." Rex looked at the fight, but his mental focus was on Flamurtle.

"Action Forest is some place to do it. You having any luck?"

"Not really. I think I got close, then I'm faced with my past mistakes again. I got time, though. More time than ya might think."

"I feel like ya got this. If anyone can, it's the famous Master Breaker. Ya just gotta do some breakin' in here." She pat his head roughly. "Don't worry. I'll knock some sense into ya soon."

"Wouldn't want it any other way, Pinky." Rex heard a shout from below them. Eaglator was tapping out. "Looks like we're up. No holdin' back this time, promise." He jumped down and smirked. "Hawkodile is the winner this round. Time to finish what the oversized lawn ornament and I started."

"Let's go, wingless wonder." Flamurtle beckoned Rex with her hand to make the first move. "Show me the strength that made the stars fall out of the sky! Ka KAW!" Rex turned and headed for the closest part of the wall to him. "Come on! You gonna chicken out now?"

He jumped to the top of the wall. Hawkodile could see the unbridled and deep well of rage behind the human's dark eyes, an anger that burned hot enough that it would swallow most weaker men whole. He wasn't sure Flamurtle saw this as well. The human jumped off of his perch and flew to the ground, fist held straight in front of him. Hawkodile made it his business to know Rex's fighting technique. He was already starting with his ace, the punch that helped end the universe. He wanted to step in, but the attack connected with the target before he could: the ground? Why did he miss Flamurtle? It took a few moments for the move to make sense.

The impact of the Master Breaker Punch caused Flamurtle to be knocked off her feet by the shockwave and blinded by the neon blue and green energy. Rex took advantage of the confusion and slammed into the flamingo with a spinning back fist, followed by a series of alternating left and right hooks. An uppercut sent his sparring partner flying skyward.

"Ya wanna call it now, Pinky?" He shouted, the fire in his eyes not letting up. "I could keep goin' all day."

"Death from above!" The flamingo flew at the man with terrifying speed and force, leg extended for a flying kick. She drove the man into the ground, emitting a scream that sent soundwaves into the hole Rex made with his body. She flew above the hole and laughed. "Get the lead out, old man! Come o-ah!"

Rex grabbed her left leg and used it to pull himself out of the crater, then threw her to the wall like a shot put. He rushed out to where she landed and hit her with an overhand hook to the beak. He then smashed her with a fury of jabs and hooks, yelling as he landed each frenzied punch. She blocked a few of the hooks, but most of them broke through her defenses.

"Love the fury, little man!" She threw her opponent a left hook, which landed on the side of his face. "Love the passion!" She jumped up and tried to hit him with a roundhouse kick and another soundwave attack. He blocked the kick with his arms, but was blown away by the yell. "Keep my heart racin'!" She tried to hit Rex with a spinning kick, but Rex grabbed her leg and threw her again, hitting her with an uppercut before she hit the wall. Hawkodile could see Rex was almost on a kind of autopilot now, letting his inter rage guide and strengthen his attacks. He would be interesting to fight, if it came to that in this arena. Another throw from Rex and Flamurtle was out cold.

"Rex gets the win." Hawkodile bellowed. He rushed to Flamurtle, who he was able to wake up. She staggered out of harm's way as the crocodile made sure she wasn't too damaged. "Flamurtle, don't push yourself next time. He had ya on the ropes. Think of this like training, not a real fight. No shame in tappin' out."

"You know I go all out, Hawk. That's all I do." She smirked. "Man, if I didn't have a nemesis… Woo!" Hawkodile rolled his eyes and walked over to Rex, who was doing circular breathing to calm himself.

"Rex, are you down to fight? Ya can back down if ya think you can't handle another." Hawkodile could see the man tremble and hear a jaggedness in his breath.

"I gotta keep up. I'll be fine." Rex waved Hawkodile away. "Are you ready, bro?"

"I'm ready when you are. Just gonna tell you what I told Flamurtle: Don't push yourself. This ain't the big leagues. Ya have nothing to prove."

"Let's go. Come on." Rex took a fighting stance.

"Alright, bro. You got it." Hawkodile's stance was defensive. He watched Rex's eyes and could see that fire again. Would it ever die down? Was that why he insisted on fighting despite needing a break? Rex charged at him with a heavy right hook, which wasn't hard to block. The two spent a few minutes just exchanging heavy blows until Rex jumped up on the fence again. Hawkodile flew on the fence next to him and knocked the man back down to the arena floor with a low sweep. Rex slowly got up, breathing heavily. Hawkodile didn't know if he should be in awe at his opponent's determination or worried. "Eaglator. Bro. Call it. He doesn't look good." This was answered with Rex setting up a Master Breaker Punch, the gator watching intently. He teetered on the top of the fence as he lined up his target. Hawkodile braced for impact, but his opponent simply fell off of the fence without finishing the move. The hawk caught him and put him on the ground. "Bro! Call the fight!"

"The guy said it himself, bro. Fights go on as long as they need to. He's still lookin' to fight. Look." Eaglator pointed to Rex, who connected a haymaker at Hawkodile's turned back. Hawkodile hit the ground and rolled his eyes. He blocked a few punches from the human before grabbing him by the collar.

"Bro. This fight is over." He threw Rex over his shoulder. "He may wanna fight, but he's not like us. He needs to build up to that."

"Ya gotta push yourself to get to where we are, Hawkodile. Let him finish the fight." Eaglator grabbed the human and set him down. "Ya hearing this, bro? He thinks you're weak." With a bellow, the human rushed at the hawk chimera, the fire burning hotter than it had all day. One punch and the fight was over… for Rex. Hawkodile threw the human on his shoulder, staring daggers at his eternal rival before walking out of the arena.

#the newspaper isn't antiquated •||• written works

[ondynmael]

"Waves In The Sand" furry m/m Part 2 of 5

Check out the PDF on Fur Affinity https://www.furaffinity.net/user/ondynmael

The show was sick. Car Seat Headrests opened the night on the main stage – I couldn’t believe I was performing at the gig as them – followed by Against Me! and Lemon Demon. We came after Glass Beach, practically locals, and the night was wrapped up by Teamonade and half a dozen others. Playing along huge names like that really drove it home: we’d fuckin’ made it. I pounded my hands raw on my drumset, and sweat streamed down my face as the crowd roared over the sound of distant waves late into that hot early summer night. 

But no lie, the whole set I was hoping to look across the audience of half-naked queers and see a chunky seal watching me from the front of the open pit. I never did.

Whatever, we crushed it. Guys, girls, and everything in between were practically throwing themselves at Shredder, black make-up ringing his eyes like he was a racoon, spiked bracelets glinting in the stage lights, and shirtless from the start of the show. He was always the first to strip for the fans. Taylor was usually not long after, taking the first chance he could set down his bass and ditch his tight-fitting tee. Taylor had ditched his boobs years ago and took every opportunity to show off his chiseled pecs and the bad-ass surgery scars that underscored them. Then he turn around and flex his sleek eagle wings, to raucous and often lewd cheers. Paulo, our pianist and best dressed bandmate, sometimes kept his shirt on, but clearly he was performing for someone in the audience because his slick salamander skin was bare and gleaming under the stage lights long before the final song.

As the only band member without visible abs, I usually kept my shirt on at shows, self-concious of my belly that looked even chubbier when I was sitting down at the drums. But I usually wasn’t left out at the end of the night when everyone was hooking up, and I could tell tonight would be no exception.

It was almost three am by the time the final band wrapped up. The air was thick with the smell of weed and sweat and pheromones, Swarms of party animals, strung out on molly, coke, and punk music, poured out over the lawn of the venue and started trickling into cars and vans to go home or just pass out until doing the whole thing over again tomorrow. 

We all joined up backstage. Shredder and Taylor pulled up with some slutty-looking guys in leather and glowsticks, as well as two bunnies from an all non-binary band, and a ripped wolf-dog guitarist who looked weirdly shy. Even Paulo appeared, drunk as hell, his arm draped around a robin even twinkier than he was. By their matter fur and feathers it was clear both had already been fucking around in some dark corner. Everyone wanted to go back to the hotel, and it was obvious what was gonna come next after that. 

Of course I’d be welcome at the orgy, but I hadn’t brought a guest myself. Sure, I’d been groped by a couple random people, even made out with a panda chick who offered her tits to my face after she’d bummed a hit from my joint. But I couldn’t get into any of it. 

I knew exactly why: fucking Auxwald. I hadn’t even spoken to him, he’d written off Shredder and I completely, and now I was surrounded by fans who’d let me fuck them in a second just cuz I was in a band. And still I was thinking about that meaty ass, those smooth, tattooed arms, and most of all that lazy poise, lounging by the poolside like he owned the place. Owned the whole fucking world. I wanted a piece of that.

We all drove back squeezed in the wolf-dogs van – he was sober, somehow – and I clumsily groped one of the bunnies before we reached the silent hotel parking lot and fumbled out in a raucous pile. Paulo’s robin whined for a minute about his missing shoes, but Paulo slurred that he’d buy the bird a new set, and we all finally headed up to Shredder and Paulo’s room, everyone’s orifices loose and watering, and those with penises fighting against weed and psychedelics to avoid the clerks at the front desk noticing their hard-ons.

Things escalated pretty quickly. The bunnies got on their knees for Shredder and he topped one after another. The two leather guys fooled around in the corner and watched as Taylor proudly donned his strap-on and went to town on the wolf-dog, who blew Paulo and his robin friend at various intervals, while they held hands and kissed with drunken grins.

I tried to get caught up in it. I really did. But I found myself just watching abjectly from the bathroom doorway, not even half-erect, clothes still on. 

Eventually Shredder swaggered over to me, his cock still hard and damp after dumping his first load of the night. “I gotta tag out for a minute,” he slurred. “Get in here, bruh.” He cracked a beer and started chugging.

When I didn’t move, Shredder sighed. “At least get your fuckin’ pants off. Are you even hard?”

I wasn’t. “I think I need to take a walk,” I said quietly.

Shredder nodded. He was familiar with my funks and knew better than to push me. “Have fun, bro. We’ll be here when you get back. Well, not Paulo, I think he’s gonna puke and pass out before long.”

I laughed, and Shredder clapped me on the back.

“Everything good, Sand?” my friend asked. His eyes were bloodshot and his fur toussled from sex, but his voice was serious. I felt my heart warm with gratitude for my friend.

“Yah, man. You guys have fun.”

“Bye, big ‘roo,” the robin slurred as I left, and Paulo laughed like an idiot. I rolled my eyes. The smell of cum and booze was strong, not exactly a bad smell, but I needed fresh air. I grabbed a towel and my cannabis vape, closing off the sounds of wild animals in the room behind me as I headed for the beach.

—

The ocean breeze was light and cool on my fur. It tossed up grey shadowy waves on to the horizon, nearly invisible for the massive spotlights glaring out over the empty beach. My bare feet sunk into the sand, still warm a few inches down, as I stood and scanned the beach for a dark area where I could just vibe. There, south of the hotel: some dunes out of the reach of the false lights. I walked slowly, savoring the rich salty scent of the Pacific Ocean.

The waves lashed the shore, gliding far up the beach before receding, gliding up, pulling out, endlessly, eternally. I puffed my vape and watched the cloud of vapor get whisked away over the dunes of whistling sea grasses. It looked like a ghost blown in off the waves, barely there, already gone and forgotten.

What the fuck was wrong with me?! I should be amped after a show, especially one that rocked so hard. I’d had an amazing time while there, but now it was like the lust and passion of the evening had drained away into some hole I couldn’t see, far below, ready to eat me too if I gave into this weird despair. 

I had struggled with depression years ago, before meeting Shredder, before I even learned the drums. After college I broke up with my then-boyfriend, carting all my shit to SoCal for some bullshit office job. I missed my friends, I missed fucking someone I loved, I missed even the cooler winters upstate. I sat around, getting fat and not making any serious friends, until I started taking drum lessons. The drums had changed everything. I worked my ass off and ‘graduated’ from my teacher in under two years. I bought my own set and started to master stuff Between the Buried and Me and Dragonforce, AJJ and Hella. I started a band with my guitarist co-worker, and we rocked out every weekend, even played some local gigs. She could tell I was more serious, though, and said I should start looking for larger bands. 

The Try-Hards came to the city four years ago. I could still remember that first show, a shitty little basement at a dive bar. They were a duo, Shredder and Taylor, with Taylor’s cousin touring on a tiny-ass set. I saw how fuckin’ hard the fox and eagle went, while the poor teen chickadee on the drums struggled to keep up with their energy, and knew they needed someone more hard-core. I spoke to Shredder afterwards, found out he was gay, and we sealed my contract with the band by going back to my place, sucking each other off, and then giving him a demo of him my skills, waking up the neighbors at 4am. Fuck ‘em, we were having fun. Six months later, I quit my job, and six months after that we were signed to a major label, with a little salamander rounding out our sound and doing most of the heavy lifting in mixing.

Three years with my best friends. Now here we were, performing at nationally famous music festivals and hosting orgies at beach resorts. I was surrounded by punk queers, I playing music I helped create, and I making enough money to actually put something in the bank each month. This was the fucking life.

So why was I getting high alone on this beach at night? I leaned forward and felt my belly rest on my thighs. It wasn’t like my looks stopped me from getting laid; just the opposite, really, some people really liked the dad bod and weren’t put off by my resting ‘roo face. But it was always these skinny guys with daddy issues who wanted me to fuck them. It was fun, but sometimes, I wanted to be held, you know? Be the little spoon. I hadn’t been fucked myself in a few years now. I just never met anyone who did it for me; hell, I couldn’t even remember it was that made me lift my tail for the boys. I was just a top to the last guy I’d been remotely serious with. Shredder and Taylor didn’t get it, they could top for hours and never get bored. And Paulo was such a serial bottom, he probably hadn’t gone a week without a dick in his ass since he lost his virginity.

But I needed it. I could feel the weed loosening up my body and my hole with it. I raised my tail, wiggling it in the sand, and felt the smooth grains shift under my broad butt, imprinting itself on the beach for someone to see tomorrow and wonder who that fatass was with the big tail. I felt comfortable yet antsy. The moon swam by like a round fish, heading toward the waves. Stars cluttered the darkness of the sky like grains of sand on black leather, probably what my shorts would look like in the morning. 

What was Auxwald doing right now? He said something about shooting… Did he go hunting for sport? In the city? Maybe there was a range or something nearby…

The waves shushed my thoughts in a gentle crash, eating sand castles and flooding ditches and moats kids had built during the day. A lone towel someone had forgotten was dangerously close to the water, but the tide was going out, so it would possibly be safe until it’s owner returned in the morning. 

I squinted at the towel, partially illuminated by a stray beam from the hotel floodlights. It wasn’t just a towel, there was what looked like a beach bag too. And was that…? I stood up to inspect.

Yah, it was. In a pile next to the bag was a large Hawaiian shirt, bright yellow with pineapples and wooden buttons. Who could have forgotten all this shit? I looked around, but there were no silhouettes up and down the beach in either direction.

There was something under the shirt. I nudged it with one foot and my eyes widened. This wasn’t just a top but a whole damn outfit, a pair of green cargo shorts and underwear folded neatly under the shirt. Was someone running around in the buff? Kinda hot, actually, just walking the beach naked at night. Maybe I should do that…

And then I looked at the underwear again and my stomach turned upside down. That was no set of boxers: it was a pink speedo. On the tag I could make out three little letters: XXL.

My head spun.

Another loud wave sloshed up the beach, and I turned to look, butterflies whirling in my belly, the weed turning the world into a slush of washed-out color and crashing water. There, occasionally cresting above the caps of the waves, was a shape, grey on grey, speckled with moonlight.

Someone was swimming in the ocean.

Even as I watched, the figure in the water stood, waist deep in the water, and began to head towards shore. Panic seized me. Should I run? Should I stay and introduce myself, so they knew it wasn’t a creeper? Or was it creepy enough I was just standing here, messing around with their shit? 

Maybe they hadn’t seen me. I started to walk away.

“Hey.” The familiar voice was quiet against the background noise of the ocean, and suddenly I realized how loud it all was, the crashing waves, the wind, the hammering of my heart in my ears. But I couldn’t run now. Slowly I turned to face the figure emerging from the water.

Auxwald heaved his heavy body out of the surf. He gleamed in the moonlight, scintillating under the cold water slicking off of his seal skin. His round belly bounced as he strode calmly but quickly toward me, and as he drew nearer, I could see he was indeed buck-ass naked.

I wanted to turn away – oh who am I kidding, no I didn’t. But a part of me was screaming that I should, that this was weird, this was awkward as fuck, I was intruding on something I shouldn’t be. But I just stared and gave the world’s most feeble, “‘sup?” like we were passing in opposite directions on the subway stairs.

Auxwald’s intense black tattoos curled around his wrists and arced up his forearms and biceps, round with muscle and fat. He did have fur after all, a light down that was almost invisible, and whiskers on his round, stubby snout almost like a cat. He was looking down at me, and I realized he was at least six feet, probably nearly three hundred and fifty pounds.His dark eyes bored into me with a calm patience that said, “what the fuck are you doing with my stuff?

“What the fuck are you doing with my stuff?” Auxwald said. His voice was low and calm, his round head tilted curiously, like he was genuinely interested in my reply. He sounded out of breath, and I could see his chest heaving from his swim. Heated by his body, water steamed into the cool air like a subtle halo around his head. 

I stammered. “Sorry, man, I was just… going for a walk. Thought someone forgot this.” It took every ounce of my willpower not to look down and check out his dick. 

“Well, consider it remembered.” Auxwald peered at me. “Have I seen you before?”

My stomach was churning. “I–”

“At the pool, earlier today,” he said. “You’re friends with that foxy little fox who came on to me while I was having a drink. You're the drummer in a band, the Try-Outs?”

“Yah, err, the Try-Hards.” I was surprised he’d actually been paying attention to Shredder at all.

“Did you follow me down here?” he asked suddenly.

I raised my hands in defense. “No, no way! Swear I’m just here for a smoke.”

“And your friend didn’t send you or something?”

“No.”

Auxwald squatted to pick up his towel. He didn’t cover himself up, simply toweling off his head and shoulders. I couldn’t help myself, I stared at the movement, feeling the urge to reach out and help him.

“So your show went well?” he said.

“Yah, we killed it. You should’ve been there!” The casual phrase had a needy whine to it. I wanted to throw myself into the ocean. 

“Maybe tomorrow.” Auxwald stretched out his neck and rubbed down his torso and chest. His pecs were huge and round, almost feminine, and his nipples were large and erect in the chilly air. “I had work to do tonight.” He sighed, picking up his clothes. “But, the rest of my evening is free.”

I blinked and laughed anxiously. “I think it’s, like, 2 am.”

“The night is young,” was all he said.

“Is that safe?” I blurted, and when he looked at me curiously, I just pointed at the water. He turned to follow my gaze.

“Nightswimming. Alone?” I went on.

“I’m a seal. I grew up on the ocean, doing this kind of thing every night. Don’t worry about me, bud.”

“Well,” I sputtered, trying to keep him engaged. “Did you have a good swim, then?”

“It was excellent.” The seal tossed his towel over a meaty shoulder. “Not too calm nor too rough, more than enough moonlight to see any rogue waves, and nice and cold. Though I’m ready to get warm now,” he added. I felt myself blush at this innocuous statement. How was he having this effect on me? I felt something between my legs start to stiffen

I watched Auxwald pick up his bag, hefty muscles bunching in his thighs, monstrous calves working hard to support his weight. 

He must have caught me looking, because suddenly he said, “care to join me at the hot tub?”

I laughed nervously, and when I saw his expression was unchanged, I said, “pretty sure it’s closed now. We’d have to jump the fence.”

“Nah, I’ve got a card.” Auxwald flashed me his roomkey and smiled. 

“But it won’t work after–”

“Come on, it’s getting chilly out here.” Auxwald’s voice was firm, and as he strode away through the dunes, still totally undressed, I followed him like an obedient kid.

#gay male seal kangaroo ocean seaside romance serial

[thebatfamfanatic]

Six Times He Met Her

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, guy taking advantage of a minor in first chap, mention of underage smut in fourth chap, making out?, violence, mentions of blood/injury, main character death, adult language, angst

A/N: First thing I’ve written on Tumblr!! Tell me if anybody likes it, or if I broke your heart. And yes, I know I’m evil.

1-

The first time he saw you was around 2:30 in the morning. Jason was squatting on the edge of a rooftop in Gotham, surveying the dark scenery below him.

Somehow, there was still plenty of traffic on the dirty streets, plenty of cars honking and driving around. Jason always wondered who the fuck needed to be somewhere at 2 am.

He fiddled with a loose seam on the Robin uniform he sported each night, hunting down the assholes of Gotham (pretty much 70% of the city) and putting them in jail, where they belonged.

At 16, Jason Todd technically should have been in bed, maintaining a healthy sleep schedule and doing some rich kid shit during the day. Of course, his adoptive (long story) father, Bruce Wayne, richest playboy in Gotham, employed him to be his little tweety bird sidekick at night, so here he was, at the rendezvous watching the streets. yay. A scream came from an alley nearby. Jason stood, stretched his legs, and leaped down from the roof onto the ground. He pinpointed the alleyway where the noise was coming from and raced into it. A girl, about his age, had been cornered by some bitch dude who thought he could take advantage of this girl. Not on Robin’s watch.

Before the girl could scream again, the guy was on the ground and Jason was helping her up. She shakily took the hand he offered her and looked him in the eye. Shit, she had gorgeous eyes. Jason froze for a second, lost in her beauty, before clearing in his throat.

“Hi. I’m Robin, uh, you probably knew that. Are you okay, ma’am?”

He hated the squeak that came out of his mouth. He sounded like a fucking 5 year old. The girl raised her eyebrow. She had recovered rather quickly. “You don’t have to call me ma’am. I’m not some rich-ass royal whatever from Britain.” Jason liked this one. Sassy, but just so. He inquired where she lived, and she gave him the address. With his grappling hook at the ready, Jason pulled her closer to him. She jumped at the sudden closeness, but seemed to enjoy it. Maybe? He didn’t know shit about girls.

Jason shot the hook, propelling them up in the air, and landed on a rooftop. They continued this routine until he got in front of her house. It was still several seconds before he released her waist.

She started to walk towards her door, before stopping.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Sorry, what?” Jason blinked.

“I thought you were smart, Robin. Its my name, dumb ass.”

Then Y/N disappeared into her house. Jason stood there foolishly outside on her front lawn for a while, thinking about the girl he had just met. She was unlike anyone he had ever met, and he realized 10 minutes later that he had forgotten to ask about where her family was and everything.

Oh well. Bruce would be expecting him anyways. Jason shot his grappling hook and started home, still dazed from the encounter.

2-

The second time you guys met was two weeks later. Jason was just Jason Todd, a normal 10th grader living in the shadow of his (adopted) older brother Dick Grayson. Nobody paid much attention to him, and he didn’t really mind. Mostly Jason focused on getting A’s in class and then retreating into the library until Golden Boy’s after school clubs were over.

That is, until you walked in. It sounded as if you had just moved here, and for a minute, Jason felt a little sorry for you. I mean, Gotham wasn’t the greatest place to spend high school, or any grade, in his opinion.

You looked at your schedule from across the hall and then up at the locker next to him. For a second, your eyes met his and Jason was content. Lost in those brilliant colors. And then you looked away and started walking towards him. He realized just in time maybe he should stop leaning over your locker as you stopped next to him.

“Hi. Y/N. Just moved here. Looks like we’re locker neighbors.”

Jason was about to reply with “I know” but restrained himself. “Jason. Nice to meet you. Congrats on moving to this shitshow.”

He managed to not grin like an idiot as you laughed. The sound was music to his ears, like beautiful bells. God, he was being sappy.

“It’s not much of a shitshow when you’re here.” Ooh, she flirts too. Jason smirked as you opened your locker and dumped your stuff inside, pulling out the things you needed for your first class.

The first bell shrieked just as you closed your locker. “See you around, Jason.”

The small smile you gave him made his day, and he almost forgot to get to class. Yes, you were certainly one of a kind, and yes, Jason wanted you. The question was how to get to that point.

3-

You guys had a couple classes together, and frequently sat at the same table during lunch, so it wasn’t long before you were quick friends with Jason. However, the next notable time you met was a little while after he got your number.

Jason was laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly through Tumblr as he thought about ways to ask you out.

Y/N, would you grant me the honor of going out with me? No, too Romeo and Juliet.

Hey, want to grab ice cream? He had to make it clear what his intentions were. Then it wouldn’t be weird if he kissed you, right?

Oh, god, if he fucking kissed you….what would that be like? Before Jason could start fantasizing, his fingers were flying across the keyboard and he had sent a text to you. What did he do, what did he-

Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to see that new movie this weekend. It seems like something you would enjoy.

Hm. That was actually pretty good. Where did he come up with that?

Jason had just started inspecting his fingers for some kind of sign of being possessed by smooth-with-girls-syndrome when you responded. He looked up and read it quickly.

Sure, I’d love that! Thanks for thinking of me ❤️

A heart. You had put a heart at the end of it. Did that mean you knew it was a date?

Jason sighed. He certainly hoped so.

4-

The weekend date went good. By the end of it, Jason was sure you knew it was a date. The second one passed, and then the third. The third one was when you hesitantly pecked him on the cheek. The fourth was when he kissed you actually. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was just enough for him to take you on a fourth date. An actual “will you go out with me on a date” kind of thing.

He took you to a restaurant in the fancy part of things. You two ate food that two broke 16 year olds technically shouldn’t have been able to afford, but Bruce helped Jason out.

Jason drove you home afterwards and discussed the topic of the upcoming summer during the car ride. What you were doing, where he was going. The entire time, Jason had butterflies in his stomach. He wasn’t sure how to act. Was he messing it all up, or were you actually into him?

Once he parked in front of your house and walked you up to the stoop, you looked at him. He noticed you were biting your lip nervously, and god, why did he think that was so hot? “My parents aren’t home.” It was the softest Jason had ever heard you speak, but he knew what you meant. He smiled gently, and kissed you again. This one was destined to last longer, and before either of you realized it, you had opened your door and you were leading him to your bedroom.

That night was one neither of you would forget, and by the end of it, Jason had officially asked out successfully.

5-

You and Jason spent a lot of time together after that. You met his older brother, Dick (who was very happy for Jason, too happy in his opinion) and his dad, Bruce Wayne. Bruce was cool, but very busy all the time.

By two months, Jason still hadn’t told you his identity as Robin, and he was running out of excuses. One day, you confronted him, assuming he was cheating on you. He tried everything, but he had to go out on patrol.

Jason left that night assuming you were broken up. The entire patrol, he wasn’t himself. Truth was, he loved you so much he was afraid of losing you. That had become his greatest fear. It was that night everything went wrong.

6-

You were out taking a late night walk. Down by the pier, a cold wind was blowing, and as you walked past warehouse after warehouse, you pulled your coat tighter.

You were affected as well, and confused about where you and your boyfriend stood. Did you guys just breakup? Did he love you? Did–

A scream echoed from one of the warehouses. You turned, afraid of stepping closer but afraid of leaving the person. Eventually, your curiosity won over and you climbed up several crates to peer into the window.

What you saw inside almost made you scream yourself. Robin, the hero everybody talked about, lay defenseless and bloody on the ground as a tall man-the Joker- whacked him over and over again with a crowbar.

You gasped, wanting to help, but you knew that would be foolish. You would just get in the way for a minute. Tears started to form in your eyes as Robin weakly cried out from the pain. He looked so…helpless.

Joker relentlessly beat him with the crowbar, and Robin’s mask began to come off. You rubbed the tears from your eyes just as the mask fell to the ground.

“No.” was the only thing that you could muster. Jason lay on the ground in the bloody Robin suit. Jason fucking Todd. There was your boyfriend, being beaten to death by the asshole of all assholes. That was why he kept disappearing at night, because he fucking protected the city!

You were mad at yourself for being so cruel to Jason without knowing what was really going on. You barely paid attention as Batman and Nightwing suddenly burst through the windows.

Joker laughed, and said something you couldn’t hear from the outside. Probably taunting Batman as he watched his apprentice get beat to death.

A fight broke out, Batman lunging at Joker as Nightwing rushed to Jason, laying broken on the ground. You had just enough time to duck as a Batarang came swooping out of the hands of the Caped Crusader and straight through the window you were looking through.

It was then you realized how close Jason was to death, and what you needed to do. The window pricked your jacket as you jumped through it, but you didn’t care. Gymnastics back in 6th grade helped when you landed awkwardly. Nightwing spun around, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that was Dick, which meant Bruce was Batman.

However, none of that mattered when Jason was half dead in front of you. Nightwing- Dick- made no effort to stop you as you knelt in front of Jason. “No, no, no.” You cradled his head in your hands, trying hard not to recognize how limp his body was, and how his chest barely moved as he struggled to breathe.

Jason’s eyes were closed, tears running down his face silently. You were crying as well, mumbling curses and things that made no sense.

“Please, don’t be dead. Please, I-I love you.”

You watched Jason make no acknowledgement he could hear you, watched him breathe once more. His chest rose and never fell.

You screamed and buried your head in his costume, not caring about getting blood on your face. Dick pulled you away wordlessly, out of the warehouse. You barely registered that the warehouse exploded behind you a few seconds later.

Dick let you sob into his shoulder for what seemed like hours. Him and Bruce exchanged a short conversation, both riddled with grief.

Six times you and Jason had met, and that was the last.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd angst #jason todd smut #jason todd fluff #dc comics #robin!jason

[honeybunnybeez]

If you want to you could write some C! Dream being soft around reader?

Secluded Cabin's and Gentle Touches

♡Pairing: Dream x GN!Reader (with hints of platonic!GN!reader x Tommy and Tubbo)

♡Genre: Fluff

♡Format: Fanfiction

♡Summary: It's not uncommon for Tommy and Tubbo to bring people over to your place so you can help calm them down after a prank, but today they seemed to drag by a familiar face that you have yet to properly spend time with. Lucky for you, he seems to be longing to talk to you as well.

♡Au Setting: Au where the war never happens but tensions are still high.

"Get back here!"

Despite the voice ordering them to stop, Tommy and Tubbo continued to run like their lives depended on it, and to be fair, it kinda did in this situation. Wet hands stained in different coloured dyes served as proof of their crimes and a green hooded man wearing an awfully smudged looking mask makes it clear who their latest prank victim was.

"What were we fucking thinking!?" but a laugh at the end of his yelling as he dodges Dream's outstretched hand makes it clear that Tommy doesn't regret his life choices at all.

"I don't know!" Tubbo on the otherhand, was starting to regret his involvement in the prank. His legs were starting to ache and his chest began to burn as he slowly became exhausted. A wild chase like this isn't exactly new to them but Dream's persistence really makes it hard for a person to catch a breather between runs. "Tommy, where are we even going!?"

Tommy opened his mouth to respond but a trail of scattered lanterns and torches answers Tubbo's question for him. Tubbo lets out a knowing, "ooooh!" And uses whatever remaining energy he can to keep up with Tommy, knowing exactly what his friend had in mind.

In the distance, they can see you sitting on your porch, playing with a parrot you had managed to tame while out searching for cocoa beans. Relief washes over them when you lock eyes with them and start jogging over with your bird in tow, a worried expression evident on your face.

They're quick to hide behind you when they get close enough, clutching the back of your shirt while trying to catch their breaths to answer your questions as to who they were running from this time and why.

"Dream-" is all Tommy can manage to wheeze out before he's coughing up a lung and swearing again.

"Ah," honestly, after knowing the pair for a good few years now, just mentioning a name gives you a pretty good idea of the type of prank they pulled and the danger they could be in. Thankfully, Dream wasn't a major threat, to you at least.

"Alright, alright, go hide in the house quickly and don't come out until I tell you guys to. If I die, make sure to take care of the farm animals and bees for me."

"Bless you, (y/n)."

"Your sacrifices won't be in vain, we promise!"

You give them a joking salute and urge them to go inside quickly, informing them that you can hear Dream approaching closer. Once the boys were safely inside, you tried your best to look as natural as possible with the limited time you had to adjust yourself. When Dream arrives, you can see that he's just as tired as the boys are thanks to the chase, though his stance continues to be tense as he frantically looks around for them, fists clenched tight until his knuckles turned ghost white.

"Fuck, where did they run off to?"

"Not gonna give a stranger a kind hello after walking onto their lawn with murderous intent?" You and Dream weren't really strangers per say, you had to meet up with him when you moved into the server after all, but due to conflicting schedules and how often Tommy and Tubbo dragged you away whenever he tried to make conversation, you two didn't know each other all that well. That doesn't mean that you didn't want to try though.

When Dream realizes where he was and who he was talking, he's quick to adjust his mask and hoodie to make himself look somewhat... presentable, as presentable as he can look with sweat marks and a messed up mask at least.

'Why did those two have to run up to your house out of all places,' Dream mentally whines to himself, clearing his throat and giving you a single awkward wave as he walks up to you.

"Hey, (y/n). I didn't know you lived in this part of the server," that was a lie. Dream did know where you live, he knew where everyone did but it would be a little creepy to just put that information out there, wouldn't it?

"It'd be a little weird if I just started screaming out my address to random people on the streets, wouldn't it?" You try to joke, earning a little laugh from Dream.

"Okay, yeah, you got me there."

You pat an empty spot beside you on your porch step, inviting Dream over for a bit of rest and he accepts your offer gratefully, practically slumping beside you as he suddenly feels just how tired he is.

"Love the new look you gave your mask by the way," Dream groans at your teasing and pulls at his hoodie strings, hoping to cover his whole mask with his hood. He's glad you can't see his face right now because he can feel his cheeks practically burning at the fact that when he finally gets a chance to talk and get close to you it's when he's a sweating tired mess who looks like a wreck at best.

"I'm going to kill those two when I find them," he mumbles under his breath.

The slam that follows within your home could not have been more terribly timed.

"What was that?"

"Must be my wolves," you lied through your teeth, knowing damn well that your actual wolves were sleeping in your bedroom, "they learned how to open doors recently, I think they're messing around at the moment."

While he's distracted, staring at your window to check what's going on inside of your home, you're quick to read through your most recent private messages on your communicator.

Tommy: HE'S HERE!

Tommy: (Y/N), WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING HIM TO FUCK OFF!?

Tommy: Fuck this, we're hiding in the kitchen.

Tubbo: We're making a run for it through the back.

Tommy: We'll hide in your barn like runaway children.

Tubbo: Isn't that what we technically are right now?

Tommy: (y/n), we're making a fucking run for it if you don't answer us in 3 seconds.

Tommy: 3!

Tommy: 2!

Tubbo: We'RE OUT! I REPEAT, WE'RE OUT!

"Yup," you pop your P a little at the end, annoyed yet amused at the string of frantic messages still continuing to pop up on your communicator as they make their escape, "definitely my wolves causing all of that chaos."

Dream knows that you're lying from the way you read through your messages but he doesn't say a word about it, choosing instead to take this golden opportunity to get closer to you without worrying about anyone getting in the way.

"Not really how you thought the day would go, huh?"

You can't help but laugh and shake your head, "Not at all, I thought it was just going to be another boring day with my bird, but hey, I'm glad you showed up to make it a little more special."

"Really?" Dream hates how happy he sounds to hear you say that, but he'll beat himself up over it another time.

"It's not everyday you see Mr. WasTaken himself visiting your humble home, now is it?" Oh, or maybe he won't.

"I guess not, that really should change, shouldn't it?" You can hear the little grin in his voice as he realizes the game your playing.

"It really should, but a quick heads up would be good, unless you'd like to deal with said 'wolves' I mentioned earlier."

He chuckles and shakes his head, mentioning how he's more than aware that those two 'wolves' of yours would probably rip him apart if he ever visited you unannounced.

It isn't long before you invite Dream inside, offering to help clean his mask as an apology on the boys's behalf. He claims that he doesn't mind but he would rather not take his mask off in front of you when he hasn't gotten to know you all that well.

"You don't have to remove it if you feel uncomfortable, I'll just wipe away whatever I can with a cloth, but if you're still hesitant, I'd understand."

He takes a moment to consider your offer, trying to see if you have any other ulterior motives. It's not that he doesn't want to trust you, he does, but sometimes you just have to be a little extra cautious even with people you like. Sensing no ill intent on your part though, he relaxes himself once more and accepts your help, letting his hood finally loosen and fall back to ease your process.

Your actions are incredibly comforting to Dream who can't help himself from leaning into your touches every once in a while. He watches you with his fullest attention as you wipe away the mess on his mask with a damp cloth. He loves how focused you look while doing so, taking in every little quirk you may have while you concentrate. His little crush on you that he's harboured ever since he saw you running around the server can't help but grow every second you give him your attention.

There's a certain draw to you that Dream can't fight off no matter how hard he tries, you just manage to hold a certain power over him and that was evident by the fact that he completely lost interest in continuing his hunt for Tommy and Tubbo even after finding out that they were still most likely on your property. Dream was a persistent man, he was never one to simply drop something with no proper reason at all. There was just this appeal to you that he couldn't describe and he was desperate to find out what it was about you that made him act differently than he normally would.

"Okay then, that's the last of it," he has to stop himself from letting out a whine when you pull your hands away from his mask, he wants to say something to try to get you to continue on longer but decides against it, not wanting to seem desperate. His eyes don't leave you even after you pull away, watching you rinse off the dirty cloth before throwing it into what seemed to be a bin filled with laundry. When you return to sit by his side, he can't help but swallow a bit of his pride to rest his head on your shoulder. It's a big risk to take, but at least he has an excuse for his actions if he ever needs it.

"Tired, Dream?"

"Mhmm," he feels himself melt when you let your fingers run through his slightly sweat damp hair, clearly unphased by the state of it much, to his joy.

"You wanna rest here for a while? I'm sure you could get a good nap in before leaving."

"That depends, can I still use you as my pillow?"

"Not like I have anything else to do for the rest of the day, knock yourself out."

"Then if you'll excuse me," his head is quick to leave your shoulder to instead rest in your lap and the blissful sigh he lets out escapes his lips before he can even stop himself. You just feel so comfortable to him. "I'm gonna drift off, wake me up in an hour or so, will you?"

You let out a hum in response and it isn't long before you start to see Dream's body go slack, his breathing now steady and deep as he slowly falls asleep. It's quite endearing seeing Dream act so affectionately towards you, something you certainly didn't expect from a guy who carries himself with a subtle wave of authority, but you definitely weren't complaining as you continued to play with his hair once again.

Dream would never tell a single soul about it, but this was quiet possible the best sleep he's gotten in years, if he even tried to sleep at all to begin with. The thought to just slow down and relax is never really on his mind, his head always spinning with things he has to do. However, with you, he's glad to know that he can look to you for comfort from now on, something he now realizes is rather hard to find on the server. It pains him to know that he'll have to leave in just a few moments but for now, he'll take what he can get from you and maybe, if you let him, he'll be sure to return your sweet gestures tenfold one day.

A/N: Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for being absent recently, I know the writer's block excuse can only go so far but- yeah ^^' I'm so sorry again for everything and I'm sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for anon! Thank you so much for the rquest and feel free to request it again if you want me to remake this to hopefully suit what you wanted. Anyways, I hope you all have a good day and thank you so much for reading!

(Requests are open and anon is on!)

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp x reader #dream smp imagine #dream x reader

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

Magolor (003) for the ask?

catboy hourrr

003 | Give me a character & I will tell you:

How I feel about this character:

he's cute! when i first played rtdl i liked how he talked, he was just a fun guy. as it is now, i dont think super indepth on his character or anything which is wild cause. being in this fandom for such a long time i thought i would? he gets a ridiculous amount of canon content compared to others, and since hes so popular, its impossible not to see all the thoughts about him, but i honestly dont feel much about him at all. so sorry for the rest of these questions dfkjdg. hes really fun to draw though

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character:

slightly invested in magoranza. mago has a soft spot for taranza 🤗 the relationship only works if there’s susie to act as a mediator for the two though. thats in a bit more detail at the bottom of this post

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

marxxxxxxxxxxx prankster buddies lets go. they said lets team up to make everyones lives harder xoxoxo bestiessss

My unpopular opinion about this character:

looks like hyness under the ho--*shot*

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

rtdl was damn good, i didnt feel much like i wanted more out of him like i did with taranza. i guess it sucked that it was left ambiguous what happened to him after the fight because i hate being left on a cliffhanger in that way, buuut viewing this from the future everythings great. if they did this with forgotten land however and i had to wait years to see what happened to a character i liked i would go apeshit

Favorite friendship for this character:

wave three friend group! also talked about this some time ago in a dif askgame but magolor, taranza, and susie all balance each other out and keep each other in check. susie keeps magolor from taking advantage of taranza, taranza keeps susie and magolor from fighting in general, and magolor and taranza keep susie from being awful about mechanizing. they all solve their problems together 💖

My crossover ship: FREE SPACE

i want magolor to be weirder. unbashfully weirder. i want him to have a collection of a super niche thing that he keeps religiously clean. i want him to be the guy that picks and eats flowers off the lawn right in front of you. i want him to be the guy that will unironically try to argue with you that birds arent real. he deserves to be a little unhinged

#kirby #magolor #asks #dameta-facts #dgp askgame #yooo ty to everyone whos sent in an ask btw i super appreciate them

[justkending]

The Number One Rule. Chapter 18.

Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)

Word Count: 3100+

Chapter Eighteen:

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Steve chuckled, bringing his mug to his lips as his sister walked in with a sleep ridden face. She gave him the silent bird before moving to the coffee pot. “I see your morning self hasn’t changed.”

“What are you still doing here? I thought you would have left for work by now?” Y/N asked with a tired voice as she walked to the fridge for creamer. 

He had ended up staying the night and sleeping in his old room that had been transferred into the guest bed. Him and his sister had been up late talking and catching up. 

“Eh, I’m going in a few hours later since I’ve been doing overtime recently,” Steve shrugged, leaning back and watching her sit across from him. She was wearing a giant T-shirt and some old pajama pants that she tiredly tried to straighten from their disheveled state. “What’s your excuse for not being ready for work?”

“I don’t have to be there until 9 today,” she answered with her eyes closed. 

There was a comfortable silence as the two sipped on their coffee and Steve read the newspaper. Looking over he saw her practically falling back asleep in her seat. 

“I guess I need to talk to Bucky soon…” He spoke up. Her eyes opened at that and she turned to him. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean now that I know the case, and now that I know you’re both happy, I don’t have a right to be a jackass anymore I guess,” he shrugged with a smirk. 

“I’m glad you came to terms that you were a jackass,” she chuckled, punching his arm playfully. “We’ve been waiting a few years on that one.”

“Hey, I can call myself a jackass, but you watch yourself,” he warned in a light manner. 

“Sure thing… Jackass,” she mumbled with a smile. Before he could start an argument, she diverted the conversation. “So, should I warn him, or-?”

“I don’t care. We have different shifts today, so I’ll see him tonight probably and talk to him.”

“Ok, then I’ll let you do the talking. I would warn him yourself though. He’s been a nervous wreck around this topic with you. Anytime he thinks about how we’ve hurt you, he gets upset and really anxious,” she explained more seriously. 

“I mean, I don’t blame him. This was a shitty kind of situation to go through, but mom was right. Neither side of the problem was handled well,” Steve sighed. “I’ll text him before.”

“Good,” Y/N nodded. “Want me to come?”

“No, I think we need to talk ourselves,” Steve sighed. “If you know what I mean.”

“I get it,” she nodded standing and grabbing her mug. “Well, I’m going to get ready for work. Mind if I come over tonight though? You know, when the coast is clear? Maybe we can all have a movie night like back in the day! Becca and Sam are invited too,” she pointed to him. 

“Sounds like a plan. You’re paying for pizza though. Since you have an adult job now, it’s only fair,” Steve said with raised eyebrows. 

“Hey, I-”

“You owe me,” he cut her off. 

She glared at him for using the given past situation as a way to get free food. 

“That’s low, big bro,” she deadpanned. 

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same thing,” he scoffed with a smile, going back to the paper in front of him. 

“Touche,” she nodded with a pursed lip. “At least text me when I can head over, so I don’t interrupt you guys' bromance session.”

“Shut up,” he groaned as she left the room. 

________

Once Y/N got to work, a few hours into her shift, she got a call from Bucky.

“Hey, B,” she smiled through the phone as she went through the loads of papers in her hands. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Bucky replied just as sweetly. “Guess who texted me today?”

“Hmm, Barack Obama?” Y/N responded. “Wait, no! Michelle Obama.”

“Haha, very close, but no,” he chuckled. “You’re brother reached out.”

“Is that so?” Y/N faked surprise.

“I’m guessing you guys' conversation last night went well considering your chipper mood?” he questioned. “Or they went horribly wrong and you’re just a really good actress.”

“We all know I can’t act even if my life depended on it,” she laughed, changing the phone to her other ear as she wrote some notes on a paper. 

“It’s true. You’re a horrible liar,” Bucky confirmed.

“I’m not even going to argue it no matter how much I want to,” she shrugged. “But I would say things went well. I mean we may or may not have gotten into a wrestling match on the front lawn, and mom might as well have dragged us by the ears inside to have a civil conversation, but besides that…”

“Oh God, Y/N… What the hell happened?” 

She just knew he was pitching the bridge of his nose on the other end. 

“Nothing too crazy. It’s just sibling fighting,” she waved off. 

“At least tell me you gave him a chance. You didn’t beat his ass too much, hopefully. You know we’re trying to win him over, not push him further away, right?” Bucky had a smile in his voice, clearly just joking around. 

“You know? Kids’ gotten stronger since middle school,” she noted. 

“I would hope so. He fought in a war and chases bad guys for a living. Can’t have scrawny middle school Steve doing that kind of stuff. He’d get a nose bleed just looking at the wrong guy.”

The two laughed for a little reminiscing at little Steve before he bulked up in high school. But after some joking, Bucky brought the conversation back where he started. 

“But in all honesty, I shouldn’t be too worried about tonight?” he asked. The nerves in his voice were clear to Y/N. 

“No, Bumble Bee. We talked it out, screamed it out, and fought it out. And in doing so, we had a good conversation. Thank Sarah Rogers for keeping us on track and not letting us walk away until it was resolved,” she assured, putting his mind at rest. 

“Ok, good…” Bucky sighed on the other end. A moment of silence went by as if he was trying to process it. 

“Hey, I know you guys still need to talk, but I do want you to know that it’ll be all ok in the end. Don’t get too worked up about it,” Y/N said softly. “26 years of being best pals can’t be ruined by this little bump. You said it yourself.”

Bucky let out a breath and nodded. “You’re right. It… It’s just, I hate that he found out how he did, and…” he paused. “It just kinda sucked seeing him that upset.”

“I get it,” Y/N nodded on her end. “But hey,” she added. “We’ll all be ok. Truly.”

“I trust you, doll,” he grinned. There was some distant talking on the phone and Bucky humming. “Hey, I have to go. Boss needs me for something. Call you later?” 

“For sure. Have a good day, and let me know if you need anything!” 

“Right back at you. Love you, sweetheart,” he slipped out the last part unconsciously. 

There was a moment of silence as the two were stunned. Neither had said the “L” word yet… At least not to each other…

“Uh,” Bucky stuttered out. “I-I-...”

“Buck-,” Y/N started in just as much shock. 

Another round of someone shouting on the other line that wasn’t Bucky came through through the phone. 

“I have to go! Talk to you later,” Bucky shouted into the phone. 

Before she could say anything else, the line ended and she slowly pulled back the phone seeing her lock screen blank. No words came out after that. 

She just stared at the screen where a picture of her Bucky, Becca, and Steve all were embedded in a bear hug together. An old picture, but one that she always loved and cherished with a group of her favorite humans. 

She also loved it because even though it was before Bucky and her had become an item, they were squished against each other. Bucky was smiling wide and caught in a laugh as he looked down at her, catching her from stumbling to the ground, and she was laughing as she gripped his arm to find her balance. Steve and Becca laughing on the side at her clumsy self, and the fact someone was always having to help her stay on two feet. Bucky having always been one of those top people in her life. 

She smiled down at the memory and couldn’t help but feel those little flutters move from her stomach to her chest and eventually make her cheeks heat up. 

_________________

Now he had two things to freak out about. One being Steve and his talk tonight. Yes, he knew he didn’t really need to after Y/N’s reassurance that things would be fine, but still. It was a strange conversation to have with your best friend. 

“Sorry I fell in love with your sister and hid it from you. My best friend of over a quarter of a decade. Not to mention you found out from me coming out of her room half naked after you thought she was home alone...” 

Yeah, that was going to be weird no matter how ok they were now… 

Then you add in, he just casually told Y/N that he loved her before hanging up the phone. He didn’t mean to. It just felt so natural in the moment! 

He wanted to make the first time he said it special, not just by accident…

God, his heart was racing and now he had four hours left of his work day to let those things just stir around in his head. Great. Maybe that 3rd cup of coffee wasn’t that great of an idea.

_______________

“So, everything’s good with you guys?” Sam asked after Steve let him in on everything.

“Yeah. I mean Buck and I still need to talk it out, but… I don’t know. I can’t be mad if they’re both happy at the end of the day. Happiest I’ve seen either of them in a while, if I’m being honest,” Steve shrugged with a small smile. 

“See, I knew that’d be the case at the end of the day. I tried telling Bucky that,” Sam shook his head as he finished up the dishes. “And sorry man about not saying anything. I didn’t think it was my place to,” he apologized. 

“No, I get it. This was their own thing. You were just being a good friend to Bucky and letting him figure this out himself,” Steve waved. 

“He’ll be home in a little. You worried?” Sam asked, washing his hands off. 

“No, if anyone’s nervous it’ll be Bucky. Y/N and I had a really good talk last night. No matter how upset I was before, I now know where they were coming from,” Steve sighed. “Did I agree with it? No, but we all have different ways we would go about things.”

“True facts,” Sam smiled. “Well, I’ll hoard myself in my room for a while until the coast is clear. Let me know if you guys need anything, ok?” 

“Got it. Oh, and Y/N said she was going to come over after with pizza for a movie night, if you want to join,” Steve pointed out moving to the couch. 

“I’m here for it,” Sam nodded, going down the hall to his room. “Call me when all is resolved.”

Steve nodded and plopped down on the couch skimming through the channels as he waited for Bucky. About 15 minutes later, he heard the lock turn and quietly the brunette made his way in with caution. 

“Hey,” Steve said softly, turning from the end of the couch. 

“Hey,” Bucky said with a soft smile as he put his things by the door. 

These were the first words they had spoken in over 2 weeks. They hadn’t talked since the whole fight in the backyard.

“How was work?” Steve asked, making small talk. 

“Nothing too crazy today,” Bucky shrugged, walking to the back of the couch with his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Lillian asked about you again.” 

“From accounting?” Steve asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Only Lillian I know that’s obsessed with you,” Bucky laughed lightly. 

“God, I’m not ready for that…” Steve returned the chuckle. 

It got quiet after that. Not awkward, but not comfortable either. 

“So…” 

“Listen, Bucky,” Steve sitting back in his chair running a hand across his face. “I’m sorry, I punched you after-”

“Don’t be. I deserved it,” Bucky waved him off, coming around the couch slowly to sit on the opposite end. 

“Ok, yeah. You’re right,” Steve nodded with another small laugh. Again another pregnant pause. “I gotta know. Why didn’t you just tell me, Buck?”

He took in a deep breath before answering. “I’m sure Y/N told you, but we didn’t want things to have a bad falling out and it be awkward for everyone else-.”

“No, not that. Why didn’t you tell me that you weren’t going to do it from the start?” Steve interrupted.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Y/N said that you guys went back and forth on not going through with this because you didn’t want to hurt me. I mean, maybe that’s not that big of a deal, but it changes things on my end some,” Steve explained. Bucky just sent him a blank stare. “What I mean is, when I first figured everything out, I was hurt because I thought you didn’t even consider me in your decisions. I know, it sounds selfish, but-”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re a part of the equation to some extent. Just like Becca is. But surprisingly Becca was excited and not freaked out about her best friend dating her big brother. It’s a little different being the big brother in the situation though,” he said softly. “It’s not selfish though Steve. If the roles were reversed and say you and Becca dated, I would hope you considered my feelings in the matter too.”

Steve was glad that he understood what he was getting at. He was worried it wouldn’t make sense or make him look like he thought the whole thing revolved around him. 

“Yeah…” Steve paused. “But you didn’t say anything about that when we did get in that fight. Why?”

“I don’t know… I guess I just wanted you to understand my feelings for her more than anything. I needed you to know that she wasn’t just some girl I was hoping to hook up with at some point.”

“I know you would never do that Buck. No matter how upset I was, I still don’t think that low of you,” Steve sighed. “And about that… I’m sorry I said you don’t deserve her… That was an extremely hard hit to the gut.”

“You were looking out for her,” Bucky said with pursed lips, but the pain from the past comment was clear. It didn’t feel good having your best friend who's been through thick and thin with you tell you weren’t worth something. 

“Yes, but that was a low blow and I said it out of hurt feelings. I was hurt, so I wanted you to be just as hurt. That wasn’t fair,” Steve concluded. “If there is anyone in this world that I trust to take care of Y/N just as much as me, it’s you Buck. I was just blinded by anger.”

“Understandably,” Bucky nodded, looking back at his friend a little less troubled. 

“Understandably,” Steve agreed. They stared at each other silently communicating. “I’m sorry.”

“If anyone is sorry, it’s me Steve,” Bucky shook his head running a hand down his thigh still slightly anxious. 

“How about we both agree that we didn’t handle this situation the best way,” Steve smiled. “I should have seen how happy you two were and not second guess how it happened. I shouldn’t have made it about me when you both clearly are what the other needs.”

“Steve-”

“Truly. You guys have been glowing the last two months with complete and utter happiness and I was so oblivious to pick up on it. I feel like a shitty brother and best friend.”

“You’re not a shitty brother or best friend. Not in the least,” Bucky said scooting to the edge of the couch. “You know that.”

“Y/N tell you we got in a fight on the lawn yesterday?” Steve asked with a small smirk. 

Bucky chuckled. “Yes. Said your mom about beat your asses out there too.”

“All because I was too stubborn to talk it out,” Steve shook his head while he threw it back on the back of the couch. 

“Eh, you said it yourself. We all didn’t handle this situation well,” Bucky chuckled. “She kicked your ass, didn’t she?” he said after a second. 

“Wouldn’t say that, but she must have worked out over seas because I couldn’t pin her like I used to. She was giving me a pretty decent fight,” Steve laughed loudly. 

“God, I would pay money to have someone get that on tape,” Bucky laughed with him. 

The two soaking up the now comfortable atmosphere. 

“So we’re ok, right?” Steve asked. “Leave all out petty, stubborn, and stupid mistakes in the past?”

“I’m fine with that if you are,” Bucky nodded. 

“Good. I’ve missed having my best friend around. I was getting tired of ignoring you,” Steve sighed, patting Bucky’s back. 

“You gave me good practice with your stubbornness for Y/N. Not that I haven’t been practicing with you both my whole life, but damn you guys are too bull-headed monsters.”

“We feed off each other's energy,” Steve shrugged with a smirk. 

“I know, it’s exhausting, yet entertaining all at the same time,” Bucky smiled as he moved his head side to side. 

A knock sounded at the door and they both turned toward the wooden panel. 

“Speaking of the devil,” Steve smiled standing up.

Bucky froze. 

Shit. One anxiety had been cured now, but he had almost forgotten about his second one...

(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)

I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.

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[rare-yanderes]

(F/H) =favorite hobby.

I have the weirdest crush on this freaking duck and I don’t know why, so I’m taking out my confusion on this matter by making him yandere. Sorry that this is so long, boring and slow but I’m a sucker for slow burns and just dislike instant love. This went from just from headcannons to a freaking long ass story. I think I’ll make more on how the reader reacts when they find out just how mentally fucked Scrooge became.

Who knows, maybe I’ll write one for good ol’ Flinty. I have a feeling he’d just drop kick any rival he spots without much qualms about it. Meanwhile, Scrooge has a full on psychological derailment.

TW: manipulation, dependent behavior, stalking, and more.

______________

•To be honest, the likelyhood of Scrooge turning into a yandere might be higher than you think. He’s capable of self defense and can fight. He literally hunts treasure for a living. He also has a trillion dollar stockpile sitting around begging to be used for cover ups. His determination is pretty crazy, and he’s seen a lot on his adventures, things that would kind of instill a paranoia over time or an unhealthy me mentality. He can easily hide behind a professional front. Oh, and if he so wanted, he could travel and bury any evidence under a volcano. :)

•Since this is a yandere AU or, I’m gonna go with the idea that this is a what if the show had a TV-14 rating as well, so much darker themes can link and be explored.

•After pretty much a century of adventure, most of which includes violence and fighting through perils, human or not so, Scrooge is desensitized to quite a bit of violence and the dark and greedy side of the world. He’s seen the best of people and also the worst. This plays majorly in anyone who becomes a yandere; how exposed they are to people’s bad side or their own dark tendencies.

•Scrooge himself is not perfect and has demonstrated some traits of greediness, paranoia, and general distrustful behavior which is perfectly reasonable considering his work and the things he exposes himself too during it.

•Even though he loves adventure, there are a lot of bad things that happen on them that he seems to bottle up or keep to himself. Bottling up things causes a negative buildup in anyone, especially Scrooge because he expects that loving his life’s work will repair the same damage it sometimes does to him.

•Most likely, Scrooge developed an affinity with you through your similar drive for adventure. Maybe you worked for him in some way and he saw you defend someone or maybe you outsmarted one of his adversaries on an adventure he decided to bring you on. Regardless, you’ve caught his attention and this is only the beginning.

•A rival love interest’s biggest mistake is mistaking his age for a weakness. One minute he’s complaining about someone being on his lawn, the other they’re buried under it.

•Scrooge would probably connect most if he’s seen that you used to be in his shoes before, or at least a similar situation. Maybe you’re struggling financially but working your ass off to stabilize your income. As someone with the humble origins of a shoeshiner, Scrooge understands perfectly. Despite his incredible stockpile of wealth, he knows what’s it’s like to be at rock bottom.

•At first, you’re probably obviously very suprised with Scrooge’s involvement in your life. He’s from an entirely different world than yours after all, the top of the pyramid. Depending on your origins, you might react quite differently. Currently, you managed to find yourself stuck in a job you hated, working for someone you despised. It was a miserable, repetitive job that brought to your life a void of boredom.

•You craved adrenaline, even if it would get you killed, you finally figured that at least you’d go out with a spark. Putting on a smiling face, you accept a position at McDuck industries thinking that it was going to be another office job. By your luck, (or, later on, unfortunate luck), you managed to score a position that required you to be near Scrooge quite often.

•This gave both of you time to acquaint with eachother and the opportunity for him to see the potential in you as an adventurer instead of just an employee. Scrooge rarely lets people in beyond family, and is quite reserved so he himself questions what he sees in you at first, distrusting you even.

•When you are taken on your first adventure, you nearly boil over with eagerness. There’s a worry at first of the treachery involved but eventually, as you venture on more and more explorations, that fear dulls and you think the adrenaline as far more important than the possible loss of your life.

•Craving adrenaline is the main reason at first as to why you to want to stay around Scrooge. Despite his repeated attempts to brush or push you away, you find yourself excited every time you get to explore and finally get to see a world that you thought you’d never visit.

•Still, Scrooge remains cold and you can’t figure out why beyond the reason that he’s just a pessimistic old capitalist. As much as you want the adrenaline, you kinda can’t help but eventually enjoy his presence as well despite his temper and general grumpiness. Having been alone for over two decades without friends does that to someone. You needed warmth again.

•Maybe you grew attached to all the times you felt you were winning when you snubbed an artifact. Also, after collecting and sneaking a few gold coins into your own pocket, you were finally getting out of debt and on track to actually start your own business involving (F/H). You had the dream that you could travel where you wanted and finally find peace from your own mind and problems.

•Scrooge, despite his own warnings to himself not to persue, can’t help but offer you a job working for him. You made adventuring a million times better and were a great addition to the team, providing your own perspective or plan for the times he and his family would journey out. Oh, and he’d finally get the opportunity to be around you more. It was refreshing to see how optimistic you managed to remain despite your current financial predicament. (Which he contemplated solving.)

•Soon, however, Scrooge began to see that you were not as happy go lucky as you pretended to be, at least not when you weren’t on another treasure hunt. Something appeared to be gnawing at you. Deep down inside, it appeared to plague you and Scrooge began to worry for your well being and as a too curious for his own good duck, he needed to know what was going on. Especially when he had caught you quickly wiping away tears while you began to head home. What could possibly be causing you this pain?

•He had to find out and to his own realization, he had to know now. After all the times you saved and helped him, he wanted to make sure you were at least doing alright in return. He ordered Launchpad to tail you home and Launchpad, oh so very loyal, doesn’t question it much.

•Most yanderes might suffer from the constant delusion that their victims love them back or that they’re in the right but that’s not the case with Scrooge. There are times where he does try to justify himself, but this is mainly due to a fit of rage or to play innocent to you. Most of the time, he knows his actions are wrong and the burning temptation is causing a war. Very early on, he suppresses his curiosity and the growing feelings he has about you. Especially when they begin to boil into something far darker. Although he’s done this to nearly everyone, being cold to you and pushing you away seemed to be his way of trying to ensure your well being instead of his. He was finding it hard not to think about you sometimes.

•Soon enough though, he begins to grow inquisitive about your personal life as you open up to him and define yourself as a person instead of another blur. You were always quite genuine to just sit around and talk to him and despite denying it to himself, Scrooge was lonely, especially after the Spear of Selene. Sometimes you’d joke to him, sometimes you’d think philosophically. Sometimes it was just a mutual, comfortable silence.

•Scrooge might make excuses aloud to you, but doesn’t lie to himself. All the times he’s made you work later or given you an extra dose of paperwork was because he wanted to keep you around and in his line of sight. 12 hours without you was turning into a painful reminder of how isolated he was, even with Beakley around. You were a warmth, a cool, calm warmth.

• “I’ll eventually need to know her address later on in case she’s attacked by one of my adversaries anyways.” Nope, Scrooge wasn’t fooling himself with that sentiment. He knew he was invading your privacy, but he also knew that he was too nosy to care enough.

•The main problem is that although Scrooge knows a lot of what he’s doing isn’t right, he begins to care less and less. (Though this process takes quite a while.) You’re a valuable and positive part of his life, you had stayed when everyone else had abandoned him for his admittedly awful mistakes. He can’t lose another person he treasures. Especially not you. You’re becoming the shiniest yet. Losing you might mean losing himself in some sense.

•Scrooge tries to shake off the guilt but only finds that maybe it’s better to punish himself by feeling it. He’s currently following along your path to wherever your destination currently is.

•Of course, his iconic shiny limousine would be a sore thumb sticking out to both you, the media, and Duckberg in general so he makes sure to either trail far behind or to have another mode of transportation available. Regardless, Scrooge never hires another person to watch you in place.

•Scrooge doesn’t even install cameras. He’d rather experience your life from his own two eyes and not as reported from another bird or screen. He rather liked tracking you himself. It gave him a place to go and at least he’d be able to bask in your duality himself. Sometimes you cried, he found to his own breaking heart. Sometimes you’d smile, (mostly only in his presence, to his delight.)

•Most of all, though, you seem caught in the present of life. Distracted, even. It seems though, that sometimes you’re so distracted that you don’t even notice something is off. Or maybe you yourself are too unable to break the cycle of adrenaline adventure to see it. Maybe you yourself were actively creating excuses, at least at first as to why you sometimes ran into Scrooge McDuck everywhere.

•If there’s something else Scrooge is a master at other than money, it’s with keeping up the detached and reserved persona of a wealthy individual. After all, who would suspect him of such crimes like these? He’s just a selfish, greedy businessman that only cares about his wealth, right? He’d never bother with other birds unless he was shaking hands at a conference table.

•Wrong. As you and him grow to become more like mentor and student, Scrooge begins to insert himself everywhere he possible can in your life, especially after seeing the shitfest that was your social group, what little of it there was. Apparently, you’d finally made a few friends over the years working for him and there was only one out of all of them that Scrooge approved of.

•Two of them, both identical Peacock twins appeared to be fascinated with your link to him and nothing more. It made some sense. After all, who could say they were a close worker to the richest duck in the world? The other one, a tall and lanky chicken, was getting far too handsy with you, and the final, a feline male was nothing but gossip and drama.

•To add to insult, you were a pretty big pushover outside of work which meant that they would drag you to places you didn’t even want to go and pressure you to have drinks you didn’t want to taste. They were in love with the mask you put up, not the complex and amazing face behind it. The one that you were beginning to let Scrooge see.

• Scrooge watches from a distance as your laugh reverberates. The laugh appears to Scrooge as unwavered and solid, mechanical in nature like it was a reoccurring script. Gazing at your face, he could see that your smile was strained, beak scrunched. You just wanted to go home and nothing more.

•The chicken next to you he was sucking a cigarette and the smoke blew in your direction, replacing your laugh with coughing and the others cackled with drunk glee, their solo cups tipping as they did. You blew it off as an accidental push in the wind which, by the way, wasn’t even blowing.

•Out of all of them, Scrooge hated the lanky chicken, who’s name he learned was Gale, the most. You deserved far better than that. Surely you saw through his sleazy act, right? Why were you hanging around such a ratched group of birds? Just how blind were you to their usage of you?

•Almost without even realizing it himself, Scrooge had tailed you the entire way home. After having to torment himself with an hour of seeing you torment yourself, he figured that maybe you’d find something that made you happy other thanyour little flock of “friends.”

•So he was admitting to being a stalker to himself. Did that mean he’d be able to admit it to oblivious ol’ you? Well, no. At least, not for now. Not until you trust him completely. Oh well, he’ll never go further than then that, right? He was watching you, but not engaging in any way. Nothing worse could come out of it..

•Wrong.

•After a while of having you working under him at McDuck Industries, Scrooge began to realize just how much financial control he had over you. Not only did you depend on him cod for paycheck, your landlord worked for someone who worked for him. In other words, the spot of land you were living on was an apartment company that belonged to him. You were living under one of his roofs. All he’d have to do was shift some circumstances and you’d either be homeless or debt free forever. Scrooge of course, plays the benevolent route and lowers it significantly for you. Why antagonize you?

•After having taken that action, Scrooge noticed more and more of a smile on your face as you realized that you didn’t have to depend paycheck to paycheck for food on the table. He had also been aware that you had a side hobby now, involving (F/H.) sometimes you joked you’d start a business and go off parting ways with that hobby. It was source of entertainment to watch you be..Well, you. There was this genuine behavior about you that just drew him in.

•If Scrooge wasn’t adventuring with you or at a meeting also with you, he was still with you. You just didn’t know it yet. Interestingly however, you’d begun to pick up the signs that there was a presence in your life. Whereas you didn’t close the blinds before, you did now. Or maybe that was from all the adventures you’d nearly died on fighting others off. Maybe it was paranoia.

•Eventually, Scrooge managed to break into your apartment under the guise to Launchpad that he’d been invited by you. A ludicrous lie, of course, but Launchpad is gullible to a fault when it comes to Scrooge. He’s loyal like that, and his friendliness to you plays into Scrooge’s emotional manipulation later on.

•As Scrooge sneaks in while you’re still home, he makes his way behind the kitchen counter which seperated your living room. He didn’t expect you to be right there in the living room, but you were, just five feet away from him and the window he snuck in. The window was to your right. He had carefully parted the curtains. Your couch was sitting approximately five feet from the window balcony, facing a corner of the wall with the T.V off.

•Peculiarly, you hadn’t even noticed he’d entered by rigging the door. You were right there, not staring at his direction, but he should have at least appeared in your peripheral. Just what were you doing to be so disconnected to the reality around you? It was worrying.

•Now hidden behind the counter directly to the left of you, he observes your desensitized form. For a moment, Scrooge thought you were a corpse until he peered closer. You were still there, physically. Mentally you looked as if you were in a whole other dimension. In a rather bold move, Scrooge slowly stands up and positions himself in the archway, watching you from his spot.

•You were still, so very still unlike all the times you’d fidget at work or with those “friends.” You still breathed and your hands shook slightly and there was color to your eyes but you yourself didn’t even seem present whatsoever. Your eyes were glazed and far away. It was just your body sitting there in that couch. It was worrisome and yet there was a blissful smile to your face seconds later.

•It was you, daydreaming about something. Something you obviously enjoyed. Scrooge, to his own shame, hoped it involved him. For a few more moments, all you did was sigh like you were meditating. It was haunting how easily you had lost yourself within the confines of your tumbling mind. Somehow, you were blocking out the world beyond, maladaptively.

• Scrooge knew he was taking a huge risk. All you’d have to do to spot him now was swivel your head a few inches or wake up from dreamland. It would take a few inches to ruin what you thought of him.

Just then, to Scrooge’s horror, you had slowly picked yourself off the couch. Your body shuttered as your head snapped up. He knew he was taking a huge risk with this and began to think that maybe it was a terrible idea after all. (Who was he kidding, it was terrible in the first place, he knew what he was doing.)

•He quickly fell back to his crouched position behind the counter, silently and expertly as you turned around and made your way closer and closer. There was a tense moment in which Scrooge contemplated just knocking you down completely and rendering you unconscious. All it would take was a few seconds. Maybe you’d forget or maybe he’d give you the dreamland you seemed so desperate to reach. It would certainly give him peace of mind to know where you are 24/7..All he’d have to do is knock you out and take you to the manor. You’d be secure and have everything you need there…

•Your presence was setting him alight, in the good way and bad way. He loved being near you. But hated the idea of you getting any closer right now, because you getting any closer would ruin your trust in him entirely. A few more steps is all there was between the idol you saw Scrooge as and the monster he was growing to be. You were like a fire. The heat scorched his feathers. Then, when you were away, his thoughts.

•Your steps were louder than they’d ever been. Then, to Scrooge’s unbelievable luck, you turned towards the hallway away from the kitchen. Scrooge knew not to push his luck trying to follow or stay, so despite his clawing urge to figure you out, he hesitantly snuck out with unanswered questions on your concerning mental state.

•It had been a months since that incident and Scrooge was moving onto bigger and bolder actions. Sometimes he’d swipe you away from any conversations you had with your friends by calling you in for a task. Sometimes he’d eat up all your time by keeping you in late, and taking you to places far away that required days of travel.

•Sometimes he’d drive bad influences away by financially ruining their life forever.

You noticed Gale’s downfall quickly, but you didn’t have any idea it was Scrooge who was responsible. Gale lived actually, three complexes from you and oh so suddenly, rent had begun to skyrocket in the particular room he had to himself. This led to him being presented with an eviction notice. You didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. (Not that you wanted to, though.) deep down you were glad he was gone and Scrooge knew it. Gale had to move far off to find an affordable spot. It was a mercy considering how often Scrooge had dreamed of just throwing him into the ocean tied up for the sharks to find. He was a toxic influence.

•Maybe if someone pushed his button just right, Scrooge would end up killing them, and who would care? There were seven billion fellow people on the planet. Scrooge could just get rid of any threat he wanted and no one would notice or ever suspect it was him. After all, he’s just a grumpy old man with a cane.

•It turns out, Scrooge had picked up on your plans to possibly quit your job. He had never felt his heart sink like it did now. He was fighting off his initial shock as you stood in his office, masking it with a detached face. You hadn’t even confirmed the statement. All you’d said was that maybe you’d found a company within your favorite hobby.

•It was just a small implication. But, Implications could become statements, which could turn into actions, and Scrooge couldn’t let the thought even be a presence in your mind.

•You had stayed with him throughout the years of his loneliest moments, had confessed secrets, had confided in him. You were like his pupil, learning from him and you were like his partner, fighting alongside him. Maybe you were something different altogether.

•...Was it a friend that convinced you? It had to be. Scrooge knew how much you enjoyed galavanting around the world with him. There’s no way you’d just fly off without him.-

“I promise I’ll still occasionally go with you, Scrooge. (A first name basis. This was devolving from anything normal.) I found my passion. We can still adventure together, but I found a path that also makes me happy and doesn’t ya know, get me killed.” You chuckle as if it were nothing. A light joke.

•So you were leaving. You were going to go. Why? You had a great paycheck, (an expensive one that took a lot of money,) you had the opportunity to travel the world. You had the best job you’d ever get. Who else was going to be as good as him? He won’t let you destroy your future by applying for a Mediocre position at some dumptruck company.

•As it turns out, the bird responsible for swaying you was none other than one of the peacocks, her name was Shelby. She and you laughed, and for the first time, your laugh was genuine. Genuine with her and not with Scrooge. You both shared each other’s stories, and she in return had encouraged your little dangerous fantasy of being independent.

•Now of course Scrooge realized how ridiculous this all sounded. He had willingly allowed you to go on perilous adventures with him, but at least then, you were with him. How could he keep an easy eye on you if you just moved off to some rando spot? Plus, he was plenty good as saving you. He was your hero.

•Bad influences needed to go away.

•Scrooge might lie to himself about how much it digs under his feathers, but to see you around other people really dug wrong. He itched every time you decided to take advice from other people, or confide in them instead of him. He was the one you could go to, not them. Your secrets didn’t need to be shared with anyone else but Scrooge. All those rare and precious things that made you yourself didn’t need to be snatched by thieves like Shelby or Gale or whoever else.

•He knew that his criminal actions would scare you. Even with your growing trust and dependence on him, he knew it was too early for you to want to stay with him if you knew what he’s been doing. If he wanted your presence, he’d keep it through lengths you’d find terrifying.

•Scrooge found your biggest flaw was that you always attracted the wrong crowd, and it was primarily because you were always trying to impress others when they really didn’t deserve the magnificent canvas you painted yourself to be. To his even greater detriment, you were beginning to spend your time more and more with Shelby. The canvas you painted was beautiful, as always. But it wasn’t for him, and he found that he was not happy with this new development.

•Don’t you know people take advantage of kindness? It happened to him all the time and still does. It happened to you over and over and yet you kept venturing forth giving out your trust like it was nothing. The world is a sour place if you’re not careful. Cursed kilts, you were already naive about Gale. Who knows how badly future people would hurt you, even if they were well intentioned.

Scrooge could tell that, despite him insisting otherwise, you thought leaning on his shoulder was burdening him. He wanted to make sure you knew it was anything but that. As a matter of fact, he wanted you to lean on his shoulder every moment he possibly could get you to. What was just you occasionally asking for advice on impersonal things becomes entire sessions with Scrooge encouraging you to reveal every personal detail of your life.

•You had revealed that many times, you just wanted independence. A company of your own to possibly build so you could pursue life your own way. Scrooge knew these dangerous thoughts were one of the final roadblocks. Scrooge had to prevent them. Be it through roughening you up financially or discouraging you. Be it from murdering outside influences, too. Who was going to miss the miserable miscreants that plagued your life anyways?

•It is three days before the date you had decided that you would resign. Instead of being merry, you were miserable. The opportunity you had to get the job was burned by them not even calling you for an interview. After your resume, why would they reject you? You had the word of one of the finest businessmen out there to back you up. Scrooge himself promised to put in a good word for you! You were perfectly qualified for the job you were looking for. In your days of being rejected from the position you wanted, you confide in Scrooge. You don’t know it but as he pats your shoulder, he’s thinking of the next way to sabotage your efforts of leaving him.

•Shelby ends up going missing. She was one of your closest friends and the only one who finally treated you well. Your devastation causes a major setback in any ambitious plans as you isolate yourself from anyone else but only the closest person left in your life; Scrooge.

•Currently, you were enveloped in a warm hug, the side of your face leaning in the crook of Scrooge’s neck as he calmed your crying form down, patting your back and promising you his presence would remain forever. You wept at Shelby’s funeral, so did her twin sister and their parents, who, upon seeing Scrooge, had nearly fainted in shock.

•Despite your tumultuous relationship with Shelby, she had actually begun to redeem much of her previously antagonistic actions towards you. She was in a rough place when you had developed a connection with her. So you wept in your boss’s, or rather, your best confidantes arms. You wept.

Scrooge, however, did not.

#yandere #obsession #yandere ducktales #scrooge mcduck #headcanons #yandere x reader #reader insert #platonic or romantic #ducktales #cartoon #yandere Scrooge McDuck #minors do not interact #murder #this is weird I know #dt 2017 #ducktales 2017

[coeurdastronaute]

Nerd 14

Previously on Nerd

There weren’t many things considered as decorations in the house on the corner of Inglewood Street. The old stone house, with its black shutters and manicured lawn hid behind a stately oak and the polished Porsche in the driveway, glowed as a beacon in the neighborhood, of perfection and wealthy modesty. Inside, it was less populated than one might expect, never fully lived-in, at least not to the casual observer. 

Clarke moved her way down the stairs as she balanced the bag on her shoulder, fully prepared for work and then studying with her girlfriend on a fairly boring Saturday night. For the first time in a long time, she looked at the sparse frames of pictures of her family. 

Unsure of what made her pause, she furrowed, pushing her eyebrows tightly together and leaning into the image of her mother and father on a random date when they were together in college. They were carefree and at some bar trivia night. Abby hugged Jake’s bicep and nearly hid in his shoulder as he leaned forward, other arm lifted to interject an answer. He was smiling wide despite his eagerness, the flash ricocheting off part of his large glasses. His hair was floppy and fully, swept to the side and neatly arranged, while Abby was brimming with life. Clarke loved the candid picture because sometimes she looked at it, and these were two people who had entire lives and experiences and she forgot that. They probably got butterflies like she did when Lexa smiled at her. They probably spent hours excitedly waiting to see the other. 

In that picture, her mother wasn’t the person she was now, though both seemed insanely far away from Clarke. This college-aged person was alive, vibrant, in-love, awake, eager, and not cheating on her husband. The body language alone showed how much she adored him. 

In that picture, her father was the funny, charming man she remembered, not the angry, frustrated man who was skin and bones, who couldn’t eat, who couldn’t swallow, who had difficulties moving most days and remembering his own daughter others. He was alive as well. He was the man everyone wanted to sit beside for some reason, for som inexplicable reason he had this… he had a spark that drew those to him like a moth to a flame, except he was that flame, and he shared his light eagerly with those around him. 

Clarke relaxed her face after a few moments of looking and seeing and trying to find some kind of detail in that picture that would indicate that the couple in it would know what their life would like like two decades later. There wasn’t a single indication, and that terrified her. 

“Did you finish you math?” her mother’s voice called from the hallway, hearing her daughter shift and move to look at the next picture without seeing her first. 

“Yes.” 

The next image was a very tiny Clarke on her father’s shoulders and her mother hugging his waist as they all stood beneath a redwood tree. They had hiking gear, shorts, sunglasses, hats and sunscreen. They were all smiling. They were a family. 

“Did you email me that draft of your personal essay for applications?” 

Clarke gave up perusing, no longer feeling the yearn for that family unit that was far away. She rolled her eyes and stomped her way down the steps to find her mother sorting through envelopes and mail. 

“No.” 

“Why not?” Abby didn’t look up as she flipped.

“Because I’m a junior, and I have five months before applications are due.”

“That’s no excuse not to be prepared. Maybe if you didn’t spend so much time chasing after some gir--”

“Who am I chasing after?” Clarke scoffed, crossing her arms and peering at her mother. “Do you mean helping Lexa on her submission for film school? Do you mean tennis practice? Do you mean working part time? Do you mean having a social life?” 

“Considerate that you can help someone else get into college.” 

“It’s going to take her months to edit, which I can’t-- I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

That did it. Clarke knew it would. Clarke new an overt expression of her own independence would trigger her mother. She knew arguing and not appearing to care about college would give her the satisfaction of a righteous fight. She wanted it. It’d been brewing for about a week and a half, ever since Clarke said she was going prom dress shopping without her. Ever since Clark forgot to tell her about spending the night camping with Lexa and the film crew while the powered through the project. Ever since Clarke didn't’ come home for dinner last Tuesday and then raved about Mrs. Woods’ garlic chicken. Tiny things Clarke did with spite because she didn’t know what else to do, because she couldn’t do anything else. 

Abby’s nostrils flared and Clarke jutted her hip, shrugging to herself as she dug for her phone, ready to go to work and escape the house and the persistent smell of medical equipment and cleaner that haunted her until she was about two blocks from the house. 

“I’ll be home around midnight.” 

“Like hell you will. You’ll be home right after your shift.” 

“No,” Clarke paused as she turned to leave. “I’m going over Lexa’s to study. We’re watching a Cary Grant movie.” 

“You’re under the misconception that you get to make your own schedule and plans without asking permission. But that is not the case, Clarke.” 

“I’ve been doing fine.” 

“You’ve barely been home. Your father is--”

“Right there, in that room, asleep. I know this because I spent the morning with him. We made pancakes and played a game of cribbage. We talked about school and Lexa and I showed him pictures of the past week of my life. And I helped him with his meds because he’s having a bit of a flare. I told him I’d see him in the morning for omelettes because we’ve been watching cooking shows together and he wants to try the french style. I know exactly what is going on with my father.” 

She hadn’t meant to, but her voice began to raise as she spoke. Clarke felt her fist shake. She felt her muscles tighten and her jaw clench. She was okay with being considered lazy and unmotivated, but to be accused of negligence was uncalled for, especially from someone like her mother. 

“Don’t you raise your voice! You are greatly mistaken as to the nature of our relationship. I am your mother, and I am sick of your attitude, and your priorities not being your father and your family or your education.” 

“Lexa has nothing to do with any of that. Are you just mad I’m dating a girl? Or that I don’t care what you think anymore?” 

Slightly taken aback by her daughter, by her words, by her actions, by her entire demeanor over the past few months and frankly just sick of dealing with being the bad guy. 

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” Abby shook her head. 

“I could say the same thing.” 

The two stared at each other before Clarke shook her head and adjusted her bag. She toyed with her keys in her pockets before checking her phone again. 

“I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be back tonight.” 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Abby insisted again. “You’re grounded indefinitely.” 

“Except I’m not,” Clarke sighed and shook her head. “I’m not because I don’t care anymore. I genuinely don’t.”

“You’re going to. Give me your keys and your phone.” 

“No.” 

“I’m not joking, Clarke. You’re going to need to readjust your priorities and attitude.”

“I think you should take your own advice,” Clarke insisted as she reached the front door. “Or are you too busy fucking Kane to realize that there is no more family here?” 

With a satisfying slam, she yanked the door shut. The anger that was stationed in her shoulders dissipated with the noise and movement. Clarke stood there in the quiet of her perfect neighborhood, the flapping of the flag lazily moving in the spring breeze was all she heard at first. Then the birds came. Then a lawnmower started in the distance. 

Clarke felt lighter than she’d felt in a long time. She also felt emptier than any other time in her life. It was officially the end, and now she had to deal with that because the anger and the hurt and the betrayal was all she’d had in her for what felt like months. It hadn’t made anything better, and it certainly ruined everything, but Clarke took some solace in the fact that now she could try to fill herself up with something else. 

XXXXXXXXXX

The party at Bellamy Blake’s house was in full swing by the time Lexa made her way up the winding driveway and into the belly of the beast. She wasn’t sure how she ended up there exactly, except that her girlfriend texted and said to show up. That seemed to be enough of a reason, though Lexa wasn’t particularly prepared. They’d had plans. Quiet plans. Private plans. Movie plans. 

And now Lexa was going to her girlfriend’s ex’s party. 

She shoved her hands in her pockets as she moved through the crowd, clearly not getting the memo that jeans were not entirely good enough attire, and in fact she seemed to be extremely overdressed. Her eyes bugged slightly as she watched a girl from her physics class walk by in a very tiny, very teeny lime green bikini. Lexa became suddenly aware of the appeal of such things, as if she hadn’t noticed them before, but then MIchelle who sat diagonally in front of her third period looked like that and she gulped. 

The music thumped loudly. The beats were rattling the walls and shaking the windows while the screams and giggles of her classmates sought to shatter glass. It wasn’t like the other parties she’d been to with Clarke. It wasn’t even like thrones Anya dragged her to when she visited. This was a night of debauchery and she hadn’t had time to prepare. 

And as much as she saw everyone else wearing bikinis, she hadn’t thought about Clarke wearing one. She’d seen Clarke’s boobs before. That was nice. But there was something to her girlfriend in a bikini that was… good. Very good, even. 

Lexa pushed her glasses up slightly on her nose and stared. 

“What are you doing here?” Gus asked, approaching quietly. She didn’t move or say anything else, just stared from across the pool, the steam billowing upward to ward the sky while everyone seemed to glow blue and green and red, the lights alternating around them, the flames of the fire pits dancing to keep everyone warm. The warm glow of the lights inside were lost on the white-blue shade to the water. 

“Lexa, focus,” he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “What are you doing here? Your sister would kill me if she knew you were at a Blake party.” 

“How is it different than any other party?” 

“It just is.” 

“Because of the pool? I’ve been to pool parties.” 

It hadn’t been since seventh grade and didn’t look like an episode of a CW show, but still, she’d been to a pool party with many of the same cast of characters that were currently on display. It was before puberty, but still. 

“We need to get you home.” 

“Clarke invited me.” 

“It doesn’t matter. This isn’t your scene.” 

“I can be in any scene. I’ve watched every John Hughes movie.”

“This is more of an episode of Euphoria than an 80s teen flick,” Gus sighed and took another swig from his cup. “And I fully believe you would fit in fine with Molly Ringwald.”

“That’s very kind of you to say,” Lexa nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

She took her eyes off of her girlfriend long enough to assure her friend that she was perfectly fine now. She was dating the head cheerleader. She’d been to parties and seen--

“Gus-- is that cocaine?” 

“Okay, yeah, we have to get you out of here,” he shook his head and tossed his empty cup into a flowerbed. 

“Is it really?” she asked, craning her neck as he pushed her forward. “I’ve never see that in real life before. People actually do that thing with the credit cards and dollar bills? Astounding. Where does one get cocaine?” 

“You don’t need to know that.” 

“I’m not going to do it. I’m just curious.” 

They only made it a few steps before the ran into a sopping body. A tall, muscular, tan, perfectly chiseled and dripping body. It was the body of an actual god. It was the body of the perfect specimen, with biceps and the long swimmer cuts that pointed firmly toward his… his-ness. 

“Gus, long time, man. How you been?” Bellamy Blake grinned before slipping his cup in his teeth as he hugged the other football player. 

“Not too bad. Heard you’re heading to Oregon in the fall?” 

“Yeah, partial scholarship. We’ll see what happens,” he shrugged. “Staying close?” 

“Yeah, St. Johns, about three hours away.” 

“Full ride?” 

“Yeah. I got offered half to OSU, but would rather not have to pay anything.” 

“No, that’s smart.” 

The whole time they spoke, Lexa watched Clarke’s ex intently. She frowned to herself and wondered how her girlfriend broke up with him. He was effortlessly cool. He was huge. He looked like he knew how to go down on a girl, and Lexa was still apprehensive. She wished she could fast forward in life until she was really good at sex. 

She watched him grin and sip from his red cup, meeting her eyes curiously as Gus explained something about his college recruitment process. 

“I don’t think we’ve ever met before. I’m Bellamy.” 

He held out his hand. And though she didn’t want to do it, she sighed and shook his hand. 

“Sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Lexa.” 

“Lexa… Lexa…” He mulled. 

“Anya Woods’ sister.” 

“Wow, you’re Anya’s little sister?” 

“Yeah.” 

“How is she? I forgot she had a little sister. I remember her little brother died-- oh shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“We were just heading out,” Gus interrupted. 

“I was actually just going to go talk to Clarke.” 

“Why would you--”

Before anything else could be said, before anything else could transpire between the two of them, before Gus had to interrupt again, Clarke appeared, launching herself into her girlfriend’s arms, wrapping her own around her neck, her body still slightly damp from the pool she must have just climbed out of during the awkward introduction. 

“You’re here. I’m so happy,” Clarke hummed against Lexa’s warm neck. She buried herself there, suffocating herself happily, slightly tipsy. 

“I told you I’d stop by.” 

Clarke kissed her girlfriend’s neck. She leaned most of her body against her there and giggled, oblivious to the eyes, too drunk to care about anything else happening. 

“I am have the worst day. Maybe the worst week. Maybe the worst year ever. No, wait. Definitely the worst year, and today I finally told my mom everything and then left. So Yeah. It’s been terrible. I got drunk.” 

“Not the healthiest coping mechanism.”

“Not a bit,” Clarke grinned, agreeing eagerly and with a wide grin. She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend despite her words. 

“You can be healthy tomorrow,” Lexa offered. “You okay?” 

“As okay as can be.” 

There was some throat clearing that happened behind them, and Lexa felt a burning in her ears and chest at the display, unaccustomed to it all. 

“So this is your new girlfriend?” Bellamy asked, looking at the pair. 

“Lex, I suppose you’ve met my ex,” Clarke gestured. 

“Kind of.” 

“Is this party a little much?”

“If I remember correctly, this was exactly the kind of thing you liked. We went to many a party in our tenure,” Bellamy shrugged, lazily leaning against a counter. “Things changed since I left, I guess.” 

“I enjoyed not thinking,” Clarke offered. “You were great for that.” 

Gus and Lexa looked between the two and then at each other. She was almost certain she didn’t know what was happening, but that certainly, something was, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it. 

“You moved on quick, huh?” 

“Hey, step back,” Gus interrupted as Bellamy took a single step. “This is Anya’s sister.” 

“Woods?” he furrowed. “You’re dating Anya Woods’ kid sister?” 

“Yup,” Clarke nodded. 

“I heard she was--”

“Standing right here,” Gus finished. 

Lexa felt Clarke’s hand move into her own and she smiled despite the fact that she was picking up a drunk girl at her college guy ex’s party. There was a lot in that sentence she wasn’t happy about, now that she thought about it. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Lexa asked innocently, ignoring the rest. 

“I think we still have a few more shots lined up, Clarke,” Bellamy smiled and Lexa understood the need to punch. 

Noticeably torn, she looked at her girlfriend and back at her ex before realizing that she was actually drunk, and that wasn’t good. Lexa smiled softly and rubbed her girlfriend’s back. She kind of imagined how it must have felt to implode and take her mother down with her. Lexa remembered the feeling of telling her father she was gay and sad. Clarke’s implosion didn’t seem as successful as her own, and Lexa was more than happy to try to help in whatever way she could. 

“Can I stay at your place tonight?” 

“Yeah,” Lexa nodded quickly. “I’ll text my mom to let her know.” 

“You’re seriously leaving?” The college football player and terrible ex scoffed. “The night is still young. It’s barely after eleven.” 

“Thanks for getting me drunk, but I should probably go do something better.” 

“Thanks for showing me around,” Lexa offered nodding her head slightly toward the host before he could argue. “Have a good night. I’ll see you on Monday, Gus.”

“Get home safe,” the linebacker warned. 

Slightly dumbfounded, Bellamy Blake stood there, hands on his hips as he watched his ex weave through the crowd of people and disappear. As much s everything stayed the same, he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling of change, and how averse he was to it. 

XXXXXXXXXX

“Here, you can, uh,” Lexa quickly moved through her bedroom, leaving her girlfriend standing by the bed. “I have some old sweats if you want.” 

Already, Clarke began taking off her pants, and Lexa quickly looked in the drawers of her dresser. She felt the tips of her ears burn slightly as she looked over her shoulder, her girlfriend slumping into the bed, pants lost to the floor. 

“I knew I shouldn’t have gone to that party. I knew it,” Clarke sighed, rubbing her face with both hands to ride herself of the spinning. “But I didn’t care. I just wanted to… you know…”

“You had it out with your mom. You just anted to go far away. I get it.” 

“Don’t be nice to me. I knew better than to go, especially to anything involving Bellamy Blake.” 

“Why?” 

“He doesn’t care about any of it. Just has drinks. I should have called you or like done something else.” 

“You’re allowed to want to take a night off from a giant secret after a huge fight. And you don’t need my permission,” Lexa reminded her girlfriend, offering an old shirt. 

“It was stupid.” 

“Do you feel better?” 

Gingerly, Lexa tugged at Clarke’s shirt, pulling it over her head until she flopped back down on the bed, her hair fanning out against the pillow. Agitated at herself, at her clothe, at the unfathomable uncontrollability to the entirety of her life, Clarke growled to herself as she tugged off her bra, tossing it to the side and gracelessly pulling on the shirt Lexa offered. 

“I don’t feel better at all.” 

It was certainly a pout, and Lexa did her best to ignore it. Instead, she slicked off the light beside the bed, and slid between the sheets next to Clarke. Lexa laid there until Clarke turned to face her, until she placed her hand on her neck and cheek. 

“I’m sorry you had to pick me up.” 

“It’s okay,” Lexa whispered. 

“It’s not. I’m not like this… I don’t mean to be… I mean--”

“It’s okay.” 

Clarke leaned forward, shifting beneath the blankets until their knees were touching. She moved to only push the hair from Lexa’s forehead and she paused before kissing her lips. She tasted the warmth of the tequila there and she didn’t care. Lexa signed. 

“Please don’t give up on me anytime soon,” Clarke murmured. Stunned from the kiss, Lexa blinked in the dark and shifted closer. 

“I wouldn’t ever.” 

“I know you wouldn’t. I just had to say it out loud.” 

“Okay.” 

Lexa was certain she was going to get another kiss, but instead, Clarke dug her forehead under her girlfriend’s chin and pressed their bodies together, hugging her tightly and disappearing, being overwhelmed, anchoring herself to a steady force. Lexa rubbed Clarke’s back for a few moments until she fell asleep, and then she allowed herself the option of sleep.

NEXT

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 130

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,820ish

Summary: The battle for the Infinity Stones begins, both on Earth and on Titan.

Previously on Out Of Time…

“I went forward in time to view alternate futures,” Strange panted. “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”

“How many did you see?” Star-Lord wonders.

“14,000,605.”

“How many did we win?” Tony asked.

Strange stared intently at Tony for a moment, almost sad like. Before looking past him at Y/N. “One.”

Everyone turned to look where Strange was looking. Y/N was still standing, with green eyes and green energy encircling her head. Tony rushed over, grasping Y/N by the arms.

“Y/N!” Tony called, trying gently to shake her out of whatever was happening. “Come on, honey. Push through!”

“Mr. Stark, what’s happening to her?” Peter asked worriedly. 

“The Time Stone is controlling her,” Strange answered. 

“Y/N, come on!” Tony continued, shaking her again.

Gasping dramatically, Y/N fell forward into Tony. The Time Stone’s energy evaporated into the air as Y/N tried to cling onto Tony.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Tony responded, holding onto Y/N. “I got you.”

From over Tony’s shoulder, Y/N met Strange’s gaze. He knew what she had seen and been told. He shook his head as if to tell her that she couldn’t say anything. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to hold Tony closer. 

“It’s okay, we’re okay,” Tony continued to try and calm Y/N. “I’ve got you.”

“We need a plan,” Y/N whispered. “And fast.” She pulled away, looking into Tony’s eyes. “Before it’s too late.”

~~~

The small team came up with a plan and were all heading for their places. Tony grabbed Y/N’s arm, stopping her, and pulled her in for a deep kiss.

“You are worth more than their lives, you understand?” He whispered. “You do anything to get the Stones and survive.”

“I understand,” she responded with a nod. “The same goes for you.”

“I love you,” he breathed out before pulling her in for another kiss. He was clearly pouring everything into it, like it could be their last. “Say safe.” Then he walked away.

Thanos appeared not long after everyone had gotten into position. It was clear to Y/N that he had used the Space Stone to create a portal to get there. Thanos studied his surroundings, stopping at Maw’s destroyed ship. Strange was sitting on some steps to the side of Thanos, with Y/N hiding behind a post. She had never sensed this many Stones at once. Thanos had successfully retrieved the Reality, Space, Power, and Soul Stones. He only needed two more.

“Oh, yeah, you’re much more of a Thanos,” Strange commented, turning Thanos’ attention to him.

“I take it the Maw is dead,” Thanos stated, taking a few steps towards Strange. “This day extracts a heavy toll. Still, he accomplished his mission.”

“You may regret that. He brought you face-to-face with the Master of the Mystic Arts.”

“And where do you think he brought you?”

“Let me guess. Your home?”

Thanos smiled reminiscently. “It was. And it was beautiful.” 

Thanos curled his gauntleted fist, activating the Reality Stone. As buzz formed in Y/N’s head as the planet changed to look like what it was before it was destroyed. Green lawns, intact buildings, water-filled ponds. There were strolling citizens and structures hovering above the surface.

“Titan was like most planets,” Thanos continued. “Too many mouths, and not enough to go around. And when we faced extinction, I offered a solution.”

“Genocide,” Strange stated.

“But at random, dispassionate, fair to rich and poor alike. They called me a madman. And what I predicted came to pass.” Relaxing his fist, the Reality Stone stopped glowing and the illusion faded.

“Congratulations. You're a prophet.”

“I’m a survivor.”

“Who wants to murder trillions.”

“With all six stones, I could simply snap my fingers, and they would all cease to exist. I call that... mercy.”

Strange stood up. “And then what?”

“I finally rest... and watch the sun rise on a grateful universe. The hardest choices require the strongest wills.”

Summoning his magical shields, Strange entered a fight pose. “I think you'll find our will equal to yours.”

“Ours?”

Looking up, Thanos saw a chunk of wreckage descending rapidly on him, too rapidly to react. He was quickly crushed by it.

“Piece of cake, Quill,” Tony commented, flying in.

Triggering his mask, Quill followed. “Yeah, if your goal was to piss him off!” He responded.

The wreckage on top of Thanos erupted in purple and he bellowed in rage. Using the Reality Stone, he turned the hovering fragments into a flock of bats, swarming Iron Man with them and driving him back through the ruins. Spider-Man then webbed Thanos’ eyes and swung in to kick him in the face. At the same time, Drax appeared, blades in both hands. He knee-slid behind Thanos and cut the back of the villain’s knee.

Dr. Strange jumped through a portal and summons a sword of magic energy. He dueled with Thanos as Drax attacked similarly on the other side. Thanos punched Drax through a ruined wall, then shattered Strange’s blade and tore the webs from his eyes. He advanced on Dr. Strange and kicked at him, but Strange’s shield absorbed the damage and the cloak lifted Strange from the ground.

Star-Lord began shooting Thanos from behind. Thanos used the Power Stone to shoot balls of energy at Star-Lord while Star-Lord leapt towards Thanos using magical platforms thrown in his path by Strange. The las one was placed above Thanos’ head and Star-Lord flipped over him and slapped a bomb onto the Titan’s back. Star-Lord sticked his landing, disengaged his helmet and flipped Thanos the bird.

“Boom!” Quill exclaimed, falling backward into a portal.

The explosion from the bomb on Thanos’ back, knocked the Titan to his knees, dazing him briefly. Y/N was still behind the post, breathing heavily cause of the Stones. The plan was for Y/N to stay there until called in. Strange and Tony were both at the understanding that nothing could happen to her. She watched as Strange’s clock swooped off his shoulders and wrapped itself tightly around Thanos’ armored hand. Strange then started to throw portals everywhere, Spider-Man leaping through them to attack Thanos.

“Magic!” Spider-Man exclaimed as he put Thanos in the head before disappearing in a portal and reappearing above. “More magic!” He yanked the Titan’s head down hard, then leapt into another portal. “Magic with a kick!” Spider-Man delivered a flying kick before disappearing and reappearing once again. “Magic with a—“

Before Spider-Man could finish, Thanos turned and grabbed him from the air. He threw Spider-Man to the ground, with a hand around his neck.

“Insect!” Thanos yelled.

Thanos threw Spider-Man at Dr. Strange, knocking them both down. As Thanos tore the cloak away from his hand, Iron Man began bombarding him with fiery explosives. Thanos sucked all the flame into the gauntlet using the Power Stone and fired it in a stream at Iron Man. Tony was hit dead on, sending him plowing through a massive fallen machine far away.

Y/N had had enough of sitting on the sidelines. Appearing in front of Thanos, her fists were glowing purple.

“What have we here?” Thanos asked, clearly unimpressed.

“Stop hurting the people I care about,” Y/N growled.

Pushing her hands forwards, she blasted Thanos back. Regaining himself, Y/N marched forward, hands glowing purple once again. It was then that something on his gauntlet caught his eye. The Power Stone was glowing, yet not because of him. Y/N blasted him again, pushing him further into the debris. 

“Impossible!” Thanos exclaimed, rising from the rumble. “You’re channeling the Stones. How?”

“Does it really matter?” Y/N retorted.

She fired another beam at him, only for him to clench his fist and fire one in return. Both beams were from the Power Stone. They collided in the middle, sending both attackers crashing backwards. Tony quickly flew in and picked Y/N up, flying her to safety as Thanos fired at them.

“Stay here!” Tony ordered, dropping Y/N carefully. “Wait for the signal!”  

“Tony! I could—“

“No! Stay there!"

Spider-Man leaped from behind while Thanos concentrated his fire on Iron Man. He webbed the gauntlet and dropped down in front of Thanos, pulling hard. Thanos yanked on the web-line, pulling the teenage towards him and punching him on his way past. The Titan then teared the webbing free of the gauntlet just in time for a small spaceship to attempt to crash-land on him. The ship dragged Thanos along for a distance, burying him under debris. Thanos stood just as the pilot jumped in a great arc to punch him, landing in front of him with an energy-blade at the ready.

“Well, well,” Thanos chuckled.

“You should have killed me,” the mostly robotic woman replied.

“It would’ve been a waste of parts!”

The robotic woman ran at Thanos, attacking him. “Where’s Gamora?!”

Thanos punched her away. Dr. Strange reappeared and used his magic to pin the gauntlet, pulling Thanos’ fingers open and trying to pry the gauntlet off his hand. The Titan tried to pull free just at Drax slid in. Drax kicked the Titan’s knee, knocking him off balance, before wrapping himself around Thanos’ kneeling leg.

Star-Lord shot an electric trap onto the ground, the tangle-field holding down Thanos’ unarmored hand. Spider-Man swung in, webbed Thanos’ chest and then wrapped it around behind him. Peter used his spider legs to anchor himself into the ground. 

Dr. Strange opened a portal straight above Thanos, which Mantis dropped throw. She landed on the Titan’s shoulders and placed her hand on his temples. He bellowed as she tried to put him under.

“Is he under?” Tony asked. “Don’t let up.”

“Be quick,” Mantis said, starting to cry. “He is very strong.”

 “Y/N!” Tony shouted, beginning to pull on the gauntlet. “You’re up!”

Y/N portaled over there. She studied the Titan in front of her before choosing to focus on the Stones. She needed to get them off the gauntlet while they tried to get the gauntlet off his hand.

“Parker, help!” Tony ordered. “Get out here.” Peter dropped his web-line and hurried over to help Tony. “She can’t hold him much longer. Let’s go.”

Star-Lord flied over to join the others and stood in front of Thanos, tauntingly. “I thought you’d be harder to catch,” he said. “For the record, this was my plan. Not so strong now, huh? Where is Gamora?”

“My Gamora…” Thanos mumbled.

“No, bull-shit. Where is she?”

Mantis gasped in shock. “He is in anguish,” she told everyone.

“Good.”

“He… he mourns,” Mantis cried.

“What does this monster have to mourn?” Drax laughed.

“Gamora,” the robotic woman stated solemnly.

“What?” Quill questioned.

“Its…” Y/N whispered, feeling Thanos’ thoughts as she tried to focus on the Stones, who were fighting her back. “It’s his…”

“No! Y/N! Focus on the Stones!” Tony interrupted. “You can do this! Destiny and all that crap, right?”

“Nebula,” Quill pressed the robotic woman for an explanation.

“He took her to Vormir,” Nebula said in sadness. “He came back with the Soul Stone… but she didn’t.”

Tony quickly de-helmeted. “Okay, Quill, you gotta cool it right now, you understand?” Tony tried to get Star-Lord’s attention as the man slowly turned to Thanos. “Don't, don't, don't engage, we've almost got this off!”

“Tell me she’s lying,” Quill demanded. “Asshole! Tell me you didn’t do it!”

“I… had… to….” Thanos slowly got out.

“No, you didn’t! No, you didn’t!” Quill pistol whipped Thanos twice in the face, causing Mantis to let go in pain. “NO, YOU DIDN’T!”

“Quill!” Tony shouted. He leapt for Star-Lord’s arm, re-helmeting and leaving Spider-Man with the gauntlet. “Hey, stop! Hey, stop! Stop! Hey, stop! Stop!”

“It’s coming! It’s coming!” Peter announced. “It’s coming! I got it! I got it—“

Suddenly Thanos woke completely, now truly furious. As he head-butted Mantis and grabbed the gauntlet before it could fully leave his hand, the Soul Stone flew off of it and into Y/N’s palm. Her hand firmly enclosed around it before anyone could notice. She had never held a Stone like this before, she could feel every ounce of energy it was pouring into her.

As the fight ensued, Tony grabbed Y/N and flew her behind a large wall. His helmet disappeared as he searched her. He cupped her cheeks.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” she responded with a nod. “And look…” she opened her hand and the Soul Stone hovered over her palm.

“That’s my girl. Now, you need to go.”

“What?”

“You need to create a portal and go find Steve and the others.”

“No. I can’t leave you,” she responded, a lump forming in her throat as she shook her head. “Plus, Earth’s too far.”

“Yes, you can.” He tried to give her an encouraging smile. “Thanos has the Space Stone still, channel it.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” Tony pulled Y/N in for a tender kiss. “I love you. So much.”

“Tony—“

“I know I hurt you and that we’ve both been stupid. And I know that you haven’t made your decision yet. But I love you. Forever and always. If we survive this, I promise to spend every day showing you just how much I love you.” He pulled her in for one last kiss. “Now, go.” He stood up, walking backwards, heading back into the fight. “Go!”

Tears falling to her cheeks, Y/N took a shaky breath as she watched Tony fly back into the fight. Cupping the Soul Stone between her hands, she closed her eyes and focused on the Space Stone.

~~~

Shuri and Vision had been left in the lab with only a few guards. Shuri was frantically working to reprogram Vision so that he could live without the Mind Stone. But it wasn’t going fast enough. A giant alien killed one of the guards just outside the lab, alerting Shuri to an issue. She began to hastily disconnect her equipment from Vision. The guards engaged with the alien, only to be sent skidding across the floor. 

After Shuri finished her shutdowns, she grabbed one of her sonic panther paws and fired at the alien. The guards got back up and attacked again as she did so. The alien sent the guards and Shuri through the balcony railing and onto the main lab floor. 

Y/N appeared, cheeks still fresh with tears, in the lab. She quickly took in what was happening and ran to help Shuri off the floor.

“Y/N?” Shuri questioned. “Where have you been?”

“Long story,” Y/N answered. “But I brought something with me.” She revealed the Soul Stone in her palm. “I need Wanda. We can destroy it together.”

Before Shuri could respond, they heard Vision cry out. 

“Here!” Shuri said, placed a comm in Y/N’s hand. “You’ll need this.”

With a small, grateful smile, Y/N put the comms device in her ear and shoved the Stone in her pocket. Running up to the balcony part where Vision was suppose to be, she heard glass breaking. Reaching the floor, Y/N saw that the alien and Vision had crashed out of the window and down the face of the mountain.

“Guys, we got a Vision situation here!” Sam warned over the comms.

“Somebody get to Vision!” Steve ordered.

“I got him!” Bruce responded.

“Not if I get there first,” Y/N replied.

“Y/N?!” A chorus of voices filled her ear.

“Doll, where are you?” Bucky immediately asked. “And where the hell have you been?”

“Not really the time,” she answered. 

“Is Tony with you?” Rhodey asked.

“He’s keeping Thanos occupied. The more important thing though is we now have two Stones instead of just one.”

“You have another Stone?” Steve asked. “Destroy it! Now!”

“I’m gonna need Wanda’s help.”

“On my way,” Wanda replied, but crashes were heard from her end.

“Just try Y/N!” Steve continued. “Do it!”

“I don’t—“

“Y/N,” Bucky calmly called. “You can do this.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath and slowly got onto her knees. With a trembling hand, she retrieved the Soul Stone from her pocket. The Soul Stone floated above her palm, effortlessly. She then moved her hands and the Stone so that it was floating in-between them. Focusing her power onto the Stone, she closed her eyes. Her hands were shaking at the power coursing through him and out onto the Stone. Eventually, her hands calmed and her power stopped. Slowly, Y/N opened her eyes. Only to quickly realize, she wasn’t in Wakanda anymore.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

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