#<- said strain when i meant rein

[shamemp3]

not to have an inception fan moment but to be a forger (such as eames) and constantly change your entire identity and become a whole other person even down to the details such as posture and gestures and expressions and habits and quirks etc etc you must be one of two things: you either know yourself so well and are so anchored to your identity and aware of yourself and who you are and have an unchanging sense of self, for the most part, so that even if you forge you always have the same identity to come back to, or you must be the complete opposite which is you dont know yourself whatsoever and you have no stable sense of identity and you are several pieces of people that have not come together to make one person & therefore are comfortable flitting through different characters and embodying each of them with such commitment bc you have no self to return to anyways so what is there to worry about ? and i think both options r terrifying

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐃𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Opulence was so readily and freely available to you in your lifestyle, and you had your love to thank for that. Of course, that meant you were going to find him the most dashing present, and spend a fortune on it, whether he liked the pop of colour, or not.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✦ Mafia!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ✦ 1.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✦ Fluff, Princess takes care of Bucky

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✦ Just some much needed softness for my boy.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ✦ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞, 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Christmas was a time for you to let your hair down, and for every year before you had met Bucky, that was exactly what you did. Since this was the first Christmas with Bucky, however, you planned on doing the opposite; pairing it back and reining in the festivities. 

He had vehemently insisted that you could do whatever you wanted, going as far to give you his whole wallet and telling you to get out of the penthouse and have fun, but you refused. 

Only on the basis that you already had your fun.

Bucky’s present was hung, hidden, in one of the spare bedroom’s closets. A luxurious suit, tailored to Bucky’s measurements — thanks to the sneaky idea of using his usual tailor — in pressed cashmere in the colours of deep reds and maroons. They lacked subtlety, but the Christmas vibe from the paired colours was just what you were after. 

He needed more colour in his life, you reasoned. 

The click of the lock on the front door made you look up from your phone, where you were mindlessly scrolling. “Baby? Where are you?” Bucky called, his voice strained. 

You frowned and answered, “In the study.”

His footsteps sounded slow and deliberately heavy, ladened with the weight of the day. You placed your phone down on the side table and looked at the doorway just as he appeared — exhaustion clung to his built frame, the slump of his shoulders and lack of his signature smirk when his gaze focused on you was all you needed to know to realise that it had been a rough day. 

“Are you alright–?”

Bucky shook his head once, and sighed. “Shit day. Shit people.”

You got to your feet and went to the small bar, just next to the opulent electric fireplace, and you pointed at the wine in the small fridge — one that was normally reserved for special occasions. “Do you want one, handsome?”  

“Yeah,” he answered tiredly, rubbing his face with his right hand as he fell onto the loveseat. “Why the fuck not.”

The small Christmas tree on the opposite side of the bar gleamed in the firelight, the reds and golds patterned with ambers and oranges of the flames as you poured two glasses full. “Did you want to talk about it?” you ventured, glancing up from the glass to his face, and you caught the minute shake of his head. “Okay—it’s up to you babe.”

You couldn’t take the deep frown of contemplation on his lips, the furrow of his brow that aged him — the ache of your heart deep the longer it was there. It was heart wrenching to see, and you decided enough was enough. 

The surprise for Christmas that you had worked hard on was just going to be early; his smile would make all of it worth it. 

“How was your day, doll?” Bucky asked quietly, sipping at the wine. His eyes sparkled as he looked at you this time, and you smiled softly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t message as much–”

“Don’t you worry, babe,” you rushed, grabbing his hand. “I had a good day—nothing eventful, thankfully.” The skin of his right hand was callused and warm; scarred from knives and triggers alike. “I actually have a surprise for you.”

Bucky blinked. “Okay, now that’s a shock.”

“Don’t be so surprised, wow,” you teased, and he chuckled. “Now, you wait here. And close your eyes.” The wine glass in your other hand made a small thud when you put it down on the side table. “I mean it,” you said, getting to your feet. “Close them. Now.”

He raised a brow in challenge as you walked backwards out of the door, and you pointed at him. “Do as you’re told.”

“Whatever,” Bucky groaned. He threw his head back over the ornate carved frame of the loveseat, then he put an arm over his eyes. “I’ll just have a nap, ‘kay?”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes before you walked to the closet that held the suit. The fabric of the garment cover was scratchy against your arm, but you powered through to walk back to the study — an otherwise silent space, if you discounted the low mutters and curses in Russian coming from the slumped figure of your love. 

Your heart broke at the sight. If Bucky outright refused to tell you what had happened that day, you knew it was a dark, dangerous topic, and you wouldn’t push, but it did not stop the longing you held to help lessen the burden on his shoulders. 

“Buck–?” you said quietly, and his shoulders straightened. “Are your eyes closed?”

“Yeah,” he answered.

You rounded the loveseat to find him sitting comfortably, thighs spread and hands relaxed either side of them. “Okay,’ you ventured, moving to stand in front of him. The rustling noises of the cover made you sure he had already guessed what you had brought in — at least he at least didn’t know for certain, not yet, you assured yourself. “Open your eyes.”

Bright, clear eyes met yours, and then they glanced down at your gathered bounty. “Oh–” His hands twitched as he reached out to unzip the cover, and he beamed at seeing the red and maroon fabric. “Baby—what the–?”

“I thought you needed something that’s not black, and something that’s Christmassy,” you explained, smiling down at him. “And your lovely tailor helped me get it together. It’s why I haven’t gone out at all, because I had all of what I wanted to get right here.”

“Oh, baby girl,” Bucky breathed, running his fingers over the fabric. “This is beautiful. Hang on.” 

You watched him get to his feet and straighten his shirt. “Unzip it for me?” he asked, fiddling with his cuffs. “I want to wear what my girl got me—‘cause she’s got amazing taste.”

Heat crept up your neck at his praise, but you unzipped the cover with haste and you held the shoulders of the suit carefully. Bucky offered his arm and you slipped his arm through the sleeve, then the other; careful of the breadth of his biceps and shoulders. The suit shuffled and creased as Bucky shucked it up his frame, and it settled perfectly on his shoulders. “Damn, Princess.’

A beaming grin split your cheeks as you watched him turn to face you. The deep red and maroon made his eyes pop with colour, and his tattoos deepened with the contrast. He looked truly beautiful. “Holy shit, babe,” you breathed. “You look—fuck, you look so handsome; dashing.” 

Bucky grinned at you, and pulled you close. “Why, thank you, baby girl,” he purred, and he kissed you on the corner of your mouth. “Now, I need to find you a dress to match.”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[dooplissss]

i saw your tags on that post, can you tell me about the homestuck quadrants? i was hugely into homestuck like 10 years ago but i’ve forgotten almost everything. i want to remember the ancient ways

* cracks knuckles >:) *

Matesprit ❤️ is easy, its just what humans see as romance and true love etc. One of the two reproductive quadrants, yadda yadda you get it.

Examples: - Morticia <3 Gomez - Ruby <3 Sapphire - Darcy <3 Elizabeth, with arguably some grey/black romance thru the story but thats what makes it so enduring

Moirails ♦️ is my personal favorite quadrant and is fairly straightforward, tho the canon definition is different from fanon. In fanon, its interpreted basically as best friends/queerplatonic, which, yeah, can and usually does happen with that proximity and thats why I love it, but in canon its more a power balance to prevent violence and death, typically with one figure reining back a more chaotic one. When applying to humans and other fandoms tho its better to lean toward the slightly fanon interpretation since Alternia's violent culture is so different from ours.

Examples: - Nepeta <> Equius - Aziraphale <> Crowley (obvi the situation is changing but lets leave this here) - Dean <> Castiel (obvi i'm team matesprit but canonically they belong here up til cas declares his love) - Joel <> Ellie (this is a strictly platonic quadrant dw) - Caleb <> Nott/Veth (I want to shake liam and sam so bad and explain that the relationship they were looking for was right here and they didnt have to awkwardly choose between romance and friendship)

Auspictice ♣️is the one everyone gets wrong and drives me the most insane. It's a tricky and very specific balancing dynamic thats hard to find, except maybe on the CW. Canonically, its a group of three people, two (left and right leaves) want to outright kill each other. This does not make them kismesis, I cannot stress that enough, kismesis don't want each other dead, but we'll get there in a sec. The third person is meant to prevent them from killing each other, being the mediator. Its rare for this dynamic to not be outright toxic, esp in human examples, but its a healthy option on Alternia to prevent unnecessary murder. I think this dynamic is meant to be temporary tho, even in that culture, as it weighs on the mediator a lot.

Examples: - Eridan <3< Sollux ^ Feferi, unfortunately unsuccessful showing how difficult and straining this relationship type is (also everyone who said eridan and sollux were kismesis owes me $5, I'll become a millionaire instantly) - Edward <3< Jacob ^ Bella - Pearl <3< Greg ^ Steven, a happy ending example of an auspictice (ignore the ptsd)

Kismesis ♠️is. man where do I begin. its so good. its such a fun dynamic, especially when you have a pairing that gets it just right. Kismesis is perfect enemies, arch-rivals that share a mutual respect and drive each other to improve themselves to better outwit their opponent. Its when a captain sees one of their ships on fire and smiles, knowing just who did it. Its tipping your opponents head up by the tip of a sword. Its the bad guy showing up at your doorstep because theres no one else they trust more than their greatest nemesis. Its the other reproductive quadrant because its just as deep and passionate as true love, and it can in fact switch between love and hate very easily and often.

Examples: - Quark <3< Odo (imo the BEST non-homestuck example) - Batman <3< Joker (friend hates when i say this but i'm right, esp with lego batman) - Xavier <3< Magneto - Light <3< L - God <3< Satan, why not lmao

I wish homestuck was seen as less cringe bc the quadrants are SOOO FUN to apply to ships and dynamics in other fandoms and contexts. At the same time, people get the quadrants wrong constantly, especially between kismesis and auspictice. And the quadrants aren't static, you don't have to lock a ship in just one forever! feelings change and very easily turn from black to red to black again, its all so complicated and fun to watch.

Hope all this makes sense lmao, thanks for the ask!

[queenhunter102]

Part 9

Part 8 Content warning: there is a brief talk of orgasms and the frustrations of not orgasming.

You limp your way around the washroom, often grasping at the ledges to breathe. You grunt a little as you try to stretch and dislodge the feeling of weary and aching bones. You push off the ledge, trying to gain momentum to push yourself to the pile of wet clothes in the water basin. You sink to your knees, using the edge of the water basin as leverage gently. You pick up each item of clothing and sort them between each house member. As you went, you counted who needed to be given higher priority than the others. You rolled your eyes when you saw it was Aegon. Of course, it was the drunken fool. You gathered his clothes as best as you could, pulling them into an empty basket and using your feet pushing the basket across the floor with out you having to stand, you froze when you heard a voice. “Wilding! Get off the floor this instance,” it boomed; you closed your eyes as you hoped, you prayed that it was not who you thought it was, but when you finally opened your eyes and found Taryn marching his way to you when he finally reached you, you half expected him to yank you to your feet. But he took hold of both of your arms firmly and gently pulled you to your feet, using both hands to steady you before he let go. “The maester has instructed that you must not perform on your knees,” he said, eyeing the basket you had previously been pushing across the floor. “What had you been doing?” Taryn asked, turning his back to you. I was attempting not to strain my injuries,” you said, taking the stance you were taught to do, head down, hands behind your back. It was uncomfortable with your injuries. “DO NOT STAND LIKE THAT!” Taryn snapped, giving both of your arms a light slap, “It will do no good for your injuries, " he said, picking up the basket of wet clothes and bringing them to the drying rack. He put the basket on the floor before pulling each item of clothing out and hanging them to dry. You had never seen Taryn act so kind to you or show you much concern. You had heard rumours that he protected the servants despite his rough exterior and harsh words. “I presume you will not say who attacked you,” he asked as he hung one of Aegon’s Tunics. “I was not attacked, Sir; I simply missed a step”, you say, not wishing to receive a beating for informing Taryn of what had happened. Taryn only hummed as he pulled one of Aegon’s trousers and hung it closer to the fire. “Yes, and Prince Daemon is King,” he said dryly. You knew what he meant; he knew you were lying, but you stood firm in your lie to him; you did not wish to seek further punishment. “Was it a lord?” he asked, his head barely being seen over the clothing line. When you did not answer, he asked, “A lady perhaps?” Again, you said nothing, refusing to give him anything. You could see his head tilting side to side. “Was it one of the girls? One…one of my servants?” he asked hesitantly. You shifted then almost instinctively. When you had done that, Taryn stopped asking questions. He just finished hanging Aegon’s clothes in silence, and when he was done, he brought the empty basket to you and filled it with more wet clothing. “I will have justice for what was done. I do not permit fighting with my servants, despite my view on where some of them come from,” he said, taking the now-filled basket and placing it by the fire before leaving. Aemond was blood thirsty on the training field, Aegon could tell it was from not seeing their sweet mouse, that delicate little thing, Aegon winced as he watched Aemond nearly run a poor attendant through with his sword, hardly stopping when Sir Cole stepped in between the pair trying to turn Aemond’s wrath away.

“Brother, come, let us walk,” Aegon called. He had become bored this hour ago, but not his brother, no, not Aemond. That man would get himself killed if he or their little mouse did not rein him in. Aemond just grunted as he threw his sword down. A look of anger and tension-filled his already scowling face. “Where are they? Hmm, it has been almost two months! TWO….” Aemond paused and breathed as he approached Aegon, his jaw tense and looking rather painful. “Aegon, it has been too long since I have seen them… smelled them,” Aemond said, almost pained. Aegon would laugh at his brother's pathetic state if he did not understand what his brother felt. It had been too long since you were last spotted by the pair. But by the gods, could they hear you moving around or smell that sweet scent of yours, lingering in the halls, but no matter who they spoke to, no matter their method, you had just vanished into thin air, like a sweet dream that faded the fast one woke. “I know, brother. We should find something else to occupy our time,” Aegon said. He knew what the answer would be, and he agreed, but he had become frustrated in the same way he imagined his brother was. Aegon had been unable to finish, unable to reach his peak. He knew his brother was experiencing the same thing. Aegon pulled away sharply when his brother pulled his dagger from his pocket and charged at him, a crazed look in his eye; he dodged him, sliding back away from him, “It was only an offer, brother” Aegon said, as he rushed off to the stairs Aemond chasing after him, “Do not offer such a choice, brother” Aemond grunted.

Taglist: prettykinkysou

Remember: leaving a like, re-blogging, and commenting helps in this world and encourages more. See you around, my little loves.

[lace--space]

Passing moments (Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin)

summary: Octavia takes Bellamy on a horse ride to discuss his grief of Gina and his love for Clarke. Bellamy decides to seek Clarke out and find out what the two of them could be.

Wordcount: 900+

It ached. Bellamy noticed his chest ached for her. In the months he’d known Gina, he had fallen hard for her. And now she is gone. Bellamy didn’t know how to deal with this. He felt choked, like he couldn’t breathe. Tears right there at the back of his eyes, but they would not fall. The remembrance was months ago, but the pain was still there. 

Bellamy searched out his sister. Knowing she could possibly help him with his feelings. “Hey, O!” He said as he walked into the stables. A head popped up in a stall right by him. “Bellamy.” She said happily. “I’m glad to see you. You’ve been gone most of this week.” Octavia had walked over to him and given him a hug, hay pieces stuck in her hair. “What’s up, you look upset?” He shook his head. “Just thinking of Gina.” She gave him a soft smile. 

“You know, I don’t mean to be insensitive but I think you should get back in the saddle.” She walked one of the horses out of its stall. “Maybe literally.” “You want me to-” He motioned towards the horse. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I want you to do.” “No,” Bellamy started, “No way. Do you see how big this thing is?”  “This thing is a horse.” She stated matter of factly. “And I think if we take a ride, some of your problems might get solved.” He looked at Octavia incredulous. “Come on. Give it a shot.” Bellamy heaved a sigh. “Fine. Fine I’ll go with you.” He finally agreed. 

Octavia helped Bellamy up on a horse, Bellamy searched for balance, legs tightening around the horse's belly, hands strained on the reins, until he felt secure. Octavia jumped on her own horse, much more smoothly than Bellamy had. “Where are we going?” Bellamy asked curiously. “Nowhere in particular. We’re just taking the horses for a ride.” He nodded at that. 

“I thought you said I needed to get back in the saddle.” “You do. But I meant that you should start dating again.” “Oh.” Bellamy muttered. “I don’t know, O. I don’t think I’m over Gina yet.”  “You’ll never fully get over her. To you she’s the one that should have been, you didn’t have time where you fell out of love with her, she was ripped away from you. But if I know Gina, and I do, she would want you to move on.” “I don’t know. Who would I even date?” Octavia snorted. “You’re kidding, right?” Bellamy looked at her with a blank face. “Oh, you aren’t. Okay. Well, apparently you don’t know, but I’m a hundred percent sure that Clarke is head over heels for you.” 

“What do you mean?” “You are so dense sometimes.” Octavia shook her head. “Have you really not noticed that whenever Clarke looks at you, she stares in your eyes just a while longer, pretty sure she thinks the earth might explode if she doesn’t.” “Really?” Bellamy asks shyly. “She radioed you every day for six years. You, not Raven, not Monty, you!” “I mean, I like Clarke.” Bellamy stated. “A lot. I don’t want to see her go on missions without me, I’ll do anything to protect her. I can’t make a big decision without involving her in it.” Octavia’s eyebrows rose up. “What?” Bellamy asked. “I’m pretty sure you know what you should do.” 

Bellamy nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right. Can we turn back now? My ass is killing me.” Octavia laughed. “Sure, as long as you go talk to Clarke when we get back.” 

Bellamy couldn’t get off the horse fast enough once they reached the stables. “I will never get on one of those again.” “Yeah, yeah. Go find Clarke.” 

And that’s what he did. He searched inside the Ark, in her tent, around the mechanical shop. He thought she might be there, because she would hang out with Raven when she didn’t have to worry about the grounders. Or even when she did. “Hey Raven, have you seen Clarke?” Bellamy asked as she came into view. Behind her Murphy followed her with scrap parts for the jeeps. “Uh, not since this morning, no.” Bellamy turned to Murphy. “Don’t ask me, I’ve been hauling parts around here, I haven’t even gone outside today yet.” “You’re no use.” Bellamy said, playfully slapping the back of his head. “Hey, watch it. If I drop these Raven’s going to kill me.” 

He finally found her just outside the gate, using binoculars to scoop out the tree line. “Hey.” Bellamy bumped their shoulders together. Now his nerves settled in. Night had fallen and a shiver ran down Clarke’s spine. She laid her head down on Bellamy's shoulder. Searching for a little bit of warmth. “I could stay like this forever.” She murmured. Bellamy’s heart fluttered. “Clarke,” He started, his hand taking a hold of hers, rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand. “I’ve been struggling with Gina’s death lately.” “Of course you are. She was your girlfriend and she was ripped away from you.” “Yeah, but my mind keeps going back to you. To everything we’ve done together or for each other. You know, it’s you, “ He swallowed thickly. “It’s always been you.” 

Clarke lifted her head from his shoulder and grabbed his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. It was slow at first, but got more heated with every passing second. Bellamy grasped at her hips, his mouth hungry for hers. He pushed her up against the outer fence of Arkadia. The fence bounced back and made both of them laugh against each other's lips. “What do you say if we continue this in my tent?” Clarke breathed. Bellamy grabbed her hand and pulled her into Arkadia in search of her tent.

[lizpaige]

delilah green sirius black doesn't care [wip] part one | part two

“Well, I’d appreciate you throwing me a bone here. I’m not very good at this.”

“This?”

Remus sighed, cheeks burning. “Flirting.”

“Is this you flirting with me?” 

Remus was going to die of embarrassment. He looked down and bit the inside of his cheek, about to turn to leave, when he felt a hand on his forearm. He followed the trail of ink to the man’s face, nearly missing the wink he threw at him.

“I’m kidding,” the man assured him with a smile. “I know exactly what’s going on here.” 

“You do?” Remus replied a bit dumbstruck, caught in the man’s piercing gaze. “So you’re…”

The man leaned forward, his knee brushing Remus’ thigh, his lips brushing his ear. Remus’ breath was shallow, hitching at each point and moment of contact. “I am,” the man whispered. 

Remus closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat, letting out a breathy, nervous laugh. “That’s um… good,” he began. “Good to know, I mean.”

The man pulled back, but only just. Remus could feel his warm breath fan over his cheeks, smokey from the whiskey. The man’s eyes were dark, his pupils were dilated, no doubt matching Remus’ own. “Is it?” 

Remus felt his cheeks burn; he sheepishly looked down, surprised that this seemed to be going so well. He was about to say something more when he heard a familiar voice behind him, back toward where Peter was sitting. 

“Where’s Remus? Is he stuck babysitting again?” Regulus asked, standing beside Peter and taking Remus’ abandoned glass from the table and downing the rest of it. 

Remus turned his attention back to the main, who was also following the commotion behind them. “That’s my, um, friend,” Remus explained. “He’s getting married in two weeks. Bit on edge.”

“Oh yeah?” the man replied, leaning back and away from Remus, who pathetically missed the contact already. 

“Yeah,” Remus continued, pausing to take a nervous sip of his whiskey. “He’s marrying a real… well, she doesn’t seem that great.” 

The stranger’s eyes widened and he smiled knowingly. “Oh no?” 

“No, well… me and Pete don’t really like her, but he’s our friend so…”

He heard Regulus’ voice, a bit raised and aggravated, float over from behind them. “You’ll never believe what my brother did,” he ranted. “Well, no, you probably will. It’s just like him to…”

Regulus’ brother, Sirius, moved away from Godric’s Hollow as soon as he graduated high school. He was a year older than them, but they lived in a small town, so there was no escaping the Black brother feud. Sirius was different from his family, he always had been, and he, in Remus’ eyes, was the only one brave enough to question his parents’ strict and frankly ridiculous standards. When Orion Black, their father, died of a heart attack, their mother only seemed to tighten the reins. Regulus didn’t understand why his brother couldn’t just play along, why he always had to go against the grain. Their relationship was strained at best, a tumultuous fiery disaster at worst. So when Sirius moved away, Regulus didn’t talk much of Sirius to Peter or Remus, but they knew he missed him. Deep down… somewhere.

Remus hadn’t seen Sirius for ten years or so. He knew he was meant to be coming to Godric’s Hollow for the wedding festivities. The Blacks were always trying to keep up appearances, but Remus sort of thought that Regulus secretly wanted his brother to be there for him. Not that he would ever accuse him of that out loud.

The last he heard about Sirius, he was off in New York as a fairly successful photographer. He may or may not have googled his photos that was showcased at a few small galleries in Brooklyn last year. Still, he hadn’t seen Sirius since they were kids and…

Remus’ eyes shot down to the suitcase and back up to those familiar gray eyes. “Wait…”

“There you are Remus,” Regulus said, clasping a hand on his shoulder, but as he approached he caught sight of… “What are you doing here?” his voice was tight. 

“Hello, brother,” Sirius grinned.

[youllallriseintheink]

In Her Code, chapter 1: A Protective Shell

This is a story about Elizabeth Afton/Circus Baby’s experience as an animatronic and what it means for her nature and her free will. It will go into why the animatronics are the way they are.

It will have one more chapter, a more action-oriented than this one, coming out within the next five days.

---

Time tended to lose meaning to Elizabeth Afton. The clock ticked. The computer buzzed. Those were essentially the only forms of simulation in this room she could not leave.

It had been a long time since William had come to visit her. Usually, he came in at least once a week to do maintenance on her, as well as the android meant to resemble her little brother. He promised that he would get them out of there one day. That she would have an android, too, and he would learn to put her soul in it, and her brother’s soul in his, and they’d go home and be a happy family again. But according to the digital calendar on the computer monitor, William hadn’t been here in weeks. He’d abandoned her.

The door opened, and William stepped in, carrying with him a variety of machine maintenance supplies. “Hey, Liz,” he said, an apologetic tone to his voice. “So sorry to leave you, honey. Michael… well, he dragged me into this two-month court case in another state, and I haven’t really had time to pop over here.” He put down the supplies and walked over to stroke her arm. “God, I never should have put him before you. If I’d just had my priorities straight, this wouldn’t have happened. Let me just clean Evan up here, and then I have something important to tell you.”

He turned to the Evan android and whistled as he went about its weekly maintenance ritual, wiping off the accumulated dust and debris, combing his hair, changing his clothes, and opening his chest cavity to check that all the mechanical bits were in place, all with a tenderness that William wouldn’t show to the average machine. Then, William turned his attention to Elizabeth.

Not bothering to rein in her impulse to slaughter him, Elizabeth strained against the metal restraints. The first few times she’d felt that impulse, she’d fought it, but now she knew that the restraints would do it for her, keeping her chained tight to her metal gurney. How convenient. How thoughtful of her father to do this so she could at least stay on free-roaming mode and thus move her eyes and hands instead of being entirely immobile.

“You’re not going to be here much longer,” William promised as he got her upright and started polishing.

Elizabeth’s heart fluttered. Her voice was disabled at the moment, but she made sure to focus her eyes on him so that he’d know she understood.

“I completed the rest of the Funtime Animatronics. I’m going to start renting them out, which means you’re going with them to a new warehouse.”

Her heart sank again. It seemed she’d be in this robotic body a bit longer. Or a lot longer.

William took a break from polishing her to stroke her cheek and look her in the eyes. “I promise, I will get you out of there, sweetheart. It’s just a difficult process. And hey, at least this way you’ll have some friends. Alright?” he gave her what was probably supposed to be an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

After Elizabeth’s maintenance, William disabled her motor functions and put her on a gurney, with which she was taken to a crate and then taken on a short, bumpy ride by vehicle. When she was let out of her crate, she found herself in a dimly lit, almost empty warehouse with three beautiful stages in it. On one of them, there was a beautiful ballerina animatronic. On another was a pink and white Freddy animatronic with a little Bonnie hand puppet. The third had a pink and white fox animatronic on it. Before her transformation, Liz would have considered a place like this to be a dream come true. Even now, she thought it was very pretty indeed.

William stepped beside her. “Welcome home, Elizabeth. I’ll have the guys move Funtime Freddy so that you can have center stage. And here,” William opened up her face panel and pressed a button, finally allowing her to move and talk again.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said. She felt like she ought to have a million questions, but she couldn’t think of a single one. They’d spoken before, using a computer monitor on which her dad could read her code as well as the messages she sent him. From those talks, she knew that he didn’t know when he’d get her out of there, but he was working on it. He didn’t know why the robot had been able to kill her, or why being in the robot was giving her murderous thoughts. He was as in the dark as she was in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Glad to finally make you more comfortable. Now, just get onto your stage whenever you’re meant to be transported, and don’t talk about being Elizabeth Afton. The guys in transportation will put you in performance mode whenever you’re being rented out, so you don’t have to worry about working on your material or anything. Just sit back and enjoy. You’ll be getting some friends here, too, soon enough- more people I’ll save one day.”

Liz nodded. The two hugged, the claw in Liz’s stomach just itching to strike out and stuff him inside her. Then, William left.

It was a few nights later when Ballora began moving on its own. Liz had been practicing her singing when it happened- she’d never been much for music as a human, but for some reason, “practicing her material” had become a passion of hers. Her practice was cut short when she noticed Ballora’s eyes light up green. She rushed over as fast as her stiff, heavy legs could carry her. Was this a new person? Someone else who had died from the animatronics?

Ballora saw Baby and ran towards her, immediately grabbing her arm. It cocked its head, seemingly wanting to say something but incapable of it. Then, the eyes went dark. Liz watched as the eyes of Funtime Foxy lit up green and went out again, followed by Funtime Freddy’s.

“Finally, one that can talk!” Freddy exclaimed. He turned his attention to Liz. “You’re possessed. What is your name?”

“Liz,” Liz answered. That seemed to sadden Freddy quite a bit.

“Oh. I’m sorry… I should have been there.”

Confusing words aside, there was something childlike in the robot’s manner of speaking. Liz was thoroughly unsettled. “Why? How do you know me? How can you move from robot to robot like that?”

“Oh, that? It’s my ability. Every ghost has an ability. Mine is I can possess other things. I still have to go back to the Puppet eventually, though. And how I know you? We were friends when we were alive. I don’t remember my name. But we played dress-up together! You and your little brother and my dad.”

Liz was shocked. It couldn’t be. “Charlie…?”

“Yes! I think. Maybe.”

Liz supposed it made sense. Charlie had died close to one of her father’s restaurants, and it seemed that anyone who died by an animatronic came to possess one. It was still strange to hear her words in Funtime Freddy’s rough, male voice, though. “Does that mean that an animatronic killed you, too?”

The question seemed to alarm Charlie. “No. But I’ll get to that later. For now, I’d like to tell you about your brother... Oh, do you remember his name? Animatronic minds aren’t made for remembering. He doesn’t remember either, anymore.”

“Evan. His name was Evan. Dad said we have his soul in Golden Freddy.”

“Yep! You see, I spent a long time looking out for your brother where I could. I like using my power to look around and see where I can help, especially if it’s my friends. I would have helped you, too, but you weren’t carrying around a robot teddy bear that could talk. I was with him when he died, and so I guided his soul somewhere it would be safe. I put him in Golden Freddy. He gets put on free-roaming mode every night, and he has friends now! He even gets to share Golden Freddy with a girl named Cassidy.”

“Ha. Well, I guess that’s about as good as it gets for an animatronic.” Elizabeth paused. “Charlie… do you know why I’ve loved the thought of killing ever since I became an animatronic? It doesn’t feel like anger. It feels more like a part of my code. Something I’m meant to do. I don’t understand it at all.”

Funtime Freddy's ears drooped, and Liz got the sense that he was about tell her something very hard to admit. “It is a part of your code. Every animatronic can kill and hide bodies. It’s how they’re made. The same way we want to entertain, we want to kill. I do, too.”

“But why? Why would we be built for that?”

“Because your dad is a murderer. He killed me. Before I could even tie my own shoes.”

Liz was stunned. “No. No, no my dad would never do that. Especially not to you! Henry was his best friend. He talked all the time about how much Henry misses you. You said that animatronics don’t remember well. You must be misremembering.”

“I could be misremembering my own murder. But only a few months ago, I saw him kill five more children right before my eyes.”

“I see…” Elizabeth took a moment to process that. Could an animatronic forget in a few months? “Wait. You said that you have violent desires, too. But you’re in the Puppet. My dad didn’t make the Puppet, yours did. Maybe he’s the one-”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “No. The Puppet is not designed for anger. The Puppet is designed to protect. That’s why I put the others in bodies that would make them want to protect themselves. Big, strong bodies made to kill people with teeth and claws!” Charlie raised her arms and bared her claws, like a child pretending to be a bear. “Even Evan wants to kill now, ‘cause he’s been sharing a mind with a killing machine. I’m the only animatronic whose anger comes from me and only me.” Charlie’s gaze softened. “I have to go now. My old body is pulling me back. Hope you can accept all this. See you soon!” Charlie chirped.

With that, Funtime Freddy’s eyes lost their green glow.

---

One thing Liz didn’t lack for in her auditorium was time to think. And, unfortunately, a little thought was all it took to make Charlie’s claims seem reasonable. Liz remembered the night she’d been killed- she’d come to Circus Baby for comfort because her dad had gone missing. The night before that, she’d overheard her dad and her older brother talking about lying to the police.

Her dad was a murderer. Did that mean that she was destined to be a murderer, too? Days went by. She was rented out, and as her body went through the motions at kids’ parties, she felt her inner claw scratching for release like a cat pawing at the door. It made sense when it was her father- she’d been angry with him even before her death. But children? Maintenance workers? The random man who packed her up for each party, with his flannels and weird moustache and Utah Grizzlies baseball cap? She had no anger against them. And yet she liked the idea of seeing their blood. And if even sweet, lamb-to-slaughter Evan had gone violent, what chance did she have?

[four-loose-screws]

FE7 Novelization Translation - Chapter 8 Section 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations

If you are interested in donating to support my work, please check out my Ko-fi here. Thank you!

———————————

Chapter 8: Noble Lady of Caelin (Section 2)

“General Bauker! We have spotted something in the skies to the south!” A Laus soldier reported to his commanding officer, who was fortifying the defense in front of the castle gate.

The general was a knight encased in heavy armor. When he noticed the soldier coming his way, he momentarily stopped giving out orders to the guard. “...It’s a pegasus knight?! They just passed over the forest. Where are they headed?”

At his soldier’s report, Bauker strained his eyes and looked to the south. There, just as his soldier had said, was a single pegasus knight moving at a breakneck speed, so fast he could tell they were in a rush even from this far away.

“Then spread the word that no one is to escape Caelin territory. Archer unit, march! Shoot them down immediately!!”

Bauker was a stern man who carried out all orders given to him, and was trusted deeply by Marquess Laus, who had made him the commanding officer of the Imperial Guard. Whenever there were orders given to him to be carried out, he immediately accepted them, and handed his subordinates their own orders.

ー

“...Cross the forest to leave Laus, and head north… then…" Florina said to cheer on her steed as they flew through the air like a gust of wind.

She was doing something all on her own for Lyn’s sake… If it had been one year ago, she wouldn’t have been able to even imagine herself doing something like this. Even if she wanted to, her body would not have moved. Her shy and cowardly personality held her back.

But now, she was different. Those days one year ago when she fought to help Lyn… the times that were long past, but she still remembered so vividly… they had caused her to grow so much.

As she flew the skies above the forest, she saw not Laus soldiers, but a unit she did not recognize. “...Who are they? They aren’t showing an insignia anywhere…”

But the moment she got a clear view of their vanguard, she broke out into a smile. “That’s… Lord Eliwood! He’s come to save Caelin…! Oh, thank goodness!”

This meant that Lyn and the others were saved. 

As she patted her chest in relief, she started to descend down towards where Eliwood was standing. 

“Lord Eliwood!” She called out.

That was also the same moment that Bauker's archers were all ordered to shoot at the same time.

“Florina! Beneath you!!”

“Eh? Ah, eeeeek!!!”

At Eliwood’s warning, she noticed the countless arrows flying straight towards her. In that moment, she shrieked and reflexively pulled on the reins, shifting into an evasive maneuver. In their desperation to try and avoid the oncoming arrows, her pegasus was forced to change his angle in the air. 

A split second later, her field of vision rotated 180 degrees. The recoil of the sudden movement to avoid the arrows had caused Florina’s body to dangle from and be thrown off his back.

The moment she was forced into the air, she lost consciousness.

ー

When she came to, the first voice she heard was that of the person she had been trying to reach.

“Florina! Are you awake? Are you okay? Are you injured?”

“Lord Eliwood…? I…”

“Archers shot at you. You successfully avoided their arrows, but lost your balance."

“...But I don’t seem to be injured. Even though I fell from that high…” Florina said with her eyes gazing blankly at the sky. Her mind was still fuzzy, and she couldn’t make much out. Yet she wasn't injured at all, and had been saved somehow, though she thought it all strange.

“Of course you aren’t! Because you fell on top of me!” A man who appeared next to Eliwood said with a sour look on his face.

He looked to be a full head taller than her, or perhaps even bigger. And his face, which looked a bit uncharacteristically young for someone so muscular, was covered in tiny scratches. He turned to look at Florina, clearly displeased.

Not only was this someone she didn’t know, but he was also a man, causing her to freeze up. Though she was doing much better than she had with men one year ago, it didn’t mean she was entirely used to them yet.

“Hector saved you.”

“I didn’t save her! She fell on top of me of her own accord!”

“Eek! I-I’m so sorry!!” At Hector’s loud voice, she instinctively shrunk back.

It was at that point that Eliwood explained how she fell to the ground.

He said that when she fell, she just so happened to land in his arms, but things did not go well even after that. Florina’s pegasus lost his sense of balance and teetered around in the air, trying his best not to fall on the ground. His course of flight was leading him towards Hector’s back.

He used Hector’s body like a stool to get himself back in the air, and managed to succeed in fixing his posture. Hector, on the other hand, having been stepped on, fell flat on his face. That was why he was covered in scratches.

The moment he toppled, Hector stretched his arms out as far as he could, taking care to make sure Florina did not get crushed beneath him, and she was able to come out of the whole ordeal without sustaining any injuries at all.

After hearing that entire explanation, her face turned bright red, and she said, “Ah, I really am sorry… What can I do to apologize…? I… I… Um…” She was so embarrassed that she felt as if her face was on fire.

Not only did they see her make so great a mistake as falling off her pegasus despite being a full-fledged knight, but they had to save her and her pegasus. She was both extremely embarrassed and sorry.

But when she started to apologize, Hector cut her off and said, "You don't need to apologize. More importantly, you came to tell us something, didn't you?!"

"Th-That's right!" She remembered why she had come here, and turned to face Eliwood in a panic. "Lord Eliwood!! Lady Lyndis is waiting in the forest close to here for a chance to attack the castle!"

"Lyndis? Thank goodness! She's safe!"

"Yes… but Lord Hausen was captured and is still in the castle…"

"Is he… Then we must go! We'll combine forces with Lyndis and save Marquess Caelin!!"

At Eliwood’s order, his entire unit raised their weapons and roared a mighty battle cry.

☆

[cassandrajoybellbittner]

Taken - Blue Moon Series - Chapter 16c

*Warning Adult Content*

Prince Gale Dartanyanoff

Now more than two hundred years later.

He had grown up from the wild bloodthirsty monster that he used to be into a being that enjoyed what he had and lived life to the fullest.

Even when Raina who was murdered by hunters a few years ago died, he stayed by his families side.

He may not have cared for the woman but his father and brother had taken it hard.

Her loss affected them so much that all he could do was watch the destructive paths and isolation they chose to follow.

Nicholas who used to be full of so much curiosity and smiles was an empty shell of himself.

And his father had been strict before had gripped the reins tighter on his rules.

He had zero tolerance for disobedience but he did let his sons slide from time to time.

Just watching them made Gale realize how important the people around you were.

Now he had two mates.

He would die if he were to ever lose them.

Now there was no denying that he wanted to mate with them.

He had hesitantly fed from Cyrus and it was amazing.

He knew that he could take Gale.

His blood was so tangy and sharp.

It shot a boost of adrenaline in him just from the taste.

Lakota, on the other hand, was no longer a wolf, he was a human now.

His past had been filled with countless human bodies that he had drained dry.

His hunger was still unstable after all these years.

Even after all his father's lessons, it was hard to break such an instinctual habit he had since childhood.

Lakota was vulnerable, more so now, then before and he still was wary of hurting him then.

The smell of Lakota was enticing and it took everything in him to keep himself at bay.

Lakota Bateman

"This is why I don't want to feed from you Lakota. I can be a monster and lose all self if I enjoy it too much. Just the thought of tasting you makes me shake with excitement and it scares the crap out of me," he finally finished, his eyes cast down.

Wow... I hadn't expected his past to be so hard.

It brought tears to my eyes.

I knew what it was like to try and survive every day with what you had.

I glanced over to Cyrus who I could tell was seeing Gale in a new light.

"I accept all of you Gale," I said moving to my hands and knees and crawling to him.

Placing myself in his lap I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close.

"You've accepted everything that is me, how could I not accept everything that is you."

Burying my fingers in his thick hair I held him tighter.

"I'm yours, Gale. I'm both yours to do with however you want," I whispered.

"You guys could chain me up in the cellar and I know for sure that all I would care about is seeing you coming through that door every time you decided to see me."

"Lakota," both exclaimed in disbelief and disgust at the thought and I smiled.

"All I'm saying is that I'm yours forever no matter what. If your survival meant losing mine for you to live? I'd gladly give my life for both of you."

"So drink from me Gale because I want you too. And if you happen to lose control, just know what I said. My life is yours to do with what you want."

Finally, I left the grip I had on his hair and leaned back to see his face.

"Dammit, Lakot," he whispered.

Tears were streaming down his face as he and he pulled me back so he could hide again.

Cyrus finally moved closer and leaned his back against us hiding his face too.

I laughed softly my throat tightening in the process.

"You guys are just a bunch of crybabies," I strained out as my own vision became a blurry mess.

"You're one to talk," they sobbed simultaneously. 

[worksinprogress1]

Time tended to lose meaning to Elizabeth Afton. The clock ticked. The computer buzzed. Those were essentially the only forms of simulation in this room she could not leave.

It had been a long time since William had come to visit her. Usually, he came in at least once a week to do maintenance on her, as well as the android meant to resemble her little brother. He promised that he would get them out of there one day. That she would have an android, too, and he would learn to put her soul in it, and her brother’s soul in his, and they’d go home and be a happy family again. But according to the digital calendar on the computer monitor, William hadn’t been here in weeks. He’d abandoned her.

The door opened, and William stepped in, carrying with him a variety of machine maintenance supplies. “Hey, Liz,” he said, an apologetic tone to his voice. “So sorry to leave you, honey. Michael… well, he dragged me into this two-month court case in another state, and I haven’t really had time to pop over here.” He put down the supplies and walked over to stroke her arm. “God, I never should have put him before you. If I’d just had my priorities straight, this wouldn’t have happened. Let me just clean Evan up here, and then I have something important to tell you.”

He turned to the Evan android and whistled as he went about its weekly maintenance ritual, wiping off the accumulated dust and debris, combing his hair, changing his clothes, and opening his chest cavity to check that all the mechanical bits were in place, all with a tenderness that William wouldn’t show to the average machine. Then, William turned his attention to Elizabeth.

Not bothering to rein in her impulse to slaughter him, Elizabeth strained against the metal restraints. The first few times she’d felt that impulse, she’d fought it, but now she knew that the restraints would do it for her, keeping her chained tight to her metal gurney. How convenient. How thoughtful of her father to do this so she could at least stay on free-roaming mode and thus move her eyes and hands instead of being entirely immobile.

“You’re not going to be here much longer,” William promised as he got her upright and started polishing.

Elizabeth’s heart fluttered. Her voice was disabled at the moment, but she made sure to focus her eyes on him so that he’d know she understood.

“I completed the rest of the Funtime Animatronics. I’m going to start renting them out, which means you’re going with them to a new warehouse.”

Her heart sank again. It seemed she’d be in this robotic body a bit longer. Or a lot longer.

William took a break from polishing her to stroke her cheek and look her in the eyes. “I promise, I will get you out of there, sweetheart. It’s just a difficult process. And hey, at least this way you’ll have some friends. Alright?” he gave her what was probably supposed to be an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

After Elizabeth’s maintenance, William disabled her motor functions and put her on a gurney, with which she was taken to a crate and then taken on a short, bumpy ride by vehicle. When she was let out of her crate, she found herself in a dimly lit, almost empty warehouse with three beautiful stages in it. On one of them, there was a beautiful ballerina animatronic. On another was a pink and white Freddy animatronic with a little Bonnie hand puppet. The third had a pink and white fox animatronic on it. Before her transformation, Liz would have considered a place like this to be a dream come true. Even now, she thought it was very pretty indeed.

William stepped beside her. “Welcome home, Elizabeth. I’ll have the guys move Funtime Freddy so that you can have center stage. And here,” William opened up her face panel and pressed a button, finally allowing her to move and talk again.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she said. She felt like she ought to have a million questions, but she couldn’t think of a single one. They’d spoken before, using a computer monitor on which her dad could read her code as well as the messages she sent him. From those talks, she knew that he didn’t know when he’d get her out of there, but he was working on it. He didn’t know why the robot had been able to kill her, or why being in the robot was giving her murderous thoughts. He was as in the dark as she was in a lot of ways.

“Of course. Glad to finally make you more comfortable. Now, just get onto your stage whenever you’re meant to be transported, and don’t talk about being Elizabeth Afton. The guys in transportation will put you in performance mode whenever you’re being rented out, so you don’t have to worry about working on your material or anything. Just sit back and enjoy. You’ll be getting some friends here, too, soon enough- more people I’ll save one day.”

Liz nodded. The two hugged, the claw in Liz’s stomach just itching to strike out and stuff him inside her. Then, William left.

It was a few nights later when Ballora began moving on its own. Liz had been practicing her singing when it happened- she’d never been much for music as a human, but for some reason, “practicing her material” had become a passion of hers. Her practice was cut short when she noticed Ballora’s eyes light up green. She rushed over as fast as her stiff, heavy legs could carry her. Was this a new person? Someone else who had died from the animatronics?

Ballora saw Baby and ran towards her, immediately grabbing her arm. It cocked its head, seemingly wanting to say something but incapable of it. Then, the eyes went dark. Liz watched as the eyes of Funtime Foxy lit up green and went out again, followed by Funtime Freddy’s.

“Finally, one that can talk!” Freddy exclaimed. He turned his attention to Liz. “You’re possessed. What is your name?”

“Liz,” Liz answered. That seemed to sadden Freddy quite a bit.

“Oh. I’m sorry… I should have been there.”

Confusing words aside, there was something childlike in the robot’s manner of speaking. Liz was thoroughly unsettled. “Why? How do you know me? How can you move from robot to robot like that?”

“Oh, that? It’s my ability. Every ghost has an ability. Mine is I can possess other things. I still have to go back to the Puppet eventually, though. And how I know you? We were friends when we were alive. I don’t remember my name. But we played dress-up together! You and your little brother and my dad.”

Liz was shocked. It couldn’t be. “Charlie…?”

“Yes! I think. Maybe.”

Liz supposed it made sense. Charlie had died close to one of her father’s restaurants, and it seemed that anyone who died by an animatronic came to possess one. It was still strange to hear her words in Funtime Freddy’s rough, male voice, though. “Does that mean that an animatronic killed you, too?”

The question seemed to alarm Charlie. “No. But I’ll get to that later. For now, I’d like to tell you about your brother... Oh, do you remember his name? Animatronic minds aren’t made for remembering. He doesn’t remember either, anymore.”

“Evan. His name was Evan. Dad said we have his soul in Golden Freddy.”

“Yep! You see, I spent a long time looking out for your brother where I could. I like using my power to look around and see where I can help, especially if it’s my friends. I would have helped you, too, but you weren’t carrying around a robot teddy bear that could talk. I was with him when he died, and so I guided his soul somewhere it would be safe. I put him in Golden Freddy. He gets put on free-roaming mode every night, and he has friends now! He even gets to share Golden Freddy with a girl named Cassidy.”

“Ha. Well, I guess that’s about as good as it gets for an animatronic.” Elizabeth paused. “Charlie… do you know why I’ve loved the thought of killing ever since I became an animatronic? It doesn’t feel like anger. It feels more like a part of my code. Something I’m meant to do. I don’t understand it at all.”

Funtime Freddy's ears drooped, and Liz got the sense that he was about tell her something very hard to admit. “It is a part of your code. Every animatronic can kill and hide bodies. It’s how they’re made. The same way we want to entertain, we want to kill. I do, too.”

“But why? Why would we be built for that?”

“Because your dad is a murderer. He killed me. Before I could even tie my own shoes.”

Liz was stunned. “No. No, no my dad would never do that. Especially not to you! Henry was his best friend. He talked all the time about how much Henry misses you. You said that animatronics don’t remember well. You must be misremembering.”

“I could be misremembering my own murder. But only a few months ago, I saw him kill five more children right before my eyes.”

“I see…” Elizabeth took a moment to process that. Could an animatronic forget in a few months? “Wait. You said that you have violent desires, too. But you’re in the Puppet. My dad didn’t make the Puppet, yours did. Maybe he’s the one-”

Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “No. No, the Puppet is not designed for anger. The Puppet is designed to protect. That’s why I put the others in bodies that would make them want to protect themselves. Big, strong bodies made to kill people with teeth and claws!” Charlie raised her arms and bared her claws, like a child pretending to be a bear. “Even Evan wants to kill now, ‘cause he’s been sharing a mind with a killing machine. I’m the only animatronic whose anger comes from me and only me.” Charlie’s gaze softened. “I have to go now. My old body is pulling me back. I hope you’re able to think things over and accept them. See you soon!” Charlie chirped.

With that, Funtime Freddy’s eyes lost their green glow.

---

One thing Liz didn’t lack for in her auditorium was time to think. And, unfortunately, a little thought was all it took to make Charlie’s claims seem reasonable. Liz remembered the night she’d been killed- she’d come to Circus Baby for comfort because her dad had gone missing. The night before that, she’d overheard her dad and her older brother talking about lying to the police.

Her dad was a murderer. Did that mean that she was destined to be a murderer, too? Days went by. She was rented out, and as her body went through the motions at kids’ parties, she felt her inner claw scratching for release like a cat pawing at the door. It made sense when it was her father- she’d been angry with him even before her death. But children? Maintenance workers? The random man who packed her up for each party, with his flannels and weird moustache and Utah Grizzlies baseball cap? She had no anger against them. And yet she liked the idea of seeing their blood. And if even sweet, lamb-to-slaughter Evan had gone violent, what chance did she have?

[anakinisvaderisanakin]

Impasse - A Vaderdala Oneshot

“You forget something, Lord Vader.”

Vader flinched, the voice as clear as a bell yet as foreign as the icy vacuum of space. He found himself frozen in place, the bulk of his hefty frame suddenly unbearable. Inside his chest, he felt the searing fingers of remorse and the scalding flames of rage warring for control. 

Against better judgment, he shifted to turn around. Against better judgment, he let down his guard and ignored unclipping his lightsaber. He knew the face he would find before he saw it, but he was still not prepared for the wave of emotion that spilled forth as he came face to face with his own ghosts. This one, he had expected long dead and buried.

“Padmé,” he gasped, but the voice that came out was blunt and deep and void of affection.

Still, the shock bled through. Padmé was as beautiful as the day he’d last seen her. Eyes fierce and determined, dark hair coming loose from her neatly tied bun. Her face was set in a scowl, blaster drawn and aiming straight for the chest panel on Vader’s chest as if it were a marked target meant for practice and precision fire. The air had shifted, the tension thick and heavy and oppressive as they stared each other down. No, more accurately Padmé’s intense, fiery glare was bearing down on Vader. Vader felt his anger dissipate the moment he met that stare; the ice cold regret and guilt crippling him inside out as it won the impasse.

“You said you had come to destroy the Rebellion. I am the last leader standing here. I alone. Will you destroy me now?” Padmé hissed through a clenched jaw, cheeks flushed but her hands steady.

Vader was familiar with the vow he had made, but now it seemed an impossible lie. Before his mind’s eye, he had envisioned old men and snot nosed kids. Politicians and traitors and cowards, incapable of accepting the Emperor’s grand design and his expert vision. The future was bright, the Sith had reclaimed their natural state in the circle of life - atop the ladder. Only fools and children would oppose such an evident supply of unlimited power. Yet, Padmé seemed to care for none of these things. Time had not slowed her down, it had not thawed the ice built in her heart - the ice Vader himself had put there.

“Well?” she pressed, voice tight, calm and collected.

The words escaped before Vader had any chance to rein himself in. Perhaps he never intended to.

“No.”

“No?” she repeated, as if mocking him but her expression revealed surprise and disbelief.

“Aren’t you here to execute your Rebel traitors?”

Vader said nothing, instead he reached for the saber strapped to his belt. He watched Padmé tense, watched her shoulder come up and the finger on the trigger twitch. In what might have been a gesture of surrender, he simply tossed his weapon between them. The gesture was barely a flick of his wrist, but it sent the hilt skidding across the smooth floors until it came to an premeditated gentle stop at Padmé’s feet. She glanced down to regard the token, an unreadable tinge of something somber gleaming in her eyes for a split second. When she looked back up, Vader had not moved. He stood with his hands at his sides, the bombardment outside the underground bunker shaking its hull; straining the already flickering lights.

“I will not fight you,” said Vader finally, as if that would be enough to soothe the woman’s stubborn spirits.

She furrowed her brow, the corner of her lips curling into a half sneer of disgust. It stung, and Vader might have recoiled from that alone had he not been the man he was. Changed, remolded and retooled. His heart had been ripped out once, and still Padmé’s presence willed its withered carcass to beat and blossom. At the same time, she tore it to shreds once more with the disdain her face held for him. He sensed it inside her, swirling and expanding into a palpable loathing. It cloaked her, surrounded her like a cloud. It reeked of pain, sorrow, and betrayal.

“You don’t know me. If you won’t fight, I will,” she said, every word calculated and sincere.

“‘Aggressive negotiations’.”

It was merely a statement, but its meaning rang true. Padmé straightened up, eyes suddenly wide as a ghost of horrified recognition filtered past her defenses. it was gone in the blink of an eye, but the colour that had drained from her already pale face was harder to conceal.

“Who told you?” she snarled, shifting the aim of her blaster towards Vader’s heart - knowing it would do no harm, but the gesture hit him like a slap across the face either way.

She was questioning how he had learned about her and The Jedi. Anakin Skywalker, her husband. Perhaps she had her sneaking suspicions, she must. But her aura betrayed none of it, it remained outraged and unsettled and adamant in her quest.

“You did.”

Padmé opened her mouth to deliver another scathing retort, but she snapped it close again. A tremor passed her slight frame, and it did not go unnoticed. Her resolve was faltering and waning, the lie she had convinced herself to believe no less a stretch of the imagination than the mental gymnastics Vader himself had been performing for the past four years. Ever since Mustafar, ever since he lost everything. Now, that very everything lost stood before him. Now, she was once more within his reach.

“I’m sorry. I tried,” he heard himself say, a feeble apology not nearly sufficient to excuse the heinous acts he had committed.

The voice was still not his own, but the words were earnest. Padmé lowered her blaster in slow, jerky motions but her eyes were transfixed on his. At the very least, Vader felt their gaze burn straight into his soul; into the furnace of his heart that had frozen over a million times. 

“You’re safe.”

It was a ridiculous profession, Padmé’s very existence as part of the Rebellion was a death sentence. But she was alive, she was well and healthy and stable and here. She had not died. He had failed her, but she had lived. He took one step towards her, feeling just as wary and insecure as she looked. She blinked rapidly, shaking her head in a tiny micromovement. She mouthed something, but there was no sound accompanying the motion. Vader understood her fear, yet it pained him to no end. He was unrecognizable, locked within this jettblack prison of durasteel, cybernetics and synth flesh. There was so little left of his physical body, and even less of the man Padmé had once loved.

“It can’t be…” she whispered, hoarse as the tendons at the sides of her neck strained.

Vader felt the urge to cry, an urge so overpowering. An urge that had not found him since Mustafar, since the fall of the Jedi and the Republic. He had no tears to cry, no measure to shed tears by. His retinas, his tear ducts were long since eaten away by flames and embers. Still, his eyes stung. A warmth pressed behind them, a heaviness bearing down on his chest like a fist squeezing the air out of his lungs. Lungs he no longer had.

“Do what you must. I am not afraid to die.”

Padmé’s eyes widened, mouth falling open as realization dawned upon her. She understood. Vader expected her to back away, expected her to cry, to yell, to fire. Anything. Instead, she stood stone faced. As frail as porcelain, yet as sturdy as the brightest star in the Galaxy. Now, she took a step towards him. Then another. Closing the gap, inch by inch, foot by foot. She tipped her head back, never once drawing her eyes from the opaque crimson lenses of Vader’s eyes that substituted eyes. They served for the damaged, half blind eyes hidden behind.

“What have they done to you?” Padmé’s resolute voice murmured; full of compassion and love, emotions that seemed to have sprung out of the ether.

Yet, what she really meant was; what have you done to yourself?

Vader did not falter as she stopped but a breath away. Her trembling, slender fingers reached for his face plate. Her tiny hand brushed over the mouthpiece, running over the sharp angles and the netted grill. A breath was forced through it, with a loud hiss and the smell of sanitizer and bacta fluids followed it. Padmé’s eyes were round, warm, and mournful. They were glassy, her cheeks flushed but it was Vader who wished more than ever that he might shed a tear. If she were to strike him down, he deserved it. He would allow it. He would let her.

“Anakin.”

It was not a question. She knew, it was evident in the pitiful, feeble smile of shock and relief alike that grazed her lips. It was gone in an instant, but it had said enough. So used to denouncing his name, denouncing himself and all he was and had been - Vader found himself unable to deflect her. She was right. He had been wrong for so long, choosing to live in darkness and denial. No more.

“Yes.”

Anakin meant it.

****

Have a short Vaderdala AU.

[ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole]

Stories of Paris

Part 4

Part One Part Three AO3

Masterlist

................................................................

Damian was unhappy with the fact that with ‘strangers’ in *his* house their nightly activities would have to carefully navigated. His father nor Pennyworth had not explicitly said anything about it, but he assumed it was because they all knew what was expected. So, being told to line up in the entrance hall by his father went down like a lead balloon.

His pout turned in widening eyes of shock as he witnessed the tall wiry young woman (and a large man he supposed) exiting the car. SHE was his father’s babysitter. This was who oversaw the European branch of W.E. The person who owned the largest portion of shares of W.E (after the Wayne family that is). He was doomed. Damain watched as his father soften as he saw the woman.

“Mari! You never seem to age!” he exclaimed as she gracefully walked up to him and into his embrace.

“Mon cherie! It’s miraculous isn’t it,” she drew back slightly to look over his shoulder, “I see you have taken found family comment to the extreme, but I suppose you were never one to do things in half measures. It’s good to be back here after so long”

Looking at her like he was a child with pleading eyes, “You are staying here, right?”

With a gentle smile with a smirking edge, “Yes. If I tried to leave for a hotel, I’ll end up having the shadows watching me all night. Plus, this place always did feel like my home away from home.”

Damian glancing at his supposed siblings to see that they were also in shock. Probably not for the same reason. Panicking with it all, as he saw his father turn to introduce them to the woman, Damian drew his katana and aimed it at her.

“YOU were fathers' babysitter!!! But... what... you’re younger than him!!!! .... You’re the Grand Lady Guardian... I *refuse* to return.”

Damian vaguely recognised his name being shouted at him, but all his attention was on the Grand Lady Guardian of the Miraculous who stood, rolling her eyes, before him. He could feel her power radiating off, surrounding them all.

“Petit Tresor. I’m not taking you back there. Did you not learn anything from my teachings? Did you not learn to read between the lines? About looking deeper than the surface. You are with *your* found family. THEY are what is important. Bruce may have picked up a lot of my unhealthy habits about vigilantism, but he made a point of understand a good support network and the importance of chosen family. Despite how he enacts the teachings.”

The Monkey with her came to her shoulder and raised his eyebrow at Damian. He finally understood why he was always her bodyguard now rather than the Cat, being that he was her husband.

“You can stand down Petit Tresor. League and Court business will *not* be found here. The League know what will happen if they cross the Court, and I made it very clear after our last encounter when they tried to manipulate us to their advantage.”

Damian assessed the woman before him as he withdrew his katana from her and starting to become aware of the others around him again.

“Why has he got a chaos shard within him Bruce?” The monkey growled looking at him with a dangerous glint in his eye.

Everyone in the entrance hall was frozen in shock and panic. What was meant to be a happy reunion had been derailed but now, suddenly, somehow gained an even sharper edge. Marinette and her husband were aware of their nightly capers, and they also knew of the League, they were involved in something similar and aware of chaos shards.

Damian watched as his father gulped as he looked at the Monkey and the Guardian. It wasn’t often his father showed fear, but it was clear on his face as she arched her eyebrow at him. His siblings all looked on in surprise and uncertain of what to expect. Only Pennyworth and Todd seemed to be handling the situation with any sense of calmness. Surprising for Todd...

“Mari... his mother... the league...”

At the mention of the league the Guardians eye twitch so subtly you’d hardly notice it if not trained and with a minute flicker of her hand, the Monkey flipped his phone out and was walking out back outside to call someone... Damian straining his ears heard Peg and plan 42c being mentioned by the Monkey to whoever he had called.

“They were warned. Tsk, Assassin’s bullheadedness. Kim will sort this out for me for the present moment and we will discuss healing at a later point. Anyway, mon cherie, you were about to introduce me to your children. Petit Tresor I know, and I believe that that is Jason, mon rêveur, in the background though he has grown so much since our last meeting. So, I could guess everyone else, but why don’t you continue?”

The Guardian stated as if the topic of what just happened was over, much to Damian’s surprise. He sheafed his katana but still was wary of the woman and slightly in awe. He had a feeling that the chaos and downfall of his grandfather may have due to her in some way. Slight fear and dread for his mother was building as well. He finally starting to understand the reason for her over protectiveness when she taught him in the league now.

“Right. Mari, this is Dick, Jason who you already met in person? Cass and alongside her Duke, Tim who you meet briefly in the W.E. meeting the other month, Steph who has wormed her way into the family and Damian you who’ve also already met?”

With a polite cough drawing attention to himself, Alfred spoke. “Perhaps, instead of having a mother’s meeting in the entrance hall, we retreat to the drawing room where we can have some refreshments. I am sure that Ms Marinette and Master Kim are exhausted from their travels. It is most unbecoming to stand around loitering, wouldn’t you agree Master Bruce?”

Bruce muttered something as his ears started to tinge red, Marinette turned to Alfred and smiled as she drew him into a hug while Bruce collected himself.

“Yes, right, that sounds like a fantastic idea Alfred. Mari, shall we?”

Bruce offered her an arm which she elegantly took as the took off in the direction of the drawing room delving into conversation with Bruce leaving behind a shocked collection on children in the hall. Alfred slipped off to prepare the refreshments.

Damian cringed as Dick exclaimed, “YOU GUYS KNOW HER?!?!?!!” which echoed around the manor as he finally processed what had just happened.

______________________________________________

Alfred smiled as the atmosphere within the Manor shifted over the last few weeks. It now had a different air about it. Master Bruce became less sullen and slightly less repressed under Marinette’s watch and the Manor started to feel lighter again.

Alfred had found great amusement when he stumbled in on Master Kim lecturing Master Bruce on being dense especially the “I know I’m dense but kwami Bruce! You’re worse than me realising all the competitions I got Mare rigged into was because I wanted to impress her! Let’s start at the beginning, ok?!”.

He hoped that Master Kim might be able to knock a bit of sense into his wayward charge. He knew Ms Marinette, though full of good intentions wouldn’t be able to with Master Bruce’s strange ability to pick up on the wrong message being given.

The highlight of the week was when he entered the family living room to find all his grandchildren looking pale as Master Bruce acted semi child-like in front of Ms Marinette. It was a delight to see Bruce act like the child that he knew he was reawakened again. Even if it terrified the grandchildren.

The whole family discovered that Bruce had been very selective of the stories and information that he had told them about Marinette. She had taken great delight telling them all about what teenage Bruce really was like.

About the time Bruce had a fan induced panic attack on meeting the Jagged Stone. Alfred was slightly aware of something happened but not the details.

About the time Bruce decided to practice parkour in the Manor gardens and ended up stuck halfway up the side of the Manor unable to climb up further or climb down. Alfed was positive he was unaware that Marinette joined him and had to coach Bruce down.

About the series of times that Bruce attempted to prove to Alfred that he had ‘outgrown the kitchen ban’ and had ‘observed Mari’s baking skills sufficiently’ to be able to try again for only the attempts to go south fast. Alfred grimaced at the memories that that bought up. He was glad that he’d got a good working deal with local kitchen fitters and suppliers given the number of fires.

It became a daily breakfast occurrence that Bruce mortified Marinette in his outfit for the day. The breakfast entertainment became watching Marinette tear into his fashion choice of the day, drag up some past clothing or costume disaster. She ended up moaning that he had learnt nothing from her rantings about clothes over the years and stare forlornly into her coffee cup. It was providing the bat boys a wealth of black mail material that Alfred had to on numerous occasions reel Marinette from her tangents.

The only time he let her completely go to town with was letting her regale to everyone about Bruce’s dramatic and insistent argument on fighting crime in Lyca, wearing pants on top of tights and with a cape, that he really insisted that he didn’t need to use Kevlar (that decision didn’t last beyond a few training sessions and one patrol night). Alfred was pleased with her ability to rein that disaster in quickly.

It was in the comfort of the kitchen away from the antics that happened Alfred mused and reflected on his notional niece's visit. Alfred wished he had thought to bring Marinette over sooner as he witnessed that fraught relationships between the Waynes soften. Issues didn’t disappear but Marinettes presence, and ability due to dealing with Akuma, helped mitigate situations which typically would have blown up. Kim always by her side would help soothe, distract, or explain to the puzzled Bruce the techniques Marinette was using to stop the escalation.

She’d slowly began charming and connecting with his grandchildren. Be it by giving Tim pointers on how to manage W.E board members effectively and playing video games. It was eerily like how she warmed Bruce up to her.

By Sitting quietly reading with Jason or playing chess and talking in metaphors about life, death and balance. Slowly having ‘healing sessions to calm the pit madness’ with meditation and grounding sessions.

With Damian she seemed to remind him of alternate grounding techniques which she’d shown him in the league. They seemed to spend time talking in hushed whispers about other stuff that Alfred wasn’t currently privy too.

Duke was with poetry and music. Cass with dance and gymnastics, silent subtle conversations occurred but seeing Cass smile and edge towards being more tactile made Alfred glow with warmth inside. Steph and Marinette commanded the kitchen numerous times baking pastries, waffles and other treats.

Dick took the longest to warm up to the woman, having heard and known about her for over a deacade but never met it was understandable. Alfred wpould never knew what Marinette had done but one day the hostility and coldness disappeared. A joy, childlike smile appeared on Dicks face every time she was in the room, and he’d follow her round like a loat puppy. Watching and mimicking her techniques to calm his brothers down.

How his grandchildren acted with Marinette in the activities brought echoes of memories of her with Bruce to the forefront of Alfred’s mind.

Sighing, in the short time the Manor felt warm and like a family, a home should feel like. Much like before his friends’ death. Schooling his emotions, Alfred set about to serve the family and Parisians last dinner together.

______________________________________________

Bruce tried not to sulk. Tried not to revert to the mind set of when Marinette originally disappeared physically from his life. Especially in front of his children but it was hard. She somehow always managed to take the overwhelming pressure away from him, like he could breathe and be.

Alfred was his father, in all the ways that counted, but the burden of death and saving the world was something Marinette understood at a deeper more personal level. Having her here made it feel safe to feel, that he would always be caught. That she would save him from the consuming darkness. She was the light in the world shining out in the Gotham gloom.

As expected, his children adored her in their unique ways. Following her around like little ducks scrabbling for crumbs of knowledge and titbits of information. Bruce lips twitched as he witnessed them behaving much like he used to. Taking the gems’ she passed on to them and ferreting them away much like he did.

“Master Bruce, I expect better behaviour this leaving gathering than our previous party, please.”

With Alfred’s comments Bruce gave into the feeling of pouting. Why deny how he felt toward the situation where he wasn’t in control. He pointedly ignored the stares that his children were giving him. Again.

“Mon tresor! It’s not like you aren’t going to see or speak to me again. We speak regularly as it is. It’s not the same as it was last time. You know this.”

“But Mari, it's nice having you here. This is your home.”

“Is he always like this Mare, Cupcake? How is it that all the kid’s you’ve looked after end up demanding you live with them?”

Bruce choked at Kim’s statement and the Wayne clan burst into laughter. Alfred let a small smirk grace his face.

“Oui, Mon Amour, He wasn’t happy last time I left at all. Be grateful I learnt to resist kitten eyes or we’d never have reconnected. Manon doesn’t count. She’s practically family as well with how close Maman and Nadja are.”

“What about Elle, Etta and Chris? What about Ivan’s and Mylene’s sproglian? Fang? Jagged’s second round of terrors? Luka and Jules too really.”

“Hush, Mon Amour, circumstantial evidence.”

Bruce observed Kim stare at his wife in disbelief before waving his hand around the room.

“What about these then. Don’t give me that look Cupcake. I’m gonna end up needing to fight the whole batclan at this rate to get you on a plane with me! Maybe I should give Peg’s the heads up that I’ll need his help.”

“I can assure you Master Kim that you *both* are free to leave. The young master's understand that they cannot kidnap you. It would not be becoming of them OR look good for the company for the family to kidnap its own workers.”

Bruce and his family guiltily ducked their heads at Alfred’s comments. When Alfred turned away to start talking to Kim, Tim leant in close to Bruce to whisper to him.

“Do you think we have the power to move her to being director of North America rather than Europe? Mari would be closer then? Plus, the guy in charge isn’t all he’s cracked up to be so the board would likely approve it.”

Bruce stared at his son at the ingenious and simple solution and smiled, before ducking his head when Alfred pointedly looked his way.

“We’ll discuss that concept later.”

Bruce gave Tim a subtle nod as if he was approving the idea. Technically he was but Alfred didn’t need to know that. Nor did Kim really, as he would fight him if he found out and he’d rather not deal with an ex-olympian superhero, even when he pulled his punches they hurt far more than the average persons.

Bruce sat back into his seat and smiled as the conversation and chaos flowed around him. His whole family finally together and he cherished it. He knew it wasn’t going to last much longer with the impending flight looming but for now he had a potential and creative plan to work on. If he framed it right it could also become the prefect family bonding activity that both Marinette and Kim thought he needed to do more of outside of vigilantism. And if the end result was that she moved closer, well, that’s just an added bonus in his eyes.

With that in mind, Bruce joined in with the choas enjoying the moment with his complete family. Nothing could take this away from him.

Tag:

@neakco @corporeal-terrestrial @jayjayspixiepop @lady-bee-fechin @prettylittlebutterflie

[echo-of-sounds]

don’t go to bed angry

Small drabbles of you making up with Aizawa, Toshinori, and Hizashi after a fight.

Aizawa Shouta

“Fucking leave then! It’s not like I need you!”

You hated how the situation ended. You hated how you handled it. A conversation. It was supposed to be a conversation, never a disagreement nor a spat nor an argument. Cursing and crying should not have happened- it should never happen, whatever the circumstances. And those words certainly shouldn’t have come from your mouth.

Hearing footsteps, you rolled over. The wall illuminated when the door opened, flashing Shouta’s silhouette across it. Clothing dropped. His belt landed with a solid thunk. The bed dipped, bearing his warmth and quiet breathing.

You wished they would comfort you like usual. His body heat lulled you to sleep. His mellow moving chest calmed yours. Now they just felt distant.

A heavy sigh lifted the silence. He asked in a low voice, “You awake?”

Most of you didn’t want to answer. You could drift asleep, forget about the cussing, and wake tomorrow morning, pretending nothing happened. But you forced yourself to reply, weakly, timidly, “Yeah.”

The blankets shifted. Warmth settled slightly closer, yet not enough to be comforting. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah… You?”

“Yeah.”

Silence stooped again. Air staled between you, dark and difficult. Breath swelled in your lungs, exhaling clunkily without your say-so, simultaneously sinking your heart and blurring your vision.

You spoke in sync, “I’m sorry.”

In the somber room, you faced his shape on the other side of the bed. “Shouta, I’m sorry. I never meant to start an argument, especially over something so stupid. And I didn’t mean any of what I said. I only said it because I was angry. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know. I’m sorry too.” Shouta’s hand found yours, distilling the remote feelings, attaching him back to you. “I shouldn’t have responded as I did. I had a long day and let my frustrations out on you.”

“I hate fighting with you,” you mumbled.

“Me too.” His fingers clasped tight. 

That wordless connection was all you needed. You quickly closed the gap, slugging your chest against his. He huffed at the collision but still welcomed you in, chasing off the dim cold with his heat.

“I do need you, Shouta. Please, don’t ever think different.”

“Thank you.” He laid down, keeping you snuggly enveloped. A couple of kisses smoothed over your forehead. “I need you, too.”

Yagi Toshinori

“Enough! You’re not fucking helping me.”

You weren’t resentful at his abrupt anger or his curing. You were upset he was hiding from you. It was past midnight and the other side of the bed remained empty. Toshinori’s body wasn’t sweltering, but your body’s become accustomed, craving his feel to drift safely to sleep. 

And he was sitting in the living room, physically and emotionally distant. He so scarcely let his temper take the reins. It dwelled and blistered and tore until it wept. The release came as sadness, self-hate. Your supporting words and actions meant nothing. You tried to offer consolation, seek out his fears, be a shoulder to cry on, but that made his emotions direct towards you, like a hurt animal standing on its last leg.

Throwing off the covers, you got up. Toshi was slumped over on the couch, holding his arm up awkwardly on the armrest. His wrist bent. His neck tilted to the side. It would no doubt give him sore muscles.

Whispering his name didn’t wake him. Gently nudging his knee didn’t either. You shook his shoulder, and he jerked awake in alarm. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Toshi. It’s okay. You fell asleep on the couch.”

He rolled his neck around, sitting up straight. A little sweat and flush strained his temples.

You sat beside him, stroking his arm. He shrugged off your touch. You asked, “Why don’t you come to bed? Sleeping here isn’t healthy.”

“No, no, honey. I’m fine here. You need the space.”

“No, I don’t. You needed the time and I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you. I know it’s difficult and me prying won’t help. I’m sorry I did.”

Toshi shook his head and faced more towards you, sighing your name. “Please, don’t apologize. I’m the one that swore at you. I know you’re just worried about me.”

“I am.” 

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry.” Arms circled you, bringing you to his chest. The thin coating of water dripped from your eyes. He kissed your forehead and rubbed your back, softly mumbling, “I’m sorry I took my anger out on you. I’ll never do that again, I promise.”

You nodded, muttering, “Will you come to bed with me? I don’t want you out here. I want you next to me.”

“Of course, I will.”

Once you were both tucked in, you nuzzled back into his arms. They were long and kept you safe all night. His anger was already forgotten.

Yamada Hizashi

“Because you’re fucking annoying! Shut up for once!”

The idiotic, untrue, blurted words pickaxed your brain. You needed to apologize. Hizashi didn’t deserve the verbal wound no matter how rushed and overwhelmed you felt. His expression, upturned eyebrows, frightened eyes, and slowly closing mouth cut every piece of you. How he shuffled away from your wrath, feeling judged and abandoned by the one person who always loved his voice, his laughter, and his singing, tore you to tears, despite being the one who caused it.

You shuffled to the bedroom and, in case he was asleep, carefully nudged the door open. His figure laid on the bed, facing the opposite wall, on his stomach, breathing quietly, motionless. 

One tiptoe inside and Hizashi jumped up, calling your name.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything.” You sat on the edge of the bed.

The way he moved seemed insecure, reflecting how he felt. The doubts about his energy, the persona he created, always plagued the back of his mind, filling his head with cynicism towards his ‘real’ character. But he was real- all of him. Every joke, dance, and sound he produced was real and beautiful and none of it was annoying. It was him and he didn’t need to change any part of it.

“I am, honey. I’m sorry.” You searched for his hand in the dark. His fingers weaved with yours, long and slender.

“I don’t mean to be annoying or loud, you know that right? I hate bothering you.”

“I know. I know. You weren’t. I was just a little overwhelmed. I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I shouldn’t have called you annoying, because you’re not, Hizashi. I’m so sorry I said that.”

The outline of his head nodded. You wished you could see his face to wash away the last, horribly nervous one you saw. 

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“I love you so much. I love you so much.” You pulled him into a bear hug. A pleasing laugh caressed your ears. You kissed him, breathing into his mouth, “And I love your voice.”

“Oh, in that case, let me sing for you.” He whisked you down to the bed, starting to croon his favorite song.

[ultimateluckystudent-writes]

hello! if this isn’t too weird, i’d like to request nagito and his fem s/o being heard having...seggs...... (maybe? possibly? perhaps? you can include the seggs scene?? if it’s not too much..) and the next morning their classmates are literally like 🧍‍♂️🧍🏻‍♀️ and it’s so awkward 😭😭 I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIYOKO AND MAHIRU LIKE 😀🤬 and everyone else like 😅😐please don’t feel obligated to do it but if you do then thank you so much!!! have a great day/night

Nagito and S/O being overheard

Anon, you're a genius. Absolutely, this is my favorite request I've gotten so far I had to do this first (even... if I'm... really late) It kind of spiraled into a little fic with smut and fluff but eh, the more the merrier right?

-Mod Usami

Word Count: 1.9k

Content Warnings: Island Mode AU! Some smut at the beginning, the rest is pretty fluffy. If you don't wanna read it, skip to where you see *****

“Fuck! Oh, fuck, yes!” Nagito’s hips hit yours with a fervor that was unfamiliar but completely welcome. His long, bony fingers held your waist tightly to hold himself steady as he fucked you while you lay on your back. Above you, he had a look of complete focus as he worked to keep up his pace. Usually he was quite gentle with you, making you take the reins if you wanted something rougher, but tonight he touched you with a drive you couldn’t place.

It had been much the same earlier, when he brought you off the first time eating you out; however, you had grown accustomed to Nagito’s eagerness when his face was between your legs. You’d been much too distracted by that very tongue laving your clit to notice any difference. When his hips slotted between yours though, the difference was so clear.

One of Nagito’s hands moved from its place on your torso to the back of your thigh, pushing it back towards you gently. His eyes remained locked on yours, and though his pace didn’t relent, his eyes were soft and questioning. When you could moaned in response, he couldn’t help but grin to himself a bit. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper,

“My hope...” He choked out, obviously attempting to remain steady even while he was so pleased. “I- you- you sound beautiful already and- and I know this is a selfish request-”

“Wh- What do you want, Nah- ah! Nagito!” You’d meant to continue on, but it was rather difficult. Your fingers dug into the sheets. Nagito moaned aloud at his name, his brows furrowing.

“Yes! My- my name! Just like that!”

“Of course, my pretty boy.” You managed to give him a sloppy half-smile. You let your head fall back once more as he continued. “Nagito! Oh, ah, Nagito! Fuck, baby you’re- you’re so good!” Your hand began to reach down to your clit, but his voice interrupted you.

“P- please, allow me-” He adjusted himself so he was pressed further down into you, one arm supporting himself on the bed and the other beginning to rub circles around your clit, one of your legs over his shoulder. All at once you were enveloped in how good he was making you feel, and knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Oh, Nagito, Nagito, Nagito!” Your voice was almost a whisper, chanting his name like a prayer. The leg not already against him came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper. “I’m- I’m close-”

“Yes!” He moaned. “Please, please cum for me- I want to see you, I wanna see you-”

“Nagito!” A particularly electric motion from his hands caused your own to fly into his hair. “Nagito, Nagito- ah!” Your legs shook as you came, left trembling in his hands, and he didn’t last much longer. As he came, he leaned down as much as he could while still pumping into you to kiss and bite down on your neck. He peppered kisses all over you as you both lie in the aftershocks, panting in between nips and kisses. At last, he sucked hard on a spot by your pulse point, making you shiver while he marked you. “Nagito...” You whined. “You’re gonna leave marks...”

“Forgive me, my love, I selfishly crave nothing more than to see you completely marked up by my hand.” He murmured, his voice breathy and sleepy. You giggled, a bit out of it yourself.

“You talk funny.” You nudged him to move and he finally stood back up and wiped the sweat off of his brow. After cleaning up a bit and hitting the light, the two of you crawled back into bed to finally get some rest. You held his head close to your chest and played with his hair, and you were quickly asleep. Nagito needed to try a bit harder to fall asleep. He was facing the window he’d noticed he’d left open earlier, and tried not to laugh too much and make you stir.

*****

“Good morning everyone! It’s another beautiful day on the island! Please eat breakfast and do your very best today! Love, love!” Usami's voice crackled through the tv in your room. You internally groaned, upset that you could never find a way to turn that damn monitor down, until the events of last night came back to you. You smiled to yourself as you pulled Nagito closer, right while he was in the middle of a yawn.

“Morning breath.” You grumbled, moving to kiss him on the cheek.

“Nobody made you kiss me in the middle of my yawn. Least of all me.” He protested, but he sounded pleased. “Good morning.” You simply grumbled in response, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “We’re expected at breakfast eventually.”

“So what?” You grinned deviously and peeked open your eyes just enough to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. He made a little squeaking noise and tilted his head to give you more access.

“Ah- as much as I- oh- enjoy your intimacy...” He swallowed hard, as if he was preparing himself for what he was going to say next. You didn’t relent. “We really shouldn’t do this every time we wake up together- we end up la- hah- hmm.” His voice died down into a hum as you began to suck on his neck. “Didn’t you complain about marks just last night?” His voice was strained. His hands found your sides and held on tight, despite his hesitant words.

“Yeah, but they’re probably already there, so it doesn’t matter now, does it?” You said in between your kisses. You pulled away just for a second to see that you were in fact leaving red marks something deep within you hoped would bloom into something darker. My precious boy… maybe they’ll all stop being so rude to you if they understand you’re mine.

“Well, there wouldn’t have been anything to connect it to me.” He said seriously. A laugh bubbled up out of you. “What?”

“Nothing.” You lied. Nothing would connect it to you except all the time we spend together, the way you cling to me when other people are around, those puppy-dog eyes you give me in front of everybody whenever we’re sent to collect in different areas… “But your logic is flawed.” You argued, moving to straddle his hips. He looked awestruck under you, something that made you falter for a moment. “Everyone else would know it wasn’t them, and that would likely narrow it down because...”

“Because?”

“You’re not the best liar when asked something directly, Ko-chan.” You giggled, tapping him on the nose. His eyes crossed trying to follow it.

“You’re probably right.” He beamed. You rolled your eyes. He seemed like he was in too good of a mood now to disagree with anyone. You leaned down to kiss his forehead and your feet finally found their way onto the floor. You felt much more energized now. You and Nagito began to get ready for the day. Nagito had begun to keep clothes in your cabin at your insistence and desire to have as much time with him in bed in the mornings. Still, between your conversations and extra kisses you both snuck, you found yourself late to breakfast.

“You don’t want to walk in separately?” He asked. “It might be rather… suspicious if we walked in at the same time. Especially with… these.” He gestured at your necks, which were marked up in matching fashion, though yours were a bit darker due to time. Despite his words, you’d seen the way Nagito smiled when he caught sight of himself in the mirror earlier, something you hadn’t seen him do… ever.

“I don’t mind, really, Nagito.” You took his hand and kissed his knuckles, making him blush once more. His face was already almost permanently red around you. “Besides, it’s not like anyone actually cares if we’re fucking… they probably won’t think at all about ”

“Ah...” Nagito pursed his lips as you finished climbing the stairs to the hotel’s restaurant. “About that...” His words fell on deaf ears however, as you pushed open the doors. All your classmates were already there, and though you expected to be able to slip in without much notice, all conversation paused as the two of you walked in. Everybody’s eyes turned to you at once.

“Good mo-or-orning lovebirds!” Ibuki sang, waving her utensils and accidentally splattering some of her food onto Byakuya. You froze completely, your eyes widening.

“Good morning, Mioda-san.” Nagito said from behind you. You turned to him, but he seemed most unfazed. There was still a light blush on his cheeks, but you couldn’t tell if that was from earlier or now.

“Mioda-chan!” Mahiru said crossly. “We agreed I would talk to them about it first!”

“Oh, fuck.” You covered your face with your hands. “Oh my fucking God. They all already knew.”

“Well… if it helps, we- we didn’t know until last night.” Mikan laughed nervously, before her own eyes widened. “Oh no! That probably doesn’t help! I’m so sorry, Koizumi-san!”

“Last night? What- oh no.” You could feel your face begin to burn. “Did.. did you...”

“A lot of us… heard you last night, yes.” Chiaki nodded. “Though I believe it was mostly the girls, as it came from the girls’ side of the dorms.”

“Komaeda, my man, I never thought I’d say this but like… how’d you do it?” Kazuichi asked.

“Now is not the time Soda-san!” Sonia chided. “(L/N)-san, did he at least pay you first?”

“I’m gonna do it.” You whispered to yourself. “I’m gonna walk into the ocean and never come back-”

“It’s somehow not that sort of deal. I keep trying but-” Nagito shrugged. You turned and glared at him furiously. “I sense I’ve made a mistake of some sort.”

“She doesn’t make him pay!” Hiyoko smirked, and just from the look you knew you wouldn’t like where this was going. “We all heard last night how much of a cum dump you are!” Several people gasped. Your face froze in what must have looked like a delirious grin. Your mind wouldn’t even register the words she was saying.

“I wish I could have heard.” Teruteru whined. “I’m sure the lady sounded… orgasmic in more than one sense of the word.”

“Haha!” Nagito said the words instead of actually laughing as he stepped out in front of you. He was smiling, but his eyes were cold. “I believe, besides last night, those sounds are usually reserved for me.”

“Whatever, weird choice aside, if she’s getting it from who she wants it’s cool!” Akane said around a mouthful of egg. “As long as she keeps it down! I almost didn’t make it to my early morning run today!”

“Thank you for getting us back to the point, Owari.” Byakuya sighed. “I hate this conversation with a newfound passion. Keep it down, please. Make sure your windows are closed.”

“What? But my windows are almost always closed!” You protested, thankful for the further change. “We’ve got AC, why would I-”

“It doesn’t matter!” Fuyuhiko groaned, shoving his chair away from the table. “And now I’ve completely lost my appetite. Can we go, Pekoyama?” She gave a curt nod, and they left to clear their plates.

“That’s cool! I’m gonna throw myself off one of the bridges today anyways!” You waved at them all. “Toodaloo!” With that, you began to walk away.

“She’s joking… I think.” You heard Nagito say behind you.

“I’m not!”

“...I’ll go with her. Ah, we’ll see you all at morning delegations- hey, wait up!”

[kashimos-hajime]

the pawn (3/8) | r.b.

summary: He smiles. “How could I? You promised to marry me, didn’t you? Wouldn’t miss that for the world.” Or, Reiner makes a promise; you ask if it’s a challenge.

WARNINGS: general mentions of blood and injuries, minor angst, lot of subtext,  and if you know where we are in the show/manga, you know whats up next pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 5.4k

a/n: slow descent into madness type beat ig hehehheh 

masterlist

crossposted on ao3 x

“Shit. Bertholdt, my head—“

“Hold on.” A hand grabs yours, warm and rough, and you look up blearily to see your best friend beside you, smiling uneasily.  “Give me the reins.” Bertholdt tugs it out of your grasp and you watch as he rides up ahead a few paces, leading you and your horse at the right wing of their party back to Calaneth. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel like I might throw up,” you explain briefly through clenched teeth. Being thrown off your horse and trampled had left you ragged, bloody, and broken, but you know you’re one of the lucky ones. “I shouldn’t be priority. I’ll be okay.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey! Are you alright?” Reiner rides up next to you and you glance at him wearily. You cradle your sprained arm and hold your swollen shoulder in place as you nod. Your face cracked with dried tears and blood, you sway with every step back as you nod. Blood drips down your ripped pant leg and you swear the bruise is growing ever more visible but despite it all, Reiner visibly sags at seeing you breathing. 

“She’ll live,” Hange calls back at them. “We managed to stop the bleeding and any internal injuries aren’t serious.”

“How do you know that?”

“Managed to scoop her up before any ribs could be stepped on,” the Section Commander explains and you nod again, straining to keep your head up. “She was a real trooper. Managed to knock a few soldiers out of that Female Titan’s way before they got crushed.” 

“My horse didn’t make it, though,” you murmur, rubbing at your cheek. The sunset burns your skin and you screw up your face as a swirling sensation fills your stomach. Legs going lax, a numbness begins to crawl up your body. “I—I tried—“

“Hey, you did good,” Hange cuts sharply. “Just stay awake until we get back.”

You don’t remember what happens next. You were sitting up right, and then you pitch sideways and there’s a shout of your name. Hands grab at your shoulders but you slip, the sensation of wind brushing against your cheeks before you crash to the hard ground and black explodes into your vision.

When you awake, a soft groan rips out of your mouth and something inside your throat cracks as a figure jolts up. 

“Creampie? Hey, you awake?”

Turning your face away, you let out a noise and your eyes screw shut tighter. 

“You don’t have to shout,” you mumble to yourself. Your head is like a thunderstorm, lightning striking in your skull with every pulse of your heart and you wince to yourself when you move too quickly. “Shit.” Trying to move your arm, pain lances up and balls up in your shoulder, and you flinch as a hand stills your efforts. “Where—“

“We’re at headquarters. You should be okay, now that you’re awake.” Head tilting, you catch sight of a broad silhouette as the hand on your arm moves to your uninjured one, resting atop your knuckles.

“How?”

“You passed out. The doc thinks you’ve got a concussion, but we have to wait a few days until you can stay awake longer than few minutes,” Reiner continues quietly, his hand not quite leaving your bruised hand. “Shit. You scared me.”

“What? Why?” Confused, your eyebrows scrunch together as he reaches and his shadow blocks the flames for just a moment. The ache in your head dulls as his palm presses against your brow. You close your eyes. “Reiner, everything’s still fuzzy, you know.“

“You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were going to die.”

“I’m okay,” you whisper, eyes prying open gently. “I’m okay. Give me… the, uh, rundown.” You look down at your still body covered in a blanket, and Reiner follows your gaze, a dark remorse filling his gaze. Tilting your head at him, you try to smile and he accepts the effort with a tug of his own lips.

“Sprained wrist, dislocated shoulder, bruising. Your leg’s in pretty bad shape. Bruised to hell, but the doc said you’ll have a full recovery. The swelling on your shoulder should go down, but take it easy for the next month while you heal.”

“What?” You try to sit up, but he pushes you back down and your teeth clench when agony ripples through your fatigued body. Your muscles barely move, and the pain is sharp in contrast to the gauzy heat spreading under the covers.

“Don’t move. You passed out once already.” Staring into furious golden eyes, you comply and he sits back down beside you. Planting his elbows into the mattress, he buries his face in his hands with a soft groan. “Shit.” You crane your heard curiously. Lifting your uninjured hand, you set it atop his fingers but he only seems to begin to shake. “Shit.”

“Reiner?”

 Fingers digging into his scalp, Reiner turns his head into his palms and you’re scalded by his flinch as you stroke a thumb over his scarred knuckles. Raising his head raggedly, golden eyes fix on your face.

Softly, as if breaking a promise: “Fuck it. Let it kill me. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend that you—you—“

Confusion wrinkles your brow before a realization settles in and your hand falls as you look away. Your heart begins to wilt in your chest. “Reiner, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Sorry? You’re sorry? God, I want to marry you.”

You open your mouth in pure shock and your eyes fly to his face just as hands cups your cheeks and he lunges forward, lips pressing to your own hungrily. A soft noise keening from your throat, your arm drapes around his neck, pulling him close instinctively.

His hands span across your cheek, your jaw, pinkies brushing the soft skin of your neck, and your head is spinning from the serenity that flows from his palms into your body as he breathes in deeply, holds you tighter. 

When he pulls back, you sink into your pillows with a dazed sigh and he brushes his thumb over your mouth, gaze never leaving your face for a moment.

“I really like you,” you breathe. His face slackens at your voice, and his lips part as if he wants to say something, but as his ochre gaze only flits all over your face, a soft scoff-like sound escapes his chest.

“Still?”

Like he’s shocked. Like it could ever fade.

“Yes, and you want to marry me. We’re all full of surprises,” you whisper and for a moment, a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he sits back down. “C’mon. Smile for the cripple.”

“You’re not crippled.”

“Not yet, but with my skill? It’ll only be next week until you have to carry me around in your big hunky arms.” You wrinkle your nose as your hand runs down his arm, rubbing his forearm soothingly. “But you’re stuck with me now. Watch out, Braun. You don’t know what you’re in for.” He twists his wrist to grab your fingers and lifts them to his cheek. The strength drained from your arm, you can’t feel any pain anymore, only the rough skin of his hands, the warmth of his lips as he kisses your limp fingers. Maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe it’s him, but as Reiner meets your eyes, a loopy smile passes over your face. “I’m going to break your heart.”

Lifting his head, he clasps your hand with his other, and rests his chin atop their hands. Squeezing tightly, he swallows and his lips press into a thin line that twitches into a smile that shatters you.

“I think I’ll break yours first.”

In the future, those words would haunt you for years. You’d hear them in your sleep, lingering in the haze between your dreams and reality, and every time you looked over your shoulder, expecting him to be there.

You could never know what he meant until it was too late.

Presently, however, you don’t know any better. 

Frowning, you shake your hand out of his grasp and stretch to touch his face, run a knuckle under his eye. He looks like he’s staring at a corpse, and you want to sit up, hold him to you, run your hands through his hair—a million things you’ll do once you get out of this stupid bed.

For now, you settle on, “Is that… a challenge, Reiner?”

Smile. Please, smile. I’m not going anywhere, idiot. I’m alive, I’m laying right here and you want to marry me—

His eyes flicker over your battered body, to your wrist and shoulder wrapped tight as the muscles try to stitch themselves back together. He presses your hand to his cheek and, with a haunting sadness, he whispers, “No. It’s just the truth.” 

Your heart drops and you open your mouth to argue but he lets go of your hand at that moment, gently lowering it back to the bed before he stands. Cold wind sweeps in, chasing away the heat of his skin, and a hollowing feeling begins to settle inside your gut as he leans over. A pair of lips press between your eyebrows before a nose rubs against yours and you stare dazedly into warm golden eyes that are infinitely empty. They stare right through you.

“Reiner…”

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispers and your entire body yearns to hug him as his mouth slots against yours. Warmth pulsing from his mouth against yours, you arch off the bed. His hand at your neck tilts your chin to deepen the kiss and it is everything you never dreamed of. Gentle, and warm, and sad, and so full of an emotion you can’t name it seeps into you until your whole body is stuffed full of it.

When he draws back, a tear slides down the corner of your mouth yet when you raise an exhausted hand to your face, you’re scalded with the realization that the skin around your eyes is dry.

.

Returning to the barracks after another damn meeting, only an hour or so before Tybur’s damn show, Reiner can’t help but glance at the walls, wondering, wondering, wondering.

Are you listening even here, Magath? 

Porco carries Pieck to the couch, setting her down gently while Reiner heads for the abandoned pot of tea from earlier. Pouring himself a cup, he sucks it down like he needs to breathe, ignoring how cold it is in his gut. Repeating, he hears Pieck’s gentle laugh as Porco crashes down beside her, leaning back against the couch.

“I’ll see you guys later,” Colt says, grabbing his jacket. “I have to go talk to Zeke about something. We’ll meet you guys there?”

“Sounds good.”

“See you later, Grice,” Galliard calls and Reiner barely manages his own farewell before the blond is slipping out of the room. There’s a beat of silence before: “Is it just me or are parents really insistent on their kids reproducing?” he continues to himself. “I was talking to Mom before the meeting and she said something about continuing on the family line. Ugh, as if I could stand a few ticks running around me.”

“You’d trip on them.”

“Exactly. What about me screams that I want to be a dad to some snotty brats?”

“They’d only be snotty because you’d be their father,” Pieck teases. “I heard someone’s mom was being really insistent on their son having grandkids,” she continues, pushing herself up and Reiner glances over to see her black-haired head poking out behind the cushions to send him a curious look. “It’s endearing. She wants little blond grandbabies.”

“Right, that’s not going to happen,” he says as the last drop of tea leaves the teapot and he is left with half a mug left. “I only have just a bit over a year left before I get eaten. Too cruel of a fate to leave a widow and any kids we might have.” He snorts. “Besides, I’m not interested in anyone.”

“I could help with that. You have a lot of admirers, Reiner.”

Yeah, right. “I’m not looking for anyone either, Pieck. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Yeah,” Porco snorts. “I’m sure that’s the reason.”

“Don’t be mean, Pock.” A sigh and a flop and Pieck disappears from sight. “He’s right. I forgot we’re going to get eaten before we know it, and you’re going to be the only one left standing. You’ve gotta train new blood, you know. It’s so weird to think about.” Porco sits up abruptly to look down where he assumes Pieck is laying. Eyes wide, he seems to struggle for words and it’s clear that the reminder has socked him in the gut. To be honest, Reiner finds himself counting down the days at this point. “Dad’s already having a hard time with it.”

He sips on his cold tea, and it weighs like a gun in his mouth. He still remembers the feeling of it on his tongue, the slightly ashy taste of gunpowder that lingered. He still isn’t sure whether or not that part had been his imagination, but it wouldn’t have mattered.

“Pieck, c’mon. Don’t talk like that.”

“Why? It’s just how it is for us Eldians. It makes sense—we get tossed out when our bodies give up on us.”

Porco falls silent. Reiner empties his mug and walks over to set it down in the sink, bracing himself against the countertop and staring down the drain as a heavy silence fills their room.

His time is running out. He’s always been aware of that—painfully scrambling to gather the motivation to even wake up without going through with taking the Armoured Titan from Marley permanently. But... he can’t. He won’t.

He doesn’t know why he never expected you wouldn’t be there when he left. Did he think you would come quietly to Marley? A nation that set up your life the way it is now—a line of dominos one catastrophe after another? That you would come with him easily? The very man who toppled life as you knew it, forced you to join a military you didn’t want to join just to protect people?

Did he think you would still care for the man who left you, left someone who would cling to the pieces of her family left until she was bloody?

He knows that answer.

Wood creaking, he pushes himself off the countertop and heads towards the door. Two pairs of eyes burn into his side but he doesn’t care. Not even when Galliard crows at him.

“Where are you going? We have to go to the show, remember.”

“I’m taking a walk,” he replies shortly, yanking open the door and stepping through. “I’ll be back  in time.”

He needs to get out of here.

.

Reiner helps you ease your arm back into the sling. Although you’re going insane staying in the infirmary while the others are off fighting in Stohess, his patience staves off the edge of fear at the idea of trying to stand up on your horse again. The last time—

Blonde hair. Pale eyes. She saw right through me and stopped.

Annie. It’d been Annie this entire time. Why? Why couldn’t you see it? Could you have prevented two Titans boxing it out in Stohess right now? Shit. 

I should’ve known. I’m such an idiot. Why did it take for Armin to tell me?

“Hey,” Reiner murmurs, kissing your fingers. You blink, staring down at him again and he smiles faintly, straightening up. A soft pair of lips press against your forehead and you lift your head to slot your mouth against his briefly before he pulls back, stroking your cheek and sitting down beside you. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.” Your arm presses against his and you flash him a smile. “We’re on another day of absolutely nothing, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” he affirms. You sigh. The entire morning had been spent with him by your side—breakfast in bed, him bringing you some books to pass the time—but as noon nears, you can’t help but want to get out of here. You can’t even do that. 

“I’m sorry.”

He frowns. “About what?”

“I feel so useless right now. The Commander’s in Stohess, and we’re just here. We should be with him.” Trying to figure out how to capture Annie. Or doing something. “I hate that I got myself hurt. It’s just so frustrating. I should’ve been better. Moved out of the way sooner, or—”

“No. Don’t do that. Don’t shoulder blame that isn’t yours.” Reiner wraps an arm around you, hand pressing the side of your head into his chest and you turn to loop your uninjured arm around his waist. “Hey.” A soft kiss against the crown of your head. “We’re going to be okay. I promise. You’ll heal up, and it’ll be okay.”

“Promise?” you echo weakly, eyes closing. Your heart pounding, you listen to his own and wonder if the same bliss fills his entire body as it does for you whenever you’re around him. Simply holding him close, you close your eyes. I think I love you, you tell him silently. Do you love me, too?

“No matter what. I’ll even put a ring on your finger when this is all over.”

“You remember,” you whisper, and he chuckles quietly, nosing at your hairline. It does nothing for the ache in your heart at the thought of your friend somewhere in Stohess locked like an animal. Is she an animal? A monster? She can’t be, you tell yourself. She’s just Annie. 

Reiner’s finger brushes against your cheek, wiping something away and your eyes open when you realize it’s wet. You’re crying? How hadn’t you noticed? Squeezing him closer, you can’t help your voice from cracking: “Distract me, please. Just… tell me where we’d live. Anything.”

“Where we’d live?” he repeats, strangled, and you nod. “You’d want to come live with me? What about finding your life by the water? Raising kids—“

“Fuck all of that. I just… I just want some peace.” Throat tightening, you close your eyes again. “I want to sleep in on the weekends and I want to kiss you when I wake up, and I—“ Every thought that’s haunted you for the past few months comes back in full force as your voice clots. “I want to stop waking up feeling so heavy. I don’t want any more secrets. I don’t want to fight. I never want to see blood again.”

“Then, how about we go back to my hometown?” he suggests tightly, thumb brushing your cheek before tilting your head up. You look up at him and he smiles faintly. “There’s the biggest lake you’ve ever seen nearby. We can go to the water in the afternoons, eat all this food you’ve never had before.”

“Never had? What is it?” 

He sighs, kissing your lips as his index fingers curls underneath your chin. “That’ll ruin the surprise.” Raising his hand to brush over your brow, he studies your face before cupping your jaw and cocking his head, pressing a brief kiss against the corner of your mouth. Your heart lurches. “But the weather is nice, and there are good people, and we’ll never have to worry about the war again. Sound like a plan?”

You can only nod, trying to imagine the lake he’s talking about—the shape, the shade of water, how the sunlight looks when it hits the surface. Is it cold? Does a river lead into it? All you know is that you want to see it.

“It sounds like a good plan,” you finally whisper, and something in his face softens. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” he continues in low tones, swiping his thumb over your lips and cheek. “I’m sorry if I ever hurt you.”

“You were scared.” You give a one-shouldered shrug, pain spreading through your chest. “Maybe it would’ve been the right choice. You would’ve been rational to just let it go and I would’ve understood if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“No, I would be insane,” he corrects. Your eyebrows knit together. “How could I not feel the same way about someone like you?” 

His words sink into your skin so deeply that the smile that pulls at your face makes you forget, for a moment, about all that’s wrong in the world. Exhaling a soft laugh, you fling your arm around his neck and pull him closer, their noses clashing as your lips find his in a soft kiss and he chuckles, reciprocating tenderly.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

It echoes in your chest like a song that ends too soon.

The infirmary doors open.

Springing away from one another, you look up as Bertholdt, Connie and Sasha come in, none the wiser, although Bertholdt’s eyes narrow at the lingering way your eyes stay on Reiner’s red cheeks. Wiping at your mouth inconspicuously, you adjust your sling with your uninjured hand.

“How are you feeling?” Sasha asks, approaching first and you wiggle your bruised leg gingerly. Dull pain, but manageable. 

“Okay. Sleep really took the edge off.” Taking Reiner’s hand, you ease off the bed and get up as the brunette wraps an arm around your shoulder gingerly. Shuffling closer, you rest your head against hers and lean against her, trying to shake the feeling tingling at your cheeks. Sasha’s infectious heat soothes your nerves either way.

“C’mon. Let’s get you something to eat,” she continues. You glance over your shoulder at the boys who all house similar grins, and you dip your head. “You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sasha—“ You’re cut off by your own laugh as she grabs your hand, pulling you towards the doors.

“What the—“

“Sasha!”

“Slow down, Sasha!” Bertholdt calls as Sasha tries to hide her snickers. Wincing, you still can’t help your smile as you meet her nefarious gaze and you give her a subtle nod. The boys call after them as their fingers interlaced, and Sasha lets out a sharp laugh as she speeds up, tugging you along. “Hey, wait! She’s still hurt!”

“Sasha!”

“Sasha! Lunch isn’t for another hour!”

Breaking into a full sprint, the two girls barrel through headquarters, letting out peals and shrieks of laughter as the boys chase after them, screaming for them to slow down. Despite the thrumming pain in your leg, you can’t help but breathe in the way the wind whizzes past your face as they reach the stairs, jogging down and slipping out of the boys’ view.

Giggling, Sasha whispers about a shortcut and you let her lead you down a hall as the boys’ footsteps patter behind them.

Indeed, when three boys burst into the mess hall, panting and two of them even sweating, they find you two already sitting at a bench across from one another, playing a game of flicking paper at one another, and Sasha, who faces the door, can only maintain a serious face for so long before she bursts into a loud laugh and you hide your smile behind your hand as you glance over your shoulder.

You only last a couple more seconds before you’re breaking down, too.

“Your face! You should see the look on their faces!” Sasha wheezes, slapping a hand over her mouth and trying to silence herself as they come closer, but Bertholdt only looks at them with barely enough anger to scare a baby that it only makes them fall apart even more. 

Connie shoots Sasha a look, wedging himself in beside her with purposeful elbow action while Bertholdt and Reiner sandwich you between them and you send them both look but Bertholdt only rolls his eyes as you clutch your stomach, gasping for breath.

“The cripple can run… faster… than you,” you manage to say achingly, poking him in the arm and you swallow, your stomach cramping up as you cover your face with your hand. “What’s the Survey Corps come to?” Your leg seems to pulse at your words, and you hide a wince as your lungs hitch. A hand settles on your thigh gently, and you look at Reiner. He raises his eyebrows and you clear your throat, voice needly. “I’m okay. Really. It’s just my leg, and even that’s not that bad, I promise.”

A firm squeeze before he lets go. Sasha wipes the last tears from her eyes, sniffing a bit.

“If you say so.”

“At least you have something to do, all injured and stuff. If lunch isn’t going to come any sooner, I think I might die of boredom,” Connie points out. “We’ve been here for like, two days, and we haven’t even gotten any updates.” Bertholdt and Reiner share a look behind you as you grab the last paper ball Sasha had flicked at you and throw it back at Connie. He winces, batting it down to the floor.

Grumbling to himself, the guy ducks under the table to grab it as Reiner gets up. Looking up, you watch as he heads for the corner of the room and you excuse yourself, following after him, still recovering from your laughing high.

Sidling beside the blond, you watch as he crouches beside some cabinets.

“I think there’s a chess set somewhere here,” he explains, opening them up and searching. “Do you know how to play?”

“No.”

“Bertholdt and I do. I can teach you.” You nod, surprised. You know chess has always been a game more suited to the higher ups. You wonder how he knows how to play—who must’ve taught him.

Reiner lets out a noise of triumph and pulls something out. Extracting some books, he ducks his head and manages to pull out a wooden box, something rattling inside. The checkered pattern is a bit faded, but he kicks the cabinet doors shut gently and turns to you, surprised to see you standing so close. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.” You smile softly, leaning towards him, and he cocks an eyebrow. “You’re full of surprises. Who taught you how to play chess?” The only thing blocking them from touching is the chess box between their bodies as he huffs a laugh.

“I had a friend who was older than I was. He was like our leader—knew all this kind of stuff.”

“Really?”

“His father was a doctor, I think,” he explains vaguely and you smile in amusement. “It’s really easy once you get the hang of it. Don’t worry.”

“Alright. You’re on.” You lean up just as Reiner turns his face away, and you reel back, eyes widening. The soft expression melts away and you exhale sharply, following his gaze to see Ymir glancing over her shoulder at them. Krista speaks to one of the other Scouts sitting across from them, leaving the freckled brunette to study them freely, and Reiner clears his throat, stepping back. 

You duck your head, stepping back so Reiner can go ahead first and head towards the table, you following moments later. 

It is easy once you learn the basic moves of each piece. Bishops diagonally, rooks horizontally and vertically, pawns one step at a time. When you don’t understand, Bertholdt explains as Reiner tries to get out of a tight spot he’s been shoved into. You really can’t tell who’s going to win as you study the board, trying to guess what they’ll do next.

Sasha and Connie look out the window, bored out of their minds, waiting for lunch as you point at a piece before Reiner can move it.

“That’ll put you in checkmate for Bertl’s next turn, I think,” you tell him, and Reiner pauses, staring at the board. Bertholdt shoots you a glare and you smile sheepishly as Reiner moves his hand.

“You’re right.” He moves his knight instead and Bertholdt scowls, moving his rook quickly as Reiner crosses his arms again. “You’re good at this.”

“I’ve got a good teacher,” you reply, smiling at him. Leaning forward on your uninjured elbow, you keep watching as Reiner turns the tides of the battle, your eyes dragging from the squares to his face. An unsettling feeling growing in your stomach, you glance at the chess pieces that’ve been taken out of action from the game just as he points out how strange everything is.

Why are we unarmed?

It wasn’t standard for them to be—that, and the lack of new orders is troubling. If anything, they should be out there with their gear on, scanning the walls just to make sure there isn’t another breach. Or even in Stohess. Why weren’t the healthy Scouts there? Wouldn’t it be more ideal for there to be more forces just in case?

Your heart drops. Unless…

Reiner stands and you look at Bertholdt who looks paler than usual.

You didn’t think much of it at first with everyone in their plainclothes, but as Reiner returns to his seat next to you from the window, you look into your lap.

What’s happening? Your eyes flit to the carved chess pieces, the one still standing as Bertholdt takes a pawn from Reiner’s side. What aren’t they telling us?

It’s not until Tomas bursts into the mess hall, demanding you directly to get ready to ride to Stohess do you understand.

“Wall Rose has been breached. You and I are riding back to Stohess to alert Commander Erwin and get you to safety.” You shoot up to your feet as Bertholdt’s and Reiner’s mouths drop open.

“I can fight.”

“There are Titans heading this way now. Without ODM gear, you might as well be dead weight.” It’s harsh, and you flinch as Reiner grabs your hand but you jerk it out of his grasp. “Saddle up, now. That’s an order from Section Commander Miche himself.” You step over the bench as Tomas turns to head out and worried murmurs break out amongst them. Your desperate gaze swings from the door to your friends who all stare at you.

“Guys—“

“Go. We’ll be okay,” Connie says, standing just as a Nanaba lands at the window and you rush out of the mess hall, ignoring the pain in your shin as you run out of the building and towards the stables. Entering, you spot Tomas already guiding out two horses and you take the reins with your hand, shrugging your injured shoulder testily out of its sling. It smarts, sharp pain shooting through you, but you shake your head. 

You’d have to put it back in later. For now, tacking up a horse is your priority. 

What the hell is going on? Bertholdt, Reiner, do you know what’s happening? You guys have to know what to do.

Gritting your teeth and head pulsing with pain, you manage to only be a minute behind Tomas and he helps you with the final fastenings before boosting your step up into the saddle. You take the reins gingerly, determined not to let the pain slowly growing in intensity slow you down as he leads the way out to the road.

The doors burst open as soon as they hit sunlight, and you watch as the other Scouts run for the stables. Moving out of the way, your eyes scan for one blond head in particular as Tomas calls for you to get going.

“Wait, give me a second!” Wretchedly, your ears begin to pound. “I’ll catch up to you!”

Tomas does not wait. He shakes his head, snaps his reins, and gallops out of base without another second to lose.

“Creampie!” The name makes your head swivel and you see him at last near the rear, probably to make sure no one detoured, and you wait for him to run up to you as your mare tosses her mane impatiently, pawing at the ground.

Reining her back in, you feel Reiner’s hand on your thigh before he stops beside you and you wish you could say a million things, but the most you can muster is, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He smiles. “How could I? You promised to marry me, didn’t you? Wouldn’t miss that for the world.” Winking, he runs into the stable without another word, and your heart lurches as Bertholdt passes, squeezing your knee comfortingly and sending you a determined nod.

You give him a nod in return before grabbing the reins and taking off towards Wall Rose, following the path of dust Tomas had kicked up in his wake.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter eleven - “there’s a reason behind everything”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2k

synopsis: bucky and y/n endure an event of stressful affliction, followed by something... entrancing.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

It had been a few days. There hadn't been any more headaches or vomiting. He was glad that Y/N faced no more impediments after that. However, he can't say the same for himself.

The thrashing was violent, his limbs wrenching, muscles tensing. The sheet beneath him was damp from cold sweat. He hadn't had a nightmare this bad in a while.

Ghastly memories assaulted him, ripping him from reality and forcing him back into agony, torture, and trauma. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, but he wasn't sure if that was in the nightmare or real life. The lines of reality and dreamscape faded. He couldn't tell if he was awake, and panic metastasized throughout his body.

His arms were strapped down - yes, two of them. He couldn't tell if the other was metal or not; the only thing he could register was that he had zero control. He was exposed and helpless and right back where he was before. He had never gotten out. Hydra still had their chains around his neck, choking the humanity out of him, and violating his autonomy to make a monster out of a man.

He felt like a caged animal. All there existed was terror; he needed to get out and he didn't care if he had to cut off a body part to do it. He jerked his body and pulled his arms as hard as he could. He thrashed and thrashed, desperately trying to somehow find a way out of this hell. He tried to scream but his lungs were frozen, cracked and collapsed from the ice that they defiled him with.

Every nerve in his body was ignited, screeching to try to escape. The only coherent thought in his head was "get out." Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get out. Get—

The top of his head suddenly burned, pain radiating out in beats, like a heart rate. It was then when he realized he was awake. It was then when he realized he had flung himself up, causing his head to collide with the wooden slats of the top bunk. It was also at this point when he heard her voice.

"Bucky!" her voice shook intensely, worry bubbling from the back of her throat. "Oh my god."

Faintly, the fear in her voice registered somewhere in the back of Bucky's brain, but this had no effect on his entirely overstimulated nervous system. His reaction was visceral; he flinched hard, jolting away from Y/N and falling off the side of the bed. The floor was cold; he could feel it in his hand and knees as he knelt on all fours (all threes?) trying to catch his breath.

Y/N hurried around the bed and immediately dropped to the floor in front of him. Her hands were quivering in front of her, completely unsure of how he would react to being touched.

His eyes were glued to the floor beneath him, but in his peripheral he could see Y/N's legs. Suddenly, she knelt on her hands, trying to be as non-threatening as she could.

"Buck," she whispered. "It was a nightmare. It was just a nightmare. You're here, and you're just fine."

"Fuck," he whispered. His body was on fire; he wished it'd just calm down.

"Your hand's on the floor. What does the floor feel like?" she asked, in an attempt to detour his attention.

"Cold," he strained.

"Cold, yeah," she said. "Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"It's because it's made of stone. Stone has a high thermal conductivity, which means it allows heat to flow through it quickly. The heat from your skin goes right into it and flows through really fast."

He pivoted his wrist slightly, smoothing the skin on his hand over the stone, feeling the cold, and thinking about what Y/N said.

She smiled slightly. "There's a reason behind everything, you know. An explanation."

"Even for this?" he asked, referencing the panic.

"Especially for this. What are you feeling right now?"

"Can't breathe."

"Yep. Okay, that's normal, too. That's your nervous system. It's really riled up right now because you're stressed. See, your body has a natural response to stress called the fight or flight response. It's supposed to be used in the wild to run from a predator or something, and you can imagine how engaging and intense that would be on your body," her voice was calm and steady. "The only thing is, your body is going through those same functions and feelings when you're not out running from a lion or something, trying to fight for your life. Instead, you're here. You're sitting on the floor and you're here with me. You're not in any immediate danger. We're fine."

He nodded, still looking down, still trying to compose himself. He couldn't look her in the eyes once he realized his face was wet from tears. He was acutely embarrassed. Be that as it may, she was helping. What she said made sense. It helped to understand just what his body was doing rather than simply trying to survive through it.

Suddenly, directly where his eyes were cast, a drop of crimson appeared on the floor; it dripped down from him. It was then when he registered the sharp ache in his nose and the warm, wet feeling around it. Blood.

"Bucky, there's- blood, are you okay?" The calm in her voice was muffled by worry.

"Y-Yeah, I'm... I'm fine. It's just my nose..."

"What can I do?"

"Can you just... keep talking?"

"Yes," she breathed, the calm returning with infinite softness. "So, there are a few divisions of the nervous system. First, you have the central nervous system and the peripheral nervous system. Then, from the peripheral, you have the somatic and autonomic systems. And then from autonomic, you have the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems. Those are what you're feelin' right now. Your sympathetic is what gets you ramped up - you know, increases in heart rate, breathing, sweating. And then your parasympathetic is what calms you down, so slowing your heart rate and breathing and so on. Your sympathetic activated the fight or flight response, and your parasympathetic is trying to rein you back in... I hope that makes sense."

"It does."

"You know the hormone that gets released during all this?"

"Adrenaline's the only one I can think of."

"There you go!" she smiled. "It comes from the adrenal glands."

"Can I get those removed, then?"

"Unfortunately not. Do you still have your tonsils?"

"Nah, got those taken out forever ago."

"Appendix?"

"I think I still have that one?"

She laughed. "Well that's good. The appendix is sorta kinda part of the lymphatic system."

"The what?"

"Er- immune system I mean."

"Never knew that," he commented.

"There's a reason behind everything, you know," she quoted herself endearingly.

"An explanation," he said, completing the sentiment and finally looking up.

Upon seeing his face, Y/N  tried to hide her shock and concern, but he noticed. The apprehension was clear. He didn't want to be pitied; he wished he would've just suffered through this alone in a hole or something.

"There you are," she whispered.

Her voice was so gentle that his chest almost cramped, and then his entire body softened. Never mind. He'd much rather stay.

"Here I am."

She reached forward, ever so delicately, and smoothed the pads of her thumbs along his cheeks, effectively wiping away the tears. Effectively removing the physical aftermath of his pain.

She gave a strained smile. Why did he feel bad?

"Stay here," she instructed before getting up.

He'd do nothing but comply.

She came back with a damp white cloth, returning to her kneeling position in front of him.

"Here," she breathed, putting the cloth up to his nose.

He reached up to grab it, but her hand pulled away.

"I got it," she reassured.

He wasn't about to allow her to clean up his mess. This was pathetic enough as it was; he was pathetic enough as he was. She didn't need to tend to him out of obligation.

He insisted. "No, it's okay. I can do it."

"Bucky, let me help. Please."

"You don't have to. Seriously, it's fine."

"I know I don't have to - I want to. I want to help. Please just let me help."

He found he wasn't very good at saying no to her. He nodded silently, closed his eyes, and leaned his head forward. She got to work, gently dabbing the cloth to his blood stained skin, blotting the red, erasing the damage.

"You know," she said, a slight inflection in her voice as a result of her concentration. "I think you accidentally hit yourself in your sleep. I think that's why you're bleeding. 'Cause your head hit the top bunk, not your face."

"I'm really that talented, huh?"

She snickered. "Very. I don't know if I could manage such a feat."

"No, if you had nightmares, you'd probably just know exactly what each one meant and adjust your subconscious so you weren't afraid anymore."

She leaned back, an amused but shocked expression on her face, eyebrows raised, head tilted. Then she laughed.

"Look at you. Came for my neck with that one."

"I was just joking-"

"I know," she chuckled, leaning back in to continue her diligent work, "don't worry. I thought it was funny... even though it was wrong."

"Wrong?"

"Bucky, I wish I had that much control. I know the brain, but I can't work with mine that well. I'm only good at working with other people's."

He smirked. "Nah, I still think you could."

"Well, you have too much faith in me."

He couldn't think of a response to that. He had become decently distracted by the warmth radiating from her. She was so close. He thought back to what she said about heat conductivity, and briefly wondered how fast her warmth might transfer to him. What would happen if he just... opened his eyes-

Big mistake. He nearly drowned in the color, the depth all consuming. He hadn't noticed her movements stopped. She held the cloth at her chest, waiting. There were mere inches between them.

"Hi," she whispered, the ends of her mouth turning up ever so slightly.

He didn't think his body had ever been so still. He returned the smile all the same.

"Hi."

"What are you thinkin'?"

He could see every detail on her face. It made him equal amounts nervous and giddy. He never really thought about the number of eyelashes an average person had, but he became suddenly interested in counting each one of hers.

"I don't... I don't know..."

"You don't know? Well, it looks like there's at least a couple of hefty thoughts swirlin' around in there."

He did have a thought. Well, more of a question. What would happen if he glanced at her lips? What would happen if he just leaned in?

"Yeah... yeah, there may be a few."

When she didn't respond, her eyes bore into him, and dear lord, he felt bare. Eye contact is a dangerous, dangerous thing. But lovely. Oh, so lovely. And then that thing started to happen again: when time got lazy and the world felt slow. The room was without a sound. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat and maybe some of hers, too. It's as if they were in a trance.

Then, that thought returned. What would happen if he just leaned in?  Rationally, he knew he shouldn't try to find the answer to that question. Nonetheless, curiosity beckoned him. Had the space between them become smaller? He couldn't tell. Not even an inch of their skin was touching the other, but every sensation and perception was so overwhelming, he thought his brain might fizzle out.

She was just so, so close. He was frozen, and never wanted to move again. She was so close, until suddenly she wasn't. Until suddenly, the trance stopped, time caught up, and the world began to move once more. Until suddenly, Y/N's serene smile disappeared, and she leaned back, awkwardly clearing her throat.

"Does your nose hurt? I can see if I can come up with a makeshift icepack or something."

"Uh, no. No, it's fine. I don't even feel it..."

He wondered which feeling he was denying.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie