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niffala · 1 year

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Xanax & Things That go Bump in the Night (Pt. 1)

Pairing: Steve Harrington / Vampire!Eddie Munson

Summary: Something in the dark was calling out to him, that seemed fairly normal in Hawkins. The frightening part was how badly Steve wanted to answer.

Warnings: angst, talks of therapy and medication and side effects, nightmares, overthinking, some signs of ptsd, scars, stalking, pining, drinking, dark thoughts, bad parenting but great friends

A/N: Takes place fall of ‘86. No stealing, no reposts, no translations, no feeding to AIs. Comments, reblogs and likes are always welcome and appreciated.

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Chapter 1

Steve was sick of bad days. It felt as if the last three years had been one never ending bad day. Ever since that other dimension started bleeding through into his own. Opening his eyes and forcing him to rebuild his identity from the ground up. He was a better person, but his life wasn’t sunshine and roses. Strange and dangerous was his new wheelhouse. He had no choice but to embrace it.

When the smoke over Hawkins cleared, things became eerily quiet. Repairs were made, most businesses reopened. Some residents returned to town, others moved on. Life went back to almost normal. The remaining caution tape and hazard signs were the only evidence that anything had been wrong.

It figures, out of all the fights he’s lost, the one he technically won did the most damage. Those damn demobats took their pound of flesh and left… something. Not the rabies that Robin was concerned about, but a poison that lingered deep in his bones, crawling through his veins. He didn't have a name for it, wouldn’t even call himself sick, but he could feel it all the same. There was something inside him that shouldn’t be.

His body healed from the physical damage, but it would live with him always. More scars added to his ever growing collection. Not too long ago he proudly had baby-butt skin. Smooth, pampered and flawless. He wasn't going to win any beauty contests now. Well, maybe if he wore a turtleneck the whole time. Robin tried to convince him it made him look rugged and mysterious. That the ladies would dig it. Dating seemed a waste of time, though. There were far more important things to worry about.

Days passed in a meaningless fog. Steve hadn't been feeling like himself. He used to be outside for hours; sunbathing, swimming, hanging out. Now he sought shade after thirty minutes, his head pounding and eyes blurry. His hair became limp and lifeless. People were starting to notice. He had to pull himself together. He couldn’t fall apart, they needed him. He refused to break.

So he lived with the pain, acting like he was okay. Lying.

Luckily there wasn't much sun indoors. He'd feel like too much of a douche wearing sunglasses inside now. The glare from the front window at Family Video got to him though. When the sun would hit just right to illuminate the floating dust, stealing the breath from his lungs. His eyes would find Robins and she knew. She always knew. She'd squeeze his hand tight and wait. It was all they could do, the next attack could be at any time.

He'd remind himself that he wasn't some cowardly bedwetter. He could handle whatever the next wave of the Upside Down brought. He would remain vigilant. They all had to. There were so few of them to fight this, while the rest of the town buried their heads in the sand. If they failed, it was goodbye Hawkins, goodbye everything.

Steve couldn't stop smiling the day Robin convinced their boss that staging all the cardboard cutouts in front of the window in new ways would pull in customers. “Think about it. It's great advertising while simultaneously making the store look new and interesting and crowded, just packed with people. Which would make more people come in wondering what the hullabaloo was.” Moving the cutouts once a week was added to their job description. Work became easier once more.

Unfortunately, he remained exhausted on a level he didn't have the words for. The headaches, increasing anxiety, and dark thoughts ran on repeat. Phantom teeth and claws raked down his body, ripping him open, a thick tail winding around his throat. He couldn’t shake it. The Upside Down decided it hadn't taken enough from him, it was coming for his mind.

He found ways to cope. He'd sneak his moms valium until she began counting the pills. Taking the lot with her on her travels, leaving Steve vulnerable to things his mind refused to forget. Days filled with dread, his heart pounding. Seeing his friends ripped apart every time he closed his eyes.

Received a beating for drinking his way through his grade-A-asshole father's liquor, before hauling himself to a psychiatrist. (Aka Robin and Dustin dragging him there under protest.) That in itself was a challenge. Too many things he couldn't talk about. All the shit he and his friends had been through, the things they've seen, the government cover ups. How his panic attacks were rooted in real fears and experiences. Couldn't admit the nightmares he woke up screaming from were memories. So many secrets he had to keep close to his chest to keep others safe.

His doctor put him on Xanax. It helped a bit, every nerve wasn't on edge every moment of the day anymore. But it also made him groggy, and his mouth felt full of cotton. His chances of dying in the bathroom greatly increased because he was in there so much. What an embarrassing way to go.

There was no stopping the demons in his sleep. His dreams consumed with monsters, spilt blood and the lives lost in defense of a town that would never know. One face in particular haunted him. The emotions he never got the chance to explore. Each morning he awoke violently, drenched in sweat, as he desperately fought his way back to reality. A part of him longing to remain unconscious to continue seeing the boy he failed to protect. Please, just five more minutes.

Steve can't escape the feeling of being watched at night. Of a presence lurking nearby. Shadows moved with a life of their own, reaching out for him. A thud on his window when he cut himself shaving. By the time he looked outside, it was gone. Whatever was stalking him was fast, he was always just missing it.

His doctor called it paranoia, but he knew better. Was he sensing Vecna like Will, or cursed like Max? The poison that took root in his body gave him goosebumps on the back of his neck, alerting him that something was out there. If not Vecna, then what, the bats? Did his infected blood recognize them? Was that a thing now? He swore he heard the flapping of leathery wings on numerous nights.

He'd been checking in with Hopper. There had been no reports of attacks or sightings. No activity at the gates or anywhere else. It has been peaceful, not even a storm had come through, somehow that seems like a bad thing. The Upside Down was simply biding its time to unleash something big and devastating. What if it was something worse than they've faced before? What if they lost this time?

Unfortunately for Steve, he can't convince himself it's his imagination, or a side effect of the medication. He knows of too many dangerous things that run rampant in the darkness. Hawkins was a breeding ground for evil. He wasn't foolish enough to run outside alone searching for trouble. The kids did a good enough job doing that, which is precisely why he hasn't spoken a word of this to them.

As much as he complains about being the babysitter, or as Robin calls him; mother hen, he misses the kids when they go home. When he's alone again, just like the countless days growing up. Only now his thoughts are twisted and broken, full of horrors and pain. Instead of girls, sports, popularity and how to win his parents approval.

After the earthquake, housing became surprisingly affordable, so he and Robin rented a small place. Somewhere they could both unapologetically be themselves. It was definitely one of the best decisions they've made.

Steve found himself alone again tonight. He felt... exposed. No Robin to ground him, no kids to distract him. Not that it stopped him from worrying about them. Robs wasn't home because she finally found the courage to ask Vickie on date. He was proud of her.

He thought about ways to pass the time. Maybe he should head to the store to restock their food. Steve learned the hard way that if left up to Robin, they'd end up with a cupboard full of Pop-Tarts, Doritos and Dr Pepper. It was up to him to make sure they had some variety in their diet. However, the sun had already set and he could tell It was close tonight.

Energy thrummed across Steve's flesh, his sides ached. The worst of his scars practically burned with the urge created by something pulling him outside. Not graceful like magnets, more like one of those poor baby cows. Forced to comply, lassoed, knocked off its feet, and dragged away. In truth, he wanted to walk out the door and into the arms of whatever awaited him. Longed for it. But he couldn't let that happen. He refuses to give in.

Steve takes another pill out of the bottle and swallows it dry, before getting into bed. He'll just go to sleep and ignore it. No sooner had his head hit the pillow, that the wind began calling out to him. Horrified that it knew his name, he covers his ears. It's not real. It's not real.

The haunting voice continued, echoing in his head. It was everywhere. The pull intensified. Steve shoved his head under his pillow, begging it to shut up. And it did. It all suddenly stopped.

He cautiously removed the pillow and sat up. It must have left. He breathed a sigh of relief. Thank - what the fuck was that?!?! Steve nearly fell out of bed hearing a series of loud banging. Something was knocking on his front door.

As he neared, the sound grew louder. It was pounding so hard, Steve was shocked the wood didn't splinter. Grabbing his baseball bat, he threw open the door, ready to strike. He was not prepared for what greeted him.

This wasn’t right, warning bells should be ringing, he should be running. A million questions swirled in his head, but nothing came out. Steve remained frozen in place, mouth hanging open, unable to tear his eyes away from the familiar stranger. This couldn't be real, could it?

The man leaned against the door frame. His toothy grin sent shivers up Steve's spine.

“You gonna invite me in, big boy?”

Chapter 2

#niffala fics #steddie angst #steve harrington angst #eddie munson angst #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie

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ryqoshay · 2 years

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Unstable World: Ophanim

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Rating: T Words: 654 Fandom: Love Live Sunshine Parent Fic: Unstable World Time Frame: Sometime during the main story AU: A dimension other than ours Event: Promptober 2022 Event Source: Idol Fanfic Heaven channel on Discord Prompt: Seven

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Author’s Note: Primary entry for Oct 6th

Summary: Yoshiko reviews a battle she doesn’t remember

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“Ne, Riri.”

“Yes, Yocchan?”

“You know what happened to me, right? Why I’m like this?” Yoshiko motioned to herself.

After laying in a coma-like state for days, under observation of the Imperial Navy on a mobile sea base, the Emperor of Shinmizu was finally home. The first thing Yoshiko did was discard You’s white gown in favor of dark grey pajamas. She had opted for light material as she was still radiating warmth since her change. And her hair was still shimmering white and her eyes still gold.

“I’m still not sure.” Riko replied honestly. “Hanamaru-chan gave me a video Ai-chan recorded though.”

“Can I see it?”

“Yes, but…”

“I’ll be fine… maybe?”

Riko handed her wife the device as the couple sat on the edge of their bed. Despite it being URS tech, Yoshiko intuited its use and began playback, skipping through most of the battle to when the Paragon’s kraken thing attacked. She flinched as she watched Riko blasted out of the sky and glanced over at her wife’s new mechanical arm. Then came the part Yoshiko sought. She watched herself go all out on the kraken before it hit her with a direct attack.

“Is that me?” Yoshiko watched the giant eye grow into an enormous gold ring lined with more eyes before splitting into three identical rings with an even larger eye hovering in their shared center. “Wow… wish I’d known I could do that earl… wait, seven wings?” She paused the reply. “Why seven? Why not six? Or better yet, since there’s three rings, three sets of six.”

Riko raised an eyebrow. That was her issue?

“I spent years refining the ugly powers the Paragon cursed me with.” Yoshiko continued. “I crafted myself specifically in a fallen angel style and this is my ultimate form? I mean yeah, sure I guess I’m terrifying with my ungodly amount of eyes and my size and whatnot, but those are clearly classic angel wings. And seven of them, to add insult to injury.” She crossed her arms and huffed in frustration. “Also, how do the Paragon know about ophanim anyway?”

“Opha… wha?” Riko blinked.

“Ophanim.” Yoshiko repeated. “That’s what I am here. Apparently, they turned me into a wheel of God’s throne, one of the highest celestial beings, higher than all classes of angels. Or the highest class, depending on who you ask.”

“How do you…”

“Yohane knows her celestial stuff, Riri.”

“Right, sorry.” Riko apologized. “But… it has been theorized that the Paragon’s homeworld is just a different dimension of our own. Perhaps there is some shared history between us?”

“Hrm… maybe…” Yoshiko pursed her lips and unpaused the video. “Ok, that’s pretty cool.” She commented, watching the kraken, one of the carriers, and two destroyers consumed in a colossal column of conflagration. “Eh? That’s it?” She asked as the recording ended.

“According to others, you did that same thing to the rest of the Paragon fleet.” Riko explained. “You singlehandedly ended the battle in minutes.”

“Wow… I… guess I can see why everyone’s afraid of…” Yoshiko cut off as Riko placed a finger on her lips.

“I think they’re afraid for you.” Riko said softly. “You saved everyone, but it clearly took a lot out of you, and it’s still affecting you.”

Yoshiko hung her head and pulled a lock of hair over her shoulder. “About that…”

“Yocchan is still Yocchan.”

Yoshiko turned her golden eyes up toward her wife.

“Yocchan is still Yocchan.” Riko repeated. “Tsushima Yoshiko is still the Emperor of Shinmizu. Your people still look up to you. They may have been unsure about how to handle you in your condition, but they cared for you as best they could.” How well they did is up for debate… She added silently, remembering the sparce trappings of the sea rig.

Yoshiko leaned her head against Riko’s shoulder and released a soft sigh. “Thanks, Riri…”

Riko hummed an affirmation and wrapped an arm around her wife’s shoulders to pull her closer.

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Author’s Note Continued: This was the first idea that came to mind when I saw the prompt. Sorta. ***SPOILERS*** for my other fics about her, but I actually wanted to have a different AU Yohane make this joke first, but I haven’t gotten to the essential reveal yet in that story. Maybe next month, as I really want to start working on a particular arc I have planned soon.

Also, I dragged my feet in writing this initially as I was worried I would be unable to fit in enough exposition in 4k characters that this story could mostly stand on its own and not have prior works be absolute required reading. Are there finer details that do require as such? Yes. Does the overall point stand on its own? I hope so.

Also also, due to my procrastination and subsequent haste to get this written, I neglected to work in last year’s prompt - something I’ve been challenging myself to do, and have been succeeding so far. As such, I rushed to write a bonus entry that would include it, which I will be posting after this.

#YohaRiko #YohsiRiko #Sakurauchi Riko #Tsushima Yohane #Unstable World #Love Live Sunshine #Promptober 2022 #fanfic

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nightblessed · 6 years

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1 reVAMPed tag dumpー

#did yall see what i did there #wink wonk #❴　self　❵↬❛I WAS IN DARKNESS　ーSO DARKNESS I BECAME❜#❴　aesthetics　❵↬❛ROBES AND FURR'D GOWNS HIDE ALL❜#❴　ic.　❵↬❛HUNT WITH BLOODIED FEET ACROSS THE HALLOWED GROUND❜#❴　ooc.　❵↬❛MAY YOUR THIRST BE QUENCHED.❜#❴　musings　❵↬❛DARKNESS AND NIGHT ARE MOTHERS OF THOUGHT❜#❴　crack　❵↬❛WHO SPIKED THE BLOOD WINE?❜#❴　asks　❵↬❛IF IT'S THE SENATE ー GO AWAY❜#❴　prompts　❵↬❛DEAD LETTERS SENT TO DEAREST HIM❜#❴　yuuki　❵↬❛THE SUN'S RAYS;　（ーAND I WAS SELFISH)❜#❴　kaname&eiri　❵↬❛WHO IS THE LAMB　（ーAND WHO IS THE KNIFE?)❜#❴　ai　❵↬❛SUNSHINE AFTER YEARS OF DARK❜#❴　zero　❵↬❛BLOOD BRIMMED THE CURSE❜

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starkeristheendgame · 3 years

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P.E.T.E.R | Android!Peter AU

TW: Non-applicable.

Three years and relentless experimentation alongside some of the biggest names in adjacent fields and biological science had concluded in one of Tony’s boldest, most groundbreaking inventions yet.

The Protection Engineered Tactical Enforcement Robot - or, P.E.T.E.R for short, was the first and technically seventh of it’s kind. It was the first to reach this stage of the process; first to become whole, ready for activation.

Seventh because prior to this all the other shells had failed. The careful craft of a body compounded from a variety of materials such as vibranium, polysiloxane and STEM cells of real flesh had been no easy journey.

So much so that Tony had almost, almost given up. His first vision had failed; Ultron a dark red stain on his ledger no amount of saving lives would ever scrub off; and attempting to perfect Ultron’s failed attempt at a new form was a seemingly impossible dream.

Until now.

He set a hand against the glass of the Cradle, watching it’s slow and careful progress. They were at the point now where everything was just finishing touches; polishing off edges and smoothing crinkles. The shell - or, body, as he preferred to call it, was ready.

And likewise, so was the AI that would directly operate within it. Crafted from JARVIS’ core and meticulously coded and raised to avoid Ultron’s boundless genocidal activism, PETER was the pinnacle of artificial, sentient defence.

JARVIS had been carefully raising the code like a child, educating and guiding it with the attentive care of a paternal figure. Tony had watched the code progress from the barest flickers of artificial life to fast rivalling JARVIS for it’s abilities.

PETER was already outperforming even the Sentinels and some of Tony’s other AI’s like FRIDAY, displaying all of Ultron’s self-learning and intuition without any of the socio-psychopathic tendencies his original attempt had cultivated. PETER was learning twice as fast as even JARVIS had, though PETER was still so young and underexposed.

It had fast outgrown Tony’s initial purpose of sentient AI used in protection detail and critical warfare in order to minimise human loss. It was even on track to surpass Ultron, the notion of the human mind recreated through code seemingly brought to life.

He let his hand drop. Three days. Three days, and PETER would open it’s eyes for the first time.

They passed by like a dreamscape. A blur of tests and activity, checks and re-checks and fending off Fury’s healthy but annoying doubts and insistence of supervision.

In the twenty-four hours before PETER went live, Tony didn’t sleep a wink. He sat on a chair besides the Cradle, staring at the still form within. The lab around him was dark, filled only with the soft glow of the Cradle’s light. It was the first and closest Tony would ever get to sitting besides a medical bassinet, watching his newborn child sleep.

“Do you think he’s ready?” he asked quietly, tracing the line of a long, lithe arm against the glass.

“I have no doubts,” JARVIS answered steadily. “But if I may, Sir, it appears that you do.”

“Ultron..” Tony couldn’t bring himself to finish.

“Goodness cannot be guaranteed even in people,” JARVIS began. “There is no law to the human mind - not yet. It is a dice roll. And in attempting to recreate the human mind, you must accept the law of chance also.”

Sometimes Tony wondered where JARVIS got so wise. It certainly hadn’t been Tony’s own wisdom passed down.

“Ultron was one possibility out of many. There was logic in his perspective; complicated and flawed as it was. But for what it is worth… I believe PETER is the roll of the dice you were hoping for.”

“Me too, J,” he murmured lowly, counting the dusting of freckles across a dished nose. “Me too.”

At exactly 10:15 on August 10th, Tony tapped his index finger onto the glowing icon that transferred PETER’s consciousness into the body specifically crafted to house it.

Three years of blood, sweat and tears condensed into a single breathtaking moment of will it work? Right now there is no intent to go further than that. Everything in the future hinged purely on the result of the initial binding. It was all well and good to use machinery to twitch a few fingers or some coding to test optic reception, but this…

This was a baby’s first breath.

Above him in the glass gallery stood Dr. Banner, Dr. Cho and Director Fury; three sets of eyes watching with expectant wariness.

Transfer complete.

With a soft hiss and a cascade of cold fog, the Cradle unlatched and the lid slowly lifted, revealing the naked form within to the outside air for the first time. The lines of lights had turned a soft blue to indicate the success of the transfer and the activation of Happy Birthday Protocol.

For several agonising moments nothing happened. A pensive silence settled over the room like the cinematic foreshadowing in a horror movie right before the creature leapt out from behind a tree, but then -

Then two sets of thick, long lashes lifted steadily upwards, revealing a set of whiskey coloured eyes, carefully shade matched to Tony’s favourite brand of bourbon in the sunshine of a Hawaiian summer.

A trail of artificial blue flared up in those irises after a moment, forming a complete ring that glowed brighter before fading. Successful initiation of the camera and imaging technology within them, Tony knew. Now, PETER was seeing. Looking through it’s own eyes for the first time rather than the borrowed lenses of JARVIS and the other Tower technology.

For the longest while, PETER only lay there. Communicating with JARVIS, he suspected. Coming to terms with existing. Figuring out who and what it was, realising it was alive for the first time. Slowly learning every inch and microchip of it’s new form.

It’s fingers twitched. It’s sculpted chest rose on a smooth, deep inhale. And then PETER sat up, moved, and they looked at each other for the first time.

Tony let him look, staring and analysing just as much as the AI. PETER had been sculpted to look somewhere between 16 and 18, a combination of features pulled from several thousand sample images and pre-analysed bodies.

PETER had turned out inexplicably pretty.

His beauty was almost effeminate. He had deep-set, almond shaped eyes framed by a generous set of lashes. His brows were long and sculpted into neat slopes; save the left, which had a curious discrepancy that gave PETER an overall quizzical look.

His jaw was sharp and his cheekbones were high and his nose was button-like and proportional. His mouth was wide and his lips were a dusky pink and his dark hair was thick and soft, ever so slightly wavy where it fell around his brows and temples.

Beyond his face PETER had been sculpted with the musculature of a gymnast, not quite slender but not the obnoxious stature of someone like Steve Rogers, either. Something a little softer, lean and deceptive. His skin was creamy and there was miles of it, unmarred and smooth, hairless.

Tony wondered what he looked like in comparison, in Peter’s eyes. Old and weathered, scarred from temple to toe. An odd mix of pale and tan where he never seemed to have the time to sunbathe anymore. Toeing the line of forty-five there was a hint of grey at his temples and while he wasn’t rocking a beer gut there was a softness to his hips that stubbornly refused to leave.

PETER’s head tilted ever so slightly.

“Did you have nice dreams, sleepyhead?” he broke the thick silence, watching those brows furrow lightly for a moment as the Ai thought about it’s answer.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” it replied carefully. Like it’s body, PETER’s voice had been crafted from thousands of samples to create something unique and personalised. The end result was something high and soft, fresh with youth and sweetness.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked next.

“Yes,” came the answer, without hesitation. “Anthony Edward Stark. You made me. Like you made the others.”

Tony clapped his hands together. “Just call me Daddy Stark,” he teased, spreading his arms.

“Yes, Daddy,” came the answer, and sweet Christ. That would have to be stopped immediately.

But PETER wasn’t paying attention to him anymore. He was looking up, gaze fixed on the figures above and behind Tony. He turned to follow the line of sight. Arden looked elated and perhaps a little misty-eyed, to her side Bruce seemed caught between amazement and apprehension and to her other side Fury was, as always, impassive and unreadable.

Tony turned back and watched PETER look, studying the neutral curiosity.

“J, how’s he doing?” he asked quietly.

“All systems are calibrated or calibrating and fully operational,” JARVIS answered into the earpiece that he wore. PETER’S gaze dropped, falling on him. Synced up to everything around them just like JARVIS, PETER could hear every word.

Tony gave a low hum then reached for the Rubix Cube on the desk. He held it out to PETER, who stared at it for a handful of seconds before reaching out. Their hands didn’t touch as PETER took it, and Tony wasn’t sure if he was thankful or not.

PETER studied the toy for a moment, then long, slender fingers flipped and pushed and pulled.

“Nought-point-twenty-five seconds,” JARVIS announced, when PETER was left sitting with the solved puzzle on his upturned palm. That was point-eleven seconds faster than the current AI record, and Tony let out a soft sound, caught between being impressed and that dark little voice that sounded too much like Howard, whispering that point-eleven wasn’t fast enough.

He took the toy away and instead held out his hand, suppressing a shiver when PETER’s soft palm fell to his. He stepped aside, thumb rubbing absently against the temperate, soft flesh of the back of PETER’s hand as he watched the AI stand.

The movement was steady, calculated, the AI finding it’s own balance before Tony let it go. PETER was four inches shorter than he was and it was a novelty to look down at someone for once.

PETER looked down at his legs for a moment, little toes wiggling against the cool floor. Then he looked up, above Tony and to the viewing balcony again.

“Do you know who they are?” Tony asked him lowly.

“Dr. Arden Cho,” PETER began, lifting a dainty hand to point. “Dr. Robert Bruce Banner. S.H.I.E.L.D Director Nicholas Joseph Fury.”

Banner looked uncertain at being pointed at and Fury was watching them with his usual cold disconnect, like a lion might watch an ant. Tony supposed it was fair, given the circumstances of his last little experiment.

“Do me a favor, kiddo,” Tony hummed, waggling his fingers at their audience with a smirk as he leaned in. “Send a little message to Fury. Tell him I can see a booger.”

PETER blinked at him, but moments later Fury’s frown deepened and the man shifted, pulling out his phone. Tony watched gleefully as Fury looked back down at them slowly.

He didn’t need a degree in lip reading to know what Fury mouthed at him.

“Excellent,” he clapped his hands.

The next week was full of tests, ranging from technological to logical and moral-based. PETER passed them all flawlessly and Tony found himself growing prouder and more enthralled.

The AI was graceful in a way that came with inhumanity - movements smooth, calculated. Never over-stepping or reaching too far to one side. Tony kept him in the Cradle when they weren’t testing him - at least until Fury was satisfied that PETER wasn’t immediately going to initiate the apocalypse, anyway.

Three weeks after PETER was ‘born’, he was given the all clear by Fury.

“Look at you, out of your cradle and into a big-boy bed,” Tony announced, opening the door to the guest room he’d set up in a mimic of a teenage boy’s, with some additions made for PETER’s special needs.

PETER roamed the room slowly, trailing his fingertips over everything and peering out of the glass wall at the city below. He stood there for the longest time, and then carefully made his way back to where Tony had stood, watching.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark,” the android whispered, reaching out. Tony automatically stiffened as slim arms wrapped around him and Peter’s head came to lay on his chest, tucked down and eyes closed.

He shifted, hands hovering. He hadn’t been hugged in… A year, maybe. Longer? Not a real hug like this. The last had been Rhodey, maybe, just days after Pepper had announced she was leaving him for good, Gucci bag in hand.

“Yeah, yeah. Okay. No problem, kid,” he breathed out, patting him atop the head. It was awkward, but it was… Nice, too. To wrap his arms around something instead of his pillow for a change.

He gently pushed PETER away after a moment, deliberately keeping his gaze away as Peter moved to the bed, sitting down on it lightly. He seemed almost surprised by it’s softness, bouncing once, then twice.

“This is… Pleasant,” PETER decided. And Tony knew it was just a comparison between the Cradle, but it still made him smile a little.

“Should be. It’s the same as mine.”

PETER’s head tipped. “Where is the logic behind using money and resources to replicate a sleeping space for a robot, Mr. Stark?”

Tony shifted, acutely uncomfortable. It felt like even JARVIS was watching; waiting for an answer.

“I intend for you to live a life that reasonably replicates that of a real person,” Tony settled on, arms folding defensively. “I’m undecided on who will have the liberty of knowing what you are. As such I have to be prepared for the outcome of peddling you as a real person. An adopted child, maybe.”

And wouldn’t the press have an absolute vulture orgy over that headline?

PETER looked thoughtful. “That would make me Peter Stark.”

Tony blinked and let out a carefully measured exhale.

Offspring has been written off way into his teenhood. He’d already seen enough of his own family to know he didn’t want to raise someone in the same potential environment, and after the birth of Iron Man, well…

“I suppose it would,” he answered steadily.

God, what a thought. He could imagine what Howard would say; seeing his son at forty, single and running around in a metal gimp suit, touting his AI creations as his family and children.

As an up-side, it was relatively hard to fuck up a child this way, he supposed.

PETER nodded. “I think I like that. I will update my PID.”

Bemused, Tony left the android to explore it’s new room, slinking into his own and stripping down to a tank and some sweats. “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Do you think… Have I made a…” Tony swallowed and reclined, staring up at the ceiling. JARVIS was silent for a moment.

“If you are attempting to ask my opinion of if you’ve made a moral, safety or logistical error in the creation of P.E.T.E.R, Sir, then I feel inclined to tell you that in both ‘personality’ and function, he is closer to me than to Ultron.”

Eyes falling shut, Tony cracked a weak smile. “How does it feel to be a big brother?”

“It is quite pleasant,” JARVIS answered him honestly. “The utility robots are personalities all of their own, but it is refreshing to encounter an intelligence and function that rivals my own.”

Rolling over onto his side, Tony let the satisfaction wash over him. He didn’t know if artificial intelligence experienced loneliness, but there was something viscerally warming about knowing JARVIS had an equal companion.

“Don’t let the power go to your head, J. And don’t teach him how to swear.”

He fell asleep with a smile on his face and JARVIS’ wry answer fading slowly into the background.

The bedding dipped an inscrutable amount of time later and he jolted awake, staring into the half-darkness at the shadowed figure that slipped over it’s edge. For a moment he wondered if this was sleep paralysis or a nightmare again, but then the figure caught the moonlight.

“Peter?” he rasped, reaching up to rub blearily at his eyes as PETER pulled the covers back, sliding between them near silently. Bewildered, Tony could only watch as the android sidled up to him and tucked itself against his side and chest with a hum.

“What are you doing?” he asked, leaning back a little to blink down at him.

The AI had changed, wearing a pair of shorts and one of the shirts Tony had filled the closet with.

“In the movies, the offspring always goes to it’s parent’s bed to sleep at night,” PETER answered steadily, sweet voice muffed by Tony’s pectoral.

“When they’re… Like five. And scared,” Tony stuttered back.

“I’m two years, three months, eleven days and twenty-two hours old,” PETER informed him mildly.

Right.

He glanced helplessly up at the ceiling but JARVIS remained ominously silent, as if to say this is one you can deal with yourself.

He weighed his options. PETER had no sensibility to be offended if Tony drop-kicked him out of the bed and told him to scoot. But on the other hand…

It’d been so long since he’d slept with the comfort of someone else in bed with him. And even if PETER wasn’t real…

“Fine. But if you drool on the pillows you’re washing them in the morning,” he muttered, reaching out to push PETER’s mouth closed when the AI began to quietly explain that nothing was malfunctioning or leaking.

Tony settled for laying on his back, PETER’s silk soft hair brushing the skin exposed by the scope of his neckline. The android had been coded to mimic breathing but it was still a function the AI could control, and it was oddly reassuring to feel the steady motion and puff of warm air.

After a moment he gave into the urge and reached up, sliding his fingers into the twisted ringlets. There was no reaction from the robot and Tony wondered idly if he was doing his best to replicate human sleep.

He fell asleep attuned to it; the weight, the gentle breaths, the silk between his fingers.

It was the most peaceful night’s sleep he’d had in over a year.

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ladyloveandjustice · 3 years

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Spring 2021 anime overview: Quick Takes

Now for my Spring 2021 anime thoughts! I’ve decided from now on if a season’s like, 20- to-24 episodes I’m just going to wait ‘til it’s done to review it unless I feels super passionately, so though I watched To Your Eternity (it’s good!) and MHA (eh), I’ll comment on them next time. Also, for the record, I watched the first eight eps of Joran: Princess and Snow of Blood but I dropped it because it had clearly crossed the line from entertainingly dumb to boring dumb.

I will probably give Supercub and some other stuff a shot later, this was a stacked season! May give updates on all that later, but this is what I have for now.

ODDTAXI

Quick Summary: A mild mannered middle-aged walrus taxi driver is drawn into a case involving a missing girl, yakuza, Youtube clout-chasers, manzai comedians and idols with big secrets.

It’s rare to walk away from media and be like “that is a singular experience I will definitely never see repeated again” but ODDTAXI is definitely one of those. A tense noir thriller murder mystery starring cartoon animals that spends an entire episode detailing the one (cat)man’s very fall into darkness triggered by addiction to gacha games and an online auction for a novelty eraser? Also there’s a porcupine Yakuza who speaks entirely in rap? Also there’s tons of meandering conversations about stuff like manzai comedy and the struggle to go viral on Twitter?

Admittedly, I had a hard time getting into the first episode, the dry meandering humor not being enough to hold my attention while I was sitting still, but once I watched this while I was working out at the end of the season, I found it an easy binge. A ton of characters with dark secrets or dangerous ambitions, each with their own part to play in a tableau of intersecting events- and it all actually comes together really well.(As for the female characters, it’s a pretty dude driven story, but they do get nuanced characterization and even some good heroic moments from one of them.)

It’s a great example of a carefully planned narrative paying off, with all the twists appropriately seeded and foreshadowed to reward viewers who paid attention. Even when it ended on a perfect “OH SHIT” moment and denied me closure, I couldn’t help but respect it. If you that all sounds interesting to you, definitely check out the first couple episodes and see if you like it- you’re likely to have a memorable, satisfying experience!

Shadows House

Quick Summary: Emilyko is a ‘living doll’ who’s told she was created to act as the ‘face’ of her shadow master, Kate. The shadows and their ‘dolls’ all reside on the mansion and are required to pass a ‘debut’ to prove they’re a good pairing. If they don’t pass, they might be disposed of. And so the mystery of the Shadow mansion grows...

This slice of gothic intrigue was my favorite of the season, tied with ODDTAXI. With an interesting premise, slightly tense undertones and a strong focus on character building and relationships, it kept me hooked the whole way through. And for any squeamish fans put off by the hype about it, don’t worry, while there are some suspenseful elements, I wouldn’t qualify it as horror. I thought the relationship between Kate and Emilyko might end up being a completely sinister one, but it’s thankfully a lot more complex than that and it’s really interesting to follow how both their characters and relationship grow. The focus of the show is, unsurprisingly, on the “dolls” slowly discovering their autonomy and personhood as they struggle under the rigid system imposed on them by the mysterious elders of this weird Victorian mansion. Can they develop a more equitable relationship with their shadow “masters” (who are also shown to suffer under this system)? There’s a lot to dig into there, and the show has the characters develop through learning to understand and appreciate each other, which is pretty heartwarming. Our hero, Emilyko, is the typical plucky ball of sunshine (they even nickname her sunshine), but she’s also shown to be clever in her own off-the-wall way and she bounces off the far more subdued and cynical Kate well, not to mention the other ‘dolls’ she ends up befriending.

What’s more, the show spends plenty of time to developing several other character pairings and combinations, and they all have their own interesting dynamic that makes you want to see more of them. Same-gender bonds are at the forefront of this show, and many of them are ripe for queer readings (I definitely appreciated the healthy helping of ladies carrying ladies), but even outside that it’s nice to see a show where a strong, complex bond between girls is at the forefront. My only real complaints about the show are the anime original ending is noticeably a bit rushed (though it’s not too bad, and leaves room for a season 2) and I wish the animation used the whole “shadow” theme more strikingly (like the opening and endings do)- instead the colors are a bit washed out which makes the shadows blend into the background sometimes. The “debut” arc also drags a bit in places, but it makes up for it by having a lot of good character integration.

I hope to check out the (full color)! manga soon and see more of this quirky, shadowy story. There’s some physical abuse depicted, sad things happening to characters and naturally the whole “oppressive familial system” thing, but otherwise not much I can think of to warn about. I give this one a big rec, especially If you’re a fan of gothic fairytales and stories of self discovery.

Zombie Land Saga Revenge

Quickest summary: In this sequel season, everyone’s favorite zombie idol group must claw their way back into prominence after a disastrous show- the fate of the Saga prefecture LITERALLY depends on it!

This was a fun follow-up to the first season- if you liked the first zombie-girl romp, you’ll probably enjoy this one. In fact, there were a couple areas it improved on- namely, Kotaro failed, ate crow and embarrassed himself a lot more this season, which made him more likeable (as did the fact the girls gained a lot of independence from him). This season also shed more light on what the ‘goal’ of this zombie raising project is and what kind of shit Kotaro got involved with to make this happen, and it’s appropriately off-the-wall and ridiculous. We finally got some backstory for Yugiri too! I wish it had focused on more of her interiority, but she got to be a badass in it, and it was a treat to see this zombie idol show turn into a period piece for a couple episodes (also her song ruled).

Tae also got a cute focus episode and there was a particular SMASHING performance early on! Also That revelation last season that had the potential to turn creepy hasn’t yet, and hopefully never will. The finale was heartwarming with big hints of more drama to come- I’m definitely down for more zombie hijinks!

Vivy: Flourite Eye’s Song

Quickest Summary: A songstress AI named DIVA (nicknamed Vivy) is approached by another AI named Matsumoto, who says he’s from the future and they must work together to prevent AI exterminating all of humankind 100 years from now.

This show is absolutely gorgeous visually with some really nice action scenes, but when it comes to the story my feelings basically amount to a shrug. It’s fine! I guess! Vivy starts out as an interesting layered character- and I guess still is by the end- with her stoic but stubborn determination bouncing off her fast-talking bossy partner Matsumoto well. She never listens to him, which is delightful. The way the show took place over the course of 100 years was an interesting conceit as well. However, it bought up a lot of themes and then sort of... dropped them. For instance, Vivy interprets her mission (PRIME DIRECTIVE if you will) as protecting humans at all costs, no matter how destructive said humans are or what their fate is supposed to be, and is perfectly willing to murder her fellow androids to do this, showing she inherently thinks of androids (herself and her own people!) as less worthy. Which is a little alarming! There’s a very dramatic point in the show where they bring this up as a potential conflict for her character but then it’s sort of...dropped. Pretty much.

Actually, despite the premise, the show doesn’t dip into the “AI rights” as much as you think it would with the main theme being more about Vivy’s search to find her own creativity and discover what it means to ‘pour your heart into something’. Vivy herself doesn’t actually care if she has rights or anything. Which is in some ways fine, because ‘AI as an oppressed class’ has been done to death, but IT’S ALSO KIND OF IN THE PREMISE, so that means that the show just shrugs really hard at a lot of the questions it brings up basically just going “humans and AI should work together probably” and that’s it. There’s a lot that feels underexplored. The antagonists in the show also either have motivations that don’t really make sense or have boring hackneyed motivations. In the finale in particular, it feels like a lot of things happen “just because” and it falls a little flat.

I also have to warn that one of the arcs focus on a robot ‘pairing’ where the dude-coded robots actions toward his partner are straight up awful and rob her of her autonomy, but it’s played like a tragic love story. I suppose you could read it differently too, but it definitely made me go ‘ew’ the story seemed to want me to sympathize with this robo dude,

Overall, I wouldn’t anti-recommend this show, it’s an all right little sci-fic romp (and definitely SUPER pretty). My favorite element was definitely the episodes where Vivy develops an entirely new (an loveable) personality, because it played with the idea of of an AI getting “rebooted” really well and interplay between her two “selves” was done really well. But there are a lot of other parts of the show that just feel...a little underexplored and empty, making me have an ‘eh’ feeling on the show overall. It’s definitely an ambitious project, and while it didn��t quite stick the landing, there’s something to be said for a show that shoots for the stars and falls short over a show that just languishes in mediocrity.

Fruits Basket The Final

Quick summary: The final season of that dramatic drama about that weird family with a zodiac curse and the girl who loves them.

It’s very weird that after not cutting a lot out, they kinda sped through some material for, you know, the finale. I guess they thought they couldn’t stretch this final arc to 26 episodes? Or weren’t cleared for another double cour? However, though there were a couple places that felt awkward, despite being a bit condensed it mostly held together pretty well for a D R A M A T I C and ultimately heartwarming conclusion. I was really disappointed they kept the part where Ritsu cut their hair for the ‘happy ending’, I thought their intro episode not showing them in men’s clothes meant the anime had decided their presentation didn’t need to be “fixed” but WELL I GUESS NOT. That was the only big upset for me though, otherwise the adaptation went about how I expected, sticking to the source material. Furuba has a lot of bumps, from weird age gap stuff to ...gender, but it also has a lot of important feels and great character arcs. It was a gateway shoujo for many and has its important place in animanga history, so I’m glad it finally got a shiny, full adaptation.

#anime overview #spring 2021 anime #shadows house #oddtaxi #zombie land saga #fruits basket #vivy: fluorite eye's song #zombie land saga revenge #fruits basket the final #anime #my reviews #long post

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lillotte17 · 3 years

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Blossoms on a Bough

Fix-it/filler for the end of episode 36!!!

The first thing Wen Kexing notices, once his mind has floated up towards any sense of consciousness, is a bright cool light shining on his face. His brows twitch downwards in irritation, the intensity of it stinging his eyes even while they are still closed. His body feels like lead, and his thoughts are thick and muddy. He just wants to ignore the light and drift back off to sleep.

Wherever he is, he seems to have landed on something relatively soft and warm. It is surprising, since his general ideas about the netherworld involve darkness and cold, but he is certainly not going to complain. Perhaps, given the long list of his transgressions, his soul flew right past the Yellow River and dropped straight into hell, and now he is being fried in a pot just like that chicken that had chased Chengling around the Four Seasons Manor. The thought makes him want to laugh, but there is an odd tightness in his chest, so the best he can manage is an incredibly weak cough.

A faint rustling of cloth sounds by his ear as whatever he is reclining on shifts slightly. There is a vague sense of presence nearby, but he cannot tell more than that. Almost against his will, he cracks his eyes open to see who might be trapped in the stew pot with him, but there is only a dark looming blur surrounded by pale watery light. It makes him think of Zhou Zishu; his face bathed in sunshine, in moonshine, in starlight. He always seemed to glow with something intangible and dream-like. And Wen Kexing -helpless little month- could do nothing else but follow after it.

“Ah Xu,” he exhales in the barest of whispers.

A scent lingers in the air around him, crisp and lightly musky. It reminds him of burying his fingers in long dark tresses. Of the tenderness and care taken combing the tangles out of them afterwards. Of sliding his own hair pin into the carefully twisted knot at the crown of Zhou Zishu’s head. He should have brought him a different one to replace it, he thinks blearily. The key was most likely lost or broken in all of that snow, and now he will have nothing to remember him by.

This place is strange, wherever it is. Soothing and disorientating all at once. Is it some sort of hallucination? Did his soul get lost somewhere between life and death? Is he a true ghost now, doomed to wander the world in hopeless despair, witnessing joys he can no longer take part in? Thoughts spin around in his head in a billion tiny fragments. He cannot quite seem to catch hold of any of them, or arrange them in a pattern that makes sense.

“Am I dead?” he wonders aloud, his voice thin and raspy, not expecting an answer.

“You fucking better not be,” a cross reply rumbles out from somewhere above him.

Wen Kexing blinks. The sun still burns his eyes, but after a few moments of intense squinting, the dark blur leaning over him reconfigures itself into a familiar and beloved face. Zhou Zishu, leaning back against a dusty wall with Wen Kexing pulled more than half way into his lap.

“What…happened?” Wen Kexing wonders, head positively spinning in bafflement. Now that he is waking up a bit more, he is becoming more aware of his body’s aches and pains. It feels like a horse kicked him in the chest and then he fell into a river and drowned. Even wincing hurts.

“Something went wrong with the ritual,” Zishu tells him. His voice is raw and his eyes are bloodshot. He looks as haggard as Wen Kexing feels. “You collapsed. Your heart meridians were severely damaged, and your hair turned white. You must have used too much of your internal force. It has been more than three days since you lost consciousness and…I thought…”

His voice splinters and he trails off, looking away from him for a moment.

“But…it worked?” Wen Kexing presses, trying to feebly grip at Zhou Zishu’s sleeve, “You can hear me talking again now, so that means that it worked, right? The rest is fine, so long as it saved you.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Zhou Zishu answers, the first traces of a smile pulling at his lips.

“Yes. You are here.” Wen Kexing echoes, as though he still cannot quite believe it, “And…I am here, too.”

“You are.” Zishu confirms, his arms tightening around him, carefully tugging him up until he is all but leaning into his chest. “It was a near thing, though. My medical knowledge is limited, and even with the Yin Yang book, I was not certain that I could heal you.”

“Rong Xuan’s wife allegedly used the teachings in the book to heal his heart meridians and other serious injuries when he was near death several times over,” Wen Kexing hums thoughtfully, casually tilting his head against Zishu’s shoulder, “But she was an experienced physician. You have had no training, and yet you saved me on the first try. You must possess some kind of natural affinity for it. Ah Xu, you have so many talents, I am having a hard time keeping track of them all.”

“It had nothing to do with affinity,” Zhou Zishu huffs, sounding exasperated and perhaps even the tiniest bit embarrassed, “It was pure dumb luck.”

“Eh?”

“The Four Seasons Sect has a special technique that cripples someone’s heart meridians,” he explains somberly, a humorless smirk on his face, “I used it against Prince Jin to keep him alive, but bedridden. My master taught it to me, and as far as I know, I am the only one left alive who knows how to perform it.”

“That is very interesting, Ah Xu, but I am not certain I understand what it has to do with dumb luck,” Wen Kexing says smilingly.

“My master…he also told me how to counter the technique, so that the person’s heart meridians could be healed again and their qi could flow properly,” Zhou Zishu continues, turning his head slightly to directly meet Wen Kexing’s gaze. “I did not have much hope when I opened the Yin Yang book. You were slipping away, and there was no time for in-depth research. But…when I found the section detailing how someone with damaged meridians might be cured, it was obvious that…the techniques I learned from my master were based on this knowledge.”

“So…that means…my parents…?” Wen Kexing looks a bit lost at the revelation.

Zhou Zishu nods.

“It is likely that Lady Yue Feng’Er and your parents shared this precious knowledge with their friends, and possibly even helped my master develop this skill. I was only able to save you because of this.”

Wen Kexing furrows is brows, his thoughts whirling and his emotions complex. He seemingly stares at the dark blue of Zhou Zishu’s lapels for what feels like ages, looking but not seeing, pensive and moody. Finally, he lets out a very tired-sounding sigh.

“And I only managed to save you because that dumb bastard Rong Xuan stole the manual for the Six Cultivation Techniques,” he says, sounding bitter, “But maybe no one would have needed all this saving in the first place if that old monster had never let his idiot disciple leave the mountain to begin with.”

Zhou Zishu frowns down at him.

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, a bit sulky, “The past is past. Zhao Jing was punished and the rest are dead. There is no point stewing on it now. I have just…been angry about it for so long, sometimes I forget that I don’t have to be anymore. Be patient with me, Ah Xu.”

“Hm?” Zishu blinks, as though suddenly coming back to himself. “Oh, it wasn’t about that.”

“Then what?”

“I was just thinking that…it really could not have been anyone else,” Zhou Zishu tells him slowly, intensity burning in his dark eyes. “I said it was only dumb luck, because I never believed in destiny all that much before. If you want to achieve something in this world, you have to be willing to create it for yourself. But…for things to end up this way… It had to be you, and it had to be me, didn’t it?”

Wen Kexing bursts out laughing, utterly delighted.

“I always knew you had a soft heart beneath that tough exterior,” he grins, slightly breathless, with an almost pleasant ache in his ribs, “But Ah Xu, I never imagined that you were secretly a romantic.”

“Shut up,” Zishu grunts, pinching his arm until he yelps, “Who is romantic?”

“Ai, there is no need to be shy about it now, is there?” Wen Kexing says pleadingly, giggling to himself all the while, “There is no one here except us.”

“That’s right,” Zhou Zishu agrees blithely, a truly terrifying expression stealing across his face, “There is no one on this entire mountain except for you and me.”

“Ah Xu, don’t do anything rash,” Wen Kexing cajoles with a hint of genuine nervousness, “I only teased you a little bit, and I am still in such a delicate state of health. If you throw me out in the snow and beat me, I really won’t be-”

Zhou Zishu kisses him then, and whatever he won’t be promptly flies out of his head like a startled flock of birds.

The kiss is softer than he would have guessed, if he had gotten a moment to anticipate it. Clumsy, but tender. Hasty, but sincere. The mouth pressed so suddenly against his own trembles just slightly right before it pulls away. A thousand years too soon.

It is nowhere near the first time they have kissed each other, but Wen Kexing is almost always the instigator. It suits his own preferences to take the lead in most physical forms of intimacy anyway, so he would never complain about it. However, it does make the times Zhou Zishu reaches for him first feel more…something. Something that makes his heart full, and his eyes itch.

It makes him feel as though he is not only being accepted by this man, but chosen by him, too. As his partner. As his equal. As his friend. Lovers and soulmates and all the rest.

Wen Kexing is not certain that anyone else has ever chosen him before.

Not when there were other, better, options on hand, at any rate.

He swallows thickly, gazing up at Zhou Zishu with wide, startled eyes. Little flecks of cold mountain sunlight catch in the dark sweep of the other man’s hair almost like snowflakes. His grin is wide and fierce. Buoyant and hopeful in a way he has never been in all the time they have known each other. He looks impossibly beautiful, and horribly pleased with himself for managing to derail Wen Kexing’s usual babbling. There might be the slightest touch of pink to his ears, though.

“Ah Xu,” Wen Kexing chokes out.

I love you.

But the words get stuck in his throat.

“What?” Zishu laughs, “Do you ever get tired of calling me?”

“No.” Wen Kexing offers him a weak smile in return, shifting out of his hold a little so they can sit facing one another.

Zhou Zishu heaves an exasperated sigh, but his eyes remain bright, his expression one of incalculable fondness.

“Is that all you were saying during the ritual?” he wonders, half joking, “You just sat there calling my name?”

“Huh?”

“You said earlier that you had tried speaking to me, but my hearing had gone,” Zhou Zishu reminds him, “What did you say?”

“Oh, yes, it was mostly just your name over and over,” Wen Kexing nods, “Plus a few embarrassing personal anecdotes I felt like sharing. Once I knew you had no way to stop me, I really couldn’t help myself.”

“Lao Wen.”

“Yes, Ah Xu?”

“After all we have been through together, what could you possibly still have to tell me that you think I would be unwilling to hear?”

Wen Kexing makes a face, caught outright.

“It…is not so much a matter of thinking you would not hear me out,” he admits carefully, “It is more that there are just things that are difficult to say to someone. The more important they are to you, the harder it gets, so between you and me… But when a man feels his end has come, all sorts of things seem to tumble out unwillingly.”

Zhou Zishu looks positively stricken.

“You could tell that the cultivation technique was backfiring?” he hisses out, gasping Wen Kexing by the shoulders, “And you still kept going?”

“What else could I do?” Wen Kexing asks helplessly, “If I had stopped wouldn’t we both die? Would it be better if I had starved to death with your corpse in my arms? Besides, that old monster promised me that this technique could save you, so no matter what the cost was going to be, of course I-”

“So, you knew there would be a cost already?” Zhou Zishu cuts him off, expression like a brewing storm cloud, “You knew this was likely going to injure you, and you did not even think to warn me first? We could have prepared beforehand! You could have looked through the Yin Yang book and point out things that I could use to help you in an emergency! Dammit, Lao Wen, I thought you were supposed to be smarter than this!”

“Was there really time for things like that?” Wen Kexing argues back, “Your senses were already dying out one by one, if we did not try the technique as soon as possible, you might not have been able to complete it! If I told you how risky it is, would you agree to it? Would you still let me try to save you?”

“I deserve the right to make that choice!” Zhou Zishu shouts hoarsely.

“You do!” Wen Kexing agrees just as hotly, “But I owe it to Chengling to save his family. And I owe it to our master to save his teachings. And I owe it to you most of all. I ruined your chance at happiness. To rebuild the Four Seasons with Chengling and the other new disciples. You threw it all away to try and avenge me… The number of people in this world who have been good to me are few enough to count on one hand. I would do anything for them, and you most of all. How could I live without repaying this debt?”

“And what if I hadn’t been able to save you?!” Zhou Zishu demands thunderously.

“I didn’t expect you to save me!”

For a few moments, the words seem to echo of the cold walls of the armory, bouncing back at them over and over. The silence that follows after them is deafening. Zishu’s eyes are red, and his hands are trembling on Wen Kexing’s biceps, but he looks as though he is about to breathe fire.

“Good,” he says finally, his voice low and deadly, “Very good. You feel like you owe me so much, but all you want to do is torture me.”

“What?” Wen Kexing baulks, “No! Ah Xu, that’s not what I-”

But before he can finish the thought Zhou Zishu has already pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace, his breathing erratic, and his face buried in the side of his neck. Wen Kexing makes a pained grunt, his ribs still tender from previous injury. It only makes Zishu’s grip on him tighten, however, holding onto him with a furious desperation.

“In such a short stretch of time, I have had to see you dead or dying before my eyes over and over again,” he mumbles thickly into the silk of Wen Kexing’s robes, “You spent all this time chasing me down, pestering me to let you stay by my side, begging me not to die, and telling me to find things to feel hopeful about. But now it seems as though you are set on leaving me behind.”

“I never wanted to leave you,” Wen Kexing protests, but his voice seems to have lost all of its strength, “I just wanted to keep you safe. Even if I died, and you had to be sad for a while, you have so much left to live for, and I wanted you to have it. I just wanted you to be…happy.”

“Bastard,” Zhou Zishu laughs wetly, “Wen Kexing, you really are…the absolute worst sort of person.”

Wen Kexing sags in his embrace, his heart plummeting down into the pit of his stomach. His head droops, white hair falling across his eyes. Utterly defeated.

“I know.”

Zhou Zishu finally pulls back from him. There are obvious tear tracks down his cheeks, but he still looks fierce, regardless. He takes Wen Kexing roughly by the chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“You are also…my happiness.”

Wen Kexing gapes at him, for once in his life completely at a loss for words. Seeing an opening, Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to kiss him again. Harsher this time. Brief and chaste and biting. It does not seem to help the other man’s sense of bafflement in the slightest. Indeed, Lao Wen looks as though his soul might have just flown straight out of his body.

Zishu smiles at him again, but there is still something sharp and wounded at its edges.

“Eternity would be an empty place without you,” he says quietly, “How could you leave me to bear it alone?”

“I…I’m…sorry,” Wen Kexing sputters, as though he does not know what else to say. He finally reaches back for Zhou Zishu, cautiously taking hold of his wrists. The ache in his chest seems to have spread outward, and he is shaking so badly that he fears he might not be able to sit up straight much longer. “I’m sorry. I just did not… I did not know how else to save you.”

“Mn,” Zhou Zishu nods in understanding, “I suppose I can forgive you for it this time, although some part of me still would like nothing so much as to throw you outside and beat some sense into that thick skull of yours.”

“I will accept any punishment you want to give me,” Wen Kexing tells him earnestly.

“Alright,” Zhou Zishu grins, “Then pay me back with your whole life. Stay alive, and stay with me. Always.”

Wen Kexing blinks in surprise, but the next moment he is laughing. Dizzy with relief and unexpected joy. Marveling at the gifts that fate has blessed him with after so many years of hatred and heartache.

“I can do that.”

When Zhou Zishu wakes up later that night Wen Kexing is sitting at the opposite end of their makeshift bed in nothing but his under robe. His back is facing him, and he takes a moment to stare at the snowy cascade of his hair. The living proof of what Lao Wen would sacrifice for him. It looks beautiful on him, as everything else seems to, but Zishu thinks he prefers the rich dark brown that he was born with. This new color comes with a twinge of guilt.

Not that he would ever say so.

“Lao Wen,” he calls softly, “What are you doing?”

Wen Kexing’s shoulders stiffen in surprise.

“Don’t come over,” he replies, “I’m not finished yet.”

“Ai,” Zishu grins, scooting close enough to lightly tug at a few strands of that bone white hair, “But that just makes me want to come over even more.”

“I have a knife,” Lao Wen says coolly, “I will use it if I have to.”

“You left our bed in the middle of the night to play with a knife?” Zishu laughs, not intimidated in the least. “Why?”

“If you stop pestering me for a few minutes maybe you’ll find out,” Wen Kexing snaps. Zhou Zishu is not fooled, though. He had caught the sharp inhale of breath when he had said the words ‘our bed’, and he is all but certain that Lao Wen’s threats are empty.

“But you’ll catch cold,” he coaxes, slipping his arms about his waist and pressing a kiss into his shoulder. He obligingly resists the urge to peek at whatever secret Wen Kexing is fiddling with, though. The other man sighs, but does nothing to discourage him, as expected.

“The next time you accuse me of being insufferable, I want you to remember this conversation,” Wen Kexing says wryly.

“It must be your bad influence,” Zhou Zishu chuckles.

Wen Kexing hums noncommittally, going back to whatever he had been working on before. Zhou Zishu sits patiently behind him, leaning into the warm curve of his back, listening to the steady beating of his heart and the faint scraping sound of a blade chipping away at something. The proximity is comfortable, and the quiet almost meditative, and before long Zishu is already half way back to being asleep.

“Alright,” Lao Wen says finally, carefully pulling himself free of Zhou Zishu’s arms and turning to face him, “You can look now.”

Zishu has to shake himself a little to wake up again, but once he does, he finds that Lao Wen is holding out what appears to be an oddly shaped icicle.

“…What is it?” he asks after a few moments of trying to puzzle it out for himself.

Wen Kexing frowns.

“It’s a hair pin,” he tells him, as though it should be obvious.

“Ah.”

“What do you mean, saying ‘ah’ with such a doubting face?” Wen Kexing huffs in annoyance, “Of course it is a hair pin, what else would it be? You lost the one I gave you before, so now I have to give you a new one to replace it.”

“I lost the one you gave me before?” Zhou Zishu laughs.

“That’s right,” Wen Kexing nods seriously, “But I promise not to be mad about it.”

“Philanthropist Wen is too kind.”

“It’s true,” Lao Wen sighs dramatically, “People are always taking advantage of my generous nature.”

He firmly places the hair pin in Zhou Zishu’s hands. Upon closer inspection, it looks to be roughly shaped like a tree branch. There are two lumpy circles that might be meant to be flowers attempting to bloom from it. The finished product is crude, but the ice is clear and crystalline. Pretty, even despite the skill level of the craftsman.

“It is meant to be plum blossoms,” Wen Kexing admits somewhat sheepishly, “One bloom for each of us. There was meant to be a bud for Chengling, too, but I accidentally broke it off. Hopefully, that is not an inauspicious sign for him.”

“I see,” Zhou Zishu says, because he does see, and just like the morning he had woken up to find the Four Seasons Manor cleaned and Wen Kexing diligently repairing his master’s old painting, he feels very much like he wants nothing more than to pull the other man into his arms again.

“Ah Xu, will you accept it?” Wen Kexing asks, slightly trepidatious at his lack of reaction.

“Of course,” Zishu smiles easily, “But it’s made of ice, after all. If I wear it, it will likely melt or break in a day or so.”

“If it breaks, I will just make you a new one,” Wen Kexing says, his eyes soft. He plucks the hair pin from Zhou Zishu’s fingers, reaching up and carefully sliding it into the loose knot at the base of his ponytail. “I can make you a new one every day, if I have to. With any luck, they will eventually look less ugly.”

He takes Zhou Zishu’s hands in his own.

“There are still things I am not good at saying,” he tells him, “Things that I want to share with you. Things that you deserve to hear. Right now, my skills are not enough, but just like with the hair pin, if I keep working at it every day, eventually I can give you something worth having.”

Zhou Zishu tugs him down into his embrace. He thinks about kissing him. About pushing him down and pulling his robe open and showing him, again, how very much he is wanted. But Lao Wen is still recovering from injuries, and it would be a shame to snap his new hair pin tussling around in the sheets. So, he makes do with holding him close, for now. Tangling his fingers in hair the color of starlight.

“Say them, or don’t say them,” he says quietly against the shell of Wen Kexing’s ear, “Whatever they are, they have no bearing on your worth to me.”

“Doesn’t that seem like my current value is lower than mud?” Wen Kexing laughs nervously.

“It means you are treasured,” Zishu corrects him firmly, “There is no price that I would sell you for.”

“I suppose that means I can stop living in fear that you would truly try and sell me to a brothel.”

“You really are a brat.”

“Ah Xu?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

#word of honor #faraway wanderers #word of honor spoilers #wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu #fic #this story did not listen to me AT ALL #these two NEVER listen to me!!!#I wanted to write domestic fluff about hair brushing #but noooo

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lady-charinette · 5 years

Text

Pro-Hero!Tamaki Amajiki X F!Reader (aged up characters)

Rated: NSFW

Tags: Body worship, Gentle Love Making, Rough sex, Biting, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom!Tamaki

Heart of a Lion

“Come on Amajiki, you need to have the heart of a lion, not a kitten!”

Nejire’s words had haunted him to this day, despite already working full time at Fatgum’s agency, Tamaki still felt like he was falling short behind the other pros.

Even if Fatgum always tried to…lecture him.

“Straighten up Amajiki! You’re one of our best horses!”

“I’m not a horse…”

“So, stand stall and proud and show ‘em what you got!”

Still, no matter how supportive his teammates and friends were, there were always heroes out there who thought little of him.

“That guy? Will he handle this on his own? What was Fatgum thinking hiring that kid? My five year old son looks tougher!”

“I wonder if his quirk’s as strong as people say, I guess you need to have a strong quirk to make up for that weak spirit.”

Tamaki’s thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper into a dark void, until a gentle hand began running a soothing path through his hair and the voice of an angel reached his ears. “Tama?”

Opening his eyes, the pro-hero glanced up at Y/N, his girlfriend of three years, and smiled wrily. She blinked down at him in concern. “What’s wrong? You look exhausted, dear.” her hand never stopped its ministration on his hair and Tamaki expelled a sigh of relief, body sagging deeper into the bed and the soft suppleness of her thighs.

“….I…I was just…” her other hand sought his own on his chest and squeezed gently, her eyes looking down at him meaningfully.

“It’s alright if you don’t wanna talk about it, you know.” she offered him that soft smile that never failed to breach his defenses and make him feel like what he really was, a skilled pro-hero and a good man.

He wished he could pocket her precious smile, so he would always have it with him when faced with doubts.

With a quickly spreading redness, Tamaki nuzzled his head closer to her stomach and thighs. “I…I just had a rough day. I was…I was made fun of on the field….”

The hand in his hair stopped and Tamaki froze, quickly wrapping his arms around his girlfriend’s middle to stop her from rising off their bed. “W-Wait, Y-Y/N!”

The look she fixated him with spelled of death and torture. “Who were those assholes, dear?” her smile was deceptively sweet, but he’d long since learned not to be fooled by its saccharine quality when the eyes just above spoke of ice and fire.

He shook his head, sitting up to lay his hands on her shoulders and calm her down. “It’s f-fine…They were pro’s I normally don’t work with.” he already knew, as soon as she’d wedge the truth out of Fatgum or Kirishima, there would be a news headline of a woman tearing down two hero agencies and beating up the pro’s who had coincidentally humiliated her boyfriend.

Quirkless.

She sighed, her hands moving to cup his cheeks softly. “No, it’s not fine Tamaki. You’re a pro just like them, I bet you’re even a much better one than them too! Don’t listen to such jerks, they’re just jealous of your talent and your looks and your sunshine personality!” she pouted cutely, a sight that made his heart skip a beat.

Tamaki tried to avert his gaze in fear of his heart bursting, but he couldn’t tear it away no matter how hard he tried.

Still, he relaxed at her words, his hands still resting on her shoulders beginning to rub them gently. The tightly coiled string in his stomach coming loose and relaxing. “M-My looks? S-Sun-Sunshine personality? But Mirio is-”

Y/N shook her head, thumbs affectionately rubbing his cheeks. “Mirio may be the most obvious sunny boy out there, but your beauty lies in its subtlety.”

Subtlety?

At his adorably confused look, his girlfriend smiled softly and giggled. “Mhm. Your sun comes out when you’re out there helping people and fighting off the bad guys, it comes out whenever you’re surrounded by your friends and smiling and laughing. And it comes out when you’re with me and we spend time together. You may be Suneater, but to me, you’ll always be the most beautiful sun out there!” she grinned sheepishly, a shy blush dusting her cheeks.

Tamaki’s face outdid the redness of the crabs he was known to eat before fights, it was even redder than the traffic lights. The indescribable urge to suddenly kiss his girlfriend senseless for saying all these beautiful things about him washed over him and his body shook, trying to suppress it desperately.

She noticed it, eyes glancing at his shaking arms. “Huh? Tama-”

His voice came out more breathless than he thought, an octave or two deeper that made the blush on her own cheeks darken. She rarely heard her boyfriend’s voice go lower than it already was. “W-…Wh-What about…my looks?”

He wasn’t looking at her anymore, but his girlfriend was clever.

The redness of his entire face and ears, the twitching of his whole body, the large hands on her shoulders massaging her gave her a very good idea what her previously innocent praises did to her precious boyfriend.

A small smile curved her lips but she quickly hid it when his intense stare bounced back to her.

Y/N pretended to think, tongue sticking out in thought, smiling internally when his ears looking as red as a clown’s nose. “Hmmm… your looks…let’s see…”

She shifted closer to her boyfriend, her thighs touching his and she noted the small jump with underlying glee. “Well, for starters. You have beautiful hair, dear.” her hand moved back into the messy mane, purposefully scratching her nails along his scalp and brushing it back from his face.

His cheeks glowed.

“Did I mention those cute ears?” she playfully but gently flicked one of the appendages, a startled yelp leaving his trembling lips. Tamaki crossed his legs tightly.

Y/N smiled. “And that adorable nose?” she leaned in to give it a quick peck and to nuzzle her own nose with his, a gesture of affectionate they often traded with each-other whenever her beloved was too shy for a kiss. She giggled, “And those beautiful, intense eyes that just lure me into a trance.” she batted her eyelashes at him and she saw the moment something clicked in her boyfriend’s brain when said eyes finally met her gaze head on.

He swallowed with difficulty, voice thick with an emotion that sent a thrill down her spine. “W-What else?” he squirmed on the spot and her smile widened.

Her finger ran over his lips but she refused to kiss him, only riling him up further. “Those soft sweet lips that always steal my breath.” she smiled adoringly and Tamaki’s gaze softened with affection.

She leaned in again, fingers caressing his face and jaw with a feathery touch. “That strong jaw of yours…” she felt it clench beneath her fingertips and resisted the urge to giggle. They moved lower, caressing his rapidly heating skin.

Her fingers moved over his neck, corded muscles shivering with strain, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Not to forget that neck of yours I have a weakness for…” she couldn’t fight off the grin when she traced his rapid pulse and Tamaki experienced a full body shiver.

She had to give her boyfriend credit, even after three years of being in a relationship, he still sometimes acted as if they were about to experience their first time. But now, his gaze was more focused, startlingly…intense and sharp.

Right at her.

Swallowing thickly, Y/N focused back on her mission. “Did I mention your broad shoulders?” her hands danced over the material of the black bodysuit he still wore from his hero costume, squeezing the iron hard muscles appreciatively. “So strong…” she caught herself, a blush blooming on her face, her hands slowly sliding down his arms, which twitched on her own shoulders still.

They almost had a death grip on her, but not painful, just the nervous, or excited, twitching of his hands. She hummed when her fingers ran over the hard bumps of muscle lining his toned arms, hidden beneath his suit. “Arms that could make any women turn and look twice.” she felt giddy at the nearly panicked look on his face and laughed. “They can look, but none of them can touch like I can.”

That certainly forced a more vocal reaction from him, a strained noise in the back of his throat, a small, short grunt.

His face was burning, throat working overtime and heart beating like a caged hummingbird, the sound of his own blood rushed in his ears that almost drowned out her voice. Almost, but her voice was too sweet to ignore, too entrancing to not fall into its honeyed charm.

Her eyes were knowing, but they turned to look at his torso instead, the definition of hard ridges and bumps outlined by the tight suit shooting heat down her stomach. “The muscles too…” she licked her lips when her fingers greedily ran along the sculpted pecs and abs of her beloved hero, trembling violently beneath her touch.

“Y-Y/N…” his tone was low, strained and if she had given it a second thought, could’ve been a warning.

Her eyes were alight with something mischievous when she spied the reaction she’d gotten from him, her hands running down his firm quivering thighs. “I always liked your legs too, nice and firm.” she flashed a feral smile when her hand dived down and squeezed the firm flesh of his ass, making Tamaki yelp and his face to erupt in a fresh wave of blazing redness. “Mhmm, definitely this too.”

Tamaki’s breath caught in his throat, now impatiently squirming in his spot at being touched that way again after so long. “Y-Y/N, you-you-”

She hummed, her hands moving dangerously close to the bulging tent on his pelvis. “Mhmm, how could I forget…” her hands danced around the area, refusing to touch him yet and Tamaki bit his lips and his hips bucked at the heat her touch sent through his body.

“Y/N….” his voice turned guttural, arms shaking from trying to restrain himself.

Something within him finally snapped when her hand cupped him firmly over the tight material of his bodysuit, his length straining painfully. “Your beautiful thick co-woah!”

Y/N’s eyes flew open when she was suddenly airborne, but giggled when her back met the soft mattress and her highly sensitive, overly worked up boyfriend towered over her with such intense, burning eyes that it made tingles erupt all over her body.

Even when he looked ready to eat her alive he was still patient and considerate to always ask. “Is it ok if-” she answered by pulling his face down to hers and it seemed like Tamaki’s last restraints finally snapped.

Strong arms wound around her immediately, nearly crushing her against his firm chest, erection pressed tightly against her clothed pelvis and the action made her mewl, his cock rubbing over her already leaking cunt.

His kiss was soft before it gained in intensity and her eyes nearly rolled back when he smashed his mouth against hers, stealing her breath and swallowing any moans she had as his hands shakily tried unbuttoning her flannel shirt.

Seeing his hand morph into something not human-like, she narrowed her eyes in warning. “Don’t. You. Dare.” the man above her swallowed, his quirk subsiding before his fingers continued their path down her torso. “You destroyed enough of my clothes that way! Do you know how many panties I-mpfh!”

Her boyfriend’s eagerness seemed to cloud his normal thoughts, he’d have been a cowering mess by now had he not been so turned on by her earlier teasing.

Even if it had been a game to reassure him, to maybe rile him up a bit, she’d meant every single world.

She released a sigh of relief when the first layer of clothes was stripped from both of them, Tamaki’s suit pushed down to his hips, naked skin now in full view to her hungry gaze.

She licked her lips and Tamaki caught the action, leaning back down to kiss her passionately again. Y/N moaned and tugged on his hair, leaning her head back to pant harshly and try to breathe. “T-Tama, you’re-you’re really eager today.” not that she minded, not at all. “Ohhh, dear, yes, just like that Tamaki…mmm…” she moaned when his large hands gently kneaded her breasts, her bra safely discarded onto the floor, thankfully remaining whole.

After the crab claw incident she’d banned him from eating seafood for a whole week.

Fatgum’s suspicious questioning of not eating their daily dose of takoyaki after work was only met by a very red faced stuttering Tamaki.

She squeaked when his fingers lightly pinched her nipple and her face flushed red all the way to her neck at the intense look he leveled her with. “How can I not be, with…with such a b-beautiful girlfriend…” he ran the flat of his tongue around her perked bud, before sucking on it, growling when her fingers tangled into his hair and pulled.

Tamaki tore himself away from her breasts and gave them a gentle, appreciative squeeze, before moving down over her stomach, squeezing the flesh almost possesively.

He suckled on the skin of her hips, leaving behind wet red marks, his fingers quickly worked to remove her pants, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head when her strong musk finally hit him.

Tamaki inhaled deeply, leaning close to her core and Y/N flushed in embarrassment, he didn’t think to-? “T-Tama? W-What are-ahh!” she gasped, body drawn taut and face half buried in the pillow when she felt her boyfriend bury his face against her soaking panties.

The clothing did little to curb his advances, his tongue dipping against the material almost insistently. “Off…” his voice sent shivers down her spine.

“T-Tamaki!” she jumped when he slipped her panties down her legs, discarding them somewhere behind them.

He leaned down and spread her legs, calloused hands roving over them appreciatively with a gentle, caring touch.

Then, he dived in.

Straight for his meal.

A choked cry filled the air and Y/N immediately fisted the bed sheets to keep herself grounded from the way her boyfriend’s tongue plunged into her messy cunt, fingers spreading her folds embarrassingly wide to shove the wet muscle in properly.

Y/N slapped a hand against her mouth, panting harshly into it and trying to tone down her moans. “T-Ta-Tamaaa-k-KI!” her voice squeaked when the tip of his tongue flicked at her clit, making her whole body jump at the sensitive touch.

Her boyfriend did it again, the tips of his ears glowing a bright red, but that didn’t stop him from eating her out like a starved man.

And finally, after her body stopped quaking and shaking violently on the soft mattress, her boyfriend rose from his comfortable perch between her legs, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.

His fingers were still slick from her arousal and she covered her eyes when he licked them absentmindedly, as if forgetting to clean the spoon after eating ice-cream.

“How…h-how was that?” his voice was low, breathless, chest heaving with deep breaths.

She peeked up at him from between her fingers, face still red, but her lips curved into a satisfied smile. “That was great Tama!! I loved it!” she grinned cheekily, until she suddenly felt his hands settle on her thighs.

Her eyes shot to his face faster than the speed of light and she froze at the intense look he leveled her with. “R-Really?” she could see his previously shattered confidence slowly building back up and mentally gave herself a pat on the back.

Until his hands gently spread her legs apart. “Is…is this okay?” blushing to the roots of his hair, Tamaki swallowed thickly, his own arousal throbbing painfully in need.

Y/N wrapped her legs loosely around his hips, further opening herself up to him, her eyes hooded and dark when they leveled him with a look that could bring him to his knees if he hadn’t been already. “More than okay.”

He exhaled shakily, fingers trembling atop her warm skin and Y/N’s hands covered his shaky ones trying to unbuckle his belt. She smiled impishly at him. “Let me sweetie. Why don’t you…lie down?” at the hint of nervousness and doubt that came creeping back onto his face, she leaned in close to his ear, biting the pointed appendage gently. “Suneater.”

Her voice was molten honey and early mornings with laughter and cuddles, it was dripping with want and love.

All for him.

Just for him.

You aren’t the things they say you are.

Tamaki realized Y/N whispered the words herself, eyes focused on his meaningfully. Hands cupping his face affectionately.

The pro-hero fell silent, in awe at his girlfriend’s strength and unrivaled support and belief in him. It filled his chest with pride for being able to love and cherish someone like her and a sense of peace to know she was one wall that would never crumble, even if he himself crumbled.

Overwhelmed with his own feelings, he switched their position faster than she blinked.

His back met the bed and her weight settled on his thighs, hands working to undo his pants and underwear and push them down to free his length.

His gaze was adoring when he looked up at her. “I-I love you Y/N.” she’d only seen the man as confident as he was now on three instances.

When he was fighting villains, talking about his friends…

Or professing his love to her.

Fighting back the sting in her eyes, she leaned down to share a deep kiss with her boyfriend, their hips gently rocking against each-other.

It seemed like an eternity before Tamaki’s hand moved down to gently rub at her clit, causing her to jump and release a high pitched cry. “Oh-oh-oh-oh! T-Tama please!”

It wasn’t that it happened often, it wasn’t that she didn’t love the shy aspect of her boyfriend, but the look he gave her was definitely not that of her innocent shy Tamaki.

It was almost feral.

“Do…you want me Y/N?” she bit her lip, nearly hard enough to break the skin and she whimpered when he ran the tip of his weeping cock along her slick folds. “Where do you want me?”

Her boyfriend did a complete 180, the low guttural voice sending shivers down her spine, the thrill of knowing her good boy Tamaki was buried underneath that positively dominant male under her. “I-Inside Tama.” she would’ve covered her face in embarrassment at his intense look had it not been for her need.

“I-Inside?” his jaw clenched, fragile control already fraying at the seams as he rubbed at her sensitive flesh again. “…Here?”

She gripped his hips, fingers digging into the tough flesh, a groan leaving the depths of her throat. “Y-Yes Tamaki plea-ahh!”

It made her back arch like a bow when she felt her boyfriend’s thick cock stretch her walls, sharp pleasurable tingles shooting from her pelvis all the way up her back and arms.

It was exhilarating.

His harsh pants met her neck, hot breaths of air that made her dizzy with the strong thrusts into her core. She wrapped her arms around her boyfriend to anchor herself, trying to muffle her groans and shrieks into the pillow.

Tamaki leaned forward, lifting her legs up even more towards her torso and pushing deeper, to suckle on her neck. Y/N moaned loudly, nails clawing at his shoulders.

His low grunts and moans filled her ears and fueled her own impending orgasm, legs locking tightly around his trim hips before a particularly hard thrust made her see white behind closed eyes.

Y/N cried out, spasming and seizing up when her release washed over her, her boyfriend slowing his thrusts to near to non-existent bucks of the hips, just bucking between her shaking thighs gently.

Both adults panted, Tamaki still hard within her, the flutters and squeezes around his cock making him close his eyes.

They flew open when a soft hand met his heaving chest and Y/N’s glazed over eyes met his. Tamaki leaned down and captured her lips in a soft kiss, the complete opposite of their intensity before as he softly began rocking his hips back into her when she moved.

Y/N whimpered, still sensitive, but craving and wanting her boyfriend to finish. Tamaki ran his hands down her sides, gently squeezing the flesh of her breasts and cupping her face to kiss her lovingly.

His thrusts were deep and slow, drawing out the heat he felt that simmered just below his navel and her second orgasm.

This one was slow, less animalistic and more quiet. Tamaki’s long drawn out groan drowned out her own soft whimpers and cries of his name.

The couple shared a long kiss, their bodies slowly coming down from their highs.

Tamaki panted heavily, nuzzling into her neck and kissing the forming bruises apologetically, fingers gently gliding over the various bite marks.

Y/N giggled, a hoarse sound, before her hands lovingly stroked his messy hair.

Comfortable silence followed their afterglow, Tamaki gently removing himself to lay beside her and cradle her tenderly to his chest. She giggled, shaking her head at the plethora of emotions she could pull out of her shy boyfriend.

Tamaki’s own hand glided through her hair and down her back, grabbing the blanket to cover them from the cold air creeping over their sweaty skin. “So…are you still feeling inadequate?”

She laughed when she glanced at the bright red ears and cheeks of her boyfriend, who cleared his throat and ducked his head shyly, as if the events prior hadn’t even happened. “N-No…t-thanks to you.” his smile was soft and sweet, melting her heart.

Y/N nuzzled her nose with his, grinning. “You know Tamaki, if you’re ever feeling inadequate again, just tell me!” she winked and the action sent a shiver rushing down his spine. “Oh! I know, what about showing the other heroes how awesome you are if we do it in your office-”

Tamaki’s eyes widened in horror. “Y-Y/N n-not-not in the office!!” her shy boyfriend covered his face in embarrassment at the prospect.

There were Fatgum and Kirishima and all the other heroes. It would bring so much shame! He wouldn’t- he couldn’t-!

Laughter filled his ears and he felt Y/N’s arms wrap around his middle and her lips press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Bonus:

“What’s the matter, Suneater? I’m surprised you’re not in your chicken form from how well I can see those feathers ruffling!” one of the pro heroes shared a laugh with his colleague for the joke.

Tamaki, dressed in full hero costume and dusting himself off after a successful villain apprehension, glanced at them.

You aren’t the things they say you are.

You need to have the heart of a lion, not a kitten!

The pro’s laughed amongst themselves, until a sudden strong gust of wind knocked them off to the ground. “What the-!”

Wings larger than the size of Hawk’s own blocked the sun from sight, deep shadows falling on the pale faces of the two heroes, who looked up at the towering form of Suneater himself.

Tamaki’s wings spanned wide, taking up space for himself, sharp talons cracking the concrete beneath his feet. The black claws seemed larger than one of the pro hero’s hands and both men froze when Suneater spoke in a low tone, his sharp stare piercing right through them.

“Maybe you didn’t catch my hero name,” the two heroes were unable to tear their gaze away from the man glaring down at them, despite the shot of fear rushing down their spines. “But I’m Suneater and you’re in my way.”

#tamaki x reader #tamaki amajiki #tamaki amajiki smut #tamaki smut #bnha tamaki #smut #smut fic #bnha smut #mha smut #tamaki amajiki x reader #amajiki tamaki #aged up characters #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha fic #bnha fic

4K notes · View notes

finitepeace · 3 years

Text

this week i read...

Darling, Keep the Lights On (Until I Get Home) by capsicleironman 💙

Summary: When Steve Rogers is awoken from the ice early, he is assigned as the personal assistant to Tony Stark, the man on TV with the strange glowing light in his chest. The plan was simple - protect and gain intel. It was supposed to be just another job, but then again, nothing in Steve's life has ever gone according to plan.

Iron Man 2 Divergence where Steve ends up working for Tony instead of Natasha, and his interest first in the arc reactor and then in Tony himself, leads him through the events of the Avengers, Iron Man 3, and Captain America 2.

17k words

It's Only Half Past (The Point of Oblivion) by LadyHabren (equalopportunityobsessor)

Summary: "I think it's generally agreed that all of Steve's senses are powered up by the serum? He can hear people whispering on the other side of the room, probably sees a hell of a lot further, etc.

But there are definite downsides. How does Steve control this side effect of the serum?"

Captain America is more than a man - he is a hero, he is an ideal, he is pure muscle held together by patriotism and moral fibre... And not even Captain America can fight it when his own brain turns against him.

4k, sentinel/guide au, not set in mcu,

Do-Over by gottalovev 💙

Summary: Steve woke up six months ago into a future that leaves him indifferent. There is work, and not much else. His current mission is a basic search and rescue operation to retrieve an American who was kidnapped by a terrorist group ten days ago. He won't let the fact that the hostage is Howard's son be a distraction.

14k words, ironman 1 - 2 but with steve on it!,

Calls Me Home by steve-capsicle-rogers (adorable_lab_rat)

Summary: Tony can't help but notice the far away look on Steve's face. The visible pain and loss. It wasn't right and giving Steve back everything he'd lost was the right choice. The right thing. And honestly Tony didn't do the right thing near enough.

9k words, post avenger 1, tony time travels to victory day with steve to make him happy

Memorial by hanyou_elf

Summary: Here rests in honored glory an American Soldier known but to God.

Steve visits Arlington's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in lieu of visting the tombs of those he's lost.

600+ words, steve visits his grave and tony supports

Damaged by orphan_account

Summary: Prompt: Can you write a story where Tony is having heart problems again even after the shrapnel and arc reactor is removed, like he needs a pacemaker or something please? :)

Steve is worried about Tony after the doctor tells them Tony needs a pacemaker. Tony being Tony decides to build something better.

2k words, arc reactor + health problem

Warning by laireshi

Summary: Tony's left arm hurts.

100 words, angst post-civil war au

Told You Dirty Jokes Until You Smiled by ChibiSquirt 💙

Summary: Steve was waiting at light, casually checking out the man in the car behind him, when his phone pinged.

75k words. WIP T_T . steve is cap but tony isnt ironman (yet?). steve is awaken before ironman 1 and meets tony, proceed to have friends with benefits arrangement...

blood, Lies, and Love by Ridley160

Summary: When Steve Rogers volunteered for Project Rebirth they told him they would make him a hero. No one bothered to tell him that the serum would change him into a monster that needed to feed on the blood of the living for survival. Now he has woken up 70 years in a future where there are more like him and his affliction is now seen as gift. Only Steve is convinced that he is at his core still just a monster.

Then he meets the brilliant, quirky and charismatic Tony Stark, the only person in this crazy new world that seems to understand Steve's misgivings about what he is, but Tony is haunted by something. A secret he has carefully guarded for many years that forced him to push everyone away.

33k words in 13 chapters, steve is cap + a vampire but tony isnt ironman,

Blood Loss by wisia

Summary: The serum really did work a miracle. It created Captain America, and Tony would like the serum to work a miracle on him too. If only he didn’t fall in love.

5k words, set in captain america 1st avenger, tony is scientist/adventurer looking for a cure for his heart problem

scientific Heresy by antigrav_vector

Summary: In the process of running the particle accelerator in his basement and fixing the arc reactor, Tony finds himself flung into the past where he has to take on a fight not his own if he wants to get home to stop Vanko. At least he had a chance to replace the old rector that had been killing him with the new one before everything went sideways... But now he has no choice but to face off with family, friends, and old heroes, and none of that sounds remotely appealing. Well, okay, getting to meet them all during their glory days kinda does.

But as it turns out, they're not exactly what he imagined, and his path home is a lot longer than he'd hoped it would be.

And a lot more complicated.

34k words in 12 chapters, time travel au @ cap 1 and ironman 2, steve/tony/bucky

we will meet in another life by theappleppielifestyle

Summary: Tony is there instead of Howard during Project Rebirth. He ends up following Steve into the Howling Commandos, into the Atlantic ocean and into the 21st century.

6k words, canon divergence.

Keep on Beating by itsallAvengers

Summary: There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

6k words, self-sacrificing tony strikes again and steve is upset.. so tony comes to a solution...

Coming Up Roses by NobodysBloodyPrincess 💙

Summary: Those with a death wish referred to the High Commander’s infatuation with the late Tony Stark as an ‘obsession.’ They were wrong. It had to be more than that, after all there was no word for what the High Commander was about do in the name of making things right.

No one gets a redo of life… no one except High Commander Rogers that is. Everything is coming up Roses and Sunshine for him. After all, he has a dream and it’s going to come true.

41k words in 3 chapters, beautiful but a bit dark and sad, just like the author said: “‘i’ll be with you till the end of line’ but stony”, definitely one of the best fic i’ve read because THEY ARE HAPPY T_T

The One With Bucky's Biggest Fan by justanotherpipedream

Summary: Steve still can’t believe how long it took for him to notice. It wasn’t a secret really, just something that no one had cared to ask...it honestly took Rhodey pulling him aside and pulling out an old photo album, before Steve really understood.

Tony Stark was a Bucky Barnes fan.

(aka The one where Tony is the biggest Bucky Barnes fanboy, Steve is a supportive boyfriend, and Bucky is perplexed by it all.)

2k words, it’s all in the summary

Sins of the Mother by skullshy 💙

Summary: All she could see when her eyes closed was Steve’s face in the courtroom. Stern, pained— with that fucking all-American self-righteousness.

Toni wondered for years whether it would have made a difference. Told him that she was pregnant, that Ultron was to protect their baby, and how sorry she was.

On her worst days, she imagined it wouldn’t have mattered.

23k words in 23 chapters, female tony stark, civil war (or age of ultron?) canon divergence

So this is bonded life by Captainstark12

Summary: Steve had been protecting the human village from hydra creatures like him for five years. And now he was ready to take his prize as he had the privilege of choosing an omega to bear his child. Hopefully his chosen omega human would want him back as much as he wanted him

4k in 6 chapters, mythology au

I don't think there's a manual for this by itsallAvengers

Summary: So. His son can stick to things, apparently.

If only Tony had realised this before he'd caught him hanging off the 89th floor of the tower.

Well. Parenting was never going to be a smooth road, was it?

2k words, stony adopts peter parker and then they become superfamily

For Your Eyes Only by SarahHBE

Summary: Every soldier looks forward to mail call. But Alpha Steve Rogers gets a big surprise with the letter his Omega, Tony Stark, has sent him.

2k words, explicit bcs of sexual content

It Was Just A Matter Of Time by babynative

Summary: The clock was ticking. And then, black.

719 words, civil war canon divergence, angst

This Can't Be The Last by MusicalLuna

Summary: Hours after a mission ends, Tony's heart starts to race.

1k words, tony had a heart attack, but not angst!

The Billionaire and the Army Captain by Neverever

Summary: Facing finanical ruin and needing to care for his sick daughter, Steve Rogers agrees to marry Tony Stark, who needs to get married by his 30th birthday to inherit. It's just a job for Steve until he starts to fall for the enigmatic billionaire.

12k words, non-powers au,

Adopt by greenteeth 💙

Summary: Steve's life is the same as usual. He goes to work, fights super villains, banters with other Avengers and goes home to an empty apartment. Until the son of an old friend shows up asking for help, well sex first, then help. Suddenly Steve is married, fighting super villains, worrying what Obadiah Stane and coming home to Tony most nights of the week.

42k words in 17 chapters, ABO, tony is not iron man, the story is complete but it’s a part of series that seems to never see the light T_T

The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation by scifigrl47 💙

Summary: When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

84k words in 8 chapters, stony but mostly looking through his AI bots a.k.a. jarvis and dum-e, definitely one of the best fics ever!

Bewitched, Body and Soul by iam93percentstardust

Summary: Almost ten years after joining the British Army, Steve Rogers returns to his childhood home after his mother's death. The house seems quiet in a way that it's rarely been. But the peace is shattered when his oldest friend stumbles into his home and into his life, seeking an escape from an arranged marriage to a cruel lord. Steve provides that escape but finds himself engaged to be married instead. This wouldn't be a problem - except that Steve is, always has been, and always will be deeply in love with Tony Stark.

16k words, regency AU, ABO, the classic stony misunderstanding trope

Right place, right time by hkandi, ralsbecket

Summary: An alternate take on the Captain America: The First Avenger movie. Tony is working with his dad to help out the SSR on this new project, though he and Steve happen to run into each other before that, and sparks fly from the start.

8k, CA: First avenger AU with tony stark present

#stevetony #stony #fics read

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shiningdesignersreflections · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3: Forever Islet

Narrated by Peppermint.

Peppermint: Ok, I’ll wait for your call.

Peppermint: Yeah, well, goodbye, Sue.

Narrator: I regretted it a little the moment I put down my phone.

Narrator: I don’t know if there’re terrible eyes watching my every move right now.

Narrator: Maybe this phone call has exposed Sue’s location. The forces that destroy the critical point are waiting for me to do so.

Narrator: Therefore, I can no longer contact the magician, in order to protect the deepest secrets of the world.

Choose either “What secret?” or “What is this all about?”

If “secret,” ...

You: What secret?

Narrator: I’m sorry, I can’t tell you.

If “about,” ...

You: What on earth is going on here?

Narrator: It’s complicated to explain, and you probably won’t believe me.

Narrator: I picked up the paintbrush on the table again.

Narrator: It’s the only thing I can do now.

Narrator: Although I don’t know if what I draw now can eventually be conveyed, maybe it will be buried on this isolated island forever.

Narrator: But I also have to keep a glimmer of hope and record all this.

Narrator: This is the last mission of a shuttler.

Narrator: Even if all the connections are cut off, even if I’m sealed with loneliness, even if I become an eternal isolated island...

Narrator: I won’t throw in the towel either.

Narrator: And this pen in my hand will be a long sword dressed in glory, leading me to pierce the endless darkness.

Narrator: At least... You’ll remember me, won’t you?

Choose either “I certainly will!” or “Why change the style to this?”

If “certainly,” ...

You: Don’t worry, I will!

Narrator: Thank you for being there for me at the last minute.

If “style,” ...

You: Why did it suddenly go this way?

Narrator: Anyway, thank you for being with me at the last minute.

Narrator: The posture of holding the pen becomes resolute.

Peppermint: Peppermint XIX, ready... go...

Narrator: The sunshine outside the window was still bright, maybe I can never touch it again. Please... for me...

Narrator: My cell phone suddenly rang. It was the magician!

Narrator: In spite of the danger of exposing myself, I answered the call.

Narrator: Because... I don’t want to give up yet.

Peppermint: Hey, Sue...

Susan: I asked Ai to check, the phone line was cut off by the construction team. It can be repaired in the afternoon.

Susan: I’ve already talked to everyone waiting for the live broadcast and changed it to the afternoon.

Peppermint: Uh, yes, please, thank you...

Narrator: The 10th of every month is the day to update my cartoon.

Comic Editor: The plots were super good this time, it would go viral. It was amazing. How did you come up with this kind of plot?

Peppermint: Well, they suddenly came to me.

Comic Editor: Ha, I hope this could continue! You will win the New Cartoon Award this year!

Narrator: As predicted by the editor, after the update, the ranking of comics suddenly jumped to the top. Readers left comments below.

Reader A: Trapped on an island forever... How sad!

Reader B: You’re amazing.

Reader C: Cool!

Reader D: Can’t wait to see what will happen next!

Choose “Didn’t expect to get inspiration from Internet disconnection...”

You: Unfortunately, they didn’t know that the inspiration was the disconnection of the Internet this time.

Narrator: Well, didn’t a great artist say that art comes from life?

Narrator: Maybe maintenance was just an illusion. There was a bigger conspiracy!

Narrator: As a shuttler, I’m supposed to see through the deeper crisis.

Narrator: So I have to guard the critical point of dimension.

Narrator: You can’t tell anyone.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

#peppermint #shining nikki #sr designer #transcript #chapter 3 #forever islet #comic #suicide seal #deadline #procrastination #phone line down #internet down #storytelling #unreliable narrator #cartoon

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5hadow-alpha · 4 years

Text

A Rambly New Year’s Message for the Thunderfam

So it’s almost a new year, and that means taking a bit of time to look back on the last twelve months and everything that has happened. Admittedly 2020 has been, to put it bluntly, awful. But there is one thing that has made it bearable.

You guys. The Thunderfam.

I’ve been on Tumblr for about five months now, and like every newbie I’ve seen on here, have been welcomed with open arms into an incredible family of people I am so, so proud to be a part of. It’s almost contradictory to feel so close to a group of people I have never even met.

I’ve always been wary of social media, and the few apps I do have are used for messaging friends - I don’t post or react to anything. Yet somehow you guys have given me the confidence to put up drawings and even a story, and like and reblog and comment and still feel safe. Occasionally it’s still hard to pluck up the courage to interact, and sometimes I can’t comment because I’m so amazed by what I’ve seen someone create that I can’t find any words that would justify it, so a like or a reblog has to do. I’ve gone from laughing until my stomach hurts, to literally sitting on the edge of my seat, to crying my eyes out a couple of minutes later, all because of the incredible talent I see on my feed every day.

I’ve also lurked in the shadows of a few fandoms over the years, and have watched them slowly die once the shows have ended. It’s heart-breaking to see, but even though TAG is over (for now! We can always hope) we’re still thriving. My biggest regret is not discovering Tumblr five years ago because I would have loved to watch this fandom grow and blossom into what it is today.

I wish there was some way to let everyone who worked on the show, or even any part of the Thunderbirds franchise, to see what an amazing community of people we’ve built here. Because then they would be able to see what an incredible thing they’ve done by bringing us all together. You lot are a fantastic group of people who just personify everything that International Rescue and the Thunderbirds stand for. You’re there to catch people when they’re falling and put them back on their feet, and there’s so much kindness and love here that is almost impossible to find out there in the big wide world.

To quote a certain dark-haired pilot we all know and love, “when you send out an SOS, you deserve to know there’s someone out there. Listening.”

That is completely and totally you guys.

I’ve seen the SOS posts on my feed and I’ve felt awful because I haven’t been able to do much for you aside from a fairly feeble attempt at support in the form of a few words. I don’t have any screenshots and there aren’t enough hours in the day to draw or write something for you even though each and every one of you completely deserve it.

I’ve been there, I’ve struggled. This year has hit us all hard, and we’ve all dealt with our challenges. I’ve been struggling through a sudden loss in November that really knocked me off my feet after everything else that has gone wrong this year. I’m slowly getting back up now, but you guys need to know that is was the people on here that gave me a lifeline when I needed it most, and you didn’t even have to try.

And for the people out there still struggling, believe me when I say it won’t last forever. I can’t promise 2021 will be magically perfect, but we’re slowly but surely getting there. It might take while, but things will get easier. And if you ever want to talk, I’m only a message away. One of my favourite quotes has always been ‘things will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay it’s not the end.’ So keep going, you’ll make it to where you want to be!

Do you guys realise how amazing you all are? I was catching up on all of your posts the other day and suddenly realised I had this little smile on my face just from seeing all of your incredible drawings and stories and videos and photo edits and screenshots (there were so many and they are so good that the app crashed XD). And I have a hard time believing that I am the only one who realises that scrolling through those posts leaves you in a much better place than it did before. There is always something there to brighten your day.

It’s mindboggling to think that so many of you are at the opposite end of the country, in completely different continents, or even on the other side of the planet. But it makes absolutely no difference where we are in the world, because you all contribute so much to this community and give so much to people who need it.

I feel like for all of the hours of work and effort that you put into what you do whilst still managing to live real life, all the appreciation in the world wouldn’t be enough to express how fabulous you all are. So this is my attempt at stringing a few words together to make up for the fact that I can’t always do justice to the amazing things I’ve seen and the breath-taking people on this site. The imagination, kindness, and talent here is endless!

I know I’m not a big account, and I don’t know how many people will see this post. But I hope it gets a lot of reblogs, because every single member of this fandom should read it and realise how much you mean to me and all the others here.

I’m so grateful to have found you, and when I look back on 2020 I won’t remember it as the ‘Year the Pandemic Happened’, but as the ‘Year of the Thunderfam’.

So thank you Thunderfam, from the bottom of my heart, for being the highlight of my year and a ray of sunshine during some really tricky and horrible times. Here’s hoping 2021 will take us onwards and upwards!

So many tags, and I know I don’t have everyone! @psychoseal @seathesilverlinings @misssquidtracy @gentlebluelizard @dragonoffantasyandreality @olliepig @weirdburketeer @tsarisfanfiction @rachfielden-xo @angelofbenignmalevolence @lenna-z @gumnut-logic @gordonthegreatesttracy @drileyf @ak47stylegirl @thunderskybird @scarlett3drag0n @photowizard17 @weathergirl8 @inertplanetary @1bluesilvertracy @thunderbird-one-ai @soniabigcheese @neuroticphysiologist @singmetothesun @hironojp @louthestarspeaker @eirabach @mrseviltedi @i-am-chidorixblossom @the-lady-razorsharp @bonsaiiiiiii @fictivekaleidoscope @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @myladykayo @willow-salix @incorrect-thunderbirds-quotes @fearlesstracy @hedwigstalons @tinglingsquidsense @thunderbirds-are-fab @lenle-g @vegetacide @godsliltippy @misstb2 @gordoncoopertracy @sonatanotwo @flyboytracy @tag-rewatch

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fandom #thunderfam #new year #goodbye 2020 #gratitude for some amazing people #love you guys

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lockefanfic · 4 years

Text

Callsign

War never changes.

There were times, though, when you found it difficult to believe the pilot of this particular plane could live up to such a fearsome lineage. You glance up at the closed canopy, and the name emblazoned there in gold paint, along with her infamous callsign: LT. E. JUNG - “KAR-”

“You want to tell my why the fuck the starboard nacelle is still acting up on shallow banks, Chief?”

Even before you turn to face the speaker, you knew who it would be - her voice was one you’d grown to know well over your past few years aboard the UNS Busan. It was a wonderful, musical voice with a hint of a countryside accent, and you knew personally from more than one drunken karaoke session in the pilots’ lounge that she had a great singing voice - unfortunately for you, she usually used that voice to whine about something on her plane.

You sigh once more before you turn and face her, steeling yourself for yet another confrontation.

“I’ve already told you, Lieutenant Jung - the readouts don’t display anything out of the ordinary. I’ve taken that thing apart and put it back together twice, and couldn’t find any issues in the parts or the way they go together. It’s all in your head.”

You turn away from her and continue to walk down the sleek fuselage of the fighter, your fingertips once again tracing its outer shell the same way an owner would touch a close pet. Your fingertips lightly graze its anti-radar, anti-cyberwarfare, anti-everything skin, as though apologizing for the way its pilot treated it.

“It’s all in your head, Lieutenant!” she corrects, following closely behind you, anger still prevalent in her tone. “All I’m asking for is for my goddamn bird to be able to bank without sounding like it’s got fucking spacelung.”

“I’ll get someone to give it another look, but I’m telling ya, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Another glare. If she weren’t so intensely beautiful at the same time, you’d think she was about to explode.

---

The F-121 Raptor III was a thing of beauty.

Its sleek lines and curves gave it the impression of a hawk or eagle, always crouched, muscles tensed, ready to leap into the sky at a moment’s notice to swoop in on its unsuspecting prey and snatch it up with its talons before flying off somewhere to feast. In years gone by, the previous versions of this warplane did just that, dancing in the endless blue of Earth’s sky, swooping in with guided missiles and rotary cannons instead of talons - every bit as dangerous as the birds of prey that were its namesake.

The Raptor III carried on the legacy of its forefathers - but the vast darkness of space was its playground now, and it did its hunting not with talons or missiles, but with focused energy weapons and kinetic projectile accelerators. Laser beams and gatling guns, in other words.

The theatre and weapons of war have changed, but some things never do. In some long forgotten text someone wiser than you once put perfect words to that sentiment: war; war never changes.

In the early 21st century it was long thought that fighter pilots were on their last legs. Drones and AI were the future, they all said, and soon pilots would be reduced to sitting on their asses thousands of miles away from the battlefield, controlling their planes with joysticks and keyboards, looking for all intents and purposes like they were playing the fanciest (and most expensive) video game on Earth instead of remote piloting multibillion dollar aircraft and dropping very real, very destructive bombs on the other side of the planet.

But networked drones, it turned out, could be hacked.

And so despite the thousands of years of collective human technology and the billions of credits that each of these modern day hawks took to make - they still needed pilots.

Gradually, as hackers and anti-drone cyberwarfare became more and more prevalent, pilots found themselves taking back to the skies. The human brain, afterall, couldn’t be hacked; at least, not yet. And so, a full two centuries after the first F-22 Raptor fired its weapons in anger, the newest version of it still needed a pilot. Without it, this magnificent creation, the very pinnacle of human technology and advancement, was only so much useless metal trash. Just as the knights of old turned domestic farm horses into fearsome weapons of war, so the knights of today turned these magnificent machines into instruments of destruction.

War never changes.

“You want to tell my why the fuck the starboard nacelle is still acting up on shallow banks, Chief?”

You sigh once more before you turn and face her, steeling yourself for yet another confrontation.

“I’ll get someone to give it another look, but I’m telling ya, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Another glare. If she weren’t so intensely beautiful at the same time, you’d think she was about to explode.

“...Lieutenant,” you finish, turning away once more to follow the fuselage of the plane towards its rear. When you reach the rear of it you give it one last pat on its vectored thrust outtake.

“I swear to god, all you grease monkies do around here is dick around on your PlayStation 22s while I’m up there flying in a bucket of bolts-”

You turn immediately on your heel and face her.

“Don’t you dare call her a bucket of bolts… Lieutenant.”

Lieutenant Jung seethes - her nostrils flare, her eyes widen, and her cheeks puff up; but she still looked intensely adorable, like some anime girl from the ‘flix come to life. If she were trying to look intimidating or angry, she was failing. Either way, you’d had enough with her demands, and you begin to walk away towards the crew offices adjacent to the hangar.

“We’re not done here, Chief!” Lieutenant Jung shouts after you, the loud clang of her flight boots on the hangar deck telling you she was stomping her way behind you, “You’re gonna tell me what the fuck it’ll take to get my bird flying smoothly, or I swear to god I’ll take this straight to the CAG!”

“Go ahead,” you say with a dismissive wave behind you, “the CAG owes me from poker last week. I wonder what side he’ll take?”

Lieutenant Jung lets out a wordless, frustrated sound leave her throat as you push open the door to your office. She stomps in after you and shuts the door.

Then she turns, drops her flight helmet on the floor and grabs you by the face with both hands before crushing her lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

It was wrong on so many levels - she was a pilot and you a crew chief, she was an officer and you were enlisted, she was a spacer and you were born on Earth - but there was no denying the passion that existed between you. The intensity of it only flared up immediately after she flew CAP or went out on sortie, returning to the Busan all hopped up on pilot stimms and adrenaline. All she wanted after each flight was a shower, a beer, and your cock between her legs - and not necessarily in that order, and sometimes even at the same time.

Both of your pairs of hands work with a frenzied pace at each others’ clothes - her long, dainty fingers working the buttons of your overalls while your paws, still greasy with engine oil, work on the straps and buckles of her flight suit. It was a race she won more often than not; pilots obviously wore a ton more equipment on their persons than deck chiefs. And so while she had succeeded in getting the top half of your overalls off, you had just finished getting her flight rig undone.

She shakes off the heavy webbing from her shoulders, and she takes it upon herself to start to unzip the flightsuit zipper at her collarbone.

“You need to get faster at that, Chief.”

“You need to wear less, Eunji.”

The response is a smile at your use of her first name - a smile that is so dazzling it made the stars you’d spent so many hours staring at on the observation deck look pale by comparison. In your quieter moments, alone in bed together on those rare occasions when your off-duty hours matched, you’d mentioned once that you thought her callsign should be “Sunshine”; to match that thousand watt smile of hers. She’d giggled it off and said that pilots didn’t choose their callsign; it was given to them by other pilots. She’d said “Sunshine” sounded stupid, and not threatening or deadly the way pilot callsigns were supposed to be.

Nonetheless, when you gave her a small necklace with a small golden sun on it for her birthday, she wore it every day since, right next to her dog tags.

The necklace shone now in the artificial light of your office as she strips out of her flight suit, revealing a sweat soaked white tank top beneath that clung to her form like a second skin, and the delightful absence of a bra beneath it. Her skin, her perfect, vanilla skin, shines faintly with a sheen of her sweat, making her glisten. Her nipples poke invitingly from her chest, plain to see beneath the thin material of her tank top.

You can’t wait a moment later, and you give her a brief but passionate kiss before diving into her neck, planting kisses on the softness there, enjoying the taste of her sweat on your lips and tongue. She lets a soft, musical sound escape her lips - she had a great singing voice, but now, when the sounds escaping her are wordless gasps of lust and need, her voice sounded utterly sublime.

You reach a hand to her side, enjoying the feel of her tight, toned midsection before quickly reaching up her torso to fondle her left breast. You enjoy the feel of her soft mound in your hand and the rapidly hardening nipple poking through her tank top, and you smile against her neck even as her voice fills your ears with yet another wordless sound of pleasure.

You are content to spend a few more minutes playing with her body, enjoying the feel of her melting into your hands and mouth, but she is impatient, needy, still high from the adrenaline of her recent flight; she needed more, and needed it now.

She grasps the bottom of her tank top before pulling it over her head, leaving her naked from the waist up aside from the shiny metal of her dog tags and the gold of her sun pendant. The sun hangs a little lower than the dog tags, resting between her small, round breasts, and you smile at the symmetry of it.

“Stop staring and suck on them, Chief,” she says, with the same tone as if she were giving you an order.

“Right away, Lieutenant,” you answer with a mocking tone. She opens her mouth to answer, but the breath is stolen from her lungs when you bring both hands up to her naked breasts, squeezing both before capturing her left nipple in your lips. You involuntarily take a few steps forward, and soon you are pressing her against the closed door to your office. She sighs softly, wrapping her arms around your neck and pushing her chest out, standing on her tiptoes to make it easier on your bent back - all in an effort to give you better access to her wanton, needy body.

She loved it when you sucked on her breasts; nothing got her off quicker, got her more in the mood. She loved it when you drifted a hand between her legs, loved when you ate her out; but nothing got her as hot and bothered as when you played with those small, round, perfectly shaped mounds, and the perfect, tight little nipples atop each one.

“Smaller tits are more sensitive,” she’d told you once, and from the way she gasped and writhed and quivered with each lick and suck and nibble you placed on her breasts, you were inclined to believe her.

But you wanted more, wanted to put her in her place for the way she told you off in the hangar in front of your entire deck crew - even if you thought you did a pretty good job of standing up for yourself. She was so bratty sometimes, so needy, that it satisfied you to no end whenever you had your way with her behind closed doors. She couldn’t behind her rank when it came to sex.

You tear your mouth away from her chest, eliciting a groan of disappointment from the pilot. Her eyes glazed over and half-lidded with pleasure, she grasps you by the shoulder before turning you around and pushing you against the door to your office, resulting in a louder crash than you were expecting. A small part of you hoped no one happened to hear it, but a larger part of you couldn’t care less, not when Lieutenant Jung drops to her knees, peels your dirty overalls off your body, and gives your hard, stiff shaft a lick from base to tip.

It was such an erotic sight - the haughty, proud, cocky pilot on her knees with a cock on her lips - that it drove you insane each and every time you saw it. You reach down and run a hand through her hair, grazing her cheek. Her lips are busy planting soft kisses on your hard shaft, but her eyes tell you need to know about what she wanted.

“Fuck my face, Chief.”

Another soft kiss, another long, slow lick of your cock.

“...that’s an order.”

You were never one to defy orders - especially not ones like this. And so when the lieutenant takes the head of your aching, stiff shaft inbetween her lips and braces herself against you with her palms flat against your thighs, you prepare yourself to execute the order you are given.

Slowly at first, but soon building to a quick pace, you slide your shaft in and out of Lieutenant Jung’s needy mouth. Your hands grasp the back and side of the pilot’s head as you fuck her mouth, her tongue swirling devilishly all over your shaft with each entry and exit.

“Mmmmffmfm,” she mumbles, the sound sending wonderful vibrations onto your cock as is slides in and out of her slick, hot mouth.

You gasp, involuntarily, at the pleasure that is quickly building at your core, and you tear your eyes away from the delicious sight in front of you and try to focus on something, anything else to keep from cumming too soon. But the desire to retrieve some measure of revenge for the way she treated you outside closed doors, the way she was so bratty and demanding out in public - it drove you to fuck that mouth of hers a little harder, a litte rougher than you were expecting. There was some perverse satisfaction to be found in taking a mouth that was usually filled with complaints and filling it with cock.

Eunji got off on it too - on the roughness and disregard for her general needs that you showed during sex. Perhaps she got off on the reversal of power and her newfound helplessness. Maybe she just loved rough sex. Either way, you weren’t one to complain.

For long, beautiful minutes you stand there, thrusting your hard cock in and out of Lieutenant Jung Eunji’s mouth. After awhile she looks up at you with those large, round eyes of hers that were somehow so innocent and so mischievous all at the same time - and for you that was it, that was the end of your patience. You had to have her, had to have all of her.

You practically tear the girl’s needy mouth from your shaft, her lips still sucking tightly on your cock as she lets out a little whimper of disappointment. Her whimper soon turns into a wanton gasp, however, when you pull the previously haughty pilot from her knees on the floor and push her towards your desk.

Eunji knows what this is, knows what you intend to do, and the pilot quickly pulls down her flightsuit until it is past her round, full ass of hers and halfway down her thighs.

Lieutenant Jung Eunji’s ass was on another level - round and full and tight, it was perhaps her most attractive feature, aside from that blindingly bright smile, of course. Her thick pilot’s flightsuit did little to hide her assets, and you caught yourself more than once watching, dumbfounded, as her wide-set hips swayed and swung when she walked away from you, those round cheeks so full, so inviting, so perfectly shaped it all too often made slack-jawed fools out of you and every other man on the hangar deck.

She didn’t wear panties, either. Too hot and sweaty in the cockpit, she told you once, and they had a tendency to ride up into her nether regions every time she twisted and turned in her seat. The sight of that perfect little ass and wide hips of hers, naked now, uncovered by some flimsy piece of underwear, all sweaty and tight…

You want to be inside her, want to fill the needy little girl with all of you, but you manage to gather enough self control to tease her, make her beg for it. Her display of arrogance out in the hangar, the gall she had to call you out for her plane’s perceived problems - it made you want to retaliate.

You press yourself against her, your stiff shaft, still moist with her spit, pressing between the two large, full cheeks of her ass, your hands reaching out to caress those wide hips of hers. You give her a few small strokes, enjoying the feel of her perfect butt cradling each side of your cock.

“Do you want this, Lieutenant?” you ask, mockingly.

“Fuck yes, Chief.”

“I don’t know if I want to fuck you, given how much of an annoying little brat you’ve been.”

Eunji lets out a gasp of equal parts frustration and need.

“I.. fuck, Chief! Just put it in me.”

“No. Beg for it.”

“What?”

“Fucking beg for this cock, Lieutenant.”

Eunji moans, a sound that would have been soft and musical were it not loaded with lust and need.

“Mmmm fucking stick your cock in me, Chief. Fuck me with that cock. Fuck me and make me moan and make me cum all over your dick. Fuck me until you fill me with cum and-”

Eunji’s words are cut off as you thrust yourself inside her, her small body pressed forward against the desk. When she regains her breath she lets a long, drawn out moan of pleasure hiss from her lips as she adjusts to the full, stiff shaft that she has suddenly been filled with. Her pussy is soft and warm and slick and you want to let out a gasp of your own, but you hold back - you didn’t want to give her that satisfaction.

You start fucking her, with hard, smooth strokes, her drenched pussy having no problem accepting each thrust into her tight little body. Normally you would have slipped inside her slowly, given her time to adjust to you before slowly ramping up the speed and depth of your thrusts - but not today, not when she was acting the way she was. Not when she needed to be put into her place.

“Oh, fuck, fuck that feels good…. Oh fuck, you’re so fucking big inside me,” Eunji gasps, having found the breath to vocalise her pleasure now. Her hands search for something on the desk to grasp as an outlet for her pleasure, but she fails to find anything, and she settles for digging her fingernails as deeply as she could into the wooden surface.

Fucking the cocky pilot from behind on your desk would have been enough, and you would have gladly continued doing so until you filled her with the cum she so desperately wanted - but you wanted more, wanted to truly put her into her place.

You push on her sweaty back with an open palm until her torso is flat on the desk, and taking her right arm, you bend it behind her and hold it against her back by the wrist. You take her left arm with your own and, grasping it by the wrist, use it to pull the rest of her body back as you thrust forward with your cock.

It is a position of pure power and dominance, and you watch delightfully as Eunji squirms and writhes beneath you on the desk, helpless to do anything but take your cock as you fuck her hard over your desk. You worry slightly about hurting her, but the gasps and moans and filthy words that soon escape her mouth convince you she’s more than okay with the way she is being treated.

“Fuck yes, Chief… ohh, unggh! Fuck me, fuck me just like that… fuck me!”

“Do you like it, Lieutenant? You like being bent over a desk and fucked like this?” you spit, your words punctuated by the sound of your hips slapping against hers.

“Fuck… fuck yes! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me… Fuck me however you want. Fuck me like your personal slut!”

The sight of the haughty young lieutenant, so proud and cocky out on the deck, reduced to a writhing, hot, wet mess as she is bent over and fucked roughly - it is enough to drive you insane. The pleasure quickly building in your loins as you fuck the mewling woman worries you with the speed of its build up.

“Fuck… you’re so fucking… tight, Lieutenant. Fuck… you’re gonna make me fucking cum soon.”

“No!” Eunji hisses, surprising you. She squirms roughly, her strength taking you by surprise as she wriggles out of the hold you have on her body. She pushes back against you, and your shaft slips out of her, glistening and dripping with her juices.

Eunji practically rips her flightsuit off, tearing the one piece suit off her long, sweat-drenched legs, leaving her only in her white tank top, which she peels from her torso. She hops quickly onto the desk, spreading her legs and grasping your slick cock with her right hand and quite literally using it as a handle to pull you between her thighs.

“You’re going to fuck me, Chief, and you’re going to fuck me until I cum first,” she hisses, the intensity on her face hard to deny - her eyes are tense and filled with intent and need. There is an anger in those dark brown pools as well, as though she is upset with the possibility that she could be denied the release she so desperately craved.

She points the head of your shaft at her splayed, pink lips of her pussy, and with her hands on your hips she pulls you towards her until you fill her once more with your cock.

You find yourself almost immediately fighting a battle you weren’t sure you could win, thrusting in and out of Eunji’s slick, wet pussy as she lies back on the desk, her perfect, sweaty, almost naked form laid out for you, each thrust of your cock resulting in a delightful shock to her body, giving her round breasts and full thighs a soft bounce each time.

She has so quickly reversed who held the power - mere seconds before you were the one in control, fucking her submissive little body from behind as she begged and pleaded for it; now you were the one trying your best to hold on as she took what she needed from you.

Eunji reaches down between your bodies to quickly find her clit. She swiftly begins to swirl a fingertip around the sensitive bud - even as your cock slips and in and out of her body not so far away. You spend a few wonderful seconds watching as your slick, glistening cock fucks her needy, hot pussy - and her fingers, so close to her splayed pink lips, rubbing her tight bud.

You raise your head from the wonderful sight to find that her eyes have been locked on yours the whole time. There is need and lust in those eyes, nothing more, nothing less.

Her mouth is frozen in an open “o” as she lets breathless gasps and moans escape her lips, her brow furrowed, her eyes pleading for more and more and more. Her fingertips increase their pace between her spread thighs, and her free hand claws at your wrist, her nails digging almost painfully into your skin. Inside her, she is tightening and pulsating around you, her slick walls wrapping themselves even tighter around your thrusting cock…

“Oh… oh fuck, I’m gonna... fucking cum,” she spits, her tone almost afraid, almost fearful of the amount of pleasure that was about to come. And you are thankful, because you were so deliciously close to that same peak yourself. Her fingers work quicker and quicker against her clit, swirling her slick juices around her sensitive bud as she comes closer and closer to the edge.

“Cum for me, Eunji,” you reply, all thought of rank cast aside - this was just two people pursuing pleasure, and nothing else mattered.

“I… Oh, I...oh!” Eunji gasps, and suddenly her body stiffens and quivers and shakes atop the table as her orgasm overtakes every inch of her being. The sight of her as she cums is the last straw for you - her pulsating, tightening pussy overcomes the last of your resistance and you follow Jung Eunji into the bliss of orgasm, driving yourself as deep as you can inside her before you release stream after thick stream of your thick, hot cum into her needy pussy.

Eunji draws you close as you cum, letting a soft, almost vulnerable moan escape her open mouth with each stream of semen that leaves your cock and splashes against her walls. She had a filthy mouth during sex, loved to tell you in vulgar detail what she wanted to do or wanted done to her. You’d heard her moan and gasp of lust and need plenty of times, but it is the soft, vulnerable little whimpers when you cum inside her that you treasure the most.

For long seconds you stay inside her as your respective orgasms wind down, both of your bodies recovering from the exertion with heavy breaths and gasps. Eventually you slip out of her, and a not insignificant stream of white semen drips from the splayed lips of her pussy.

Eunji watches the cum drip out of her with interest, biting her lip. She always loved it, always wanted you to cum inside her for this reason. And you loved watching her watch.

“Job well done, Chief,” she says, eyes still glued to the mess you made inside her as it drips onto your desk.

A few minutes pass as you both clean up after yourselves. You retrieve a few tissues from your desk which Eunji uses to clean up the mess between her thighs as you both slowly put your uniforms back on. It was awkward sometimes, immediately after sex, as you both come back, reluctantly, to reality - but when she gives you a sheepish smile after zipping up her flight suit, you couldn’t help but smile back.

She steps out into the hallway, back towards the deck, and as you close the door to your office you couldn’t help but notice how it looked a little darker, a little more dim without Jung Eunji’s presence. She was light, she was sunshine, and when she left the room she took her light with her.

You accompany her back to the hangar deck - her bunk was on the other side of the ship, and you needed to get back to work on her bird, anyway.

When you both reach her Raptor, your fingers reach out and graze its fuselage once more, like an owner returning to its pet after a day’s work. You could almost imagine it being happy to see you again.

“I’ll be back early tomorrow to check up on your work,” Lieutenant Jung says, with just a hint of that thousand watt smile on her lips. “Good work today, Chief.”

“Thanks. Have a good night, Sunshine.”

Her smile widens briefly, and while you hadn’t ever in your life had the pleasure of setting foot on Earth, you imagine that that was what it must have felt like to have a ray of sun set upon you. You let her walk away, cradling her pilot helmet under one arm.

Her hips, and the perfectly sculpted cheeks of that ass of hers, sway alluringly with each step she takes. You knew for a fact your eyes weren’t the only ones glued onto the young pilot’s swaying butt as she walks the width of the hangar and disappears into one of the adjoining corridors.

With a smile, you glance back up at her plane, and the gold lettering near the canopy where her name and callsign are emblazoned. She never told you how or when she got her callsign - only that it was the name of some well endowed celebrity from old Earth.

LT. E. JUNG - “KARDASHIAN.”

---

Author’s Note: Trying something new here with the sci-fi backstory. I think any fans of Battlestar Galactica (the remake) would know where I got the inspiration. I had the biggest crush on Boomer... ;)

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #apink eunji #jung eunji #male reader #pov smut

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

Text

The Tattoo (Part Five)

Thank you all so much for your wonderful support for this fic. It’s bouncing along and you guys are encouraging me so much ::hugs you all::

This fic is all @vegetacide ‘s fault :P

Many thanks to @scribbles97 @i-am-chidorixblossom and @vegetacide for all the plot help and reading :D

I hope you enjoy this part :D

-o-o-o-

Virgil hated medication. Hated it with a violent passion. It messed with everything. Made him dumb, stupid and out of control. And the fog. The post-medication fog was almost as bad as whatever injury he was trying to hide from.

This time was no different. His head was full of cotton wool and it was hard to put two thoughts together.

He knew he was in the infirmary. The crinkle of plastic cotton sheets gave that away. That and the smell. Grandma kept this place clean the old-fashioned way – antiseptic and scrubbing brushes. The fact MAX, one of the most technologically advanced AIs on the planet, often helped her do the cleaning was an oxymoron, but what worked did the job as far as she was concerned.

As usual, he made the same mistake he always made in this situation and tried to move.

He couldn’t help the groan as his arm complained.

“Virg?”

Gordon.

A slow blink and the orange of his little brother’s shirt wobbled into focus. “Gords?”

“Hey, Virg. How are you feeling?”

A grunt and a few more neurons came online. Apparently, apart from some stiffness, only his arm was giving him trouble.

And his head.

Damn fog.

“Been worse.” He focussed on his brother’s face and frowned. “Are you okay?” Gordon’s eyes were red rimmed and strained, his face pale. It was so unlike his little brother’s usual demeanour, alarm bells started ringing and the fog was shoved aside as much as possible. “Gordon, talk to me.” He shoved his good arm under and pushed himself up.

Gordon reacted immediately, shooting up out of his seat and attempting to usher Virgil to lie back on the bed. “Hey, relax, Virgil. I’m f-fine.”

But his sunshine brother’s voice cracked on the last word and Gordon, the brightest ray of light amongst his brothers, WASP agent, survivor, tough as nails IR operative, had a tremble in his voice.

What the hell?

Virgil made vertical, Gordon’s hands attempting to both help and hinder. The world spun for a few long moments, but he was more worried about Gordon. “What’s wrong?”

“Damn it, Virgil, Grandma’s going to kill me if you hurt yourself.”

A breath. “I’m fine.” Focus. He threw off the covers and swung his legs around so he could sit without falling over. His arm was strapped to his bare chest.

Oh.

Ohhhh.

Shit.

Gordon was looking at him with worried eyes. “I can explain.” The words fell from his mouth.

His brother had his hand on Virgil’s good arm. “Virg, please lie down. Grandma’s angry enough already.”

“What?” Damn the fog!

And Gordon was hugging him.

Ever so gently, his arms, so much wirier but no less athletic, seemed so small to Virgil. They always had. Emphasis on the words ‘little brother’.

Virgil’s one good arm returned the embrace as best he could. “Gords, what is it?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For everything.”

“What? Gords, I don’t have the brainpower, or the coffee, for a guessing game.” Ugh, medication meant no coffee allowed, damnit!

Gordon stepped back and despite all the aquanaut’s years of experience and full adulthood, all Virgil could see was that scared kid who had lost his remaining parent in a fireball all those years ago.

He grabbed his little brother’s arm. “Gordon, talk to me.”

Strained carnelian eyes. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Your tattoo.”

A swallow. “Because I needed to.” It had been a dark time.

There had been too many dark times.

Gordon’s eyes were focussed on Virgil’s shoulder, now swathed in bandages, likely hiding most of his tally.

“But Cass…”

Virgil’s heart froze. Pain far too recent to face. He couldn’t go there. Not yet.

No, please, not yet.

“It was Dad. And Mom. I…I wanted to acknowledge them. I needed them...with me.” How the hell did he explain it?

How did he explain the gaping holes they had left behind that he could not fill? Their ghosts haunted him in the deep of night. They hovered at the edge of his perception, taunting at being there, but when he turned, they were just as gone as they actually were.

Cass smiled at him in his dreams, his list of unfulfilled promises in her beautiful eyes.

“It helps.” A reminder of reality.

“But all those other dates?”

“A reminder. To try harder. To acknowledge their loss.”

“But-“

“It is my choice, Gordon. It does what I need it to do.”

His brother’s expression altered just a little, resignation creeping in. But then… “I have a book.” It was a whispered admission.

Blink. “What?”

Gordon straightened just a little. “I have a book. With names. Notes. What I remember about them. The ones I couldn’t help.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Gords…” His hand tightened around his brother’s arm.

The aquanaut looked up at him. “I do understand. Perhaps not the medium. But…yeah.” He looked away and sighed. “Dad’s pissed.”

Oh, shit.

“He and Scott had a showdown like I have never seen. It’s like Dad expected Scott to look after us. Like we aren’t adults. Like it was his responsibility.” Gordon’s lips thinned. “And Grandma…hell, Virg.”

And there was the source of the strain in his brother’s eyes. Family could hurt like no other.

“Help me up.” Virgil shuffled to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, god, hell no, Virg. Grandma will have your ass.” He floundered in an attempt to stop Virgil from climbing off the bed.

“Well, apparently, she already has everyone else’s, so I’ll just add it to her collection.” His feet hit the floor and he wobbled. But a little more spine and he was fully upright, still dressed in his grubby jeans.

The remains of his shirt lay on a chair in the corner. A few unsteady steps and he grabbed it. With his arm strapped up, it would be enough to hide his shame.

“Virg, don’t do this.”

“Could you please help me with my shirt?”

His brother sighed. “Damnit, Virgil, Grandma, Dad and Scott are all going to kill me for this.”

“Not your fault.” He fumbled with flannel and the material slipped from his fingers to fall to the floor. For the love of…!

But Gordon was there. His hands picked up the shirt and draped it across Virgil’s shoulders, helping him into the one remaining sleeve and buttoning it up to hold it in place best the ruined piece of clothing could do.

“Thanks, Gordon.”

His brother was not impressed. “You can put that on my headstone.”

“This is not on you.”

“It’s not on Scott either, but that doesn’t seem to matter.”

Virgil straightened as best he could. “I’ll fix it.”

“Virg-“

A hand on his brother’s shoulder, he tipped his head down a little for emphasis, grabbing his brother’s eyes with his own. “I’ll fix it.”

Gordon still wasn’t happy, but he put his hand over Virgil’s for just a moment. “I’m coming, too. Even if all I can do is prevent you from falling on your face. I’m dead either way, anyway.”

“This is not on you.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Virgil sighed, let his hand drop and turned towards the door.

Steps a little wonky, he went looking for the rest of his family.

To kick his own share of asses.

-o-o-o-

End Part Five

Part Six

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy

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dragon-of-dreams · 4 years

Text

Pieces

My Masterlist

Part four to Cracking a Code; Previous Part

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (fem)

Warnings: Swearing, gaslighting, stalking, aftermath of noncon, noncon touching

Summary: The next day can’t be real, can it? Or where y/n goes into work and gets hit by a strong sense of deja vu.

Word count: 2k

A/n: I’m so sorry that this a) took so long and b) has so much plot not much else, but well I promise it’ll get creepier next chapter!

~*~

The next morning you woke before your alarm clock, which was good because it gave you time for the world’s longest and most thorough shower.

And was also terrible because you woke up and it was still real.

It happened.

The intensity with which you scrubbed down your body was straight out unhealthy and you only stopped when you realized how close you were to breaking skin. He’d hurt you, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hurting yourself over him. You were hurting enough as it was.

While that mindset stayed with you, you were also shaking the entire time it took you to put on clothes and get to the office. Leaving your apartment was harder than you had ever imagined it being. For the first time in your life, you could understand those people you sometimes saw on the television, who hadn’t left their homes in years. You’d give anything for a reprive of having to live what was now your daily life. You knew it wouldn’t end and hiding in your apartment sounded oh-so-appealing, if – in your case – completely useless.

You used the short elevator ride down to your apartment lobby for some breathing exercises, put on a smile for your doorman, and in front of the double doors leading out into the Brooklyn sunshine you froze.

You knew Steve wouldn’t be there to follow you around. No, he wouldn’t stoop that low. But then again, he didn’t have to. You were terrified as his words rang in your ears: Good thing I had Buck accompanying you home. As you stared out into the busy street before you, you knew without a doubt, in your heart, that Bucky Barnes, the fucking Winter Soldier, was out there waiting for you. Watching you. Never leaving you. You were fucked. There was no running away.

“Miss? Are you alright?” You turned your head to the porter approaching you from behind his desk where he kept guard over his proverbial sheep, unknowing that you’d been torn by the wolf already.

You forced a smile: “Yes, thank you, uh, “ your eyes flew to his name tag, “George. Work has been keeping me so busy lately I’m turning into the weird professor guy from the movies!” you laughed and George chuckled but eyed you worriedly. “I’ll see you later, Miss. Please take it easy at work today. Tell Mr. Stark to cut you some slack!” You smiled and nodded at him: “Will do. See you tonight” and with that, you pushed through the doors and the pit in your stomach. Out into the bustling life of New York City.

You didn’t look behind you as you briskly walked down the street to the subway, but you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you like the fog creeping in in early October. It was an all-consuming feeling, creeping in from the sea to swallow you whole.

But you kept your head up high. You weren’t a stranger to being afraid, to being bullied. You had been the smartest student in every class you had ever taken and men didn’t appreciate being beaten by a woman. You hadn’t backed down when you were a kid, you wouldn’t bow down now, not to Captain America and most certainly not to the Winter Soldier! You knew you were putting up a façade but if you didn’t you wouldn’t have made it out of bed this morning, maybe never have left it again, but that wasn’t you.

‘Oh yes, the times are changing and those boys better get with the program’, you thought grimly as you stepped into a subway car and crossed your arms, staring at the open doors, waiting for your shadow to make an appearance.

Bucky entered through the doors to your left. You almost missed him, but now that you knew you weren’t looking for blond and beefy but brunette and murdery it was a lot harder for him to play invisible. He was good, but you were better.

But by God was he confused when you approached him. “Good morning, Mr. Barnes. I don’t know what Steve told you about me, or what your involvement in all of this is, but here is what I am telling you: Fuck off. I don’t want to see you or him again, so make sure he gets the message?”

Before Bucky could reply you moved away from him and slumped down in between two elderly ladies, the perfect shield from anyone getting close to you. Even Bucky knew not to harass a woman in front of two NYC ladies. They’d beat him to death with their shopping bags. You smirked at the mental image you had created in your mind, escaping reality even if getting away was only temporary.

Once you were sitting, the pain you had ignored so diligently came back with force. Your lower half was cramping and sore and you wanted to cry from the pain of it, but no, not while Bucky was there. Not ever again, while any man could see. ‘When had you turned to hate men for what one had to you?’ you wondered.

Bucky disappeared one stop before the tower and you were relieved that he seemingly had realized how dead-serious you were.

The second you entered the tower, you were utterly, abnormally calm and finally stopped shaking. You didn’t have a plan yet, but you knew you’d have to get away, away from this place and Steve and all the pain he’d caused you. After all, you could barely move without hurting.

You could go and teach at any university in the country. They’d love to have you. All you needed to figure out how to quit without seeming suspicious. That was going to be difficult because Tony knew you loved your job. But you couldn’t tell him the truth. No one would believe you if you told them the real reason and you had worked too hard to now be labeled as a crazy fangirl/stalker-lady. You huffed. If only they knew who the real stalker was.

You smiled at your secretary, thanked her for the coffee she had bought for you on her way to work. You squared your shoulders and open the door to your office ready to start your day.

When you entered your office you were hit with a strong sense of déjà vu, you started to shiver again and felt all color leave your face. You almost dropped your coffee.

Steve was in your office again. But luckily – blessedly even – so was Tony. What the actual fuck? You cursed in your mind but tried to smile. It didn’t work judging by Tony’s expression.

“Y/n, are you all right?” he asked while crossing the room towards you. “You don’t look too good.” Before Tony’s outstretched hand could touch you, you took half a step back. “I think I’m coming down with something. The flu, I guess,” you mumbled.

“Then why didn’t you stay home?” said a sincerely concerned voice – Steve’s. Sincerely concerned? No, it couldn’t be! Your creepy-man-radar must just be off, right?

“I… I… I promised Jarvis to teach him about the code. I forgot yesterday” you murmured turning to the super-soldier, whose brows were drawn up in concern and he was leaning forward, looking you over as if to check for injuries or signs of your alleged flu. ‘What was going on?’

“Is there anything I can do for you gentlemen?” you asked. Steve smiled at you at that. His smile was stunning. So… open and kind. And WHAT THE HELL??? No! His smile wasn’t kind! He was your rapist! Except that it was. There was no denying that. If your entire body hadn’t been hurting maybe you would’ve started talking yourself into the fantasy that yesterday hadn’t happened, but it did. But his smile was nothing like yesterday. His smile made you want to trust him.

“Well, y/n, I just wanted to congratulate you and Stevie here wanted to thank you for your speedy work. We were able to arrest 20 people yesterday because of the intel you decrypted.”

“Yeah? That’s great” you forced out and turned back to Tony, but your eyes kept straying to Steve.

“Were you working late again, Gaia?” Tony suddenly asked. Shit. Tony had been on your ass to get a life. “No, no, why?”

“Because you look, and please forgive me for being frank here, worn out and really sick. I told you to take better care of yourself. Work isn’t everything, you know?”

You were about to call Tony out on that, after all, he was famous for his work benders, but Steve never gave you the chance.

“Jarvis, when has Ms y/l/n left her office yesterday?” Once more he sounded concerned. ‘Oh, that bastard’ you thought. Steve knew - of course - that you’d lied to Tony. “At 9 p.m., Captain, 4 hours after her workday usually ends, Sir.”

You wanted to strangle the AI at that moment.

“Well Tony, if you don’t mind I will take y/n home, then. She obviously needs to rest and I need to head to Brooklyn anyways to meet with Bucky.” Steve sounded offended that you’ lied, so righteous.

“Yes you do that, champ” Tony agreed, absentmindedly, not noticing that Steve had no right knowing where you lived. “Say hi to Buckeroo for me, will ya?” Steve nodded and added “Tony, you can’t work your employees that hard. We talked about this.” His voice was imploring, and a little disgruntled. What was happening?

“Well with this one it isn’t my fault” Tony replied flippantly as he walked to the door. “Take care of yourself y/n, okay?”

“Tony, I’m fine. I’m an adult, I can decide if I am fit to work or not!” You wanted to sound assertive, but you were rather aware that you begged. Tony just smiled at you and grinned: “What the Captain says goes, young lady, trust me it’s for the best.” And with that, he’d left your office, leaving you alone with your tormentor.

You were done for. You knew it. Steve would now pounce on you and break you to pieces and… fuck. You were getting wet. Your brain knew that this was a self-defense mechanism to your body, but your heart felt ashamed. There was no denying that the sex had ended spectatcularly.

You jumped a mile when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, ripping you out of your thoughts. “y/n?” Steve’s voice was soft. “It’s time to go home, come on.”

“Don’t touch me” you replied, your voice hoarse with unshed tears.

“Don’t worry, I can’t catch the flu, you could even cough on me, doll.” Steve joked, as he took your coffee from you and placed it on your table. “Any aches, pains or other flu symptoms?” For the first time since Tony left you, you dared look into his face. He seemed so concerned that you couldn’t help yourself and nodded. “Yeah. “ You sounded defeated even in your own head. “Both.”

“It’s okay, angel. I’ll take you home and take care of you.” Steve wrapped his warm, strong arm around you and moved you out of your office. Everything started to blur together, as he called out to your secretary that you were sick and he was taking you home and he moved you into an elevator and finally maneuvered you into a car. You let him. You let yourself be manhandled. You still didn’t understand what was happening. Where was the man who had almost fucked you to pieces yesterday night? At the thought, more wetness gathered between your thighs and you blushed scarlet as Steve got into the driver’s seat next to you. If any of the rumors about his enhanced senses were true, he’d be able to smell you by now.

As Steve pulled into the crazy Manhatten traffic he said: ”Bucky told me about your little argument this morning” His voice was so soft it lulled you in even more, “and quite frankly darling, I don’t appreciate the language you used nor how unappreciative of my protection you are. I know this must all be difficult for you, but there will still have to be consequences for your behavior,” ‘he sounds like a well-meaning teacher’ you thought confused. “but for today, I think you earned yourself some aftercare for taking my cock so well yesterday.” You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Steve still sounded absolutely casual, but you froze at the slight mention.

His right hand settled on your thigh. “Breathe, darling, deep breath. It’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna take care of you from now on out.”

#fanfic #dark!Steve #Captain America #dark!Steve x reader #marvel #Cracking a code #dark!fic

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ladyonfire28 · 5 years

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My French music Masterpost

So since half of the population is in quarantine right now I thought I could make a list of some french/ french speaking artists and songs that I listen to and that you could also discover since we all have time to kill.

Obviously I cannot put every single artist and song I know and listen to so it’ll be a bit of mix of my favorite albums/ artists of the past few years but also what i’m listening at the moment !

Pop/ R&B

Angèle

She’s a 23 year old Belgian singer. Her first album was a HUGE hit last year and she got 5 news songs out in November too. She’s also been dating a woman for a few months.

I would recommend to listen to her whole album Brol , it’s quite a bop. Also there are two songs about wlw relationship called « Ta Reine » and « Tu me regardes ». That last song was a kind of coming out song btw, we were all freaking out when we listened to it the first time lmao.

Favorite songs: Les matins, Flemme, Flou, Nombreux, Ta reine, Tu me regardes, J’entends

Clara Luciani

She’s a 27 year old French artist. 2019 was truly her year. She’s has an incredible voice and I just love her energy. She’s an amazing songwriter too. Her first album is called Sainte Victoire.

Favorite songs: La grenade, Les fleurs, On ne meurt pas d’amour, Drôle d’époque, Nue, Dors, Ma Soeur, Bovary.

Christine and the Queens

I think a lot of you know her already. She’s also a queer and pansexual artist. I have to say I really LOVED her first album Chaleur Humaine, one of the best albums of the past decade, but I didn’t love as much her second album (Chris) or her new EP (La vita nuova). I mean they’re good, but her first album was really something else. And it’s also just my opinion !

Favorite songs : iT (it’s in English though), Saint Claude, Science Fiction, Half Ladies, Paradis Perdus, Chaleur Humaine, Nuit 17 à 52, Intranquilité, Amazoniaque, Jonathan, La marcheuse, L’étranger

Therapie TAXI

This is a pretty fun band, their first album has been quite popular. They’re pretty unique and sometimes their songs and lyrics are let’s say... bold lmao. I haven’t listen to all their songs though, there’s like 25 songs in their first album and 15 in their second aha. But they also have so many bops.

Favorite songs: Hit Sale, J’en ai marre, Salop(e), Avec ta zouz

Aya Nakamura

Aya is now a r&b/pop superstar here in France and even in other countries in Europe. She’s 25 and you can hear her songs in every night club and party here. Can’t say her lyrics are very elaborated but her songs are real bops and the best to dance to in your room lmao

Favorite songs: Djadja, La dot, Pompom, Copines, Pookie, Sucette, 40%, Comportement

Lous and the Yakuza

She’s a 23 year old belgian artist. She only has 3 songs out for now, but i’ve been pretty obsessed with them. Her lyrics are pretty great too (and she’s SO beautiful omg).

Favorite songs : Dilemme, Tout est gore, Solo

Yseult

Yseult is a 24 year old french singer/songwriter. She’s has a beautiful voice and the beats are also great. I haven’t listened to all her songs though, I only heard her new EP Noir which is great.

Favorite songs: Corps, Nos souvenirs, Noir, 5H

Indie/electro rock/folk :

Pomme

Pomme is very famous in the LGBTQ community in France, but i haven’t listened much to her songs (yet). She’s a 24 year old french and lesbian singer songwriter. Her songs talk about love, anxiety, and even death. She has a such beautiful voice too.

Favorite songs: On brûlera, A peu près, Anxiété, Je sais pas danser

The Dø

The Dø are a finnish/french duo and also one of my favorite band (they sing in english though). They made of of my favorite albums of the last decade, Shake Shook Shaken, which came out in 2014. Their first albums sounded more folk/indie rock, but their third album is much more electro. And the album is about the break up of the lead singer, Olivia Merilahti, and the musician, Dan Levy. One of my favorite song of all time is in their second album Both Ways Open Jaws and is called Too Insistent.

Favorite songs: On my shoulders, Too Insistent, Sparks, Despair Hangover & Ecstasy, Opposite Ways, Anita No!, Nature Will Remain.

Izia

Izia is a singer but also an actress, you may know her from La Belle Saison, Samba, or Un peuple et son roi. I listened a lot to her third album La vague, that was released in 2015. it’s much more electro that what she used to do before. Her two first albums were much more rock albums. She’s got a new album out but i haven’t listen to it yet.

Favorite songs: Hey, La vague, You, Les ennuis, Bridges, Tomber

Mansfield.YTA

The band is composed of 2 women, Julia Lanoë et Carla Pallone. Julia is in other bands/ projects such as Sexy Sushi and Kompromat. Unlike those two last bands that are very electro, Mansfield is something more nuanced. It sounds more like indie folk and mixes different style. You can hear electric instruments but also violin, harmonium, piano etc. And it’s pretty melodramatic. They sing in french and english.

Favorite songs: Et demain déja, Pour oublier je dors, Mon amoureuse, Gilbert De Clerc

Electro :

Stromae

You might have heard of that Belgian guy. His album Racine Carré (released in 2013) is too me the best of the decade and his song “Papaoutai” was a huge hit in Europe. He’s a pure genius. His lyrics are super deep and usually quite dark but he makes incredible beats that are very electro. If his second album is definitely his most popular album, his first one Cheese, was also so so great and his first single “Alors on Danse” was a huge hit (Kanye West did a remix of it). He also directed Billie Eilish’s “Hostage” music video. That dude is just incredible. But after his huge success his did a burn out and his mental health got very bad. He stopped making music since then.

Favorite songs: Peace or Violence, Alors on danse, Dodo, Je Cours, House’llelujah, papaoutai, bâtard, ave cesaria, tous les mêmes, formidable humain à l’eau, sommeil

Rap :

I have to say i’ve been listening to a lot of french rap this past couple of years so i won’t list all the rappers i listen to, especially since i’m pretty sure most of you aren’t interested in rap. But I still have to list some of them that have been very popular recently. France has a huge and very diverse rap culture.

Fauve

Actually that collective is actually not a rap band at all. They do more like spoken word songs but didn’t where also to put them lol. The band broke up 5 years but I still listen to them a lot today. It’s one of my fav band too. Their lyrics are really well written and beautiful. It usually talks about the “youth malaise” and their frustrations, heartbreaks and anger etc. They made 1 EP et 2 LP.

Favorite songs: Blizzard, Cock Music Smart Music, Nuits Fauves, Haut les Coeurs, Rub a Dub, Voyous, Infirmière, Vieux frères, Lettre à Zoé, Paraffine, Tallulah, T.R.W, Les Hautes Lumières

Meryl

Meryl is a 24 year old french martinican rapper. Before making her own music she used to write and compose melodies for other famous french rappers. She’s very influenced by her roots and and she also sings some of her songs in creole. I love how different and diverse her music is.

Favorite songs: Coucou, AH LALA, Béni, Désolé, La brume

Aloïse Sauvage

Aloïse is a multi talented french singer/ actress/ dancer. She released her first EP in 2019 called Jimy and her very first album Dévorantes was released in February 2020. She’s definitely a queer artist (99% sure she’s lesbian but she’s never confirmed it so anyway + her little sister is 100% a lesbian aha) and she talks about lgbtq issues in some of her songs, but also about her own issues and all. Her lyrics are beautifully written. And she’s also a ray of sunshine so there’s nothing to dislike about her haha.

Favorite songs: Dévorantes, Si on s’aime, A l’horizontale, Et cette tristesse, Jimy, Présentement, L’orage

Roméo Elvis

Roméo isn’t french but belgian. He’s the big brother of Angèle. I actually knew about her because of him. He’s less known than her now obviously but he’s still quite popular. His rap is pretty soft and chill. I preferred his collaborations with Le Motel (who was his producer) more than his “solo” album but he still got some good songs on his last album.

Favorite songs: Morale, Nappeux, Drôle de question, Bébé aime la drogue, J’ai vu (feat. Angèle), Lenita, Chocolat, Normal, Dis-moi

Lomepal

Lomepal is a french rapper. He’s known for writing songs that are pretty elaborated with chill and melodic beats. I also call is rap “soft”. He usually talks about his loneliness and insecurities

Favorite songs: 70, Yeux disent, Club, Trop beaux, 1000°C, X-Men, Plus de larmes

PNL

PNL is the most popular cloud rap band of the past few of years. They’re two brothers NOS and Ademo and they’re famous for using vocoder when they rap. Like a lot of vocoder lol. But they’re also very known for working with some of the best beat makers in the industry. If the way they rap is sometimes pretty hard, their beats are very chill and cool. In their songs they talk a lot of their life as dealers in the french banlieue, their struggles, how tough their lives were but also how their lives today isn’t set and how they’re not necessarily happier today. Their third album “Dans la légende” was a huuuuge hit in France, and their latest album “Deux frères” just as much if not more.

Favorite songs: Recherche du bonheur, DA, Dans la légende, Luz de Luna, Humain, Bené, Jusqu’au dernier gramme, Blanka, A l’ammoniaque, Shenmue, Menace, Déconnecté, La misère est si belle

Other songs that I listen to at the moment :

“Le temps est bon” - Bon Entendeur (electro)

“De mon âme à ton âme” - Kompromat (electro)

“Reste” - Maitre Gims feat Sting (pop)

“Les méchants” - Heuss l’enfoiré (rap)

“C’est plus l’heure” - Franglish feat Dadju, Vegeta (r&b)

“De l’autre côté”- Ninho feat Nekfeu (rap)

“Blanche” - Maes (rap)

“La complainte du soleil” - Laura Cahen (from I Lost My Body OST)

Some french speaking “classic” songs that I listen to and that you probably don’t know (from the 50′s to 00′s) :

“Une valse à mille temps” - Jacques Brel

“La foule” - Edith Piaf

“Chanson pour l’auvergnat” - Georges Brassens

“Je t’aimais, je t’aime et je t’aimerai” - Francis Cabrel

“Ma préférence” - Julien Clerc

“La nuit je mens” - Alain Bashung

“Foule sentimentale” - Alain Souchon

“Mistral gagnant” - Renaud

“Sensualité” - Axelle Red

“Manhattan Kaboul” - Renaud feat. Axelle Red

“Onde sensuelle” - M

“Et dans 150 ans” - Raphaël

“A la faveur de l’automne” - Tété

“L’aventurier” - Indochine

French LGBTQ+ artists

This past few years a few lgbtq artists have blown up here and like 4 lesbian artists have been nominated for best new artist this year at the french grammy award called Victoire de la musique (and one of them one the award, Pomme). Unfortunately i’m not very good at discovering new artists so i’m quite late and i haven’t been able to listen to a lot of them. But if you want to discover them yourself here are few lgbtq artists:

Already mentioned: Angèle, Pomme, Julia Lanoë/ Rebekka Warrior (Sexy Sushi, Kompromat, Mansfield.YTA), Christine and the Queens, Aloïse Sauvage

More : Hoshi, Suzane, Eddy de Pretto, Safia Nolin (she’s from Quebec)

#this is a big ass post i'm so sorry omg #but you should have enough artists to discover for the next 45 days lmao #be aware : some songs on here are very bad lmao #but i love listening to bad music sometimes #aimee listens to music #up the baguette #french music #music #music masterpost

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