#I like the colors I figured out in the second pixel go at her! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pygmi-cygni · 2 months

Text

Mi Luz - Miguel x reader fluff fic

Content warnings - diabetes-inducing fluff, no smut, kissing, emotional constipation

Summary: Miguel has been struggling with stress, and a soft little somebody can't seem to leave his head. Pining, crush, cute cute cute big man

slow burn for two seconds cause I have no self control

Reader is afab, no y/n, described with having large eyes but that's it

love you sweet thing, enjoy ☆

songs:

Saphir - pomme

Kayla - steven sanchez

Easy on my eyes - stephen sanchez

hugging you - Tom Rosenhal

Don't you worry - Oh Wonder

☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆

It was hard to be the king of everything. That's somewhat what he thought of himself, sitting at the top of his tall but lonely throne, scrutinizing his subjects. Miguel didn't choose this life, it chose him. So the bitterness that came with the weight of the world sat thick in his mouth, twisting his lips into a snarl and his brow into a scowl. No surprise that the Spiders around him didn't meet his eye unless to cower in fear.

It didn't bother him. He liked being alone, enjoyed the quiet of his lair - except when his pesky assistant ruined his brooding with her obnoxiously loud voice-

"aw Migs, I thought we were besties..." her pixelated pout hung in front of his eyes.

never shoulda taken you out of the drafts, he muttered, but there was no venom behind the words.

Miguel wasn't a recluse, he was just...busy. Too busy to chat, to 'hang out,' as his younger employees begged. He had shit to do, people to save. Friendship didn't fit in his schedule. So he stalked through the halls as little as possible, shouldering past cliques and couples holding hands. He didn't need that shit, their glowing auras of joy making his sensitive eyes burn.

Okay, so maybe it bothered him a little bit. Not a lot. Just a smidge. An itsy bitsy amount, if you'll pardon the pun. Hardly worthwhile. Nothing to write home about. Just something that churned in the back of his mind every waking moment of his day came up once in a while.

The irony didn't escape him, how aura sensitivity seemed to be bestowed on the least sensitive man out there. The radiating emotion and color bouncing off of everyone that passed gave him a headache. Miguel had no spidey sense to speak of, no superhuman reflexes, but the minute someone's mood changed, his ears were pricking. Not that he cared.

He didn't care that his chest ached when the sour green of fear laced the aura of his visitors. It was like a switch; he'd walk into the room, and the once shining gold and pastel hues would darken to a nervous blue, thrumming with panic. Some could pass it off, putting on a brave smile for him, but he could see. Miguel could see every shift in hue that betrayed just how little HQ liked him.

But it didn't bother him. He was king of the world.

☆ ☆ ☆

Miguel's fangs dug into his lower gums as he ground his teeth through the debrief. It had been a shitshow, a group of rookies too unfamiliar with the terrain to do anything other than Fuck It Up had failed. Four of them, Spider-girl 2045, Huntsman, and the twins, Recluse and Widow. All young and stupid.

Currently, all four were talking over each other, halos flashing like disco balls as they bickered over who had the right story.

"I friggin told you, Wid, that's not the right street, it was definitely 45th-"

"Oh, suck my webshooter, that wasn't even the right universe-"

"Would somebody please figure it the fuck out before I send you all back to the void!"

A meek silence followed his rage. Miguel was heaving, red eyes glaring down at the comedy of errors beneath him. The kids stared at him with wide, fearful eyes. Shame and embarrassment swirled around them in a sludgy grey haze.

Shit. He did it again, he was trying to be better but they were so fucking annoying and it was loud and his head hurt-

"Go home," he seethed quietly, "figure it out, and come back when your heads are out of your asses."

Not waiting for another scathing word, the Spiders scattered.

With a bone rattling sigh, Miguel collapsed onto his desk frustratedly. Why was he like this? His temper was so blasted short, no matter how hard he tried to reign it in. Peter had a toddler for chrissakes and hardly ever raised his voice.

LYLA hovered over his shoulder, a knowing look on her face. He nudged his face further into his desk, ignoring her.

"Go 'way," he muttered, teeth scraping the plasticene surface. As always, she ignored him.

"You need help, Miguel. I mean it, hey don't-" her voice went stern as he reached to disable her.

"I don't wanna hear this again," he growled, fumbling for the controls.

"Well, I'm sure these kids don't wanna be screamed at again either, and your feelings are not more important than theirs."

His carmine eyes simmered with rage as he halted. She was right, of course she was right but god why did it hurt-

Shame licked his ribs and he ducked his chin.

LYLA took the opportunity.

"With the new universes we just discovered, there'll be a whole batch of new recruits. Is this really how you wanna run this? Christ, Migs, it's almost better to be independent than deal with you." at his huff, she crossed her arms. Prancing to the front of his chair, she tapped his nose.

"You can fix it, if you really want to. But who cares if they're saving the world when the world they live in has people like you?"

She blinked out of existence, as a shameful blush reddened his cheeks.

Fuck.

☆ ☆ ☆

Twenty new spiders would be arriving today at noon on the dot. Miguel could already feel the migraine coming on as he discussed logistics with Jess and Peter. Training, tours, watches, all the work was piling in his mind.

"Miguel?"

Jess' sharp tone brought him out of his reverie. She looked expectant, a stack of files outstretched. "Did you hear what I just said?"

His blank stare triggered an eye roll. "These Spiders need Multiverse tracking, so you'll take them to the Center at 2:30, yeah?"

Miguel acquiesced gruffly and snatched the files, Meeting adjourned, he waited for his office to be clear again.

Peter hung back, aura churning with conflict.

Oh boy, here we go.

"Hey big guy....up for a chat?" Peter's eyes were bright but wary, and Miguel shot him a weary look.

"I don't have time to chat, Parker, we've been over this," he bit out.

"It's important."

"I don't care, write me an email-"

"Huntsman is AWOL."

Miguel blinked, fiery words fizzling on his tongue. Impossible. He'd just seen him an hour ago, how could that be? Sighing impatiently, he began searching for the small boy on his wall of screens.

"Miguel."

"What."

"You scared him pretty bad, dude. I know you don't like to here this, and I'll try to keep the hippy-dippy to a minimum, but dude." Miguel struggled to make eye contact, hating the rare sincerity of Peter's tone.

"I mean..." Peter faltered, gesturing to the door. "Voidspace is no joke. Especially some of those kids, where they've come from...you gotta fix your stuff. That's not cool. Jess and I have been-"

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

"Don't look at me like that."

Miguel seethed out his nose, hands clenching and unclenching around his tablet. god, if only other people saw feelings the way he did, maybe they'd leave him alone.

"I," he spat, "am aware that my temper is...volatile. But-"

"No buts," Jess said from behind him. He whirled, suddenly feeling caged in. "How you talked to the recruits today was unacceptable. Don't act like you're above consequence," She said in response to his growl. "That behavior is appalling. We can find someone else to do this, you know."

His anger dissipated. She wouldn't.

"You wouldn't."

"If it meant helping the success of the next generation, I would."

Miguel, for once in a long time, felt the sting of tears in his throat. Sensing the shift, Peter gave him an awkward shoulder pat and retreated.

"We care about you man," he said gently, "but you gotta work this out."

With that, the door slammed shut, and Miguel was alone.

Again.

☆ ☆ ☆

He thumbed the corner of his sweatshirt, damp from his workout. Peter's conversation rattled around his brain. He didn't think he'd been that harsh. He never meant-

He never meant to hurt anyone.

But it was inevitable, wasn't it? No matter how hard he tried, someone always got hurt. His tongue was too sharp, his claws too fast.

Her form, small, clutched in his arms, deteriorating into pixels as she sobbed-

No.

He wasn't doing this again. Miguel stared at himself until he was sure the mirror would crack. They deserved better. He deserved better. It was cowardly, the way he hid from emotion.

Was that what it was?

Was he afraid? Afraid to reach out for it to snap back in his face? It seemed so childish, like there should be something more than the fear of other people keeping him at bay. Gabi was gone. There was no changing that. He knew that in his head, but his heart?

The roiling stew of his emotions made his chest tight. He couldn't do this, not right now.

Maybe tomorrow.

☆ ☆ ☆

It was late. Or early, depending on how you looked at it. Miguel was steadily working, a slight burn in his red-rimmed eyes the only indication that he was tired. Adrenaline buzzed through his veins, keeping his back rigid and muscles taut.

Another anomaly, another fight, another file. click-click-click went his keyboard, rhythmic in the the empty office.

Almost empty, that is.

Out of the corner of his eye, a soft shine radiated from the doorway. Biting back a sigh, he leveled his tired glare with the figure, mentally preparing himself for one of Peter's scoldings. But as the figure drew closer, he realized he didn't recognize the shimmery white aura or the person attached to it.

"Miguel O'Hara?"

A soft, lilting voice carried from the base of his tower. Miguel blinked, not recognizing the voice either.

"Yes?" He responded gruffly, wracking his brain for who the fuck could be visiting him at this time of night -

"Um...Can...Can you roll down? O-or something? I'm sorry, I just can't really see..." the sweet voice faltered and he rolled his eyes.

Maybe, if they'd waited till a reasonable hour to visit him, his chair would be in a more reasonable position. But nooo.....Regardless, he began the slow descent from his perch. As he grew closer to the ground, the pearlescent light grew more in focus. Miguel came to the conclusion that he definitely did not know you.

Your expression was patient and soft, standing with your hands folded and dressed in a comfortable sweater. You must be new; most seasoned Spiders wore suits out of convenience. A file was grasped loosely in front of you.

"I'm supposed to be working in the office next door, and it seems I wasn't given a keycard?" Your owlish gaze turned hopeful, and he was taken aback by your gentle gaze.

Miguel had never seen someone with such large eyes. Round and long-lashed, they exuded warmth and an innocence that reminded him of her

No.

Stop it.

"Uh, yeah, hang on a second," He fumbled for his watch and pushed past you, not waiting for you to follow. His mind was reeling, trying to recall if he was supposed to know who you were. Jess had mentioned an assistant, but he figured it would be someone less....soft. More experienced, that is. Besides, he didn't trust you. No way was he just shoving the fate of the universe in your hands, even though your eyes were nice and you didn't cower when he spoke-

Stop. It.

He exhaled loudly, trying to expel the thoughts with it. You stood next to him, ever patient. Your halo, he found, was still that shimmering white. It was a soft light, not glaring and oppressive like the colors of his teammates. It soothed his headache rather than aggravated it.

Realizing he was staring dumbly at the locked door, he sighed again and slid the keycard across the pad.

Error.

Miguel blinked. He had the master card, it applied to every door, what the hell? Trying again, he felt impatience coiling in his chest. What....

Peter. Peter had borrowed his card to let Mayday out of a lab she'd snuck into. He promised he'd return it by today, but knowing him....Today was not the day.

"I can't fucking believe this," Miguel muttered venomously, "he takes the most valuable piece of tech I have and fucking forgets to return it, that irresponsible piece of...shouldn't even be a father, gotta be kidding-"

"Miguel?"

He froze, having forgotten you were there. Shame tinged his cheeks. He'd done it again, fuck, he wasn't trying-

"If it's too much trouble, I can just get my card tomorrow." Your voice was calm and soothing.

He gawked.

You were still glowing with a soft white light, tinged only now by a slight pink hue. Sympathy. No fear, no ugly red anger or terror at his temper. your eyes. you looked him in the eye. you smiled at him. you wanted to help-

His throat, too closed up with confusion and pity and ugh that he merely grunted and ducked back into his office, leaving your soft gaze behind.

☆ ☆ ☆

God, it drove him crazy. Your patience. Your light. He could feel you from yards away, your little glow that was always warm, always kind. Your card arrived safely, and there wasn't another mishap between you two. Dove, you'd been nicknamed, for the way you flitted between jobs like a small bird.

Every day, you'd pitter-patter into his office on soft feet and explain the schedule to him, then go through the mission briefs with a gentle tone that didn't falter, even if he grouched about the conferences overriding his lunch break.

He didn't think he'd need an assistant. He could do it himself, had been forever. But you...helped. Your organization was impeccable, finding reason and structure where his brain only saw chaos. Miguel was terrible with time management, but you'd give him a gentle reminder that it was time for a break, or that the work was done and his brooding could be saved for tomorrow.

Go home, Miguel, you whispered kindly, tucking a bag of dessert into his large palms. I'll see you tomorrow.

Well, he'd see you sooner. He liked to think about you. It didn't feel like daydreaming, because you worked together and therefore thinking about you was thinking about work, technically. It puzzled him, how your patience never wavered. You'd heard the stories, comforted victims of his wrath. But your light only burned brighter with him, never dampened in contempt.

He noticed it first, at a work party. Miguel hated these functions, found them boring and tedious. Chatting about mundane things while nursing cheap wine and a migraine? He'd pass.

Except, when you arrived. Dressed in a soft purple sweater and a long skirt god he loved your sweaters, how warm and docile your eyes hidden shyly beneath your hair. He itched to walk over, but nerves rooted him to the spot. You were tucked against a wall, clearly uncomfortable, and as your gaze scanned the busy room...

you landed on him. and,

you glowed. radiantly, your nervous blue haze shimmered with a soft golden happiness, and you waved with a smile. Miguel swallowed thickly.

You were happy to see him. He, who never gave you more than two word sentences, who snapped and bickered and bit like a hissing cat, made your halo glow so bright it warmed his cheeks.

Nobody had ever felt that way about him. And it was so fucking stupid, the giddiness that made him dizzy. Decency was all it was. You were just being nice. And here he was, a blushing melting mess because you were happy to see him.

He looked forward to you even more after that. Slowly, he tried his best to bite his tongue, to keep the irritation from spewing. Instead, he tried fanning the flames with small talk, stumbling through conversation like a lovesick teenager. He could tell you were surprised, but you welcomed the change. You would sit at the edge of his desk and talk about random occurrences, silly mundane things that still made his cheeks ache from smiling. How the slowly brightening halo of light around you made him adore you more, even if you had to sheepishly apologize when it got too bright.

don't be sorry, mi luz, he wanted to whisper, i love to see you shine.

Then, inevitably, you would pad back to your office and your light would be gone. Miguel would pout at the loss, missing the gentle glow that made his chest ache.

So he decided to do something about it.

You were revising a plan against the latest anomaly, in sector AB-7. His tablet was clutched to you, and you were curled against his chair. The warmth emanating from your aura made him melt with adoration, eyes growing heavy-

"Migs?"

He hummed, still gazing. you'd picked up the nickname from his AI, and he wanted to curl up in your lap every time you said it.

"You look tired, I'll let you rest." You placed the tablet back on his desk and patted his shoulder god do it again please before turning-

"No?"

He murmured it, not quite pleading. You stopped, tilting your head in confusion. "you...can stay. There's room down there, if you still wanna work."

You didn't say anything, and he felt the words rush out. "It just- it just seems strange that you'd be working in a different office when you spend so much time here anyway, but don't worry about it, it's fine-"

"Migs," you said, so gentle it made his toes curl. "I'd love that."

And hence began the worst mistake of his productive career. Because now, you'd made a home in the corner of his space, and your softness was always there, so inviting for him to gaze at. He'd lost hours of working just staring.

He learned about you, learned what made you tick. How you weren't cleared to fight, which is why you could afford do dress so comfortable. Fine by him, he'd blow a fuse if something happened to you. As long as he could keep you tucked in his little haven, safe for him to admire, he didn't give a fuck.

Jess would raise her eyebrows at your constant presence, but his heart rate was lower and he smiled, she'd never been more terrified and shocked.

he was doing better.

Miguel soon found himself focusing all of his spare attention on you. Buying you sweaters, letting you watch your favorites movies on his widescreen, doing anything to make your light glow a little brighter.

This was....different. he hadn't had this, not for a long while. it made him nervous, a little undercurrent of shyness beneath his desire to make you smile. You were never as forward with him, kind as ever but at a distance. He would take what he could get, though. As long as your light kept shining, he'd bask in its warmth.

☆ ☆ ☆

God, what a meeting. He'd zoned out halfway through, so astronomically exhausted that he could barely keep his eyes open. His thoughts were consumed with the idea of taking a nap on the old sofa you'd shoved into his office. you'd be right next to him, reading and playing with his hair, oh god if only the clock would move faster- Miguel almost lept out of his chair when the meeting concluded.

His feet quickened back towards his office, feeling your light trickle under the door. close close there she is almost-

Oh. uh oh. uh oh uh oh.

He stood frozen, staring at his desk. You had made yourself comfortable in his chair, napping with your chin tucked and hair mussed and he felt his chest grow tight god what is happening to him good christ-

Miguel swallowed roughly and peered down at your closed eyes. Your aura was a soft pink, content and sweet. He wanted to hold you so badly. God, that's what he'd been needing. tuck you up in one of your devilishly soft sweaters and keep his little light all to himself.

It wasn't lust, his desire for touch. that felt carnal, too vile for you. He would never defile you like that, wanting only to watch you shimmer and preen with happiness. Little light, mi luz, so soft...

His eyes were shining with adoration as he looked at you. He didn't know how long it had been, and he didn't care. But after a moment, he realized sleeping on his straight-backed chair would hurt your back. he needed to move you. hold you on his lap, he was softer and warmer and god help him-

Taking a breath, Miguel slid his forearms under your curled form and lifted slowly, careful not to jostle you. Whatever love demon was inside keened with joy, and he wanted to weep. As he gently maneuvered you towards your comfortable armchair, he caught a shift in your body. Freezing again, he waited for you to finish squirming, finally settling with your head tucked in his neck.

And oh, mi luz

You were glowing warmer now, the faint blush shimmering gold against your hair. Miguel's lips quivered and he began to rock gently. His hands shook with care. He could feel the tranquility rolling off of you in heavy waves, making his eyes heavy and his heart full. You felt safe with him. Soft snuffling breaths against his collar and hands clutched loosely at his nape.

He was going to die. His chest burned with the need to shout, to scream with excitement. Finally finally, little soft light, all his to hold-

Miguel might have been squeezing too tight in his joy, because your brow pinched and you mewled in discomfort. He immediately hushed you, coaxing you back into golden sleep, stroking your cheek and brushing his lips over your cheek.

"Sleep, mi luz, I have you. I have you," he cooed, nudging his nose into your jaw. You sighed contentedly and murmured a good night as he gently laid with you in the armchair. He buried his face in your hair, shivering with the warmth that enveloped him.

☆ ☆ ☆

Wherever this was, he never wanted to leave. Miguel felt syrupy and languid, wrapped in a cocoon of something that felt divinely warm and safe and

"M..Migs?"

a rustle, and the lovely bundle in his arms blinked blearily at him. his locestruck eyes shone down at his little love, and he smiled gently.

"Hi, dovey," he murmured, rubbing your back, "sleep well?"

You nodded sleepily and scooted up, seated fully against his chest. your aura pulsed sluggishly, as is overrun with emotion. Miguel was too busy sweetly nosing your cheek to notice the hues dancing around your head. still half-asleep, you purred happily, dozing gently against his warm neck. Miguel kept up, suckling gently behind your ear and across your lips and everywhere he could reach without waking you. He could do this for hours.

the warmth was beginning to singe his hair though, and he hissed gently

"mi luz," he whispered lovingly, "dovey, bebita, my love," trying as gently as possible to rouse you. You whined at the wake up, doe eyes drowsy and unfocused.

"your halo, mi sol," he whispered, pecking your cheek, "getting a little warm is all." you blushed, quickly dampening the shining haze of love you had blanketed over the both of you. Miguel grunted and laid his head back again. You followed suit, curling against him as close as possible.

'love you,' your lips murmured into his skin.

'mi luz,' he said reverently, and his soft mouth soothed you back to sleep.

☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆☆ ☆ ☆

that's all folks! might do some lil drabbles off of this but idk yet. hope you enjoyed, requests are open, ilysm xox

#miguel o'hara #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #sweet girl #miguel x reader #miguel is a simp #crush #no smut #cuddles #cozy #grumpy x sunshine #happy ending #maybe part 2?#drabble #x reader #sweet miguel #fanfic

34 notes · View notes

canarysage · 2 months

Text

…color correct an image in photopea?

so, you’ve finally finished a psd. it’s everything you imagined and more. you go to apply it to your image and get…

…well, that. what the fuck, you may be thinking, this looked fine on my tester images! and it probably did! the problem with this image is that it’s just. overbearingly purple.

which may be fine for the image itself, but it doesn’t work for editing purposes. you end up with weird bits (why’s her hair blue? why’s the contrast so low?? what the fuck is happening) and an image that frankly hurts to look at. so, the question remains. how do you turn that into—

—something more like this? well, don’t worry, because i’m canarysage and i make things more confusing instead of less, and i’m here to save your eyes and psds

i. white balancing

if you keep up with photopea for dummies, you probably recognize this term from my post curves for dummies. i’ll go ahead and re-explain it, though.

white balancing is done using either a curves or levels layer—it doesn’t matter which, they both do the same function. i use levels because i don’t have to scroll to reach the eyedroppers on mobile LMFAO but they both do the exact same thing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

add a levels/curves layer below your psd folder and turn the psd off. look at your image and determine what you think are the darkest and lightest parts—or, if it’s easier, what parts you want to convert to #000000 black and #ffffff white. once you’ve figured that out, go into your levels layer.

see those three squares at the bottom? that’s the important part. first thing i’m going to do is tap that black square. the black square turns whatever color you pick into #00000 black, so i’m going to use the eyedropper it pulls up and select a darker part of my image

for this picture, i selected ena’s pupil, because it’s rather grayish in the original. this will help add some contrast. (also i zoomed in really far because i have shaky hands and wanted to make sure i was “aiming” correctly. you don’t have to do that i’m just insane)

repeat this process with the white square. the white square turns whatever color you pick into #ffffff white, so pick a lighter part of your image. also, for the sake of my sanity, do not choose a skintone when doing that. for the love of god

mega zoom to the rescue again. i picked the whites of her eyes because those look really weird if they’re not white, frankly. other good choices are highlighted areas on objects or things that are already white (like the paper in her sketchpad)

now we’re going to do the gray square. this is the part which is trickiest, so don’t be annoyed if it takes a few tries. choose the color in your image that you want converted to gray—in other colors, figure out which color is most overpowering and select that. i recommend not picking a saturated color for this, because it’ll look—

—really bad. ow, green. i recommend picking a color that’s reasonably close to gray already, but it depends on how much correcting your image actually needs. you just have to eyeball it.

pixels. for this image, i chose the decals on this picture frame in the background; they’re reasonably close to gray but still purple enough to do the correcting i want.

after white balancing, your image should look significantly better already. here’s mine at this stage:

it’s a little strange, but that’s going to be covered by our psd anyway, so don’t worry about it. if your picture still looks really off, you can add a second levels/curves layer and white balance again, and you can just repeat that until it looks how you like it. i’m pretty happy with this, though, so we’re moving on.

ii. photo filter

(photopea refreshed on me so i had to recreate my white balancing, forgive me if it looks inconsistent. let this be a lesson on saving your wips as psds)

okay, step two! this one is way easier, don’t worry. add a photo filter layer above your white balancing layer and below your psd. fair warning, this step requires bare minimum knowledge of color theory—as in, what colors are opposite each other on the color wheel. godspeed

look at your image and figure out what looks off about it. feel free to toggle your psd on and off as you do this, it’ll help. in my case, mine ended up too warm and too saturated. so, to fix this, i’m adding a very low saturation green photo filter

which, obviously, made it… green:

to fix that, we’re just lowering the percentage of the photo filter here. how much you lower it depends on your image and your personal preference, but, for reference, i set mine to about 30%. if you want to, you can mess with blending modes and opacity in this step, but i just left it as is

yay, less green ^_^ like with the white balancing, you can add as many photo filters as you want. i’m real lazy so i’m just doing one, but you can just keep stacking them until your image looks right—sky’s the limit. for me, i’m going to step three:

iii. brightness/contrast

pretty self explanatory. brightness/contrast isn’t a color corrector; it’s a lighting corrector. it adds brightness and contrast, obviously. look at your image again with and without the psd, and figure out what it needs. the psd i’m using for this is pretty dark, so i’m adding brightness and lowering the contrast:

like so. this step can also be accomplished with curves, levels, or exposure, but brightness/contrast is the simplest and least finicky of those options, so i personally prefer it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

pretty minimal change, but i wanted to demonstrate this step anyway, as it can be pretty important on some images. with that done, time for the last step:

iv. selective color

like all the previous steps, this goes under your psd and above the other layers we’ve added. what exactly you do with selective color once again depends on your image and psd, but what i did was darken my blacks and whites,

very minimally adjust the neutrals,

remove magenta from magenta and add magenta to green,

and remove cyan from my reds and yellows.

which, all in all, gives me this:

which, if you’ll recall, is a far cry from our original image. now, if you turn the psd back on, you’ll get this:

which i consider a marked improvement from what we originally had. these steps can be mimicked on pretty much any image as long you tweak it enough. obviously you’ll have to finagle and adjust depending on your image, but it’s actually pretty easy! observe:

…so that’s how you do it.

#canarysage‚ how do you…?#ʚɞ — tips.

24 notes · View notes

quibbs126 · 1 year

Text

Heck I don’t actually remember if Pure Vanilla/Dark Cacao was a request or if it was something I just planned to do on my own. I know it started out as my own idea, but sometimes that happens and then before I get to doing it, someone requests it and I just make it a request, and I don’t remember if that happened here

But regardless, this was a drawing I made of the idea for a purecacao fankid on it’s own, and I’m posting it as such

Now you’ll notice that this isn’t my usual format. This is because this isn’t her official design, it’s just that last night, I had this idea for a design of her as a young child with Dark Cacaoian clothing, and so I just wanted to make a quick doodle to show you

It was just going to be that picture in the middle, as it’s more sketchy and rough, and clearly not how I usually do these fankid requests. However when I finished, I realized that I made her too small. See, if I may explain some things, for my poorly drawn comics and other things that use that particular brush (it’s the Narinder Pencil if you want to know), and I don’t like enlarging pictures drawn with it because the lines get all blurry and it loses its texture. Prior to the Charcoal Cheese comic, for my poorly drawn comics I tended to enlarge the sketch to fit the screen, and then I’d completely redraw the lines. But here, I had already colored the whole thing, plus it was multiple layers to redraw, so I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t just crop down the canvas to fit it because my square canvases are already 500x500 pixels, they’re very small (and also I think the small size might account for why they may not show up in the best quality, but I’ve been using this size for over 2 years and I’m set with it, and I feel like changing would be too much effort). And I feel like making it even smaller would just tank the quality even more

Though to be honest, I’m glad I made a second version with my proper sketching process, as I was better able to figure out her colors and design

Speaking of her design, yeah this is sort of what I’m thinking for her look, at least in terms of hair, dough and eye color. She’s not gonna keep the braid though, that’s just a kid thing

I feel like maybe I should give her streaks, but I’m not sure where to put them or what color

Also I realize that I forgot to put KitKats on her design. I wasn’t planning to originally since this is a little kid’s outfit, but also in some of the artbook drawings, young Dark Choco had small Oreo shoulderpads, so maybe she should have something similar. I had an idea for her wearing tiny KitKat shoulderpads, but I forgot them. Ah well

Hmm, does she look like a purecacao kid? I’m looking at her and I feel like she looks more like her own character than related to them. Maybe it’s the lack of streaks

Oh yeah, and one more thing I want to add, I’ve decided she’s a post-canon kid, as in Pure Vanilla and Dark Cacao got together after the events of the Dark Flour War and canon in general. The story in my head goes that Dark Cacao developed feelings for Pure Vanilla, but was hesitant to tell him about it, maybe because he’s socially awkward and wasn’t sure how to, maybe because Pure Vanilla and White Lily had something going on and he didn’t want to stir up drama between them. But regardless, Dark Cacao felt that it wasn’t so much of a big deal since they were immortal, he could tell him when he felt it was right. But then the Dark Flour War happened and Pure Vanilla seemingly died, with Dark Cacao never telling him how he felt. But then years later, Pure Vanilla came back, and while Dark Cacao was of course overjoyed, it also caused him to realize that even being immortal, they don’t have all the time in the world, and he needed to tell Pure Vanilla how he felt, and so during the events of Odyssey, he confessed to Pure Vanilla, and then likely sometime after Dark Enchantress’s defeat, they got together, and later had this girl

Also this means she has a (probably) 30+ year older brother in Dark Choco, but it’s all good

I feel bad just keeping her unnamed, but I don’t know what to call her. *sigh*

Any suggestions?

But yeah, I just wanted to show y’all this idea. Don’t know when I’ll be finishing her, but I’ll draw her officially at some point

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #purecacao #pure vanilla cookie #dark cacao cookie #cookie run oc #fankid #fanchild #my art #my ocs

33 notes · View notes

willkimurashat · 2 years

Text

Exactly 0 people asked, but here I am anyway with a rating of Love Island The Game: Ex in the Villa lol!

As you’ve probably noticed, I played each volume as it came out, did not read the spoilers. I always loved litg for giving me escapism from reality I so much craved because it was a fun, problem-free game, where I was the center of attention in a good way, and pixels loved me unconditionally. That is until s5 rolled up. I was really excited about it, even though still not over s4 because they released it so close to each other, but nonetheless wanted to give it a fair go. I was very open to the story and the characters, but about half way through, I just could not defend them anymore. It wasn’t a good time anymore, it was a “how will fusebox piss me off today” time. Anyways, maybe this whole collective trauma of s5 is still very fresh in my mind, and I won’t think it’s so bad as time goes on, but here’s my thoughts on it now.

Disclaimer: All of these are obviously just my subjective, humble opinion - feel free to agree or disagree or add your own:) and if you’d like to use these categories for your own ratings - please, by all means!

Also, potential spoilers ahead:)

So. Let’s break it down into some categories…

Character design: 7/10

This is just my personal taste I guess, but they really went off with Suresh and Gabi. Meera and Johnny made me swoon too. The rest look aight, but I think slight tweaks like aligning Finn’s jaw or Kat’s eyes or making her hair less high up, stuff like that - it would really help. Also, never forget the atrocious outfits (I mean, rubber duckies? Really? The stupid hat? The abominable sandals?? Ugh…)

Character personality: 7/10

I’m probably being too generous, but I do feel like everyone had a distinct personality and a “role” in the villa. Now, where they annoying most of the time? Yes. Were they mean to MC? Also yes, but that’s a completely different point. Did we really get to know anyone or was it mostly just conversations about how Suresh would feel if MC went for someone else and vice versa? I’ll let you answer that one… Disclaimer: MC not included here, she’s an outlier and would skew the score too much.

Character diversity: 4/10

We got some range of characters, but where they done well? Starting with not specifying ethnicities of every single mixed race islander on their applications, perpetuating stereotypes about characters of color and abuse, making them toxic, continuing to make woc villains of the story… LGBT characters being all over the place and, again, villains/unlikeable… Yeah, do better fusebox.

MC design: 6.5/10

My first impression when I saw mc was… not the greatest. My second impression when I played the game - better, but not great. I think my main issue is some expressions, which are just not.. it… I appreciate that they made a curvier body type option, but the face just looks a bit off anyway? Like, don’t get me wrong, there’s definitely potential and so many people were able to make them look hot, but my mc? Idk, can’t help but think that something’s off with her every time I look at her:/ (I figured out who my mc reminds me of btw!)

MC personality: 1/10

It really is a 0, but again, I’m being generous. 16 volumes, 42 episodes and we know absolutely nothing about them. What do they like? Who’s their type? What’s their passion in life? What makes them, well, them? Who is mc? A hologram. A cardboard cut out that only has three preprogrammed comments: yes/no/i don’t know.

MC customization: 5/10

I think overall, the customization was alright and I was pretty much able to make mc look like me, but that being said, I’m a white girl, so I’m privileged enough to not have to run into problems like having ethnic hair gem blocked… And again, I like the curvy body type option, (though it’s still kinda limited), but we still can’t have a choice of feminine/masculine presenting bodies, which I don’t think is too much to ask for (they do it on Lovelink for example). And the outfits… granny fashion and shattered glass bikini? Please just.. let’s just move on.

Challenges: 5/10

The idea for challenges was quite good. Who doesn’t love an obstacle challenge, a snog, marry, pie, a heart racing challenge, or kiss the islander with ___ secret? I know I do! No, we didn’t get the baby challenge or the mean tweets, but it was still a good selection of challenges. However, they were written so… dryly? (Is that a word? It feels like it’s not, but it is now lol.) Anyway, just like the rest of the season, it’s three lines of dry textbook text that just didn’t excite me in the slightest. I read textbooks for grad school every day, I want creative writing in a romance game pretty please! I didn’t feel like I was actually there, doing the challenge. I didn’t care if I won the challenge either because there were no prizes for them anyway and no one-on-one time with our li’s, so… Good idea, poor execution:/

Drama: 3/10

E X C E S S I V E and U N C A L L E D F O R. Of course, it made sense that in a season about Exes in the Villa the main drama will be about Exes in the Villa. I get it, trust me. But you would hope that the drama will get resolved, which in my opinion, it wasn’t. Or it didn’t feel like a satisfying resolution to me personally. It kept going in circles, “hear me out!” “I’m done apologizing!” “Maybe we are different people” “I’m gonna win you back” “How do you think Suresh would feel if…?” “How do you feel now that Suresh is with…?” And the ending was that he wanted to propose to you too, but because of miscommunication it didn’t happen, making this whole drama actually pointless. And that’s only Suresh drama, which if you’re not on his route is tiring, repetitive, and… boring?

Moving on, I wrote a lot of rants about Alfie drama, so I won’t go into it, you all know how I feel. Arlo was feisty with mc for no reason, especially if you constantly reject Suresh’s advances. Drastically changing Meera’s character to an insufferable bitch was unnecessary. Same with Johnny/Nicolas - there was no indication that they are terrible people during casa amor, and the evil master plans came out of nowhere, and only served to further hurt mc. Eddie as a villain was enough for me tbh, we didn’t need the whole villa ganging up on mc. Plus, we shouldn’t be the only ones with drama, I would like to have some fun time at least, thank you very much. Overall, I’m not saying this should be Friend Island - I’ve seen the show, I know how it goes and I know some drama can be absolutely ridiculous, but I just think it wasn’t balanced out at all. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t proportional. (Maybe I’m alone in thinking this, but I think s4 had a good balance of drama/friendships/romance, so it was still there, but it wasn’t overbearing.)

Relationships: 3.5/10

The only points here are for Lulu, honestly. And Gabi, but I might be biased lol. Okay, maybe also Alfie-Finn bromance, I’m a sucker for those. Friendship-wise, the whole season I felt alone and felt like I couldn’t trust anyone. Kat was going back and forth between being my friend and being my rival. Arlo had issues with me… why exactly? I’m honestly not sure… Dana was… just there? Her friendship entailed pulling me for a chat any time I wanted to have a conversation with my li and gossiping or asking for reassurance. Meera was nothing, but an insecure bitch to me. Eddie wanted nothing to do with me, until the very end we’re apparently all buddy-buddy and he’s spilling secrets to me. Don’t forget the blackmailing too. Finn was nice only in one (1) occasion, and that is during Snog, Marry, Pie. Alfie may have been a good friend, but I didn’t do that route with him. Lulu was the only one consistently kind and on mc’s side. Gabi was an interesting addition, it’s a shame we didn’t get to know her at all basically.

Romance-wise, again, felt like I couldn’t trust anyone. It was the first season where I just wasn’t interested in anyone romantically because I didn’t get to know anyone really, and most were horrible to me. When the first character designs dropped, I liked Suresh, then was let down. I liked Alfie, then was let down. I liked Johnny, then was let down. I liked Finn, then was let down. I liked Lulu, but the choice to pick Gabi was just too tempting, and guess what? Lulu didn’t let me down, even as just a friend. (I’m glad I picked Gabi in the end, but I still know nothing about her…) Nobody really wanted mc and mc couldn’t really have anyone either. I think there was a lot of wasted potential with li’s. Like, hear me out: Suresh - enemies to lovers, Alfie/Dana - loyal routes, Finn - slow burn, Kat - friends to lovers, Johnny/Nicolas - partners in crime, Lulu - last-minute-sweep-me-off-my-feet, Gabi - messy, peak drama choice (I mean, come on, two girls wronged by the same ex get together? It’s my favorite part of this whole season - literally why I picked her, and she’s actually a sweetheart:))

Recouplings: 2/10

I remember in s4, I felt like there were too many recouplings, so in s5 they went ahead and gave us the least recouplings possible. Only once (1) can you actually pick someone you want to be with throughout the whole time in the villa, throughout all 42 episodes, all 16 volumes - right at the very end (!!!), unless you also willingly chose to twist switch to someone after casa amor. My main issue is that the whole season can be considered pointless because you can basically never couple up with who you want, casa boys wrong you and leave you anyway, bringing us back to square one with 3 og guys that you might’ve tried to escape the whole time. Or, if you’re on a Suresh route, the whole pining angst, or even, the whole idea of going to love island was useless and pointless because even though neither of them really grow or change as people (sorry my Suresh lovelies, it’s just how i see it), they finally talk it out and make up anyway, so none of these 42 episodes really mattered. Yeah, it angers me.

Finale: 4/10

As contradicting as it may sound, I do believe the team took feedback regarding s4 finale into consideration. We got final dates, prom prep, prom, declarations of love, winner announcements, love vs. money, and even a special vip guest - all components needed for a successful finale, the climactic resolution of the season, right? Wrong. I can live with the sacrifice of afterparty (not that I would want to see anyone from this season ever again anyway), but it seems natural progression of the finale was also sacrificed for the sake of jam-packing everything into the last volume. The events felt like they were happening with a speed of light: recoupling-hideaway (ugh)-date-picking a dress-prom-declaration-winners-money/love. I may be sleep deprived, but this made me even more dizzy. And not even that, but the progression of the relationship felt anything, but natural - it was more of a fever dream, really. I like you, Gabi, I do, and you’re sweet and give me full attention, but other than the fact that you like tattooing and fear squirrels, I know absolutely nothing about you (besides the obvious, of course). So all the plastic rings flying around, “being exclusive” and ahem, a PROPOSAL felt, uh… rushed. This is not Vegas, we are not eloping, and I basically don’t know you, so why, oh why would that even be an option?

Moving on, the resolution of the season overall was quite lackluster. Finn never confronted Kat, continuing on with a perfect illusion of romance for her. Well done, Finn. Suresh leaves (if you’re not with him), and decides to let loose and go to Barbados, clearly indicating that he will resort back to his old ways. Nice. Alfie claims to have become a changed man, even appears regretful about things, but who’s to say if he really did change? A half-assed “we’re friends” speech from Kat really did nothing to me neither physically nor emotionally. Sooo… 16 volumes, 42 episodes later nobody learned anything, nobody admitted they were wrong, nobody really genuinely apologized, and nobody grew as a person. Yet again - the whole season was pointless. Add in the driest, most uninteresting writing and it was enough to leave me disappointed still.

We will not talk about Bobby. I refuse to talk about Bobby. That was not Bobby, he was not canon, it did not happen, and I will not accept any criticism.

Structure: 3/10

The only points here are for casa amor, and even that wasn’t done well (i have a post about it here somewhere). Starting with only 3 couples? Only what, like, 3 recouplings ever? Not a single beach hut moment? Not a single hideaway moment??? (No no, they cannot get away with a lackluster last minute “whatever, you can have your stupid hideaway” scene in the very end of the season) We’ve only been there for what feels like a week?? Are you kidding me? It seems we keep straying further and further away from the format of the actual show it’s meant to be based on and I don’t really like that tbh.

Storyline: 5/10

Tell you what, I was actually really intrigued when they first announced the theme of the season as “Ex in the Villa”. I remember people theorizing how they’re gonna handle it, who they’re bringing in, etc. But, a few episodes in I realized just how limiting it was to constrain the whole plotline to… just Suresh. All the conversations and all the drama got very-very redundant very-very quickly. The only redeeming quality was being able to pick Gabi. Check and mate. Oh, and Lulu. Lulu is my queen:) Here’s alternative ways they could’ve improved it: let players choose who their ex is from given characters; let our ex despise mc and mc despises them back in the beginning (enemies to lovers/enemies to besties); let all islanders be exes of other islanders (it won’t be love island the show anymore, but they weren’t really sticking to the format anyway, so); let mc have multiple exes in the villa (and then those two (or three?) exes fight for them); let players choose the reason why they’re exes.

Writing: 2/10

I’m kinda conflicted because I feel like it did get better, but it also got worse? Like, I appreciate using more of love island jargon and the conversations felt pretty natural, like real people would speak, you know? (But still, I can’t really speak to that, since I don’t live in the UK, my only exposure to different accents is through tv and videos.) But at the same time all conversations (75% of which are about Suresh and MC lol) felt so repetitive and so boring and it dragged on and on and on… and then you look back at the episode and realize that nothing’s happened and you didn’t learn anything about anyone. Character development was minimal, if there at all. Very little character depth, very limited background information. I’m not even going to mention mc… Spicy scenes were basically nonexistent and a massive downgrade from s4 (don’t even talk to me). And even in general, every scene was written so dry, so robotic, and so anticlimactic that it was just constant disappointment. The constant bullying from girls to wear expensive outfits was super annoying and unnecessary as well.

Update: I initially had a higher rating for writing, but after playing the finale, I had to cut it in half for the mere reason that I have reached my limit. The utter disrespect I felt when my eyeballs glanced over the screen and read “NSFW kiss” during a prom scene with Gabi was beyond something I could accept with understanding. Perhaps in some circumstances it could be an acceptable form of writing and communicating, but personally I considered the phrasing as a placeholder, instead of a legitimate description of such kiss. I believe if the company had at least the slightest respect for their players, they would and should do the bare minimum of proofreading the text before releasing it for satisfactory gaming experience. Unfortunately, I had to remove points for personal vindication and emotional damage, which is reflective of how I have been treated as a player.

Replayability: 2/10

Hmmm idk. Idk if I’ll ever replay this one. I never got too attached to characters or the storyline, maybe because they released it so soon after s4 and I wasn’t over that yet. And when I did feel a teeny tiny spark with a character, they went on and did something stupid/annoying/hurtful, so even if I did want to go back and do their routes, I feel like they hurt me and I don’t like them much anymore. The only way I mightttt replay it at some point is to just be a bitch to everyone from the beginning because they all deserve that, honestly…

Overall score: 4/10

Well, and that about wraps it up. I never had this many… negative emotions about a season - me, the person who always tells people to not compare seasons, give it a fair go, and not take it close to heart because it’s a game. I usually love burying my face in a pillow, giggling at my screen, and kicking my feet as pixels swoon over me, professing their undying love, but I was robbed of that this season, unfortunately. I’m definitely gonna miss the memes and the rants here every Wednesday, and being the sentimental ass that I am, I will actually feel kinda sad that it’s over. At the same time, this was the first season that I spent here, as an official member of the litg fandom lol, and I’m thankful to have made friends here, bonding over this season:) Thank you for reading my rants, agreeing with me, and offering your own insights and perspectives! I hope I was able to make you laugh a little bit too:) This season prompted me to write two fics (and maybe more to come) that I’m quite proud of, and it made me want to replay other seasons, so I guess there is some good that came out of it, right? ;) and since we didn’t get a traditional ending this season, in true litg fashion I’ll say it…

…Stay hydrated, islanders xoxo

#well i went off a little bit haha…#i tried to be objective:)#the ultimate rant lol #I’m not going away btw lol!#and if there’s s6 i’ll still play it…#litg #love island the game #litg s5 #litg eitv #litg ex in the villa #litg everyone #fusebox

112 notes · View notes

kalicofox · 1 year

Text

So I was talking to @shadow-pixelle about her new idea, and that sparked off a couple of ideas for me, one of which was this one-

At some point after Damian Wayne becomes Robin, someone decides to destroy batman by getting rid of Robin, so they cast a spell or something that casts him into the multiverse, to drift forever. Forever turns out to be approximately .3 seconds, because he ends up in the Pokemon world.

Six weeks later, the JL figure out a way to get him back, and send a small contingent to do so.

Bruce stared at his youngest son as, in the background, Superman snickered. He probably thought he was being subtle, the part of his mind that wasn’t dumbstruck pointed out.

“You… what?”

Damian, (and he looked older, the detective part of his brain whispered, there must have been some sort of time differential, despite what Constantine had said, he looked, what, fifteen? Sixteen? Still small. Still slight. He had his mother’s build for all he had his father’s coloration.) looked up at Bruce, meeting his eyes easily even through the cowl’s lenses. “I want to bring my friends back with me.”

“Damian,” Bruce started, then stopped helplessly.

“Don’t your friends have friends?” Wonder Woman asked, her voice gentle. “Family? Wouldn’t it be cruel to take them away from the world they know?”

Damian scoffed, then grinned at them, the expression so far off what Bruce had ever seen from his son that he stopped, staring again. “Don’t be ridiculous. They all volunteered! They want to come!”

Wonder Woman blinked.

“Can we meet your friends?” Superman sounded like he was suppressing more laughter, and Damian’s grin grew wider, going a touch evil.

“But of course! Though we’ll need to make a quick stop.”

Bruce just watched as Damian led himself, Superman, and Wonder Woman through the tiny village they’d found Damian just outside of, toward an anachronous building with a red roof and an odd, two-colored sphere on the front.

“Wait here.” Damian directed them, and practically bounced into the building.

Bruce was getting worried. The only times Damian had ever acted remotely this gleeful had been times that directly led to or followed grievous bodily harm for someone else.

“Do you think he’s making a phone call?” Superman asked, glancing around the small square they’d paused in.

“Possibly.” Wonder Woman shrugged, and Bruce was going to say something, but then Damian came back out with his backpack obviously bulging, and the words went out of his head.

“Come on, I can’t show you in town, the Jenny would go insane.”

The Jenny? Bruce wondered, and Superman echoed his thought out loud.

“They’re the local police force.” Damian said comfortably. “Or, sort of. Every police department has a Jenny. They’re identical women, all with the same name. They claim that they’re all from the same family, and I’ve seen nothing to dismiss that claim. They aren’t clones,” He added, darting a look back at the heroes. “I checked. They really are just very nearly identical.”

“I see…” Superman sounded vaguely bemused as Damian marched off the path and into the trees, toward a glint of water in the near distance.

“So… how long has it been for you?” Wonder Woman asked, and Damian glanced back at her.

“About six years. Which is great, it gave me time to do all sorts of things, and I definitely wouldn’t have met some of my friends if I hadn’t stayed this long.”

So he was seventeen, then. Bruce briefly mourned the lost chance to watch his son grow up, to watch him become this relaxed, confident, amused young man in front of him.

“Professor Juniper Senior has been a great help.” Damian continued, jumping over a log easily and continuing through the woods.

Bruce could hear water, now, and the chirping of frogs as they got closer.

“He set it up for me that, when someone came for me, or if I figured my own way back, that I could take all of my friends back with me. He even bribed Sylph into setting up a closed network for me, so that I wouldn’t have to rely on a network that doesn’t exist in our world.”

Network? Bruce blinked behind his cowl. What?

“Speaking of your friends,” Wonder Woman sounded amused. “Are we meeting them somewhere?”

“Kind of,” Damian replied as they broke through the treeline and emerged onto a grassy strip of land between the forest and the large, clear blue lake.

He took off his backpack, and turned it upside down, and a plethora of red and white spheres tumbled out of the bag.

“Come on out, guys! Time to introduce yourselves!”

#pokemon #DC #Batman #Damian Wayne #my writing #my fics

15 notes · View notes

gumasantan · 2 years

Text

hemorrhage: a yaeyato oneshot

about: a yakuza AU with yae miko of the grand narukami shrine and kamisato ayato of the kamisato clan.

word count: ~4.5k words (istg these oneshots just keep getting longer and longer).

author's note: requested by one of my moots, had real fun writing this one! next fic would be ~10k words long now HAHAHAHA anyway, please enjoy!

Bang!

…

A loud thud resounded within the room, immediately followed by a deafening silence.

Sounds of footsteps shortly filled the quiet space, heading towards the source of the noise.

The pink-haired woman stares keenly at what’s laying in front of her before looking to the fabric that has been fully stained with red through and through.

This is gonna be such a mess for the poor bastard that’s going to tidy this up.

Appearing unimpressed, she sighs as she walks over the lifeless corpse beneath her and towards the window. The rain that’s slowly but quickly dripping over the glass hazes the lively glows of the cityscape over on the other side. She gazes wistfully at the sight that cannot be absorbed.

Expressing slight disappointment with a frown, she turns around and sits down on the office chair. With the same unamused look, she puts her weapon down, reached inside both of her pockets and grabbed a cigarette in her left and a lighter in the right. Like a match made in heaven.

Flick!

“It’s so damn cold here.” She grumbles to no one.

As she attempts to conceal her shivering as if she’s hiding her anxiety while negotiating for a juicy deal in front of three businessmen— Oh.

She inhales the rough flavor of tobacco and blows the smoke outwards carelessly.

At least here no one will fucking complain.

She flicks the burning cigarette once more before putting it again in her mouth, withering it to crisp in one go and throwing its butt to the wall. Giving herself time to soak some warmth back to her chilly form, she puts down her sunglasses to the table and forcefully takes her phone from her pocket.

Letting her back fall onto the chair, she sets her foot aside on the wooden furniture.

She looks up to the ceiling and closes her eyes, allowing some of that fatigue to melt just so she could recover some of that lost energy in this day that seems to go on without end. Not her first time, but she could just never get used to it. God help her if she ever did.

A few seconds have passed by and she finally let herself enter back into consciousness.

She opens her phone that she has tightly held in front of her, and is greeted by the ever-familiar sight of a young man with a hair that reflects the color of the sky, magnificently contrasting with his maroon tuxedo, tightest as it can get to reveal some form of his true build.

Unbeknownst to her, whether by impulse or conscious choice, she purred at the sight.

Her look became that of a miner who had just struck gold, or rather, diamond for that matter. Tantalized by the figure her eyes had seen, she swayed her fingers towards her phone, gently caressing the screen, with the desire of someone that wants them to just morph out of their pixelated form right there, right then.

“Oh…how badly I just want to be with you.” His enchantment has seemed to work once more.

“I promise you. I would never have anyone have their way with you. Only me, and me only.” With a teasing tone in her voice.

She giggled slightly as she tried to wear off that fleeting moment of temptation which have been recurrently disrupting her otherwise serious approach to her work, but it had never bothered her in the slightest.

Oh…you’re going to be the death of me. And I’m gonna make myself your death too.

As quick as she became roused in that instant, she swiftly managed to switch her attention back to her task at hand. She finally opened her phone and worked her way to her contacts list, scrolling past what seemed like thousands of numbers, looking for the right one to message. Tapping on the number, she typed:

“I got the right guy. Expect no more disturbance from him.”

She sent the message seconds before hearing a sound that confirmed its delivery. She turned her phone off as she let her mind wander over to one of the million things she constantly think about every day.

Life here is definitely difficult, but she had no choice, because this could lead to a better outcome she is hoping for, unlike her other dead-end jobs. They weren’t cutting it at all. She had, and to an extent, still has love for her passion works nevertheless. Inside that scope of limitless satisfaction, any competition present would be effortlessly defeated, they could have made her live forever.

Only if the environment wasn’t so demanding, only if the people weren’t that toxic: Only if she didn’t constantly feel like something was missing, then maybe she wouldn’t have turned to a life full of violence, torture, conflict, and revenge. She is cruel enough to keep working like this, but…

She wasn’t soulless.

Her concern for her own safety, financial stability, or even legacy, fails in comparison when it comes to her concern of what’s left of her own purity, desperately clinging onto the last unstained fragments of her character.

For her, the only thing that sets her apart from her peers is her unparalleled ability for romance. Yet her growing numbness has made her ignorant of what makes her, her. Years of being in the same business has molded her into being an unrecognizable part of the whole, slowly breaking down her own identity. It’s a miracle that it hasn’t completely destroyed her.

She only recently realized what it was doing to her, but it didn’t come from any life-changing occurrences nor any attempts at self-reflection. Her true self-esteem, unperceived by the people who think who knows her, cannot allow that to happen anymore.

No.

It was like an outside force that just barged her doors down. It was entirely unexpected.

“That guy—“

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sound vibrating from her phone.

She quickly grabbed her phone, appearing frustrated that her time for contemplating was disturbed. She opens it, and sees the message on the notification tab:

“An order from the oyabun himself: Eliminate shatei Kamisato, guilty of colluding with rival clan Aritoshi-kai. He will be there soon, you’ll have only this night to carry this out.”

She looks with widened eyes as she reads the message again.

The bad dream.

“Ah.” She utters.

Truly the perfect model of composure, she calmly sets her phone down and gently spins his chair to face the window again. From an outside look, she seemed unfazed as she always does whenever any hit mission is to be carried out, but this was the first time she had been ordered to kill one of their own. And that person, really had to be him.

“My, my. It just had to be you, pretty boy. Hm?” She says with a luscious voice, forming a smile on her lips as she looks towards the window, noticing the same sight of the moist glass.

She grabs her phone away from the table to her soft palms. She opens it and quickly went to her gallery. Pictures amounted to thousands, she scrolls down as if she’s desperately looking for something: Fancy shots of her fine-dining quality sets of meals, close-ups of red foxes, selfies of herself trying out multiple clothes and dresses, images of jewelries, screenshots of texts and book covers, and an old picture of her in a white robe and a scarlet skirt-like clothing.

Scrolling past these photos caused her to smile pensively as she reminisces within her mind.

She really have lived a life.

Though they were great memories, they will never compare to the relevance of what’s just now presented on her screen.

“Oh, look at you.” She mutters with that same tone in her voice.

Several pictures of her subordinate clothed in different suits, taken by her in multiple occasions when they are in the same room together or when they boss had to call in a meeting. She couldn’t just resist taking candid photos of him when she had the chance.

He wore formal suits in most of his pictures, only varying in color. One in complete black, another in a floral cyan tuxedo with black pants, and another one in white tuxedo and red pants. She definitely could have completed the entire color wheel just with his clothing style. Sometimes, she could get a picture of him in his casuals, especially when he’s off his job. There’s a picture of him in blue sweaters and black tights and another in a simple blue t-shirt and white shorts.

Seeing all of those with a thirsty gaze, she scrolled a bit before finding and tapping on another photo of his:

It was a picture of him during the initiation ritual when he officially joined the clan. He was only wearing an underwear that time while having a tattoo of a mishmash of dragons, suns, and flowers on the right upper half of his body, covering his entire right arm. During the capture of the photo, the rites were finished, he was drinking a bubble tea while resting on a chair.

“Shame, you look so handsome in these photos. In fact, this one is my favorite.” As she continues to stare at the semi-naked photo of his, swallowing the dryness she’s feeling in her throat.

She didn’t know what to feel in carrying out her mission. She knew that she was definitely in love with him, but she also knows that she couldn’t go against the boss. Let it be anyone, a middleman or whatnot, just not the boss. She had seen the consequences firsthand of continuing with such an act.

Courageousness? Stupidity?

Either way, the outcome was always the same.

She could have let a battle rage on in his mind about what she should do. She could have let the dilemma go on for a bit longer like what back then when she received her very first orders. But no, she had learned. She knows where to set her mind to. After all, this is her job, isn’t it?

“Alright.” She firmly says, with no more traces of hesitation.

A notification sound was heard from her phone again. It was a message from an unknown number:

“This is Ryuma. Oyabun messaged me of your task. Kamisato and I are about to enter the room in a couple of minutes. This is your chance, ane-san Yae. Your call, I’ll be prepared.”

She returns her phone back to the pocket.

This needs to end quickly. Someone might’ve called the police once the gunshot possibly echoed through the walls.

Alright, I’ll take him out with one bullet, and this will soon blow over.

As the glass reflects a nod, she returns the chair back behind the table and settled herself down. She stood up, putting her sunglasses back on and grabbing the gun, putting it behind in the back of her pants, a snatch away from being able to arm herself.

She arranges herself to look as pretty as she can get, especially in front of his crush target. Brushing her hair so that it falls down as straightest as it can get on his back. Adjusting her bangs back to the correct position towards the middle so that it may not block her sight.

Beautiful, but efficient.

Now, comes the worst part: The unpredictable wait.

But she will have to endure, even if it gets a little insufferable.

All of this fucking tension for what?

…

“So, what am I to do with this body? It feels so…out of place for a room that’s intricately designed as this one.”

She complements the room as she tries to entertain herself while waiting, tapping her heels on the floor.

To be all alone, even with a corpse, in anticipation for someone and standing, not doing anything but to maintain that form, is a little bit awkward…and a bit creepy.

…

A sound was heard as the door unlocks.

Footsteps resonated within the dead space as they entered the room, encountering a pink-haired woman sitting by the table.

“Ane-san Yae!” A black-haired man spoke and bowed in front of her.

She immediately identified him as Ryuma, her companion.

His greeting was followed by another:

“Ane-san Yae.” The familiar blue-haired man spoke and smoothly bowed in front of her.

This man’s gentle voice reverberated along her bones, causing slight goosebumps arising on her skin. Somehow, his voice creates an aura of comfort that follows him wherever he goes, and she wants to be within that distance, and much closer.

She notices that he had worn a combination of colors he had never used before. He paired his white tuxedo and pants with a light purple t-shirt and a golden tie. He has never managed to look this as elegant as this before.

Taken aback by his appearance, she returns back their greetings.

“Shatei Ryuma, and shatei Kamisato. Good evening, let’s have a talk, shall we? And oh, sorry for the body here, please let it not bother us.” Her sultry tone has returned, the fault of one Kamisato.

Yes, keep looking at me.

“Oh, and before I continue, Mister Kamisato, would you be so kind to allow me to refer to you by your own name?” She curiously but excitedly inquires.

“Ayato, you mean, Ma’am Yae?” He clarifies with a smile.

She nods back with a smile, childishly letting those butterflies float in her stomach.

Your smile is enough to paint more than a million stars.

“Yes, you may. You need not to ask me about that, ma’am.” He jokingly replies back with a soft smile within the corner of his lips.

She gestures to Ryuma to close and lock the door behind them, signifying that she still hasn’t forgotten their intentions with him here.

“Alright. Mister Ayato, I’m going straight to the point. Our oyabun called us here to…settle some differences.” With a bossy voice, she starts explaining the situation to her subordinates.

“There are rumors going around in the clan of someone being dishonest and treacherous to us all. That someone was collaborating with one of our rival clans, exposing all of the clan’s details to them.”

She continues to explain, creating that controlling aura over them.

She looks towards Ayato, observing that he keeps that same serious look as she talks. Sometimes, she often confuses Ayato’s attentiveness with his indifference. If he is able to maintain this same look every damn time, then it is no wonder why he can get away with anything, including this one.

Listen to me, sweetheart. Listen carefully.

“Since our oyabun deeply cares about the integrity and trustworthiness of the clan, he wanted to know if there was any substance to the rumor. Unfortunately, with the help of our superiors, they managed to confirm that the rumor is indeed true.” She sighs disappointingly at the end of her little summary.

Both of her juniors remained quiet, listening to their senior.

One, responsively listening and looking to her.

And the other, responsively listening but looking away from her.

“Did they manage to track down the culprit, Ma’am?” Ryuma questioned with a startled look, playing into Yae’s little ruse.

“Yes, they did. With the greatest efforts of the administrators of our clan, they managed to pluck out a name.” She assured Ryuma.

“Mister Ayato, how do you feel?” She gazes back at him, trying to suggest something.

He seemed to nonchalantly quiver after she asked him, looking straight back at her. A man that looked like he was tranced by something off the distance.

“I…I must say, Ma’am, I find all of that saddening, but most angering. I never would have thought that one of us will have the brass neck to betray the clan, after everything that the clan has done to them. Although I’m the most recent one that have joined, I am very appreciative of the assistance that each member, and above all, the boss, have given us.” He finally answered, though, with some hesitation present in his tone.

And she caught onto that.

Good boy.

“As you might’ve known, we have always strived to expand our reach but if there is one thing that this clan values above all, then it would be our utmost royalty. We may be few as compared to our rivals, but each and every one of their members have never had such a close relationship like ours.” She loudly proclaims while looking suspiciously at both Ryuma and Ayato.

Ayato may be good at playing dumb, but Yae is a master at playing the part.

Regardless if it represents much of her morals or not.

“And as one of its seniors, might I say that I quite simply had enough…”

A hushed snarl was heard as she trailed off her little speech. Something that was uncharacteristic of her.

“Let’s cut the bullshit. This traitor is present in this room.”

She had never been quite the angry type that would lash at people from out of the blue. She could be angry but still have that same attitude as if she wasn’t. There is something calculated in the manner of how she unleashes some of that irritation.

I had fucking enough of playing this little game and having to do it over and over again!

Her subordinates were startled at her, but understood of some her annoyance.

Well, at least one of them does.

The other seemed to be a little on edge.

“Let’s play a little game: At the count of three, whoever’s alive after is clean, while the person with a hole in his skull is the traitor that I’ve been talking about, got it?” Those words slipped past her tongue like a knife cutting through a butter, intimidating them both, even Ryuma.

Effortlessly, her hands danced towards the gun, cocks it, and then points it towards their general direction.

“One.”

She starts the countdown.

Ryuma remained still in his posture. He knows that he isn’t the target.

Ayato looked threatened but retained that confidence in the way he presents himself.

“Two.”

Ryuma stayed still as he stares towards Yae, and switching his attention to the would-be victim.

Ayato bit his lip, staring at the floor while putting his hands behind his back.

Oh?

“Three.”

She finishes the countdown.

Bang! Bang!

A loud thud resounded within the room, immediately followed by a deafening silence.

Sounds of hitched breaths shortly filled the quiet space.

Two succeeding gunshots were heard, instead of just one.

The figures still standing held their form, arms outwards after shooting at the other, all while staring at each other intently at the eyes.

Yae realizes she’s still alive, in relief.

Ayato realizes he’s still alive, in disbelief.

He peeks beside at where Yae is looking.

The poor Ryuma has been rendered lifeless by a gunshot in the head.

Ayato looks back at Yae.

He realizes that he had missed her by a few inches, and had shot at the window behind her.

Damn it, I need to bear the weight better!

The two of them still gaze at each other in silence, waiting for the other to start speaking.

…

“I…I was torn between killing you and letting you live. I suppose you had already known since the beginning that I was referring to you?”

She muttered between held but disjoint breaths, either from nervousness or the fatigue of letting it all out.

“Yes…yes, Ma’am Yae.” As he confirms her suspicion.

Oh, you beautiful thing.

“Stop it now with the ‘ma’am’ now, shall we? I am no longer your superior.” She quietly admits.

He looks at her suspiciously.

“Yeah, haven’t you had the clue of what I’m trying to say here? I no longer want to be a part of this clan. When I said that I’ve had enough before, I really meant it, not just with this thing but with everything.”

She drops her weapon, letting herself be defenseless in front of him.

A dangerous move.

“Do you realize what you have just done?” He wants to make sure if Yae’s acting like herself, and not possessed by some otherworldly force.

She lets her body fall on the table, still sitting straight as drips of sweat trickled off her forehead.

“To be completely honest with you, I don’t know what had just happened. I was assigned the task of eliminating you. At first, I accepted the assignment, but when you and Ryuma came here, and I saw you in person, something clicked inside of me. I don’t understand if it’s the frustration of senseless killing or is it the frustration of having to kill you that got to me, but it made me aim my gun towards Ryuma instead of you.”

She confesses in an honest but distressed tone.

She wasn’t the type of person to tell anyone what’s she’s been feeling. The social isolation created by his work has trained her to be used to the stoic but confident approach to life, only letting some of her honesty from time to time when the situation truly required it.

This...this was something foreign to her. She didn’t act like this before in any of her previous hits, what’s so different about this one? It was easy to do, the setup was great, and all she had to do was point towards the target, and not to someone or something else.

Don’t you realize?

“Yae, I appreciate your honesty, but I’m a rookie with a gun and you could’ve just simply ended me there and then. Why didn’t you? It would’ve been less hassle for you. And now, they will hunt you down too.” Ayato spoke.

You have such a thick skull. Is this what chronic consumption of bubble tea does to you?

Ayato’s ignorance of the situation hit Yae like a truck, and it prompted her to shoot out of the table, consuming any of the energy she has left just to walk towards him and grab her by his collar, facing him just inches away.

“You want to know why I did it? Well, I’ll fucking tell you why. It’s you, you are the reason why I shot that poor idiot beside us, and not you. Here’s what you need to know about me: I am Yae, and I am utterly tired living like this. With all of our previous meetings you might’ve thought that I’m living lavishly and happily, but I am not. I live in constant fear being here. And so, when you came here, I thought of you as a way to break out of this shell, because I fucking fell for you at first sight and I loved you then, and I love you now, and I want to live with you, without bother from these assholes we’re working for. I do not know much about you except that you are fucking hot, and I want to witness this art handcrafted and chiseled by the gods themselves, every single, living, day, of my life. But you know what made me grab your collar and speak to you aggressively like this? It’s because I realized that you are not a shallow man. When you asked me why I didn’t kill you, it confirms to me that you are thoughtful, unlike the past good-for-nothing suitors I’ve encountered. I want to live with a person like that because that’s the way I’ve been living my entire life. Now, I am presenting you with two choices: Either you can render me and everything I’ve said meaningless by not returning my feelings for you, or you can just say to me straight that you love me as well and I’m inviting you, as your would-be girlfriend, to run away with me, living like hunted rats, but at least…at least…I’m with you.”

Yae ended her little rant breathlessly, yet unmoving with the way he handles Ayato by her hands. Still inches away from his face, letting his sweet scent enter her nostrils and her desperate breaths enter his.

The smell of those who are out of luck.

She awaits for his reply, knowing that she will allow herself to be forceful enough to only accept one decision.

“Alright, Yae.”

Ayato answered with conviction written all over his voice.

“Alright what?! Ayato?”

She presses the issue to leave no doubts.

Yet found herself stunned when she felt something wet on her lips.

Ah, yes please.

His lips briefly met with hers.

Both of them immediately snatched onto the other.

In that short amount of time, Yae managed to melt into the kiss enough to savor his taste. She could definitely taste some traces of the bubble tea, but overall, it was unlike any other that her mouth had the pleasure of receiving. She wanted this taste to be hers, and hers only.

He pulls away from her, seeing her half-lidded eyes return to normal.

She liked what she received.

"Mmmm~"

Sirens were heard from outside the room.

Hearing the noise, they both stood up at the same time, supporting each other as they gaze at one another.

“Yae, I do not know much about you too, but what I do know is that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, and yes, I would agree with everything you’ve said about this way of living. Even after betraying the clan, when I thought that having more would satisfy me, it still didn’t.”

Ayato pensively speaks as he shamelessly confesses his own reasons for betraying the clan, hoping that she could just brush it all off. And lucky for him, it’s easy for Yae to find things that don’t matter to her and not give a single shit about it.

“People do not need more, they just need a single thing, the correct one.” She replies.

She hopes that Ayato would see what she’s hinting at.

“I’m still not sure about my feelings for you…but I want to figure it out.”

Was that a yes, or a no?

“Ayato, you’ll only have a few moments to choose before the police fucking catch us and lock us out like dogs. Do you want to be hunted alone? Or be hunted together with me?”

She gave him the ultimatum of her life.

The police would soon arrive at the scene.

The detectives note the dried messiness of the blood splattered all over the floor and walls.

This time, the window would be clear.

The corpses covered with body sheets, number markings present everywhere, from the table to the chair so they can be used as evidences in the court.

Besides the crime scene, an interview was occurring.

“Can you give us any details about the way they look? Anything that stands out that can help our forensic artists create a more accurate sketch of the appearance of our suspects here?”

“Well, the thing was, I was flat-out drunk that night, so I wouldn’t be able to give you anything regarding their faces. Although, I can remember that I saw them escape on the rooftop: One with pink hair, and one with a blue one.”

#genshin impact #yae miko #kamisato ayato #yaeyato

23 notes · View notes

walshparker · 10 months

Text

who: parker where: alcott dorm when: late night/early morning after the fire

drained was not an apt word for the state in which parker was in. she was void, numb, emptied of each miniscule bit that accumulated to her—wonderful and horrible, alike. physically, nothing could reach her, as though an invisible forcefield separated her hand from the dorm building door handle, her bare feet—the night's heels in hand—from the cold ground, her fingertips from the soft skin of her face as she subconsciously pulled some hair from her vision. the copper mop had long gone flat and piecey from running, sweating; being laid against a hospital bed, then thrust back out into the cool early morning air.

or was it still nighttime? which hour deemed it to be one or the other? where was the line that made the world cross from one into the next? was it more metaphorical—the time at which people, the earliest of risers, began to awake from their night's sleep and start "the day"? or did it depend on the sky, the first soft, muted blanket of light the first sign of day? it was called daybreak, after all. the time when light literally broke through the vast, blackened sky to welcome yet another beginning. another cycle, endlessly pushing onward into infinity. going and going, on and on, without the slightest graceful pause to acknowledge the utter horror of what'd happened.

parker couldn't stop thinking about her—about ida. the flash of her flaxen hair, the ever-mysterious curve of her grin. her charm, her coyness, her voice. two strength cards, one magician. the sound of her name as she'd last spoken it to charlie. the shape of it on her phone screen. she needed to delete the message, she knew that, but at the moment it was far too valuable. a moment frozen in time, in small pixels backed with light, that acted as though she was still there. timestamped like an old letter.

besides, parker didn't even know where her phone was. she'd had it as she'd wondered into the various hospital rooms of her friends like a specter. it'd rested in her shaky grasp as she texted family members—i'm fine. i'm okay. i'm at the hospital. no, i'm okay. i promise. it was most likely that she'd stuffed it into her bag on the walk from the school entrance across campus to alcott, but she couldn't recall performing the action. not even as she opened room #202's door and immediately dropped the shimmery purse on the floor.

a deep breath filled her lungs and, for a moment, she didn't know what to do. both hands flexed at her sides, as though trying to regain a sense of feeling, before parker realized just how quiet it was. though there was an urge to answer her bed's call, her feet carried her in the opposite direction until she reached jesse's door. again, for a moment she paused, listened.

nothing.

she reached for the door handle and swung it open in one swift motion, only for her eyes to confirm what her ears had predicted. he wasn't there. a spike of worry shot through parker's chest as she took a second, third, fourth look around the room for a shadowy figure or lump atop the bed. but, again and again, nothing.

there was a lapse in immediate memory, an immense preoccupation of the mind, but the next thing parker knew, she was standing at her own bedroom door with her phone—wherever it'd come from—in her hands, checking to see if he'd called or texted.

fear and dread and grief and anxiety fought to occupy her chest, growing and pushing through the numbness once parker had shut herself into her room. she blinked and a tear slid down her cheek—the first since she'd settled into her hospital room. a sort of self-preserving mode had taken over at that earlier point, under the sterile-looking lights, urging her to be a calm and problem-solving presence. but now she was alone. there was no one to support, nor anyone to support her.

and it all just built up, like one of those fundraising signs that rose and filled a shape in with color until it reached the top. as it neared a breaking point, parker began to pace, back and forth until she couldn't contain it anymore. on a final pass, she approached her dresser table and took one of several perfume bottles into her grasp. the glass felt cool and sturdy against her palm and she squeezed it there.

then, turning her torso and drawing her shoulder back like the string of a bow, she threw it at the wall. a wild, curdling scream left her throat, though it hardly met her ears, and she reached for another one and another one, still.

only a minute ago, there had been five pretty little bottles nicely set in there place. now they laid shattered amongst one-another on the floor near the window. parker's knees went out from under her and she was, too, on the floor; lady jane grey blindfolded and reaching for the executioners block with uncertainty. yet, there was no release, no sense of relief. the dread merely persisted, closing around her like a fist.

parker laid there for some time, inhaling the sickly floral mixture until her sense returned to her. she couldn't lay there forever; she couldn't be alone. she couldn't do nothing, when doing nothing, for her, was as unnatural as holding your breath. eventually, her body would kick in and force her into action. and it did.

she got up and went to the bathroom, where she washed off her makeup and brushed the tangles out of her hair with as little eye-contact in the mirror as possible. only when she'd cleaned every trace of the messy night off of her body did she make it back to her room, where she covered it in the nearest comfortable clothing. finally, grabbing her phone and slipping on the ugg minis that sat perpetually by the door, she left the mess behind in favor the main floor.

there'd been no plan, just an innate sense of being unable to spend the following hours isolated up there. but up there, down here, it didn't really matter—because the hard truth of it was that she was deeply alone and she couldn't tell anybody why. her worst fear and her most honest truth for the past two years. the thought curled up in her lap, just as she curled up in a large lounge chair, and, rather than shoo it away like she always had, she let it stay. it was home, after all.

#self para #tw violent imagery #i actually have no idea what this is #sort of filling in the blank between hospital and alcott

6 notes · View notes

tempest-toss · 2 years

Note

Lethal Protection from Ten for @professor-nikolai-frost? :>

[Non-canon event unless asked to be made otherwise. TW: death. Also this is a long post]

It was supposed to be a carefree day. Ten had found a good outfit that fit Frost's era and traveled all the way to the Foundingverse to meet Frost in person. They exchanged greetings and began to talk for hours, filling in the other on events that had transpired in their respective realities. They also used this time to exchange bits of their time period with the other, like sweets (Frost) or what a spark plug is (Ten) and why you should always carry one in your pocket.

The laughter and fun times died down as Ten began to hear a noise. It sounded like an engine almost, specifically one from his own time. In fact it sounded like a specific sort of engine that Ten was very familiar with, but there was no way they'd chase him all the way to another reality, right?

Unfortunately for Ten he was dead wrong. A large object landed harshly into the ground causing Ten and Frost to shield their eyes as dirt flew around them. When Ten lowered his arms he grimaced at what he saw. The object was large and metallic. It had a sleek yet boxy build and was black and brown with red accents. It had titanium claws and a red visor that resembled its "eye", and was complimented by a similar colored set of round ears. If Ten were to describe it it would be that he was looking at a bear mech. But the only one to have a mech like this was

"Digit."

Ten growled out the name as the figure made herself known on top of the bear-like robot. She had short sleek hair that was platinum with streaks of black. Her attire was similar to that of mecha animes with binary coding written on it. She held a neutral look as she jumped down and landed in front of the duo.

"My answer is still no," Ten asked, already knowing what she was going to ask of him. She rolled her eyes at Ten's response.

"Oh come on now," she spoke, "We both know you'd be having more fun back with the Nightsticks than at the Foundation talking with people like him," she said jabbing a thumb in Frost's direction. "Besides the big boss talks about you every day, can you at least come back so we can spared his yammering? The simpage is too much sometimes."

"I don't really care," Ten responded, anger rising. "You can just leave because I'm not going back!" Digit scoffed.

"Fine then. Don't come back. Just know I'm not leaving without a plus one to my body count." She then snapped her fingers and the mech began to make its way towards Frost. In quick succession Ten kicked out Digit's legs so she couldn't interfere, and ran towards Frost. He then took out the spark plug from in his jacket pocket and threw it at the mech's visor, shattering it upon impact. The mech roared in anguish and stepped back from Frost.

"Ursa!" Digit screamed before she roared in anger. "Alright, that's it," she spat as she pulled out a gun and pointed it at Frost, "I'll do it myself!" Just as she cocked the gun Ten threw the Nintendo DS he always keeps in his pocket at her head, stunning her as she instinctively held her head in pain. Ten took this brief moment too grab her and swing out in between Frost and the bear mech Ursa. A few seconds after landing her head was no longer throbbing, so she readied her gun again. Only to have her head be crushed under her own mech's mechanical paw.

Ten lifted his hand up and said aloud "Command Override Ursa, Co-Leader Pixel." As he said this the mech's broken visor changed from red to a light blue, and it's posture (if one could call it that) seemingly shifted to a more docile one. Ten finally let out his held breath as the adrenaline left him. He gave a small laugh that he not only re-claimed a mech he worked on, but his MTF training and FPS shooting skills were still on par, AND he protected the life of his friend.

As he thought that he turned towards Frost only to see his friends' face one of worry and confusion. Looks like he has a lot of explaining to do to the poor doctor.

#[wooof that took forever #spark plugs were invented in 1860 so it tracks #while this may be non-canon Ten's past and abilities are canonical #also if Toacho wants this can be made canon #it depends on them though since Frost is theirs]

2 notes · View notes

lonelygamedev · 2 months

Text

Pulverizer 13th devlog: Off goes the head

After I finished writing part 12 this month, I decided to start work on what I worried to be a complicated mechanic, that being the Execution system. I was mostly worried with how it would look, along with the many technical questions. But first I had some things to do in preparation for that, mainly adding the code and animation’s for melee and charged attack’s, since I gutted the code and they’re required to even start executions. I added back the old function’s for hit detection and damage, cleaned it up for animation’s and added a little charging SFX. With that done I got to work on the actual executions, starting with trying to imagine what I want. I had the idea of making one animation of an entire execution, make the player teleport to the right position and play it. So I got started by creating an animation for the katana and try to add it into the game, but that’s when I came across two problems. First one being the fact that I cannot create one whole animation with two characters, blender just doesn’t allow two armatures in one animation, I had to mix two animation’s and stitch them together. And that’s when I came across my second issue of it just not mixing well with the game, everything else is multidirectional so why shouldn’t the executions be as well? After the failure of the first test I began to have a better Idea for executions The actual 3d animation will be one direction, but it will correspond with the direction both enemy and player are facing. When you get an enemy into an executable state, the enemy plays a looping animation. When the execution start’s the enemy looks at the player as it dashes to the first point, point’s are just the direction from the enemy to the player multiplied by a distance. With that I can play a sequence of animation’s and use a tool to get the position and timing right, thus the execution is done. Implementing it took a bit of time since it all required IEnumator’s, which can be tricky and hard to debug if not done correctly. Bug after bug later I got too see my animation mixed together and It looked quite nice, so I decided to implement it ingame which also became its own can of worms. One issue was trying to figure out how to determine an Execution to play since it required knowing the enemy, weapon and player character. As a temporary solution, I assigned myself to fate and that it will bite me in the ass later. I decided the best course was just add the weapon and enemy and throw out the playable characters entirely for now. After that and rewriting several lines of code I got it to work and was quite happy with the result even if it’s unfinished. I decided to also add a death animation to the player which was quite easy. By then I felt it was time to begin to push the demo out, so I started work on two things in parallel.

First one being a redesign of the one and only playable games in the game, I never liked her original Design and felt off by it. I begin the redesign with coming up with a background for the character with my original idea for her being an assassin/spy/ninja/whatever. Soon after looking at definition’s I decided hired hitman was the best profession, with the backstory that she worked for a lot of illegal companies and one of them snitch for a plea deal. I begin by modifying the colors sense the old design had an issue where the colors of the hand would blend with the body. So I made the body gray while the arms and legs are black to add contrast, and also got rid of the glasses sense they never appeared right when pixelated. Afterward I decided to try out the idea of having little armored plates mainly on the back and chest, I liked the design since it made practical sense while still looking flexible. Afterward I decided to create a backup and experiment with some accessories I came up with that had stiff consequences, mainly getting rid of the mirror modifier. When I added the armored plates, I decided to go into ms paint and add a female reference sheet I had and draw a quick design

The design I came up with added mainly an eye patch, curved the hair a little and made the right arm cybernetic. I liked the idea sense I felt like it communicated her backstory, showing she’s something of an outlaw and had failed hit’s. Slowly I begin to add the cybernetic arm and features and other than a few nicknacks, I think it’s done for the most part.

Second Thing I did while redesigning was some modifications to the animation pipeline. One of the first thing’s I did was make a preview camera, add it to a render texture and applied that texture to an image. Next up is render templates sense I had an issue of forgetting the size and camera and texture sizes. Which had occurred when doing event sizes of enemies like mechs and having to increase the texture/camera size to stop cutoff when falling down. After that to speed up the render process, I decided to make a tool where I have lists of animations with names and file locations. So I can press the run button and watch something while waiting for it to be done

0 notes

ponds-of-ink · 1 year

Text

Quick Pre-Ruin One Shot: “A Moment of Confidence”

Had this idea in my head, so I wanted to get this out there. More of a half-joke (emphasis on half because oh boy this went from a joke to something else quick) than an actual head-canon for what could actually be in store for Ruin, but here we go. This might be a low key sequel to the whole Setback Saga I did ages ago..? Huh.

Also, speculative stuff and potential Tales from the Pizzaplex spoilers ahead. That second warning’ll make some sense in a moment, hopefully.

Padded footsteps thumped down the dingy hallway. Not with its typically skipping gait, but with a furious and steady rhythm. The bunny-like figure approached a large, open area where a bundle of wires and robotic parts towered above everything. Fortunately, the strange thing remained dormant as the rabbit stormed closer. “Where are you, you absolute slacker!?” it roared out in some eerily flat, feminine tone. “We’re almost ready for our final tests!”

Violet static pulsed from various cables. It sparked and glowed as it drew close to the mishmash. Suddenly, in a flash of similarly-colored light, a ghostly man in a casual outfit appeared in front of the creature. “My apologies,” he said softly, bowing low. “I was running some of my own experiments while you were preparing. Mobility in different forms and such.”

The bunny’s head tilted. “Does that explain why you look... different?” she asked, her tone slowly adding in a hint of disgust. “I never thought you would stoop so low as to turn into this... heavier shape, Mr. Afton.”

The man looked down at his portly figure. “Is it really ‘stooping low’ when the only thing I am defying is aesthetics?” he questioned back, placing a hand on his hip. “Honestly, ‘Mimic’, I am not sure why you are making such a fuss since I can revert back to my ‘normal’ state at any time.”

Mimic grumbled underneath the rabbit mask. “I’m not sure why you aren’t making a fuss,” she quipped back darkly. “Don’t you realize what the internet’ll do to you if you get caught looking like this?”

The man’s expression shifted into terror. “You are onto something there!” he gasped out, staggering towards Mimic as if he couldn’t just float over to her. “Whatever will they do if such a mad idea gets found out!? The Purple Man himself, once a pear-shaped giant of a human? The idea would be too much to bear for some of those poor souls! Oh, the discussions and debates that would spawn! Oh, the absolute humiliation!” Then, as if to lead this spiral of sadness to its natural conclusion, he leaned on Mimic’s shoulder and sobbed... much to her chagrin. “Well, William, at least you’re coming to your senses,” she grimaced. “So, can you please change back before someone new finds us?”

William’s crying softened. His half-pixelated face dropped its sad expression. “I will, but in a moment,” he answered softly, lifting himself off his listener. “What concerns me more is that fact that you failed to detect my complete and utter sarcasm. Whatever happened to your sense of humour, Glitch— Mimic? You used to be so maliciously joyous, prancing around like Spring Bonnie and the like! Now you just boss everyone around and guard me and my new fusion as if we’re some porcelain artifacts— Which is ironic, as I am sure you must be thinking about me being a one-and-done springboard for something else!”

‘Mimic’ sighed. “My humor died as soon as you failed your mission,” ‘she’ explained coldly. “Hopefully, your next attempt can revive it. Maybe even.. hurt a few more people on the way out, who knows? Two birds with one stone, as the saying goes.”

William rolled his eyes. “Unless my actions in that pile of metal and cords cause such a thing, do not count on me fulfilling that second wish,” he replied somberly as he floated back to the huge mishmash. “Especially since I am now reconsidering changing back into my ‘normal’ state.”

The remaining indoor lights flickered much more than usual. “Take that last part back,” ‘Mimic’ said with a growl, stepping forward. “Or else.”

“As if a threat like that should scare me nowadays,” William huffed, crossing his arms. “Please! I have dealt with so many furious demands that the only emotion I feel from yours is annoyance. Do yourself a favor and save those for when it counts. Trust me, it will do wonders.”

Mimic stepped even closer. “Take that back, or I will make you regret every last word you just said,” ‘she’ insisted, ‘her’ voice dropping in pitch as the darkness grew more frequent.

“What fear can you revive that I have not encountered already?” William inquired, shaking his head. “The fear of too many calories? Or is it the fear of returning to a body type I once despised? Whichever it is, I can assure you that I already have those covered.”

The room plunged into complete darkness. A more greenish rabbit emerged from the feminine figure. With a snap of its fingers, the rabbit made sure the once-dormant wires bound the man like chains weighing down a prisoner. The new bunny strolled over, clicking its unseen tongue as it drew nearer. “I think you still haven’t covered the most important one,” it smiled, its voice now more masculine and sinister. “The fear of not being able to escape.”

#glitchtrap #william afton #fnaf ruin #one shot #fnaf fanfic #vanny fnaf #this escalated quickly #the blob fnaf

1 note · View note

mi6021katarzynawilk · 2 years

Text

Final script

Final version of sript for the animation. I will post the storyboard next

An old run down eastern European building (1990 socioeconomic collapse aesthetic). There's lights and music coming from some windows, indicating there's a party going on inside. The main character heads inside, dressed in thick winter clothes. She passes by a group of people smoking. Their faces are blurred/pixelated (every side character is besides one girl). She waves to one of the girls and smiles at her.

Mc joins the party and stands near the corner of the room talking with some friends. Around her people are partying to techno music. She excuses herself to the bathroom to cool down and get a break from loud music. Looking at herself in the mirror and fixing her hair. When she looks away to walk out of the room, her reflection is still in the same position and is staring at her spookily.

Suddenly the music goes silent and when she exits the bathroom there are some silhouettes outside. However, they are all weirdly tall monsters with extremely long limbs. Surprised, she runs outside to the hallway expecting to see everyone there but it's empty as well. In a panic she runs between doors.

(Every monster or character she sees there corresponds to something that was in the party room, a fish in aquarium, the crowd, specific people or even herself)

She enters a room filled with thick fog. There's only a table with 2 people sitting by it. Deep in the fog we can see some floating objects, but they’re either too far away or the fog is too deep to recognize the shapes. The people at the table invite the girl to sit down with them. To her surprise they are also monsters, but they seem docile. They have human bodies up to their neck. But have fish heads instead. As she's sitting with them, she finally has time to catch her breath. She looks down to her hands only to realize her skin is changing color. Spreading from her fingers her skin is turning deep black. Shes so focused on her new discovery that she didn’t notice the fog around her was thinning out. It was revealed that the whole room was filled with floating corpses. Right in front of her on the ground, is sitting another person. She stares at her trying to figure out who that may be. As the fog fades away, she realizes this person looks exactly like her. The only difference being a hole in her stomach, with the insides spilling out. The monster starts to take out the guts and tries to untangle them with their hands and maintain eye contact with the girl the whole time. Terrified, the girl runs towards the door. As she's passing through the door, she looks back one last time to see the monsters waving to her.

After running for some time through the corridor with no escape she falls to the ground. She’s exhausted and terrified. The whole corridor starts to spiral and there's a terrifying noise ringing in her ears. She covers her ears with her hands and falls to her knees.

Suddenly the atmosphere changes from cold to warm. The whole room becomes brighter. When she looks up, she sees an angel standing right before her. It's so bright she can barely distinguish its shape. The angel holds out their hand and helps the girl stand up. The angel's hand is bright and warm, while the girl is almost fully black and cold. As they come closer in an embrace, the girl realizes the angel has the face of her friend that she met before the party. The angel pulls her closer as if for a kiss (resembling Klimt's “the kiss”). The girl leans in for a kiss, but instead the angel leans over and whispers in her ear “wake up”.

Everything flashes and the whole scene fades away. Something pushes her away and she falls to the ground. Losing consciousness.

She wakes up to loud, muffled notices and music around her. As she comes to, she realizes she’s back at the party. With her friend right next to her asking if she's alright. Confused, she takes a few seconds and responds with a smile.

0 notes

poisonedapples · 3 years

Text

Patton’s Home For Traumatized Kids - Chapter Five

Bad Memories Don’t Erase

Chapter Summary: Roman tags along with Logan and Virgil to hang out at their friend’s house.

First Chapter Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, stealing, and one inappropriate joke

Word Count: 4,008

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22, @pixelated-pineapple, @acrobaticcatfeline, @astrozei, @edupunkn00b, @princey-7258, @eternalmoonlight19, @remy-the-lemon-berry, @look-ma-im-on-tv, @mariniacipher, @bigwendymonster, @nonbinary-octopus

Notes: This chapter’s a little short, but the next one is gonna be really long, so hopefully that makes up for it

On Sunday the next day, Patton finally took Roman to buy his gym clothes. Roman was trying to hide a goofy smile while sitting in the back seat, desperate to not get his hopes up while also ecstatic his plan was working so far. He was going to have Patton stay in the car while Roman shopped for clothes! This had never worked on his dad before!

By the time Patton finally parked the car in the parking lot of the store, Roman’s chest felt weighted from his anxiety, waiting to see Patton’s final verdict. So long as he didn’t change his mind now, then Roman was in the clear. He hoped to be in the clear.

“Alright, kiddo,” Roman’s heart stopped as Patton pulled out his wallet and gave him some money. “Forty dollars should be more than enough for some pairs of gym pants and shirts. Give me back all the change when you come back, okay?”

“I will! Promise!” Roman wanted to jump for joy. It was working!

“Text me when you’re checking out so you don’t surprise me, and if you see something else you might want, just text me before you buy it so I know. Tell me if you have any issues, okay?”

“Okay!”

Patton smiled. “Go on then, kiddo.”

Roman practically leaped out the door to skip his way to the front entrance of the clothing store, two twenty dollar bills crumbled in his pocket. He got away with it! No parents staring him down while he changed outfits!

Roman walked into the store and tried to hide the skip in his step. With no parents to watch him, he could buy what he actually wanted to wear, no tight pants and scoop neck shirts. No, Roman wanted to look like his real goal. His goal of being a blob of cloth that vaguely resembled a human.

Granted, he’d mostly gotten there. His aunt replaced all of his wardrobe, so his current clothes were a lot more comfortable to wear even if they weren’t very fashionable. Mostly bright colored t-shirts and pants, maybe some shorts if they were able to reach down far enough. Maybe once he was more comfortable with himself he could actually test out more styles, but for now, oversized clothes were all he could handle.

Roman’s walk sped up slightly when his eyes landed on the men’s athletic section. He had to be quick with this, he didn’t want Patton getting impatient and coming in to check on him. Roman looked through the shorts and shirt sizes, easily finding a size up for a couple shirts while heavily struggling on the shorts. Roman groaned. It was always the shorts that caused the issue, they were always too high up. What if he was sitting down and the pant leg rode up too far? No, Roman refused to get something like that willingly.

Roman took all the athletic shorts that could fit him and held them up in front of his legs. Most of them only made it to his lower thigh, but he managed to find two shorts that made it to right below his knee. Roman smiled and bounced on his toes, grabbed his items and rushed to find a dressing room. Once he did, he rushed into the first empty area he saw and locked the door. The mirrors on the walls and gaps in the door made it hard for him to change comfortably, so instead Roman tried to press himself against the very corner of the room when he was changing.

Between the six shirts and two pants Roman found, he was pretty happy with most of his choices. Thankfully, the long shorts looked fine, so Roman hung them up on a hook with a sign over it saying I’m buying this! and considered it a success. However, when it got time to look at the shirts, only three of them were good enough for purchase. The white one he grabbed was practically see-through, and the other two had a scratchy inside material that Roman couldn’t stand, so they got put on the reject hook while the other three passed the test.

For a rushed shopping visit, Roman was pretty pleased with his choices. Two shorts might not be enough for five days worth of classes, but maybe Roman could keep one pair in his locker until it started to stink. Which might be a little gross, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Roman exited the dressing room and put his rejected shirts on a rack outside, carrying his other items to the checkout area. Before he got in line, he looked at all the price tags and added them up in his head best he could. The shirts were about six dollars each, and the shorts were a little over five after tax. Which means, adding up the extra cents, he’d have to pay twenty nine dollars for the clothes in total. Considering Patton gave him forty dollars, this was plenty.

Roman hesitated for a second. He stuffed his hand into his pocket to feel the money in the palm of his hand while he thought about his options. If he told Patton the truth, Roman would give him eleven dollars and there would be no issues. Patton might let him do this again next time they go shopping, too. But also…Roman had no backup plan. He was stuck with Patton with nowhere to go if things went wrong.

His aunt told him that Roman could always go back to her house if a guardian was abusing him, and he had every intention to take her up on that offer the second the opportunity arose. But even if Roman walked to her house on foot, he had no money for food during that trip. She lived so far away from him now, there was no way to get to safety without a dollar to his name. But if he stole some from Patton, then Roman could have a serious issue on his hands.

Roman slowly walked up to the check out area and handed the teenage worker the clothes. As she scanned all the items with a satisfying beep, Roman felt himself getting antsy. There’s no guarantee Patton will let me do this again. I’ve already gotten away with so much, and the more time I spend around him, the more danger I’m in. But if Patton notices I stole from him, he could be furious. Is there even a right answer here?

“Twenty nine dollars and thirty two cents.” The cashier said cheerfully. Roman handed her the money and she put it in the register, then handed Roman a bunch of coins, two five dollar bills, and a one dollar. She smiled. “Would you like a receipt?”

“Uh, no thank you.”

When the receipt printed, the cashier tore it out and threw it in the trash behind her. “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Roman squeaked, rushing away from the register to stare at the money. Apparently they ran out of ten dollar bills, because the money was split perfectly for taking without it being obvious. Roman considered this a sign to take his chance. He put a five dollar bill and a quarter in his left pocket and shoved the rest in his right. It wasn’t much, but he could build it up. This was only the beginning.

Roman walked out of the store and tried to act normal instead of anxious. Worst case scenario, he’d say he forgot to bring out the rest and give Patton the other bills. Giving away the quarter also would be too obvious, but he could get away with stealing that at least. When he made it to Patton's car, Roman opened the back seat and tossed his clothes next to him.

“Hey, kiddo!” Patton greeted, “Got any extra cash to give me?”

“Uh, yeah, here.” Roman dug into his right pocket to grab half the money and handed it to him. Patton put the coins in his pocket and put the two bills in his wallet. He didn’t seem to consider how much Roman gave him, instead he started backing out of the driveway and got distracted while reversing. Roman let out a quiet sigh of relief.

He felt the five dollars still stored in his pocket. He got away with it. For now.

***

“We’re home!” Patton announced as he and Roman stepped inside. Logan and Virgil were both lying on the couch, and Logan perked up from his spot.

“Wonderful. We wanted to ask both of you a question.” Logan said.

Patton seemed intrigued. “What question?”

“Can we go to Janus’ house, Pat?” Virgil asked.

“Oh, of course, kiddos! Do you know when you might be back?”

Virgil thought about it. “Probably at six before dinner.”

“Perfect! Just text me if that changes so I don’t worry, okay?”

“We will.” Logan reassured, “And Roman, would you like to come with us?”

Roman tilted his head to the side. “Me? I don’t even know who Janice is.”

Virgil sunk into the couch more. “Friend of ours. Has a snake, talks a lot about philosophy and books. Acts like a tired underaged wine aunt.”

“Right, well, still. Isn’t it a little strange for me to tag along to a stranger's house?” Roman pointed out.

“Janus wouldn’t mind, I’m sure.” Logan said. “Of course, you don’t have to, we simply figured you would like the invitation so you’re not the only one left out.”

Roman’s eyes widened when Logan said that. Wait, shit, if Logan and Virgil are going to this girl’s house, then Roman will be here. Alone. With Patton. Until six in the afternoon.

Roman’s mood change was almost instant. “Well then, perhaps I should go! Make new friends and establish bonds, or whatever!”

Virgil smirked. “Sweet. It’s a short walk, just a block away. Just let us grab our shoes and we can head out.”

“I’ll tell Janus we’ll be bringing a third party.”

Roman let out a breath of relief. As Virgil and Logan grabbed whatever they needed, Roman set his new bag of clothes in his room next to his backpack. He’d have to remember to put some boxers in there before tomorrow morning, too.

Roman felt the five dollars in his pocket again. He took the money and hid it deep in his backpack in a hidden pocket he hoped wasn’t too easy to find. Satisfied with that for now, Roman stepped back outside of his room and waited for the others.

Once everyone was situated, Virgil called out to let Patton know they were leaving the house and then closed the door. Logan and Virgil did most of the talking as they walked while Roman just listened, following behind them and letting the two lead the way.

“Oh, and Roman,” Logan suddenly said during a point of silence, “Another one of our friends may also show up later at Janus’ house. He said he might be coming, so we’ll see.”

Roman shrugged. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Alright.”

No one said anything else after that on the walk. After a while, Virgil and Logan stopped in front of a house and started walking up the driveway to the front door. As Virgil knocked on the door, Roman stood awkwardly off to the side until someone answered.

It wasn’t long before the door swung open, showing a teenage kid with a large birthmark under his left eye. He rested his elbow on the top of the black and yellow cane next to him and smirked. Was he the brother, perhaps?

“I’ve been expecting you.” He said menacingly.

“‘Sup, fucker.” Virgil greeted.

“Hello, Janus.”

Wait, what? Against his better judgment, Roman forced himself to stand in front of Logan to face Janus. “Wait, your name is Janice?” He asked.

Janus put his hand on his face. “Janus. It’s Janus. J-a-n-u-s, not the old lady name Janice.”

Roman felt his face grow hot. “…Oh. Well, uh…”

Janus rolled his eyes and held the door open wider. “Just come inside.”

Virgil was the first to step in, with Logan following after while Roman hesitated. He made an awful first impression, maybe he should just walk around the block for a while instead-

“Come on, my arm is tired.” Janus coaxed. Roman felt too awkward to walk away, so he instead sucked it up and stepped inside the house with everyone else.

The house was quite nice. The walls were painted dark and the carpet was red, but it looked nice in a Victorian era kind of way. On the living room coffee table were piles of fabric and a sewing machine, seemingly making something that looked like a suit. Janus took the cane he was holding and threw it onto the couch. Well, apparently it was just a part of the outfit.

Virgil motioned to all the fabric on the table. “Fuck are you making now, dude?”

“I’m making the refined villain look of my dreams.”

“Nice. When do you think you’ll finish it?”

“Possibly tomorrow. I’ll start on it again after school.”

“Do you make your own clothes?” Roman asked, hoping to distract himself from his previous embarrassment.

Janus smiled slightly. “Less clothes, more costumes. Mostly for myself, but sometimes I make them for the high school’s theater when I’m feeling generous.”

“Oh, that sounds fun!”

“Wanna see Janus’ costume closet?” Virgil asked.

Roman shrugged. “If he wants me to.”

“Oh yeah, just talk about me like I’m not here.” Janus rolled his eyes and motioned for everyone to follow him. He had a downstairs family room with a closet off to the side. Once everyone was downstairs, Janus opened it and let Roman look inside.

“…Woah.” Roman looked at all the costumes, astonished and full of wonder. A lot of them were very extravagant, like they were specifically designed for a dramatic person, so Roman felt a calling toward them. He took a few of them off their hangers to look at; roaring twenties inspired suits and a black dresses with fancy gold finishes. Roman ran his hand on the fabric like they were fancy relics.

“They are quite high-quality.” Logan said, “Costume design is certainly one of Janus’ greatest skills.”

“I can see that.” Roman whispered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Don’t make his ego bigger than it already is.”

“Oh no, please do continue, I’m designed to be the center of attention.” Janus smirked.

Roman laughed and put the costumes back on the rack. It seemed like him and Janus were pretty similar in personality, just on opposite ends of the spectrum. Both dramatic artists, except one likes to add that with tons of sarcasm. He could see them getting along quite easily.

“Also, Janus,” Virgil said while looking at his phone, “Rat bastard says he’s coming over. He’ll be here in ten.”

“Ugh, fine. I was getting used to the silence.” Janus sighed.

“…Who’s rat bastard?” Roman asked.

“Friend of ours.” Virgil replied, “You’ll meet him in a bit. He’s a rat bastard. Smells vaguely of cheese.”

“…Attractive.”

“You get used to it.” Janus shrugged. He then smirked at Roman like he got an idea. “Would you like to see my snake?”

Roman’s eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Janus led them all upstairs to his bedroom, Roman following last in the line so he could keep Janus’ door cracked open. As he stepped inside, he noticed a very large cage on the wall to his right. It was very long with lots of wood decorations spread across the container, with a fluorescent lightbulb above it. Roman looked around in the enclosure to try and spot the snake.

Before he could find it, Janus opened the top and stuck his hand in the cage. The snake climbed up his hand onto his arm, and as Janus stuck him out for Roman to see, Roman jumped back.

Janus rolled his eyes. “He’s a corn snake, he’s not known for hurting people.”

Roman still looked at it from a distance. The snake was large enough that Janus had to hold him with both hands, as well as being a mesmerizing yellow color. Roman never had a friend with a pet snake before. “…What’s his name?”

“Lawrence.”

“Nerd.” Virgil called out.

Logan smiled. “I think it is a wonderful name. Lawrence Kohlberg developed the theory on moral development, the very basis for ethical behavior.”

“Nerds.”

“You’re very mature, Virgil.”

Roman ignored them. “I think he’s cool. How old is he?”

“About five. I’ve had him for a while now.”

A buzz came from Virgil’s phone, making him check it and read the message. “Rat bastard says he’s outside your door.” He announced.

Janus didn’t seem rushed. “He can get in on his own.”

Roman laughed, and Janus set Lawrence back in his enclosure so he could bask underneath the heat lamp. Roman still watched his movements from inside the cage. “I wish I had a pet.”

“Patton would get you a dog in seconds if you asked.” Logan suggested.

Roman shook his head. “It’s fine, I won’t ask.” He didn’t really know what kind of pet he even wanted, and besides, it’s not like he’d be able to keep it once he leaves Patton’s house. There was no point.

Suddenly, a loud stomping came from the stairs outside Janus’ bedroom. Roman yelped and ran to hide behind Janus in the corner of the room, but the others didn’t react.

Roman sputtered. “What the-”

Before Roman could finish, a large bang came as someone kicked open the door and let it smack into the wall.

“I’m back by unpopular demand!”

“Hello, Remus.”

Roman completely froze up at the sound of that name. He turned around to look at the person that just busted down Janus’ bedroom door, a kid with messy hair and peach fuzz for a mustache, ripped jeans in the summer with a cast boot on his right foot.

Roman felt himself choke on air as he processed what was in front of him.

“Slugs are goopy like jello! So jello is made of slugs, duh!”

“Remus, that’s gross! No one would make food out of slugs!”

“What’s up, fuckers!” Remus announced. “I’m back from the pits of hell! Also known as the emergency room.”

Roman didn’t say anything, only stared at him in disbelief. Remus’ voice was a lot different now. He’d hit puberty, so the pitch had dropped a lot from what Roman was used to. A tuft of his hair was white, also. Roman couldn’t tell if it was dye or a condition.

That piece of hair and Remus’ mustache were the only things that made them both look apart now.

“What actually happened?” Logan asked. “You never told us specifics.”

“I broke my foot sucking too much-”

“Remus.” Janus warned.

“Fine, fine. I tripped trying to run up some steps and my fall didn’t look badass at all. Don’t tell people that though. If anyone asks, I broke it running from the cops.”

Janus nodded and smirked. “Noted.”

“We brought a third foster brother, also.” Virgil noted. Roman stopped breathing.

“Oh, really? Shit, I fuckin missed everything!” Roman looked in the corner trying to avoid Remus noticing him, but it was never that easy. “Why hello, welcome to our humble- …Oh, fuck.”

Remus tilted his head to make eye contact with Roman, and the surprise on Remus’ face was something Roman would never forget. He seemed genuinely baffled, like nothing in the world would have prepared him for what he saw. Roman wanted to cry.

I wanted to leave behind these people.

“…Roman?” Remus finally said, “Dude, holy fuck, I haven’t seen you in forever!”

“Wait,” Virgil staggered, “You know each other already?”

“He’s my fucking cousin!” Remus exclaimed. “Come on, look at us, we’re only a little related but we look like twins!”

Logan turned to Roman. “Is this true?”

Roman could feel the tears ready to burst. His throat was scratchy, but he tried to talk anyway. “…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Princey, don’t be shy!” Remus teased. “We used to be best friends, let everyone believe we were twins until our moms called our shit out. Absolute bastard children- …wait. Wait a fucking second.”

“What is it?” Janus asked.

Remus turned to Virgil and Logan with a shocked and confused face. “…You said he’s your foster brother?”

Logan nodded. “That is correct.”

Remus turned to Roman, seemingly at a loss for words. “…Dude, the fuck? What happened?”

Roman looked at the floor, gripping onto his arm so hard it’d be a miracle if there weren’t marks later. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I mean, I know I haven’t seen you since your mom fucked off to Neverland, but what happened to your dad? He’s still alive and shit isn’t he? The hell happened?”

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” Roman seethed, grinding his teeth together as he practically growled out that sentence.

Virgil flinched violently. “Roman-”

“Whatever!” Roman pushed Remus off to the side and kicked the door fully open, storming his way down the stairs despite the sounds of people yelling for him to come back. Roman stomped out the front door and took a sprint for it down the block, not caring if he had to be alone with Patton, so long as he wasn’t here.

“I bet you would eat a slug!”

“No I wouldn’t! Liar!”

“Boys, boys!” Roman’s mother laughed, crouching down to meet their eye level from their place sitting in the grass. “No eating slugs. Be nice to the bugs or we’ll go back inside.”

“Yeah, Remus!”

Remus huffed. “I’m not doing anything!”

“Not yet!”

Roman’s mother laughed again. “I’m going to help Uncle André with dinner. But I better not hear a fight, okay?”

“Okay!” Roman promised, watching as his mom went back inside his uncle’s house into the kitchen. Roman and Remus continued to play in the grass by looking at bugs and telling stories to each other, making Roman smile more than he has in a long time. He always loved going to Remus’ house. His dad never came with them, so he and his mom were always happier.

“How come we never go to your house?” Remus eventually asked after a few minutes of playing. Roman stuck his tongue out.

“‘Cause our house is tiny and the backyard isn’t as cool.”

“Still! When you come over, you never bring Uncle Theo!”

“Good!” Roman defended, “Dad’s boring so he doesn't getta come!”

“I like him! He’s fun and nice and always brings chocolate!”

“He’s awful!” Roman covered his mouth after he blurted that out. Remus gave him a look.

“He’s not awful!”

Roman looked over to the glass sliding door. His mom was in there, he could see her, but she couldn’t hear him. Maybe he could get away with it. He could tell Remus a secret and his mom would never find out.

Roman hesitantly took his hands away from his mouth. His tone grew to be a lot softer. “…He is, though.”

Remus tilted his head to the side like a dog. “What makes him awful?”

“…Promise not to tell anyone?”

Remus leaned in closer. “Uh huh!”

“No one at all, ever?”

“Triple quadruple promise!”

Roman looked back at his mom. She wasn’t paying attention to him, seemingly talking to his uncle and pouring juice into cups. Roman hesitated for a moment. “…My dad-”

“Boys! Dinner’s ready!” Roman’s mom called out, making Roman jump almost a foot in the air. Both of them got off of the grass to walk inside, but before they did, Remus turned to Roman again.

“Your dad what?”

“…Nevermind.” He missed his chance. Remus would never find out, and Roman never told anyone for another five years.

Roman ran faster down the street at the memory, fighting back the tears in his eyes. It was fine. Roman was fine.

He never wanted to talk to Remus again.

#roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #thomas sanders #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ts remus #ts janus #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #foster au #implied past abuse #past abuse #stealing

150 notes · View notes

13uswntimagines · 4 years

Text

Your Ass Is Out of This World (Kelley x Reader)

Request: alex or kelley or sonnett x reader where they've been dating for a few years R is an astronaut for NASA and she gets to go to space

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog cause without her, none of this would have happened.

Kelley wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up standing next to a dive bar sipping a lukewarm beer on a Friday night. In her defense, Ali and Ashlyn had convinced her it would be fun and had promised to pay for the Uber rides both ways. It had been fun for a while, dancing with them to some old 70s songs on the light-up dance floor, but half an hour ago they had disappeared off into a hallway somewhere, and she had no intention of third-wheeling (she knew she should have convinced Alex to join them). But she also wasn’t going to leave without them, because she wasn’t convinced either of them were sober enough to take any kind of transportation safely (someone needed to be there to make sure they didn’t puke in someone’s car).

So here she was, standing by the bar waiting for her friends’ sexcapades to be over, nursing her drink. The clink of a glass settling in front of her caught her attention. She blinked at the bartender. “I didn’t order another one,”

The man’s lips ticked up and he shrugged. “Lady on the end paid for it. Said you looked sad,”

Kelley looked up, following the man’s eyes towards a woman standing a few seats down the bar from her. She was also standing alone but was dressed as though for a different event altogether. Kelley had embraced the 70s theme of the bar slightly, wearing a jumpsuit and a scarf around her head, but this woman had just thrown a white NASA shirt--like the one Kelley got for her little cousin at Target-- over a pair of black jeans. As she bobbed her head to the music she met Kelley’s eyes and smiled.

Kelley took that as her invitation to approach. Kelley’s eyes traced her form, lingering on the white material. She didn’t know those came in adult sizes...

“You must be a star, I can't stop orbiting around you” Kelley smiled charmingly as she approached you, setting her beer on the bar beside you and settling in the seat to the left of yours.

“I do believe I was the one to buy you the drink…” you said, your lips twitching as you tried to keep a serious expression. “Shouldn’t I be the one throwing pickup lines here?”

“You bought me the drink, so I get to be the one to woo you. I’m Kelley, are you from Mars? 'cuz I wanna explore you with curiosity.” Kelley said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, enjoying the light blush coloring your cheeks.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “that was terrible. I mean really good but absolutely awful.”

“At least I got you to smile, but you still haven’t told me your name.” Kelley laughed, taking a sip of her beer. She was prepared to lay on the horrible pick up lines for your entertainment.

“I’m Y/n,” you said, putting down your drink and holding out your hand, “pleasure.”

“They call me the milky way...Pleasure You Can't Measure,” Kelley smiled, shaking your hand as you laughed and pulling you a little closer “Why look at the moon, if I can’t touch it? Why look at your lips, if I can't kiss them,” she said, winking so you knew she was completely joking.

“How do you know so many of these?” You said, shaking your head in awe. “ All I know off the top of my head is ‘do you work for NASA? Because you’re out of this world!’”

“Ah, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Kelley whispered conspiratoryly, bringing her hand up to cover her lips. “but my team and I have definitely had flirt offs for bonding nights,”

“Your team?”

“Yeah, I play soccer for the US and Washington,” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge accomplishment.

Your eyes widened and you nearly spat out your drink. “Didn’t they, like, just win a World Cup?”

“Yeah, No biggie,” Kelley said, side-eyeing you as she took another sip.

“No biggie? I’m surprised you don’t have a swarm of paparazzi shadowing you, that’s incredible! Weren’t the USWNT like the most successful US team in soccer?’

“Hm, there’s not enough drama for them, but we don’t mind. How about you? What do you do beautiful?” Kelley hummed.

“Oh. I work for NASA,” you said, gesturing at the shirt. “I can’t wait to bring some of those lines back to work.”

“What??”

****

“So do they at least give you a good choice of flavors? So you don’t get bored and stuff?” Emily asked from across the table, licking her dripping I cream cone.

When your girlfriend decided to introduce you to the team after their match against Colombia, you were quite surprised she had chosen an ice cream shop as a venue. But with how food motivated the youngins seemed, you realized how appropriate it was.

“I mean,” you said, your spoon suspended in the air as you blinked at Emily, “ice cream isn’t the only thing we will eat. I’m going to be on the station for like 8 months. Ice cream is not a balanced diet.”

“But it’s the only one they sell in the stores. You don’t have to lie cause the veggie lovers are here,” The defender said, leaning across the table, as though it would prevent the rest of the table from hearing her.

“Babe, you literally love most veggies too,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, using her thumb to wipe a spot of chocolate ice cream from Emily’s nose.

“Actually, I heard they’re a pretty good selection of dehydrated fruits and veggies and MRE’s and Tortillas and stuff. Plus I get to take a few things from home…” You mumbled, leaning back.

She couldn’t be serious right? There was no way she thought you were supposed to sustain yourself on horrible freeze-dried dairy products for that long. Not to mention, freeze-dried ‘astronaut’ products for the most part weren’t actually possible to bring to space, with how crumbly they are. You were more likely to eat actual ice cream on the space station (less chance for an errant crumb being inhaled or destroying an important piece of equipment) than that gift shop garbage.

“Oh yeah, MRE sounds way more likely than just eating the stuff they literally label as being for astronauts…” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “What does that even stand for? ‘Must reject Emily?”

You opened your mouth to answer, eyebrows furrowed, only for Kelley to nudge you softly.

“It’s not worth the fight babe, trust me. Not the brightest lighthouse if you know what I mean,” Your girlfriend made a swirling motion with her finger next to her temple.

You leaned in closer so your lips were nearly touching her ear. “She’s not serious right?”

“I never joke about ice cream,” Emily answered seriously.

You blinked at her, looking to your girlfriend who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows.

“I’m, I’m not sure if they have a flavor rotation system for ice cream flavors. We haven’t been… briefed on that yet,” you nodded seriously.

…...

“Can you hear me?” Kelley said, tapping her fingers impatiently as your face appeared in the video call.

“He- -utiful,” You smiled through the glitchy computer screen. Your waving was broken up like a bad claymation. You leaned in to make out the fuzzy figures standing behind your girlfriend, assuming she was at camp or something.

Normal long distance sucked, but literally being off-planet really made things difficult. It wasn’t like Kelley could just text you when she missed you, or randomly call you when she missed you at 3 am. Sure, she could email and you made a tremendous effort to schedule calls once a month, but it was still incredibly difficult (and slightly weird that a NASA tech dude had to monitor each call to make sure the connection stayed up). And sometimes even the best video-calling technology had issues. Like today (when a giant satellite or piece of space trash would block the signal).

“Are you hav- -un at -amp?” You asked, grabbing your floating water pouch pushing out a sip sized water drop.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Kelley said, watching you munch on your water. When you first got on the station you sent her pictures of artwork you made out of different drops of colored water- specifically making a giant water ‘soccer ball’ for her. Then you tried to boop it around and ended up losing control, amusing all your crewmates who watched you trying not to run into too many walls. “We’re looking forward to playing against Brazil on Friday, should be brutal.”

“We’re set to be ov- Florida on -day, so I’ll try and tune into the ga-. Catch a nice - view,” You nodded, wiggling your eyebrows (which looked more like you having a seizure due to how badly you were pixelated).

While Kelley wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying, she went ahead and nodded. “Let me know what you think!”

“Wh- color -it are you w-ing? Y- look -uper s-xy in the -ue,” you said, floating up in a ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose.

“You’re favorite one,” Kelley said, winking at you.

“-es!!” You cheered “-ake p-ture -or -“ the screen flickered dangerously for a second. Before a wobbly picture returned.

“Babe you’re breaking up, I can’t tell what you’re saying. Y/n. Are you there? UGh. I love you! We’ll talk soon.”

“-ove y- -oo”

Kelley blew a slow kiss to her camera before she heard a deep voice saying “Sorry ma’am. The connection was lost. Y’all still have five minutes on your scheduled call- Want me to try calling again? See if the signal improves?”

“Yeah,” Kelley shifted, rubbing the bridge of her nose as typing sounds echoed through the speaker. How she was going to make it through four more months of this she had no idea.

“What if like the ship was attacked by aliens or something,” Sonnett whispered from her left, staring at the blank screen with real trepidation.

“Not possible ma’am,” she heard him laugh. “But I doubt I would have the right level of security clearance to know.”

“great.”

Kelley grabbed a pen and marked a day off the calendar hanging on her wall. So much for ‘phone call with Y/n.’ She sighed. Just a few months to go.

****

Gravity fucking sucked. It was disorienting and heavy and made you sick to your stomach. Space station alums always talked about re-entry and how bad that was, but you thought sitting in a NASA hospital bed while your equilibrium readjusted was way worse than your fireball craft plummeting into the ocean.

“This fucking sucks,” You groaned, again throwing your hand over to pull out the IV. You hated how hard it was to move (and how you actually had to hold up a cup of water to get a drink but that was beside the point).

“Whoa babe, I know you’re a little out of it right now, but that has to stay in. Just try and relax for a little while,” Kelley said, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles.

You frowned at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t wanna be here. Wanna be home with you.”

“I know, but you gotta stay here until the re-entry symptoms have worn off a little more,” She said again. She knew that you weren’t going to be 100% when you stepped out of the spacecraft, but she hadn’t expected you to be so out of it. You were sick to your stomach and entirely unable to walk without assistance.

The doctors assured her that you would be fine (residual effects from not being in gravity for so long and the impact of the landing or whatever), but it was still difficult to watch. It didn’t help that you were a horrendous patient.

“Just watch the game. The US is even in Blue,” Kelley tried to coax. Even she was beginning to grow restless. But you couldn’t leave until you could keep down solid foods.

“I don’t want to watch. You’re not in it,” You said, grabbing the remote from her and turning the television off. Then you tried to set the remote in the air, but instead of hovering like it should have done, it dropped to the ground.

“Alright, commander Y/l/n. It’s dinner time,” one of the NASA hospital nurses said, bringing in a tray for you. Kelley thanked them as they left since you were too dazed to think of it.

“God this food sucks, I hate jello ” you grumbled, lifting the spoon in front of your face (fully expecting it to float so you could take your bite) and dropping it as you want to open the pudding packet instead. “I just want a big juicy cheeseburger. With bacon and onions and-“ You trailed off, your mouth watering at the thought. You hadn’t had proper food in 8 months, and it had been your major cravings food.

“A side of diabetes” she scoffed, picking up the discarded remote and spoon, “And are you going to keep dropping things everywhere?” She asked, carefully filling a spoon with chocolate pudding and guiding it to your mouth.

“Fuck Newton. Things are supposed to float,”

****

You loved the soft skin behind Kelley’s ear. It was so smooth, and it always smelt like a mix of her perfume, shampoo, and something inherently Kelley. It was a bonus that your exploration of the area always sent a shiver down her spine. You ran your nose along the skin there, nibbling on her ear before moving down her neck. Leaving little kisses along your path. Kelley sighed, sleepily scratching your scalp and tilting her head to the side to encourage you to continue.

“You,” Kelley said. “ I like you.”

“Hm, I’m glad. It would be kinda scary if you were doing this with someone you didn’t like,” you mumbled against her skin, unwilling to part with it for even a moment. Kelley giggled at the tickling sensation. How you still had so much energy after you had thoroughly worn her out getting… reacquainted she would never know.

“But what do you like most. Tell me, babe,” You said, moving your lips a little lower, towards where her shoulder and neck met.

“I love… your ass. It’s out of this world.” She said sleepily, reaching around to grab her favorite asset of yours.

“Well, it has been,” You laughed, pulling away reluctantly so you could look her in the eyes.

“Shut up you goof,” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and whacking you lightly. You fell over dramatically, pulling her so she was on top of you.

“Hm, I’m your goof,”

“Yeah. You are. And babe?” She smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

“Hmm?” You hummed against her lips. She leaned back to look you in the eyes, one forearm across your chest and her other hand beside your head supporting her.

“No more space travel for a while?”

“Pinky promise,” You said, wiggling your hand so your littlest finger connected with hers.

“Good. I can’t believe I was dating someone from TEXAS for a while.” Kelley pretended to shudder. “Jus think, one of your coworkers might have been a Houston dash supporter!”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #literalhedgehog #kelley o'hara x reader #kelley o'hara imagine

404 notes · View notes

vibesandwonders · 3 years

Text

a tie that binds

Rhodey looks between the two of them; both grinning with unsettling glee. They barely waited for him to retract his helmet before making their request.

“How did you even know I can legally—”

“We’re past that.” Sam interrupts, he’s bleeding from a cut above his eye. Bucky notices it with an eye roll, and, —quite literally— slaps a bandage on it. “We just wanna know if you’ll do it.”

“And if you say no we’ll post about it.” Bucky adds. The buildings behind them smoke. Local authorities had been given the all-clear and are already raiding and arresting. “Instagram and Twitter will come for your ass.” He says with scary confidence.

Rhodey’s mouth snaps shut with an audible click. “You serious?” He asks.

“As a heart attack.”

“As the fuckin’ grave.” They answer in a horrifying tandem.

“Right here?” He watches Bucky move a knife from the inside of his wrist to his ankle for no visible reason. Sam’s only half-listening as Torres and Doppler give up-to-the-minute updates on the situation post-raid.

“Why not?” Buck asks.

Rhodey gives a half hearted gesture at their surroundings.

“We were gonna do a big thing.” Sam says, by way of explanation, “You know, invite all of our closest friends.”

“Enemies too.” Bucky adds, “Give ‘em a solid chance to take a potshot. Maybe take a couple of them down, kind of a two-for-one deal.”

“Wedding present to each other. Good shit like that.” Sam finishes. “But then Barnes here took an armor piercing round to the shoulder.” Bucky turns and shows the massive tear in his jacket on the vibranium arm side.

“And we figured. Life is short,” Sam says.

“—And you are hot.” Bucky quotes with a cheeky tilt to his mouth.

“We’ve been watching Doctor Who ,” Sam explains quickly to Rhodey.

“It’s been around almost as long as me.” Bucky says proudly. “I get to explain pop-culture references to Sam.”

“Research for the time/universe bullshit.”

“Timey-wimey—”

“ Please stop ,” Rhodey begs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And frankly, I don’t want you to explain.” He adds quickly. “I like not being a nerd-ass virgin.” Cuts himself off when he suddenly remembers that he’s somehow officiating their wedding; and has very-recently been witness to their oblivious R-rated behavior. A muscle in his eye twitches.

Sam blinks, then plows ahead unbothered. “Might as well make it official while we’re both young and have all our pieces.”

“Mostly,” Bucky reminds him, waves casually with his prosthetic, waggling his fingers dramatically.

“Fuck you, jackass.” Sam mouths happily. Bucky flips him off.

“Ya’ll got a real messed up thing going.” Rhodey says, reminding them that he’s definitely still in the middle of all this.. “But uh congratulations, I think, Future Wilsons? Barneses?”

There’s the pop of gunfire in the distance. All three heads snap that way, three sets of hands going for various weapons.

“So you’ll do it?” Sam asks, when a quick radio signal indicates that the situation was safe again. They can see the glow of some sort of magic still inside the building.

Fucking multiverse.

“I mean…” Rhodes sighs. “Yeah.”

Sam nods. “You mind if I facetime Sarah and the kids?”

“You’re kidding right?” Rhodey knows the answer. “She can’t be a witness if she’s not physically present—”

“Yeah.” Bucky acknowledges, “We know. I googled it.”

Sam looks pleased and surprised. “When?”

“After we finished clearing out the cult members inside the entry-way.” He shrugs, “There was a lull.”

“I knew getting you that phone was a good idea.”

Rhodey clears his throat. Bucky throws up his hand, “Yeah yeah, I remember, witnesses. Uh…” He looks around, makes eye-contact with a helmeted figure; rattles off something in quick, confident hungarian. Sam fights the urge to find it distractingly hot and fails. The man in SWAT gear stops, halting the prisoner in front of him. Rhodey and Sam wait for the conversation to end. Bucky’s speaking fast and grinning sort of sheepishly. There’s a quick bark of laughter from beneath the helmet.

“He says he’ll witness.” Bucky says.

“I now pronounce you husband and hus—” There’s a breathtaking flash of color that they’ve all begun to recognize as magic and/or multiverse fuckery, of course, it comes from over where the Multiverse cult had been performing their ritual, cutting off Sunny’s quick, joyful cheer. She’s holding Alpine and waving her little paws in her little videochat square. Zahra adds something over comms in persian and it makes Bucky blush.

“Ah fuck.” Sam murmurs, “Can’t give us five goddamn minutes to get hitched?”

Bucky squeezes his hand. “Could just let Strange and his people handle it?”

“Look at you acting like you wanna miss out on all the fun.” Sam rolls his eyes. “Sarah?” He says to the screen that the hungarian SWAT officer is holding. “We gotta go."

“Be safe you two,” she says all pixelated. “Or I'll kick your asses.”

Bucky waves and thanks the soldier who hands him his phone and kisses them both unexpectedly on the cheek.

Rhodey watches the whole thing in barely suppressed horror and fascination.

“You ready Cap?” He asks. Sam’s wings unfurl next to him. Torres is saying something about a big-ass, post-wedding party when they get home.

“You two have rings? Or is this uh, a purely gentleman’s handshake kinda deal?”

Sam scratches his head. “Well, uh—”

Bucky shyly pulls a small box from somewhere and tosses it to Sam. “I mighta called in a favor with Shuri—”

Sam opens it, finds a slim band made of a familiar gold metal. Bucky pulls his glove off and wiggles his fingers.

“Figured this’d be easier,” he says. Pointing smugly at the link of metal that had been swapped for gold on his left ring finger. “She took one outta my hand and made yours.” He adds. “I’ve just been uh, waiting for the right moment.”

“Ya’ll done?” Rhoday says tiredly.

Sam winks, pulls Bucky in for a kiss that makes Rhodey groan with annoyance and avert his eyes; slips him a little tongue just to be annoying. Torres (and the rest of the Little Howlers) whoop over the comms. He pulls back. Both now a little breathless, can’t resist, goes in for another. Shorter. Sweeter. The edge of Bucky’s mouth quirks up.

He tilts, looks a little past Sam’s face, pulls a pistol and fires a shot off behind them. Rhodey watches a figure fall from a hidden vantage point too-far for any normal human to hit. The barrel smokes softly.

Sam’s eyes darken, mouth dry. He swallows.

Honestly. Murder Husband hot.

Husband.

And there are no other thoughts for a solid 5 seconds.

“We are in active combat.” Rhodey reminds them, mostly for his sake. They separate hesitantly.

“Don’t do any dumb shit and make me a young widow, okay Barnes?” Sam calls over his shoulder, and then he’s blazing toward a wide wall of shimmering power starting to erode and expand out of the building. Bucky rolls his eyes at Rhodey and takes off running, calling after the winged silhouette.

“It’s young widower asshole.”

I'm on ao3 too :)

the series here

#bucky x sam #sambucky #winterfalcon #sam/bucky #bucky/sam #sam x bucky #the falcon and the winter soldier #captain America and the winter soldier #tfatws fic #caatws fic #enemies to friends to lovers to husbands #just kiss #marvel fic #its all au now #one shot #Rhodey is so tired of them

87 notes · View notes