#i've put way too much energy and time into wording this why do i bother

[meanbossart]

ASK TIME, sorry for the delay!

What's more serious than two men glistening under the sun smashing balls together in a grease pit (thank you also!)

I'll be honest with you guys, sometimes I don't know if I SHOULD answer to these because, well, It must come across as trite after a point to keep expressing my gratitude over and over, but I can't just leave them sitting in the inbox either. I'm so flattered by every single word of encouragement and compliment I get on my art, characters, or writing, the fact you guys who are strangers to me as I am to you decide to take the time to give me a little pat on the back or leave me a funny message is just incredibly sweet. So, thank you so much - the amount of messages can be a little overwhelming so please just know that even If I don't reply, I read it, and it put a smile on my face.

Thank you for checking out Sad Sack and our comics! Hopefully it wasn't too shocking an experience considering how I've since become an Elves Holding Hands And Bullying Wizards kind of artist LOL Not that me and barbatus don't have more work in that genre we plan to do (though admittedly nothing that comes close to the level of brutality in Sad Sack), but YOU KNOW... I realize that, if people found my ASS GRAB COMIC to be scandalous then me and my partner's comics might just put someone in the hospital if they were to stumble across it unprepared lmao

I'm glad to hear the experience was overall a net positive though, and ESPECIALLY that it inspired you to pursue your own projects! I definitely second the sentiment that the least that we (We as in people who were in the dumb edgy circles you described when we were younger) can do with all that bullshit we exposed ourselves to is to try and kindle some creative flame out of it, within reason, of course.

If you ever finish this comic you're thinking of working on, please link it my way if you are comfortable with doing so! I would love to see it.

BONUS:

Guys I have like 3 messages asking if I played fear and hunger. It's okay, you aren't obligated to have read every single thing I ever posted to find out I literally have a F&H tattoo, that doesn't bother me, I just wanna ask, sincerely, why does that come up so often. WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO SAY TO ME. DO I EMANATE FEAR AND HUNGER ENERGY. DOES IT SEEP OUT MY PORES ONTO MY OILY FINGERTIPS OVER THE KEYS OF THIS KEYBOARD AND ACROSS THE WORLD WIDE WEB? WHAT'S GOING ON.

[yellowkitkieran]

Boyfriend (Kieran Tierney)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You and Kieran are on different pages regarding your situationship, which leaves both of you broken hearted.

Hunting for your trousers in a man's bedroom should heart your cheeks with shame. This is relatively normal for you now though, having hooked up with Kieran more times than you can count- and only twice having been invited to stay ren'night in the guest bedroom. 

“They're here,” Kieran says and tosses a pair of jeans your way. “Can you pass me my kit bag? Thanks.”

Kieran rushing out after sex has become commonplace. It stings a little less each time, though it has yet to fully fade. Your phone chimes, and you pick it up to see a message from a dating app, confirming the time for your impromptu dinner later tonight.

“Who's that?” Kieran says, tossing shirts from his closet to his bed. He doesn't bother to fold them because he isn't concerned with wrinkles. 

“Just some guy I've got a date with.” You keep your eyes on your phone and your voice even. This is new- up until now, you've remained fixated on Kieran. You only downloaded the app with the hope that it would kick Kieran's arse into high gear and prompt him to finally ask you out. 

“Sorry, did you say date?” Kieran blinks and turns towards you when you nod. “With who? Why?”

“Some bloke I met on an app- why do you care?”

“Because I don't want anyone else touching you, that's why. You aren't supposed to be dating anyone.” 

That sets you off. You purse your lips, vision tinting red. Who does he think he is? you've provided him with countless chances and he has squandered each and every one of them. “You aren't my boyfriend. Why does it matter if I go on a date with someone else?”

With all the patience of a parent speaking to an unruly child, Kieran pinches the bridge of his nose. “Because…” Each word comes loose like pulling teeth. “Because-”

“Because what Kieran?! Spit it out!” You're tired of waiting. For a date, for affection, for a finished sentence. You deserve to be put first for once, not cast aside like an out of date toy. 

“Because I don't want you to be with anyone else! Alright? There- are you happy?”

“Well for fucks sake Kieran! Do something about it then!” You're on your feet now, pacing the length of the room. There is far too much energy bundled up inside of you. Kieran's confession has spurred you into a frenzy and awoken the storm that has been brewing for weeks.  

Kieran shakes his head and continues stuffing things in his bag. “I'm not doing this right now. I have a plane to catch.”

How can he be so indifferent? The Kieran you know has a soft, tender heart. Now it is as if his is made of stone, the organ sitting solid and impenetrable in his chest. Doesn't he care? Doesn't this eat at him the same way it has eaten at you?

“I just don't want to think about this when I'm going to be in Scotland for a while-” 

“Where you'll probably spend the next two weeks snogging other women and letting them grind their arses on you in clubs.” The words are poison tipped, turning his own jealousy back onto the man himself. “Lord knows you won't be loyal, you'll neck the first bird who smiles at you.”

“I haven't so much as looked at another woman in months,” Kieran snaps. He stands at his full height now, his muscular frame filling your vision. You hold your ground, glaring up into his chocolate brown eyes that currently lack the sparkle you've grown to enjoy. Now they are filled with ire instead of affection and you are disturbed to discover how much that hurts you. 

“Liar. You're a liar Kieran Tierney, last week there were rumors, I saw-” 

“There's always gonna be rumors! We could be married and there would still be rumors about some model or influencer or someone that has paid tabloids to say they saw us together!” Kieran runs a hand through his hair. His laugh carries no humor, “and I know you can't handle it, which is why I agreed to things being casual!”

“Oh, you know I can't handle it, do you?” Tears prick your eyes as tears threaten to spill down your cheeks. You refuse to give Kieran the satisfaction of seeing how deeply he's wounded you. “You always assume. You assume I want to see you, assume I can't handle pressure, assume I'd rather be nothing more than fuck buddies, someone you can call in the middle of the night after a loss. But you know what? I'm done, Kieran. I'm done.”

“Just like that then? You're walking away from me?” Kieran tips his head back and the laugh that spills from him is not one you recognize. You aren't sure if it's pain, or maybe disbelief. You can scarcely believe it yourself; five minutes ago you were ready to cancel a date on his behalf. Now, you wouldn't dream of something like that ever again. 

You grab your coat off his bed and sling it over your shoulders. “Yep, just like that. Last chance Kieran.” 

“Just get out,” Kieran half growls. His back is already to you, which is just one more reason for you to go. Against your will, your feet remain rooted to the spot- you don't want to leave. What you want is for Kieran to fight for you, or maybe beg for forgiveness. You know in your heart that you haven't imagined the spark between you. That one night he took you out for a drink, there had been a genuine connection. You know that if he would get his head straight, he would recognize it.

But you value yourself too highly to remain in a situation where there is no progress. For months you've entertained this situationship in hopes that one day soon Kieran might wisen up and ask you on a proper date. But he hasn't, and someone else has come along to beat him to the punch, and now is when he chooses to be salty about it. 

As your feet carry you along the path you've walked dozens of times, you catalog the details of Kieran's home. The gallery wall containing photos of his favorite memories and people. A framed kit from his Arsenal debut. The bowl of apples on the kitchen island that will no doubt spoil before they're consumed. All of it, every detail down to the neatly placed shoes near the front door, is distinctly Kieran. 

An ache settles in your limbs. The weight of it threatens to crack bone. Somewhere deep in the house, you swear you can hear Kieran sigh. Probably with relief, thankful that you're finally out of his hair for good. 

At the last second, you take the slip of paper out of your pocket. It's no more than a discarded piece of scrap, but you hunt for a pen and write three words before you can think better of it. It's the truth- no sooner than the words are written do you feel the ache start to ease slightly. You fold the paper in fourths and slide it into the pocket of his coat, knowing full well that he never wears it anyway. But at least you've put it into the universe, and your secret no longer lives solely inside your soul. 

You do not look back as you leave. Once the door locks behind you, you only pray that Kieran washes that coat before he discovers the paper.

I love you. Three words, so simple to write, yet impossible to speak. Three words Kieran will never hear you say. Because now that you've gone, you'll never come back. 

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kicho's Main Story Chapter 6 Premium

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. JP SPOILERS under the cut. Expect mistakes.

Kicho: "...ive…"

Mai: "What?"

Kicho: "I want to live."

(----!)

I didn't know to whom he was directing those words, but I felt an electric current surging through my entire body, making it impossible for me to stay still.

Mai: "Pull yourself together! Right, the pistol!"

Mai: "Maybe if I shoot the door with it, it might open, or the sound will alert someone!"

(I don't know if I can shoot well because I've never used it, but I can't leave him in this condition.)

(I need to do something.)

I was about to take it from his hand with my trembling fingers when一

Boom!

Mai: "!?"

The door swung open, and two heavy-looking boards fell, letting in the blinding light.

Mai: "You're..."

Motonari: "Ha! Serves you right, Kicho."

(Good, he seems to have calmed down a bit.)

Patting my chest in relief, I sat on the chair near the bed.

I brushed away the hair sticking to his side and gently wiped his forehead, making his eyelids twitch.

(Oh...)

Kicho: "Mai?"

Mai: "You okay?"

Kicho: "Yeah, sort of."

He slowly opened his eyes and turned his gaze toward me.

Kicho: "This is my room. What happened since then?"

Mai: "Motonari helped us out."

Mai: "Your subordinate, working with me, called for help when he came to the side of the warehouse and noticed something strange."

Kicho: "I see. We were saved."

Mai: "Yes."

(I wonder what would've happened to him if we had stayed trapped in there.)

(No, I don't even want to imagine it.)

Kicho: "It's already dusk? Looks like I've been out for a while."

Mai: "Yeah. I think you've been asleep for a few hours."

Kicho: "You've been here all this time?"

Mai: "Yes, of course. I was worried. Besides, I could call someone right away if something happened to you."

Kicho: "I see. Sorry I bothered you一Guh."

Mai: "Please don't force yourself to get up."

I hurriedly held him back as he tried to sit up.

Kicho: "............."

Mai: "Are you okay? Don't push yourself too hard. Just sleep."

Kicho: "I'm fine, just dizzy."

Mai: "Dizzy? That's not normal."

Kicho: "Then, I’m not dizzy. Anyway, let me go."

Mai: "Nope, you need to lie down."

I put some force into my upper body and pushed him down onto the bed.

Mai: "Uh-oh..."

Suddenly, my vision shook, and I fell.

Kicho: "Mai."

(This looks like I'm pushing him down!)

Mai: "I'm sorry! I didn't do it on purpose! I was nervous, so I had no energy left."

Kicho: "I know. But you're the one who needs to take it easy."

Mai: "----!"

He put his hand around the back of my head, and he gently brushed my hair.

Kicho: "Thank you for taking care of me."

Kicho: "I feel much better now, so you don't have to worry anymore."

Mai: "O-Okay."

Ticklishly, I pulled myself away and sat back in the chair as he carefully sat up and turned to face me.

Kicho: "By the way, why were you alone?"

Kicho: "That merchant guy never showed his tail, but I knew he was up to something."

Kicho: "That's why I sent you with my men, so you wouldn't be alone."

Mai: "He approached me earlier, so I decided to meet up with him."

Mai: "Could it have been a trap itself?"

Kicho: "Maybe, but there's no way to confirm that now."

Mai: "I'm sorry. I'll be careful not to make a rash decision next time."

Kicho: "Vigilance is necessary, but you don't need to apologize. You're the victim."

Kicho: "If there's anyone to blame other than that man's malice, it's me. I scared the hell out of you."

Mai: "That's not true. I'm really glad you showed up."

Mai: "Also..."

(What the hell was up with him back then?)

Kicho: "You look like you want to say something."

Mai: "Is it that obvious?"

Kicho: "I knew what state I was in, even if I couldn't remember much."

(So this is not the first time this has happened, and he knows what's causing it.)

(I really want to know, but it's too hard to ask.)

Well, at least I know that it's probably not some trivial circumstance.

Kicho: "What's wrong?"

Mai: "I'm not sure if it's something I should go into."

Mai: "But if you tell me, I can help you next time."

Mai: "I didn't know what to do earlier, so I got confused."

Kicho: "..............."

Kicho: "I'm not asking you to be helpful, but I'm willing to talk to you about it."

Mai: "Are you sure?"

Kicho: "It's better than having an unfamiliar gun in your hands due to confusion."

Mai: "Ugh. I'm sorry. I was desperate back then."

(I'm really glad Motonari helped us.)

(If I accidentally caused an accident with the pistol, neither he nor I would've gotten away unscathed.)

Kicho: "It's a kind of disorder."

Mai: "Disorder?"

Kicho: "Your world has several terms for it. To borrow a name from there, I'm claustrophobic. Do you know about it?"

Mai: "I'm not really familiar with it, but I've heard of it."

Kicho: "I see. As the name implies, this is something that develops in enclosed spaces."

Kicho: "Several things can trigger this. One good example is being in a small, dark place."

Mai: "So staying inside that warehouse triggers the symptoms."

(I'm not claustrophobic, but I was also scared of being trapped in a place like that.)

(I'm sure it was more frightening to him.)

My heart hurt as I remembered the way he looked earlier.

Mai: "When did you start feeling like this?"

Kicho: "I don't know. I just found myself in this situation."

Kicho: "Though I think it's probably due to my childhood experience."

Kicho: "I can still remember that dark, cramped room."

Mai: "Room?"

Kicho: "I asked you about your life before, so this time, let me tell you mine."

(I can learn about his past.)

Perhaps because of the tension, the air around us felt heavier as the tightly closed door of his heart was now slowly opening.

Kicho: "I was originally a different person who never existed."

Previous Part╏Masterlist╏Next Part

[cinnameownsweet-archive]

please take this well

word count: 695 pairing: ichitoast warnings: none!

summary: Ichiro tells his brothers about a certain someone he’d like them to meet.

“Ugh...” Ichiro Yamada had just gotten home from a particularly tough odd job. Well, maybe not tough per se, but a bit mentally exhausting. Luckily not too much, because he still needed the mental energy to deal with his brothers’ pointless bickering.

“Jiro, Saburo, I'm home.” He called out as he flopped onto the couch. Hopefully this will go well...

“Aniki!”

“Welcome home, Ichi-nii!”

Jiro and Saburo scattered to the living room, but slowed down as they noticed the serious expression on their big brother's face. Cautiously, they sat down across from him.

“Hey, he's not mad at us, is he...?” The middle son whispered to the youngest. “Why would he be mad at us? If anything, he should be mad at you. You're always so irresponsible.”

“Why, you!— You no good middle-schooler!”

“You're in high school! You should at least act like your age!”

“You—”

“Oi!” Ichiro raised his voice. “Now isn't the time for fighting. I gotta tell you something.” The room suddenly became quiet, and the atmosphere felt like stone. Cold and suffocating.

Ichiro sighed before he started explaining his news, mentally praying that his brothers would take it well.

“Well, I wanna introduce you guys to someone soon. Y'see...” He paused for a few moments, and eventually let out a somewhat embarrassed sigh. He'd never told this to anyone — Not even his family.

“I've got a girlfriend now.”

“Hu... HUUUUUUUUHH?!” Jiro screamed in shock. “Calm down!” Saburo rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I can't believe you didn't notice it sooner.”

“The hell're you saying?!”

The youngest child merely flashed a smug smile at the other, and proudly puffed up his chest. “Well, you see, Jiro—” Ugh, here comes another one of his smug lectures.

“Ichi-nii has been acting a little off lately. He's been adjusting his sleep schedule little by little, ironing his clothes every day, and even searching up good date spots—”

“Hey, the first two things sound normal though?!” Jiro interrupted, not bothering to keep his voice quiet.

“Quiet down, idiot! Now listen to me. If you were in a relationship, wouldn't your partner want you to be well rested? Likewise, wouldn't you want to look good for them? It's basic knowledge, honestly. Like real 101 stuff.” Jiro huffed, having no words left to refute his brother. For once, he actually put up a pretty solid defense...

“Ah, very good observational skills, Saburo!” Ichiro applauded, but he was mentally hiding away in embarrassment. He honestly thought he was hiding it better than that...

“Thank you, Ichi-nii!” Saburo exclaimed, then shot the middle brother a cocky glare that said “Ichi-nii praised me, see?”. And he wanted to fight back against him so bad, but he really didn't wanna be nagged by his older brother again, so he reluctantly stayed put.

The eldest brother cleared his throat, indirectly asking to get back on topic. “Anyway, she's gonna be visiting for dinner in a day or two, so I'd like you two to be on your best behaviour since this is your first time seeing her.”

The room grew quiet again as the middle and little brothers ran Ichiro's request through their heads. Of course, they knew it'd be hard to follow along even if they tried. But it's their big brother! 

They both looked up to him and would obey any request of his, but this? They could try, if only the other wasn't so irritating...!

Well, not only was this for their big brother, but also his partner... And whoever he picked to be his partner would have to be pretty amazing too.

The two looked at each other and nodded, forming a truce. However, they wouldn't shake hands. Even if they were teaming up temporarily, there was no way they'd do that.

“...Alright Aniki, we'll do it.”

“We'll do our best.”

“Ah, awesome! You guys are the best!” But before they could say anything, their big brother stepped forward and hugged them tightly. Just from this alone, they could tell how much this meant to him.

Alright, then! There's no way in hell they'd disappoint him now!

taglist: @dmclr @elysiasdear @maddieinheaven @vanyasomnia. taglist form!

[threemilesup]

It'll All Be Okay // Joseph Liebgott x Reader

description : Bastogne has been difficult for everyone, but between you and Liebgott, he’s been crueler than ever. After an argument and a sudden near-death experience, you’re forced to confront your feelings towards him. 

pairing : joseph liebgott x reader

word count : 2.3k

tags : angst, cursing, injury, fluff

a/n : this is the first fanfic that i've ever written!! i'm pretty nervous to be posting this but cringe culture is DEAD. regardless, if i receive any hate i think i might pass away. anyway, please enjoy!!

–––

“You’re not going on that patrol.”

“Yeah, you know, you’re real funny,” you sarcastically quipped. With a sardonic grin plastered on your face, you turned to face Liebgott. His face displayed a much less amused expression as he stared at you, arms folded. You scoffed. “Oh, come on, Lieb. You can’t be serious!”

He deadpanned, his expression conveying his response.

You furrowed your brows, frustrated. “Well, it’s a good thing you don’t make the choices around here.” You scoffed once more before turning away, angrily tightening the grip you held on your rifle.

“I spoke to Tab, he’s taking your place.”

You froze. Turning around slowly, you glared daggers at him. “You did what?”

“Go back to your foxhole, go get some extra rest.”

Your mouth fell open. “Liebgott, you can’t–”

“Go back to your foxhole, alright?” he repeated with a nonchalant tone. He spoke as if he was doing you some service. Who did he think he was? Your face turned red as heat rose to your cheeks, and you swore steam almost shot from your ears.

“Why are you doing this?” you snapped.

“You’re exhausted. You need rest. For yourself, for the company.”

You dryly laughed. “What do you know about how I feel? Everyone here is tired.” He frowned in response. “You can’t just decide things for me, that’s not how this works. I’m perfectly capable of going on patrol, and so that’s what I’ll do.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want us to lose another man because someone’s too tired to look out for their partner,” he countered.

You gaped at him, shocked that he would stoop so low. “You were the one that told me it’s not my fault! I did the best that I could!”

“Maybe your best isn’t enough!”

You stood, astonished, boots buried in the snow. Opening your mouth to make a retort, you quickly decided against it. It was a waste of energy. He was a waste of energy. Turning on your heel, you stormed off.

The snow crunched beneath your steps as you stormed off. Even in the freezing hell that was Bastogne, it was no surprise that you were still subjected to his nasty temperament. You were used to his brash personality, but now, as you found yourself trapped in the frigid Ardennes, he was much worse.

You let out a huff, your mind racing. The way that he was bothered you to no end. It was frustrating that he would dare to make such a decision on your behalf, it was frustrating that he felt the need to do so, and most of all, it was frustrating that you cared so much.

It wasn’t like you to be so heavily affected by others, so why did this matter? Did he really think you were weak? You had put up with so much to get this far and you weren’t about to start accepting hand-outs. You trudged through the snow, mind heavy with thoughts - before a sudden flash sent you tumbling backward.

You laid in the soft, white snow, your ears ringing.

The colors of the world faded to monochrome. Time was slow.

You laid, unmoving, tired. You felt the cold earth beneath you shaking as German artillery rained from the sky.

Through the deafening silence, a voice screamed your name. Snapping back to your senses, your eyes widened in fear. Propping yourself up, you cried out in distress. You glanced down to see a sharp piece of shrapnel lodged in your right leg with a thick patch of blood pooling the area.

“Medic!” a voice shouted out only to be consumed by the thundering roar of an explosive. You clutched at your wounded leg, staring at the deep gash in horror. Sensing rapid approaching movement, your eyes darted to Liebgott, who was frantically crawling towards you.

When he finally reached you, he grabbed your shoulders, supporting the weight of your upper body. You blankly stared at him as he scanned your leg to assess the situation. “Doc!” he called.

“Joe,” you mumbled, your head lulling to the side.

“Hey, look at me. You’re fine, alright? Look at me!” His face read worry, but his voice remained steady. He moved a hand to cup your cheek and tilted your head to face him. You leaned into his warmth, entranced by the gaze of his soft, brown eyes.

“Joe,” you repeated.

“Hey, hey. You’re alright, sweetheart.” He gently ran his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. In an instant, Eugene Roe rushed to your side and dropped to his knees by your injury. He tossed open his medical bag, making quirk work with the few supplies he had left.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” Joe cooed, bringing your attention back to him. He paid no mind to the medic, solely focused on you. A sharp pain stung your leg.

“Joe,” you echoed, your voice faltering. “Joe, I don’t want to go. Please don’t let me go, please.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. You’re okay now.” He pulled you in close, allowing your upper body to fall into him. He wrapped an arm around your back and the other around your head, gently pressing your cheek against his chest. He silently cradled you, resting his chin atop your head and squeezing his eyes shut.

You were afraid. The adrenaline coursing through your body made it difficult to form rational, comprehensive thoughts. You remembered how you were mad at him. How could he be like this in your final moments? You didn’t want to go like this, you weren’t ready. You wanted to cry out and yell and tell him how angry you still were. You wanted to tell him that you loved him.

“I know, I know,” he whispered, holding you tightly. No, you thought, you don’t.

Although numbed to pain, you felt the touch of the medic on your wounded leg. As your consciousness slipped away you focused on the sensation of Liebgott’s embrace. He held you close, trembling, his fingers combing through your tangled hair. The last thing you felt was his warmth.

–

You jolted awake, jerking upright. As your consciousness slid back into your body, memories of what came before flooded your vision. Blinking away the confusion, you sat, shell-shocked.

You were on a bed–or, what felt like a wooden plank covered in scratchy blankets–in a small, tented room, likely attached to one of the field hospitals. You peered down at the shape your legs formed beneath the blanket, taking note that both remained intact. In an attempt to swing your legs over to get up, a sharp pang of pain shot through your freshly wounded leg and up to your spine, causing you to cry out.

A nearby nurse gasped and pushed into your makeshift room, scrambling to your side and throwing her arms behind your back to support your weight. “Goodness, dear! You sure gave me a fright,” she exclaimed, gently lowering you onto the rickety bed.

You took a moment to take in her appearance. She had dark brown hair that was neatly slicked back into a white nurse’s cap. Although she carried herself with a youthful demeanor, her face displayed creases similar to that of an older woman.

“I need to get back to the line,” you mumbled, forcing yourself up.

“Not in your state, you don’t!” She placed a palm on your shoulder, giving it a tender squeeze. “What’s your name, dear?”

You frowned. “How long was I out?”

At your refusal of her question, she paused, offering a polite smile. “You arrived here just about a day ago.”

You curtly nodded in response. You observed your wounded leg. It was wrapped in thick, white bandages that were, in some odd areas, tainted with hues of red and brown.

“I’ll need to replace those bandages of yours shortly. I’ll go get some more and I’ll return in a bit, alright, dear?” She smiled once more, clasping her hands together at her front. At your lack of response she pursed her lips and saw herself out, exiting through the tent flap.

After you watched the nurse leave, you returned your gaze to your legs. With shaky breaths, you leaned back and rested against the stiff frame of the bed. You wanted to cry. You wanted to release all the emotions that came along with your freshly opened wounds, but you couldn’t. Nothing came out.

Instead, you stared ahead.

–

You awoke to the sound of the tent flap shuffling. Your head whipped to the source, body stiffening. Standing at the entrance of your makeshift room was none other than Joseph Liebgott.

He stood rigid, his helmet clutched at his side. He had shaved since you had last seen him. The two of you looked at each other in silence. Despite the emptiness that ebbed away at your mind, now that he was here, you felt your emotions beginning to trickle back.

You remembered the rage you had felt towards him. You remembered how, despite your argument, despite his cutting words, he immediately came to your side to comfort you in what you thought would be your final moments. You felt the way he held you as your consciousness crept away from you.

“I can’t…I can’t do this anymore,” you uttered.

“What?” he pressed, taking a couple steps towards you.

“Joe, I’m fed up. I’m sore and I’m frustrated, and really, I just can’t do this.”

“What? What’s the matter with you?”

“You! You’re the matter!” you cried out. “You’re an ass! You make my head ache and you make me hate myself for feeling like this! And I hate that I feel this way, and I hate that I let myself feel like this, and I hate that I have to pretend that I’m okay with it when I’m not.

“I can’t stand you! I can’t stand your fucking attitude or the names you call me or the way you pick on me or how you can always find me in a group or how you always stare at me with that look of yours.

“And I hate how I allowed myself to fall into this trap, that I let you have this much power over me. If I could change the way things were, I would. But I can’t. And we’re in the middle of a goddamned war and this–this feeling should be the last thing that I’m worried about, but the truth is, I’m hopelessly, irrevocably, madly in love with you, and I can’t imagine a day where I wake up and you’re not around to bother me. And I hate that the most.”

By the time your tirade was finished, you had begun crying. Your face went hot as tears spilled down your cheeks and into your lap. Embarrassed by your explosive reaction, you tightly clenched your fists, raising an arm to wipe away your tears.

“You’re…in love with me?” he muttered, his voice a breath.

“That’s your main takeaway? Yes, you idiot!” you bawled.

Glimpsing past the cover of your arm, you caught his expression softening. As your eyes locked with his, he came to his senses and rushed to your side. He threw his arm around your shoulders and gently nudged your body towards his.

You fell into his chest, allowing yourself to let it all out. He wrapped his arms around you. You were grateful for his comfort but confused as to why he wasn’t recoiling in disgust. Hesitantly, you snaked your arms around his waist.

As your emotions calmed, he gently pulled away. You glanced up at him, sniffling. He lowered himself to your height, cupping your face in his palms. You weren’t sure if you’d seen this side of him before. He sharply inhaled a breath.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he declared. You searched his face for any trace of dishonesty but there was none to be found.

“Joe,” you breathed, bringing a hand to his cheek.

You were captivated by his beauty, taking in the sight of how handsome he was up close. Your eyes flickered down to his lips as he tugged them into a smirk.

The two of you, as if propelled by magnets, slowly drew your faces together until your lips met. Eyelids fluttering shut, you pressed your lips against his, melting into his touch. He returned the kiss, using a hand to gently adjust your head. He slid his other hand down your shoulders and to the small of your back, drawing you closer.

You were the first to pull away. You raised your fingers, pressing them to your swollen lips as if you were unsure that the kiss was real. He studied your face with interest, watching with a smile.

“You mean it?” you asked him, just to be sure.

“I do, sweetheart,” he replied, rubbing his thumb up and down the side of your waist.

Suddenly, the tent flap shuffled and in came the nurse. “Oh!” she exclaimed, abruptly stopping in her tracks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize–”

“It’s alright, I was just visiting,” Joseph said, rising to his feet and turning to face the nurse.

“I just need to replace her bandages. Is that alright?” she asked, turning to you for permission. You nodded.

She bowed her head and approached your bandaged leg. As she started to get to work, you looked over to Joseph and reached out to clasp his hand. His face flushed as he smiled down at you, lacing his fingers with yours.

“I love you,” you mouthed to him.

“I love you,” he mouthed back.

Although your mind was still swirling with many negative feelings such as hurt, shock, and frustration, none of them were as strong as the love you felt for the man holding your hand. In that moment, you knew that eventually, your wounds would heal, and it would all be okay.

[gretavanbear]

eclipse ; four

*nsfw - oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex

2.6k words

[notes:

small request from me,, only if you want ofc but listen to "crash into me" by dave matthews band until the first cutaway! that's what i did and idk i like to imagine that playing as everything goes down.. literally.]

you were getting ready for your date with josh- three hours early. fuck- always so damn early. this annoyed you badly, but the constant reassurance of being on time made you do it all the time. you had sat on your bed and pondered while looking at your closet for about ten minutes now- feeling like nothing is right. you wanted to be pretty for him, want to be noticed. your makeup was already done; and it took you so long to put your lashes on but you felt very cute with them on.

you finally pick an outfit. a dark green dress, it tied around the neck and had an open back. it dropped down to your calves, and it fit so nicely- you felt pretty. you hung it up behind the door with a jean jacket; your whole outfit being planned which satisfied you completely. in the meantime; you wore an oversized band tee with your matching white lacy lingerie set underneath.

you wore your hair down, and you just felt everything was going to plan. you liked that; having a plan. knowing how things were going to go. which is why you packed two condoms in your purse; you never know.

so when theres a knock at your dorm room door- the unexpectedness startles you. it was way too early for josh to pick you up, and you hadn't made any other friends at school yet. as you get up from your bed, you flatten the material of your shirt before unlocking it and pulling the door towards you.

"so it's true?" jake barges in, a pained expression in his face as he walks into your room. you close the door and face him. he wore a grey hoodie and black sweatpants; and he looked so fucking soft you could melt.

"what is?" you ask innocently, not knowing what he knows.

"you're going out with him. him." he spits out. he doesn't seem angry, or annoyed, but.. bothered? and this energy turns you on.

"he likes me.." you play with your fingers; your lip quivering a bit out of nervousness. he scoffs, stepping closer to you. the only thing behind you is your empty desk, you rest your ass against it.

"he likes you?" he repeats your words, the space between you evaporating as the seconds pass, and he's only a couple inches away. the heat radiates off of him, and you feel yourself getting wet already- even though he hasn't done anything. "i like you." he says, barely above a whisper as his lips are a couple centimetres away from yours now. you can feel his hair brush against your cheeks, and your heart beating loudly in your throat as the air is thin. his hands rest on each side of you, against the desk, as he leans in and kisses you.

and it's so different than josh. his kiss is hard, passionate, yet so gentle. his lips almost dance with yours as one of his hands pull you up on the desk, and he steps closer. his lips feel like the sun warming your skin on a hot day, the feeling you never knew you craved this bad until now. you can't help but wonder if he can feel the warmth coming from your centre, and how he's standing between your legs. your hands make their way to the back of his neck.

he groans against your lips as you pull his hair, and pushes his body against yours, you can feel his hard length through his pants which turns you on even more if possible. your underwear must be soaked by now, his tongue licking your bottom lip almost as if he's asking for access. you grant it and your tongues battle for dominance, his free hand makes it's way to your left thigh.

he pulls away to look at you. "you have no idea how much i've wanted to kiss you" his dark lips say, and you sit in complete shock, unable to comprehend what just happened.

his fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, and you notice how he isn’t shy at all right now. he’s so.. dominant and dark; and the thought of him doing anything to you excites you, his fingers slowly, so slowly make their way down to your aching slit as his teeth bite your bottom lip. his fingertips rub your clit softly as you whimper in his mouth- the next words causing your clit to twitch against his fingers.

“when you kiss him tonight, i want you to think about me.” he groans against your lips before dropping to his knees in front of you and pushing your underwear to the side; leaving soft kisses against your aching centre.

"fuck.. jake" you whisper, your fingers making their way in his soft his hair, as his brown eyes watch you deeply. he sticks his tongue out and licks you from bottom to the top; his warm tongue making your stomach flip. you grind against his mouth as his tongue draws circles around your clit- his hands grip your thighs and pulls you closer as his tongue makes its way inside you. the feeling driving you insane.

"it's so.. fuck.. it's so good" he keeps watching you as you breathe loudly, letting out little moans as his mouth works wonders on your sensitive area. your hands pull his hair as he keeps going. your orgasm approaching because he's doing so fucking good.

"don't stop.. please.. i'm getting close..." you whimper as the feeling comes closer and closer, your orgasm seconds away. he squeezes your thighs for a couple seconds, licking you hard, edging you so well, the feeling is so. fucking. close-

until he pulls away.

you gasp and watch him in shock as he stands up in front of you, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb. you breathe loudly as he stands above you, the space between your bodies nonexistent as his hand holds yours down against the hard material of the desk.

"jake.. why.." you start but his lips interrupting your words; the taste of yourself covers both your lips as he sticks his tongue inside your mouth again. you want to lift your hands; make him touch you, but he holds them down tight as the bump in his pants rub against your centre softly.

"can't you see how much i want you?" he sighs against your lips, and pulls away, letting go of your hands. "text me when you get home, please." he asks softly, before walking away and leaving your dorm. you can't do anything but sit there in shock, your cunt aching for friction as he's gone out of your room, and you needed to feel something.

-

you held josh's arm as you walked to the bar that was off campus. he looked down at you with a proud smile, he dressed so nice as well. he wore some dress pants and a white long sleeve. you don't know what it was, but josh looked so good in white. it made him look almost angelic; and you tried to push away the thoughts of jake's mouth being on your clit only hours ago but it just wouldn't budge. you were so fucking horny from it and you needed to cum, no matter what happens tonight.

so when josh ordered you a drink, you gladly drank it with him in a booth in the back of a bar. he called it a 'salty dog', something you never had before, but it was delicious. he seemed so innocent sometimes; but man he knew his drinks.

"so, [y/n], tell me about yourself." josh asks sweetly.

'i'm fucking horny as hell right now.' you want to tell him. but "well what do you want to know?" is what truly comes out. he smiles at your response, and takes a sip of his drink.

"what kind of music do you like?" he asks, and you take a sip of your drink before answering. the lighting of the booth is dark, the seats a dark brown and the table a light coloured wood.

"um.. well. i like rock music.. or indie. anything with electric guitar and bass. i love the sound of it." you smile, thinking of your favourite songs. the thought of jake comes back and you squeeze your thighs together, taking a big sip of the drink hoping the thoughts go away.

"you know.. sometimes jake will play the guitar for me in our dorm. and i'll sing with him, i like to think that in another universe jake and i, and maybe even our younger brother sam would be in a band together. since he plays the bass." josh speaks slowly, and smiles softly as he articulates these thoughts out into the open.

"i think that sounds lovely. i'd love to hear you sing." you smile, taking another sip of your drink as you think of jake playing the guitar, josh singing for you. "maybe.. after we finish our drinks we could head back to my dorm and you can sing something for me.." you suggest as you nervously make eye contact with josh. his eyes widen and he nods quickly, basically downing his drink right there, and you do the same. you don't fucking care, your cunt is aching and needs contact. either of them will satisfy you right now.

as you get back to your dorm room, josh stands behind you with his hands on your hips. you walk in and let him sit on your bed as you take off your jacket and hang it behind your door after locking it.

"fuck..[y/n].. that dress.." josh gasps, witnessing your bare back underneath the green dress for the first time. he stands up and stands behind you, so close you feel his length against your ass. he drags his pointer finger up from the bottom of your back to the back of your bra, then uses his hand to move your hair away from your neck.

"do you want me, mama?" his lips whisper against the back of your neck. and the feeling of his length makes you want to drop to your knees and let him do anything to you. you nod softly and his hands make their way to the front of your dress, as he cups your breasts and squeezes them; his lips on your neck leaning little kisses. you sigh out of pleasure.

his free hand grabs yours and he brings you to the bed, you lay down as he crawls over you; he looks down at you for a couple of seconds with a soft smile before pulling in and leaving a soft kiss on your lips, your hands wrap around his neck as you kiss him passionately.

something about josh's kisses just felt like home, like breakfast in bed, the waves crashing against your ankles on a hot sunny day. he just.. felt so warm. you had so many feelings for him, but right now you needed to be touched. you find his hand and drag it down to your aching cunt, and he gasps at how wet you are.

"for me?" he whimpers, his fingers rubbing you softly. he was so much softer than jake, and you liked it, but jakes roughness really did something to you.

"touch me, fuck me, take me" you moan as his fingers play with you so nicely. he smirks at the way you're begging for him, stopping suddenly to take his shirt off, then his pants. you take the time to quickly remove your dress, half naked for him on your back sheets, the only material covering you now is your white lace bra and well, now see-through white panties.

josh’s fingers get right back to your centre; moving the underwear out of the way as his fingers enter your slit, massaging it so nicely. you whimper at the feeling of his soft hands; the way he’s touching you. he’s so fucking soft. until his fingers slip inside and he curls them, hitting your g-spot. you gasp out in pleasure and reach out to grab his arms as he continues to thrust them in and out of you.

“does that feel good?” he breathes against your neck as you tighten around his fingers.

“yes- yes.. more.. please josh..” he chuckles at how much you’re begging.

“do you have a condom, love?” he asks sweetly and you nod, looking towards your purse which was set on the floor. he nods understandingly and pulls his fingers out softly, to go grab a condom. he pulls his underwear down and you bite your lip at the sight.

he has a beautiful cock. it’s thick, and looks fucking delicious. you want him to just take control and fuck you right now, you need him that bad. he rolls the condom on his length and lines it up with your entrance, rubbing it against your folds which makes you moan out of pleasure. the feeling of his warm cock against your cunt is driving you wild and you need more.

“can i fuck you, mama?” he asks sweetly as he rubs your clit with the tip of his cock. you nod immediately, grinding down and needing him. he smirks and pushes himself inside, slowly to let you adjust to the size. he feels so fucking nice and full, and you’ve never wanted someone this bad. jake being out of your thoughts right now as josh fully fills you. josh waits a couple of seconds before thrusting in and out, giving you a moment before fastening the pace; his fingers wrapped around your hair on the back of your head. his lips on yours as he moans softly against your lips, his cock twitching inside of you.

you tighten yourself around him as he whimpers in your ear; the sound is something you never knew you needed until now. your last boyfriend was always quiet, and to hear a man whimper in your ear; it changes you.

"keep doing that and i'll come" he breathes out in your ear as you wrap your legs around him; his thrusts becoming harder and lazier, his orgasm approaching. you feel yours coming too, the pace he fucks you with working wonders, and you squeeze your legs around him one more time.

"i'm coming josh- fuck- i'm-"

"come, babe, please" he whimpers, interrupting your moans with his as the warmth of his cum inside the condom fills you up, and you moan his name loudly as your walls tighten around him; your orgasm coming crashing down on the both of you.

"fuck... [y/n].. wow" josh breathes out, as he lays next to you and pulls you close to his warm body. you smile to yourself as your face is buried deep in the warmth of his chest, and the way he's holding you makes you feel so special.

"josh.. uhm.. i have to pee.." you ask nervously and he chuckles, letting go of you for a moment.

you step into your bathroom with your phone in your hands, sometimes you just need to scroll through instagram for a couple seconds. jake's text pops up on top of the screen and your breath hitches.

jake: Did you get home alright? Josh isn't back.

you answer quickly, as you don't want to keep josh waiting alone in your bed.

you: yes, i'm back now, thank you

you can't prepare for what he says next, but your cunt aches once again. was josh not enough? did you need to feel the way his brother does?

jake: I hope you thought about me tonight.

did you need jake?

you: goodnight jake

jake: Goodnight, [y/n]. Talk tomorrow, and sweet dreams (;

sweet dreams? now for sure you'd have sweet dreams.. about who?

you couldn't choose.

[notes again:

i feel like jake likes to edge people ; like in my imagines idk he gets off on that shit. he's evil. he has that look in his eye. ]

{@emojakekiszka @sarakay-gvf , @positivegvfthings @milkgemini @gretavanfleas @spark-my-nature @whorefourjakekiszka @rachiekiszkaadmin @lo-pe-ak @lek-gvf @theweightofjake @rad-space-princess @gretavanval @greta-flanveet-admin @maddie-van-fleet }

[hekateinhell]

20 Questions for Fic Writers! ✨

tagged by @monstersinthecosmos thanks babe! ♥️

1. How many works do you have on A03? 32 public, 2 anon, 1 orphaned (that I regret, don't do it!)

2. What’s your total A03 word count? 125,475!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Vampire Chronicles!

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Shake The Disease, Our House, The Hand That Feeds, Play The King

5. Do you respond to comments? YES. I used to be so good at replying right away and now it's more like 2-3 times a year where I'll sit down and do them in bulk. Part of is I feel really nervous and EXPOSED when I post something and I kind of feel shy, and part of is I want to make sure I'm taking the time to reply thoughtfully because I want to put as much energy into my response as I'm getting from all your lovely, thoughtful comments! 💖 But I appreciate every single one—comments keep me going! I like to say "write for yourself" and I stand by that LOL I do write for myself first and foremost, but I share because I crave the feeling of being part of the community!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Make An Exception lmao. It's a short lil' canon divergent thing but it's basically Armand cashing in a favor with Lestat and asking him to "take care" of Daniel the way Armand once "took care" of Nicki. Either that or A Rusted Essence actually, I can't decide! I think the first one is angstier and the second one is more hopeless.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Any of my PWPs?

8. Do you get hate on fics? In the beginning I would get a couple hate comments here and there because the only fics I wrote at the time were L/A and I guess that bothered people! Lol it was a different vibe back then (only two years ago but it was weird, I'm so glad that's a thing of the past woof!). Oh, and I really pissed off a couple puritians making Lestat fifteen years old in my mermaid fic. 🫣

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? 9/10 times my fics will be smut! I've written both guy-on-guy and girl-on-girl smut, and I find there's differences to each outside of... you know LOL the obvious! I always try to focus on the psychology behind the kinks and how things build and escalate throughout the narrative. It's much more important to me why they're doing what they're doing and how they connect through doing that, but if I can push the envelope of depravity just a bit too then I'm very happy!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Nope, no crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not a full fic.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? No! I think I would like to one day but it would very much depend on the person and the story.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Lestat/Armand! But I very much love Armand/Louis and Armand/Daniel too, and of course poly combos are always fun and I do write and read a decent mix of all the above!

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? One of the anon fics. I think iykyk. Sorry, guys.

16. What are your writing strengths? I get the most compliments on my characterization, dialogue, and smut!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I'm also trying to get better with drawing out my fics and creating a sense of slow burn, but I have no patience and I just have to get into the smut or at least reference it somewhere within the first 2k. So I'll work on that. One day. And I can't wait to write a proper 50k EVENTUALLY. Oh, and pacing! I feel like I really struggle with pacing.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Lord help me, I do this when I write from Lestat's POV, which I do often. Usually it's just endearments or a phrase but... yeah. Absolutely this is not how bilingual people talk lmao but when it's vampire fic specifically I think it's just corny enough to be Ricey, if you get my drift!

19. First fandom you wrote for? VC! My two year ficiversary was in March! 

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? I'm so bad at this question because I've noticed it tends to be the latest big thing I've been working on! So right now that's Drop Dead Gorgeous, a genderswapped L/A human AU! It's the first thing I wrote since I've been exploring my sexuality and it was really interesting from a creative perspective to get into the headspace of a woman obsessively attracted to another woman, and honestly it didn't take a lot for me to get there! It was super fun and horny and I really enjoyed writing it and I can't wait to start working on the next chapter!

tagging but no pressure! @rainbowcarousels @0junemeatcleaver0 @butchybats @aunteat @leslutdepointedulac @cinnamonclove @nothing-but-paisley ♥️

[the-gateway-to-madness]

3Below and Thoughts on Akiridions

Okay so it's mentioned in episode 2 of 3Below that Akiridions learn through "thermogenic cosmosis" or "thermogenic osmosis" it's not entirely clear which. Total technobabble, but if we go for the latter, we can discern what it means through the roots of the words (which is actually backed up by the little gesture Krel makes when he says the term!)

"Thermo"= of or relating to heat

"Genic"= generation or production

If we're bothering to break down the actual meanings, "thermogenic" means "heat producing" and osmosis is the process of a substance moving from an area of higher concentration of that substance to an area of lower concentration of that substance.

This would suggest that Akiridions learn by directly absorbing an amount of energy and by extension knowledge from each other.

My theory is that in the last episode of Season 1, when there's that flashback and Coranda and Fialkov make Aja's and Krel's cores glow, that's what they were doing. Trying to directly communicate part of their experience that they couldn't quite put into words.

Anyway, it's never brought up again, and in order for the audience to keep up the exposition has to happen externally, so- I guess we'll never really know. But this makes sense to me and also could make for cute accidental love confessions where one Akiridion is just trying to teach another something and one of them accidentally lets slip the ✨️feelings✨️

Also the way they portrayed Akiridion reproduction is bs and doesn't line up with any of the established canon in 3Below. If kissing was so risky why would Aja go for it all the time? It's clearly retconned in and it's not well done.

Going by the idea that Akiridions can share parts of their energy with each other, I choose to believe (because in this household there Is No Movie) that either person in the relationship can get pregnant regardless of their sex, and that impregnation involves voluntarily pushing a much larger amount of energy than usual to the one that's going to carry the baby. Life is delicate and an immensely serious decision and creating it should take more effort than "whoops, we kissed too many times". Also Akiridions deserve to be able to make out.

If they want to crossbreed with a species from another planet, theoretically the other species has to carry it (because most of 'em can't do the energy transfer it requires to get the Akiridion pregnant).

here's a bonus picture of my oc if you made it through all that!

And a post compiling all my analyses of Akiridions:

[noshitbarnes]

Anti-Hero: Chapter 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Summary: After being experimented on as a young child and given abilities, Daniela has become a highly skilled member of the Avengers, and has even been assigned to mentor Peter Parker. Little does she know that the happiness she’s been able to find will become threatened by the very people who started her on her path long ago.

Warnings: language, jealously, some fluff

Word Count: 3,033

Notes: Let me know what you guys think!

Anti-hero masterlist

After Daniela and Peter got home from their jog, Tony informed them that Daniela was going to be doing drills with Bucky the rest of the day, so that Peter could finish his Biology paper that was due Friday, which was only a few days away.

Daniela glares over at Peter, "You told me that you already had it done. How come Stark knows differently?"

Peter bit his lip while looking between Daniela and Tony nervously, "Clearly I can't keep secrets from anyone around here."

Tony shakes his head and points behind Peter, "It doesn't matter how I found out, just go finish it, today." The emphasis on the last word scaring even Daniela.

Once Peter had scurried off down the hall out of ear shot from the pair, Daniela raises an eyebrow toward Tony, "Alright, I'll bite, what's got you all hostile?"

Tony rolls his eyes, "I'm not hostile. I just need everyone to do their jobs around here." No change in Daniela's face proved that she didn't buy his excuse, "I'm fine, babe, honest. I'm just a little grumpy today is all. No need to worry about me."

"Ya know, lying to me is pointless. I've been a spy for over 50 years." Daniela sighs and leans up against the nearest wall, studying the man in front of her. He was an absolute mess. His hair was barely combed, which was a huge red flag on it's own, his eyes were more bloodshot than normal, and every muscle in his body was tense, "I can tell you didn't sleep at all last night, you're like an open book to me, Tony. Storm keep you up too or is something else going on?"

"You know thunder doesn't bother me." He says narrowing his eyes, "I've helped you out before. I just don't sleep, period." Sighing in defeat, not having the energy for his usual sarcasm, "I've just got some other problems I'm dealing with that I don't want to burden you with. I'll be fine, don't worry yourself over little ol'me."

Daniela chuckles and pushes off the wall, "Well I think we both know that I worry about everyone in this place." She furrows her brows and looks at him softly, "I don't know what's going on, but you know better than to take it out on Peter."

Tony rubs the back of his neck and looks down the hallway where Peter had gone, "Yeah I know, I didn't do much, he'll be fine." He looks back to Daniela, "I'll make sure he's okay. Now," he puts on a fake smile and nods in the direction behind her, "you've got a not-so-patient super soldier waiting on you."

**********

“So, why am I still training with you?" Daniela asks as she stretches her arms behind her back, "I thought it was just gonna be a one day thing and I could go back to Steve."

Bucky chuckles, "I thought we had this discussion last time? Steve thinks I can help you out more." He rolls his eyes at her last sentence, "Do you miss good ol'boy that much?" 

Daniela smirks at the darkness in his voice, "Why, Barnes? Jealous?"

Barnes scoffs, "Absolutely not."

In reality Bucky was jealous, not necessarily of Steve specifically, but of any guy Daniela spent time with that wasn't him. He didn't understand why he felt that way, she's allowed to spend time with whoever she wanted, which of course she did. So why did her talking about Steve bother him? Steve doesn't spend time with Daniela like he does, Bucky is the one that gets to see a side of her that no one else does. For fucks sake, she stays the night in his room wrapped up in his arms, so why the hell is he jealous of anyone?

Daniela rolls her eyes, "Whatever." Rolling her neck from side-to-side she continues, "Let's get this over with." She walks over to him and smiles, "After I kick your ass, Parker and I are going to lunch. He'll need food and a break from writing his paper."

Bucky glares at her and was about to respond when a voice behind them cut in, "A girl with a goal in mind, I love it." Both soldiers turn to the door to find Clint and Peter standing there watching them.

Daniela laughs, "You know me Barton, I like to have an end in mind.”

Bucky pinches her side, making her yelp a bit, and he winks, "So what brings you two here? I thought Parker had a paper to write?”

Clint shrugs, "I broke him out, Tony won't even know he's missing. Plus, Parker wasn't sure who would win in a fight, you or Velikov." Clint smiles and Daniela shakes her head, "I told him my money's on the girl.”

Bucky glares at the archer and crosses his arms, "She kicked my ass one time, Barton.”

"And I will never let you forget it." Clint chuckles, "Now go on, get on with it,” he waves his hands at the pair, “show the kid why Cap picked you to train him."

Daniela turns to Bucky and smiles playfully, "This should be fun.”

Her expression makes Bucky smirk in response and he takes a step back, "Yeah, for me." 

**********

"I can't believe you went for my hair!”

Laughter fills the gym as Bucky runs his hand through what was left of his hair, “It'll grow back, calm down,” Daniela says in-between her laughter.

Daniela didn’t intentionally go for his hair, she was just trying to keep him away from her, she was worried what would happen if he got close to her again like last time. It wasn't her fault that his hair got in the way of her icicle blade, in her defense it was better than his actual face. He did look ridiculous though, half of his hair was cut short, while the other side was still long. She was definitely gonna pay for that, Bucky loved his long hair.

Bucky lowly growls and turns his gaze back to Daniela, "Still, this is some bullshit.”

"I dunno," Daniela tilts her head and crosses her arms, "ya might look better with short hair." She then raises her left hand and it begins to glow white, “How about I even it out? You and Steve can have matching haircuts." 

"Super solider twins!" Peter says mockingly and Clint chuckles from beside him.

Bucky shakes his head, "You've had your fun," he continues as he stalks toward her, "now be serious, Velikov.”

Daniela furrows her brows as he walks closer, "I thought that's what I was doing?”

He shakes his head as they continue to circle each other, “Giving me a hair cut as a distraction doesn't count.”

"Why not?" She asks while letting her hand burn out as she returns it back to her side, "If I was in the field you would think it was brilliant. You're just mad that it was directed at you.”

He pauses for a moment and nods, "Alright touché." The pair continue to circle each other once more and he smirks at her, "Why so nervous? Scared I'll pin ya down again?”

Daniela laughs in order to hide her nerves while putting up her glowing hands, "Gotta get to me first, RoboCop." 

"Challenge accepted." 

**********

"Son of a bitch!”

Bucky had somehow managed to avoid Daniela's frost beams and random blades of ice and pinned her down against the mat, which he was all too proud of, "You've always been too cocky." Bucky had both of Daniela's wrists pinned next to her head while straddling her waist, "I'm beginning to think you enjoy this.”

"Hey, watch the talk," Clint snaps from the sidelines, "there's a child present.”

"I'm not a child!" Peter rolls his eyes and leans his back against the wall while crossing his arms.

Peter did appreciate Clint saying something though, he didn't like the way Bucky always flirted with Daniela. Actually, he hated it. It was just weird because some days they seemed to absolutely hate each other, but then other days Bucky would pin her on a mat in the gym and have a pick-up line ready to go. What was even more strange was that Daniela wasn't bothered by Bucky's advances, it was all very confusing to him. She couldn't possible have feelings for Bucky, could she? He was just so mean to her, all the time! Granted Peter didn't know their entire history, but from what he's seen, how could any woman want anything to do with Bucky? Peter was starting to wish Clint hadn't dragged him here, writing a paper sounded so much better than this.

Without taking her eyes from Bucky's, Daniela responds, "Noted, Barton.”

Bucky rolls his eyes and looks to Clint, "Well, you two are no fun.”

Daniela glares up at him, full of rage, "You should know this is going to end the same way as last time.”

Hearing Daniela's voice, Bucky looks back to her, and raises an eyebrow, "Clearly, you were too busy checking me out to notice I'm wearing gloves, Sergeant.”

Daniela continues glaring at him, but glances over to look at his hands, noticing the gloves that Tony had made for him when Bucky first started training her. Now, it all made sense why Tony was so enthusiastic about having Daniela train with Bucky today, she was gonna kick Tony's ass when they were done. The gloves were weird and Tony wanted to give Daniela a challenge because to quote him, “I want you to become better.” He designed them to resist her powers, how she's never been able to understand, but she was still trying to figure out a way around them, which typically didn’t end positively for her. They gave her an excruciating headache and made her hands hurt for days, which was the goal of them, to challenge her.

"Damn it!" Daniela twists her head to look at Clint, "He's cheating!" 

"Technically," Clint smirks, "so are you, frostbite.”

Daniela stares daggers at the archer, "Why are you letting him use those, I thought you were on my side?!”

“Hey now, watch the temper. I'm always on your side." Clint narrows his eyes, "And we both know you can overpower him without your powers. Stop relying on them so damn much.”

"She never has before." Daniela looks back to Bucky who was just smiling sweetly at her, "Well, you haven't, doll.”

Daniela turns her rage to the solider on top of her, "You have no idea what I'm truly capable of.”

He smirks slightly while lowering his face so that he was inches from hers while tightening his grip on her wrists, "Then by all means, do show me.”

Bucky was getting on Daniela's last nerves and not in a good way. She was tired. Tired of being overpowered, tired of being the responsible one, tired of Bucky flirting with her for no reason, and more than tired of her body wanting to give in to him. Bucky's stupidly perfect smirking face was her last straw, "Parker." Peter perks up at the sound of his name and pushes off from the wall, "Toss me my knife.”

Peter's eyes widen and he looks to Clint, who only shakes his head, "Dani, no. I don't wanna have to explain to Cap that you killed his best friend.”

Daniela only glares more at Bucky above her, "It's not like he'd be shocked.”

Bucky nods and tightens his grip on Daniela's wrists as she squirms to get free, "She's got a point there, Barton.”

"Still gonna go with a no, Dani." Clint retorts.

"Alright," Daniela takes a deep breath, "plan B then."

Daniela wasn't sure if "Plan B" was even a good idea, she'd been with the team for almost 3 years now, and not many knew the full extent of her powers. Only Tony and Steve knew what she could do, she'd always been afraid to show everyone else. Daniela hid the other side of herself ever since she became an Avenger, never used it in the field or even during training. Every time people saw what she could really do, it always scared them, and she would either loose someone she loved or she had to move again. However, now seemed like a good time for show-and-tell because she wanted nothing more than to wipe that damn smirk off of Bucky’s face. Daniela quietly prays to all of the Gods that what she was about to do wouldn't scare anyone and would actually get around those damn gloves. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens her right hand. Instantly a ray of sparks flies out from her finger tips and towards Bucky's chest causing him to fly backwards, spinning, and hitting the far gym wall.

Daniela calmly stands up and straightens out her braid, “I guess rage overpowers those gloves, good to know.”

"What the fuck!?" Clint shouts from behind the woman while Peter just stares silently, his jaw dropped in shock.

Bucky shakes his head and then stares at her as well, completely confused, “The hell? I thought you were just ice and water?”

Daniela chuckles, "I told you, Barnes," she continues as she watches him struggle to regain his composure, "you don't know what I'm truly capable of.”

Bucky finally stands up and shakes himself off, "You're just full of surprises aren't ya." He starts to circle her once more, "What else you got up your sleeve?”

Clint shakes his head, "She's like a mini Thor.”

"Okay," Daniela narrows her eyes at him while Bucky laughs, "that's insulting to Thor.”

Clint shrugs, "He'd be impressed.”

"That shit was cold as fuck too.” Bucky shivers slightly while brushing at his chest again.

"Yeah," Daniela raises an eyebrow at him, "it's called cryo-electricity, so basically, cold lightning.”

“Awesome," Peter beams from next to Clint, "any other secret talents, Sarg?”

She shrugs, "Plenty," and then turns to face Peter, "but I think it's time for lunch that way you can go back to writing your paper. Plus, I think everyone has had enough for one day."

Peter frowns, "Aw, come on! I'll get the paper done okay, I promise! This was just getting interesting!"

Bucky walks up to stand next to Daniela, "She's right kid. Plus, I know what I'm dealing with now, so next time it'll be easier for me."

Daniela scoffs and elbows his side, "Oh whatever, Barnes! You're just as done as I am today, admit it!" She faces the solider who only shrugs, "Those gloves always wear me out and you know it, my head it killing me and I know your chest hurts."

Bucky lifts up his shirt revealing his toned chest, which catches Daniela by surprise, "I mean, it's a little sore, but you didn't leave much of a mark." He looks back up at her and smiles sweetly, knowing exactly what he was doing.

Daniela takes a deep breath, "Well, I did go easy on you since it was a surprise."

"If you say so." Bucky puts his shirt down and turns toward Clint and Peter, "Regardless, Peter does need to finish his paper and lunch does sound good. You guys wanna order a pizza?" Everyone nods their heads in agreement and makes their way out of the gym. Just as they reach the door, Bucky pulls Daniela's arm back in to the gym so that they're alone, "Why didn't you tell me about the rest of your powers?"

His expression was of half hurt and half anger, which caught Daniela by surprise. Sighing, she leans against the wall, then slowly sinks to the floor, feeling vulnerable, "Because I'm a freak Bucky!" She collapses on the floor and rests her head against the wall, eyes shut, "I mean, I came here a freak and I didn't want everyone getting scared that I could make lightning come out of me! Everyone always gets freaked out by that! I wanted to fit in for once."

Bucky blinks slowly at the almost crying woman on the floor in front of him. He was shocked. Daniela never expressed her feelings like this, so it was knew for him. He appreciated that she was sharing, but also wasn't sure how to make her feeling better. He takes a deep breath and sits down next to her on the floor, bringing his knees closer to his chest, "Well that explains why you didn't tell everyone, but why didn't you tell me."

Without opening her eyes, she answers, "You know I don't like sharing, it's nothing personal." She pauses and takes a deep breath, "The only ones who know are Steve and Tony. Steve knows cause he recruited me and then I ended up telling Tony on my own, hence the fancy gloves."

Bucky sighs and reaches for her hand, intertwining their fingers, which makes Daniela open her eyes, "Alright." He frowns slightly and furrows his brows, knowing he shouldn't be hurt at the fact that she didn't confide in him, "Just so you know I don't think you're a freak and this isn't going to make me look at you any differently."

Daniela rests her head on his shoulder, "Good." She pauses, "But what about the others?"

Bucky rubs the back of her hand gently with his thumb. "Barton and Parker are completely un-phased. Parker was actually excited about the whole thing." He squeezes her hand comfortingly, which she returns, "Wanda and Natasha are gonna think that this makes you more badass than you already are." Daniela chuckles, and he smiles, "It takes a lot to throw Vision for a loop and Banner honestly has so much on his own plate, he's not gonna be too concerned about your new found power." He pauses and chuckles, "Sam will be absolutely terrified of you, which is gonna be fantastic."

Daniela chuckles softly and looks up at him, "Thank you, Barnes."

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

(sent through here in case you don’t answer notes. replies? idk, i’m new to tumblr. feel free to disregard if you do reply to those.)

Are you willing to engage in a convo/elaborate on disliking Taehyung? I can see that you already have somewhere, but I’m new here so I can’t find that. All that I have gleaned is that his actions have bothered you somehow? To be honest, I would like to critique one of your posts by saying that I think you saying “I don’t have the energy for him, I’m trying to be nice” is, like, harmful? Rude? Maybe a bit weird? Yes, I am Taehyung-biased, but I would still be saying this if you said that to Jimin or Minho or, idk, Harry Styles. I just think it’s an unnecessarily mean and even threatening thing to say to someone without being a bit more upfront about your reasoning. I think it would be helpful to link those old posts you made, though I get that that’s not possible for every ask. Anyway, I guess I’ve become the Taehyung-likers in your inbox (or whatever this thing is called) that you don’t have energy for lol, but I genuinely would like to know your reasoning. Thanks for all the other posts, too, your queer Bangtan analyses are very cool and awesome.

Hey @raspberrytaegi

I saw you sent this same message in the comments. I decided to answer here because it's easier to write. This was during my break, so now I finally decided to actually answer your questions.

In a way, I understand where you're coming from, specifically because it appears that you only recently opened up your blog and you somehow stumbled on to mine and you happened to see me dismissing something that was Tae-related. Now, there was a context to that. Some of it is obvious from my blog, other stuff was more personal in a way. This is not me justifying myself because as you will see in what I will explain down the line, I don't think it's necessary for me to do so.

Me saying I don't have the energy for him was right before I went on a break and put the blog on hold. My initial plan was to wait until right before Christmas, but I just had had enough of anything BTS and the 90 percent of asks that were piling up in my inbox. If I came across as rude in that ask, I was just the same in the other ones I responded during those days because I simply didn't have the patience anymore for nonsense. So, there was that.

For anyone who has been following me for a while, they sort of know what my stance is in regards to Tae and I've never been shy about it. I can't link all my posts about him because it would take too much work and time that I do not have. I also wish my tagging system would be more consistent, but if you are interested, you can check the "tae", "taehyung" "V" tags on my blog and you could probably find some more. And what you will find is that indeed, I'm not a fan of him. But I also don't subscribe to this idiotic mentality of what this fandom would call anti, hater or whatever else label is out there. Which means, I don't have a hate boner for him. I may be biased and that influences the way I perceive him, but I'm also not going to drag him for the sake of it. I had anons saying his friendship with the Wooga squad is fake and just for the show they made which was something that I did not agree. I sort of live posted during the Grammy awards last year and 80 percent of my posts was me enjoying Tae doing his thing. His first trip to Paris was on my radar as well and in a good way. I also talked about the "dating scandal" back in September and how the fans are being shitty towards the entire thing (in way more words anyway. If that is of interest to you, I tagged it under the ship name).

At the same time, I'm not a fan of his behavior. I think he can be shady some times and this is something that would get me stoned on twitter. He can come across as rude and spoiled and that's something that personally doesn't work for me. I also don't expect everyone to agree. Some things that I don't like might be the same reason why others are his fans. They like how Tae is more serious and quiet, I see it as unwilligness to be professional (in some group video messages and even Run BTS episodes. Everyone can have a difficult day and not be in the mood at all, but it's a job where they play games. That's it. And it's not a one time occurence. If it was that case, I probably wouldn't have noticed).

I don't understand his tendency to lie. Especially when there's intention (or it comes across as that). This is a behavior that is seen by his fans as Tae just being himself, he's cool like that. Fine. But not to me. He posts a fake tattoo just because, he says he's having a collab for a Christmas song but that didn't happen and it came out of the blue, and so on.

I don't hate the guy, I just don't vibe with him at all and he's the type of person that I can't be a fan of. That's it. It's not a crime. And I'm also not going to judge you for coming to my inbox and wanting to understand why I think that way because you're Tae biased. I get it. I also don't get some of the opinions written about Jimin and Jungkook so I understand your position.

I also don't mind the passive agressiveness in your ask about me not having the energy for a Tae-biased fan. I "judge" my anons mostly on how they choose to express themselves and the willingness to understand different point of views, not based on who they stan. If someone is at least mostly reasonable (which you were), we can have a conversation.

Lastly, I saw that you liked some of my other posts, thank you! Seeing that you didn't immediately sent me a hate post and being able to see beyond an dismissive answer to an ask I answered played a big part in me being open now in having this conversation.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵 Disco Elysium, pt. 1

"I need to know about those human bodies."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Well, you're barking under the wrong tree then, officer." She shakes her head. "I have no interest in floaters. Seen enough of them in my life already. A very unattractive bunch."

Sometimes people just drown.

There was another option that *almost* tied and it leads to a more interesting scene, so I'm going to show you that as well.

4. "This place looks bad. Why don't you leave?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "And go where? The fish are plentiful here and we get enough orders to get by. It's not great, but it's something."

"You just gotta follow the work, that's where the money sleeps."

"Anywhere with better opportunities."

"Just, somewhere..." (Close your eyes.) "Away from all this sadness."

"I understand what you're saying. It could be worse elsewhere."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "People imagine picking up and finding *something better* is an easy solution. But how is that supposed to work, when all your time and energy goes to staying alive? You have almost nothing to set aside to actually fight your way out."

"I don't mean to complain about my pauper life. We are warm and fed here and..." She smiles faintly and plucks some seaweed out of the net. "I don't know, there's just something about this shit hole."

VOLITION [Easy: Success] - She would like to complain. She would like that very much. But she can't and she won't. 'Tough' has gotten her this far and she's not giving it up.

3. "Nice sword." (Point at the sabre on her hip.) "Does it come with a story?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Unfortunately, the factory sold this one with a three-year warranty instead of a story." She smiles at her own joke. "It's to intimidate folks, mostly."

"Hold on... do you know how to use it?"

"It *is* imposing." (Nod.)

"Isn't that what guns are for?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Not really." She glances at the blade. "I know some basic moves and I know it sure as hell beats a knife, when you're in a tough spot."

2. "It *is* imposing." (Nod.)

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "It's a regular mass-produced sword, like a shovel or an axe. Nothing fancy, just for intimidation."

"Why do you need intimidation tactics?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "From time to time people need a lesson in respect. That's just the way it is. Back in the day I caught the eyes of many men and believe me," she adds, tittering, "men need a lesson in manners from time to time."

"Figures. Typical patriarchal nonsense, mascu-venomosity."

"Can I borrow that sword?"

"Why don't more women arm themselves if it's so effective?"

"So where are all the men now?" (Proceed.)

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Ugh... sure. Venomosity." She nods. "But boys will be boys and god knows we don't have many around. So far the sword has been enough to keep them in line."

2. "Can I borrow that sword?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "No, I'm afraid not." Her eyes are smiling as her hand moves to the hilt. "Attempting to confiscate the blade I use to keep these animals in check? You would put me in an early grave."

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - She refuses?! But your word is the *law*. *You* are LAW!

SUGGESTION [Challenging: Success] - She's making a joke. Her voice softens.

3. "Why don't more women arm themselves if it's so effective?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "What makes you think we haven't?" She smiles. "Heh. The truth is that almost everyone in this life is scared and tired and stupid and too *dull* for that."

"That goes for men too, but they put on an act for us. Pretend like everything's good and living in shit doesn't bother them. Like anyone falls for that."

"Behold!" (Point to *The Expression* on your face.)

"I'm a proper man. Believe me."

"True. Most people I've met are scared."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - Her eyes meet yours and suddenly she starts laughing. It's hoarse. As if she hasn't laughed in a while.

SUGGESTION [Easy: Success] - Not bad.

"Do you like it?"

"Find someone else to laugh at, I'm not a clown!"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Sure." Her face straightens. "It looks as if you could face-down any horror in the world with that same unchanging grin. It's like a shield."

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) [Medium: Success] - The traces of her laughter are still there -- in her eyes, fading fast.

4. "So where are all the men now?" (Proceed.)

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Some went to patch their wounds, their lesson learned, others were more thick-headed..." She looks down. "And one of them I ended up marrying."

"Wait, why? If they're thick-headed..."

"Where's your husband now?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Guess I enjoyed the way he bled." Her expression doesn't change. It's hard to say if it's a joke.

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - If it is, then why the melancholy?

"Where's your husband now?"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone? Coward! I would never leave anyone."

"He disappeared? Sounds like a missing persons case."

KIM KITSURAGI - "It absolutely does not," the lieutenant quietly interjects. "We are *not* going to look for him."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "No, no. There's nothing to find. He's dead. Lost to the waves."

"That's bad… What happened?"

"Oh..." Say no more. Wait for her to continue.

"He died? Was he… murdered?"

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant shakes his head again.

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Yeah, by himself. Inadvertently." She continues with a frown. "He never respected the sea. Went out there drunk like a skunk and sure enough one day he didn't come back."

"Now, before you tell me how sorry you are for my loss, know that it was four years ago and I've moved on. There's only so much mourning you can do for a drunk with sinewy muscles."

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Medium: Success] - She really liked those muscles though. It's in the way she pronounces 'sinewy'.

"Yeah, death is nothing. I shit on death."

"Time really is the best cure for sorrow, isn't it?"

"It's healthy to let go and move on. Gotta keep the wheels spinning."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Us working folk don't have the luxury to be bed-sick with melancholy." She crosses her arms. "I buried him, mourned for an appropriate amount of time, and went on."

"Life didn't really change that much for me and the kids…" She glances at the village where two little kids are playing with what look like rocks.

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - This is neither a touchy nor a very interesting topic for her.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Easy: Success] - She looks like she's ready to go on a date with another -- better! -- drunk. Ask her. Both of you could need some action.

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - Do it! Hit on the widow! It's the *right* thing to do.

3. "So I take it that's your skiff?" (Point at the overturned boat.)"

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Sure is. *The Sun* I call her. Coated with a fresh layer of tar just yesterday. It'll take some time for it to dry, assuming the sunny days continue."

"Sunny days?" (Put your hand in the rain.)

Say nothing.

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Aye." She looks at the rain circles on the water. "*Sunny* days. You got a problem with that?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "No, ma'am. We have no quarrel with sunny days."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "Good. 'Twould have been bad news had it turned out it wasn't a sunny day. Bad news for the skiff. Bad news for the nets. Bad news for the kids."

There's a moment's silence. She looks at the rain streaming down the yellow belly of the boat.

"When do you think the boat will be ready?"

"Khm... I wanna ask you something else."

LILIENNE, THE NET PICKER - "In time," she replies with a nod and adds: "When the sea turns and the winds settle she will be ready."

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - My prediction? It will be at least two days.

We've unlocked a new check.

3. [Suggestion - Heroic 15] She needs to go on a date with *another* drunk. Badly.

-1 Kim's presence makes it awkward. -6 Don't have a good spot yet (EXPLORE THE COAST).

Looks like it's a good idea to come back to this one later.

4. "Be seeing you." [Leave.]

This boat is floating freely in the water, unmoored.

Let's check out our new lodgings.

SHACK DOOR - The door has seen better days -- the layer of paint has started to peel off due to the salt and wind from the sea. Even the lock looks slightly rusted.

Unlock the shack door with the key.

Never mind. [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "I'll wait outside to give you some time and privacy to check out your new living arrangement. But just so you know..."

"After we're done with the day, I'll still be staying in the Whirling-in-Rags for the night. We'll meet in front of the shack in the morning."

SHACK DOOR - The key turns with a satisfying click. You can enter the shack now.

🎵 Coastal Shack

The floorboards creak under your step.

Old science fiction magazines. Books about birdwatching. An almanac from '39.

This intricate heat engine hums quietly, giving out pleasant warmth.

You see the waves, the sea, a church...

KOROJEV JACKET

+1 Logic: Checkmate

This swanky checkered jacket flatters your form in a way that makes you feel the *fun* kind of serious. It has really nice, roomy pockets, too.

MIRROR - An old mirror hangs on the wall. You see the reflection of your face in it -- adorned with *The Expression.*

We can attempt the mirror checks from here, though we still need to unlock them.

WASHBASIN - On the table you see a bowl of water, a rough soap, and next to it a small hand mirror. A straight razor soaks inside the wash basin.

Is shaving the right call?

[Hand/Eye Coordination - Medium 10] Time to shave. Get these mutton chops off.

[Leave.]

WASHBASIN - The water reflects back a vague image of your face -- nose bulbous and red, hair unkempt, wrinkles lining the eyes and forehead. The 'stache is gigantic.

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - A fresh start looms ahead. Clean yourself up and be born anew.

[cherrysoulth]

What Hides In The Shadows - Chapter 3: WISE IMMORTALITY

🩸 You'll know the powers given to you. 🩸

💕Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

✏️Genre/au: Vampires, Alternative universe (Future of humanity), Sci-fi, Horror, Romance, Action, Vampires vs. Hunters

✏️Rating: PG 18+, explicit

📝Wordcount: 3117

⚠️chapter warnings: Gore, blood erotism

<<<𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 2 | 𝕸𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 4 >>>

After a pregnant silence in which he ate and you just sat down absentmindedly, Jungkook came back, left a book in front of your empty glass and sat down to eat too. When you finally found your mind, you wondered.

"If I decide to stay—"

"I'm listening," said Taehyung once he'd swallowed, meeting your eyes for just a split second, still bothered. You understood you had offended him.

"Will you promise to answer my questions truthfully, no matter how harsh the answer is?" you questioned.

"I think I've been sincere enough till this moment for you to question that.” This time, the irritation transpired on his tone. “Now, if you are going to ask me again why I made you, we can get you a new mentor straight away. I said all I had to say on that matter," he added adamantly. ‘If you’re only my mentor you have a very questionable way to show it…’ you thought, surprising yourself. His eyes lingered on your face, studying you for a second before you spoke.

"Ok. Understood," you said, giving up temporarily. He seemed to relax a bit but it was difficult to tell from his stiff position on the chair. "I have another petition though." he simply nodded. "Can you promise not to use your influence on me?" There he left the chopsticks over the table and turned his upper body to face you, tangling his fingers together on top of the dark wooden surface.

"No. I can't promise that when I'm the only thing that can stop you from killing someone and putting all I care about at risk." he replied calmly. Although he seemed to be expecting an objection, you couldn't, fearing that possibility too. The killing part, at least. "Especially since you've not changed fully yet." your eyes widened. "But, I can promise you, I will only use it when it's strictly necessary—"

"You said I'm not done…?" you breathed out. If you wouldn't have known better, you would have hyperventilated but you kept it together, trying not to think about the pain.

"No, you're not. You're just poking your little baby fangs right now. Your system is still processing the change. Your brain has to adjust. This is not an overnight thing, you were born one way and the bane I placed on you is causing everything in you to change. That requires, at least, some time and, not going to lie, pain too. You'll keep trying to do everything as if you were a human but you're not, and your body won't respond equally. Your bones, nerves, tendons, any internal tissue really, is being upgraded." He made a pause for you to process what he was saying. "The change works fast on the surface, with its own symptoms, like you begin to act as the new thing you’re becoming but internally, as I said, takes time. How long?” He read the question written on your face. “It'll depend on how much energy your cells can take from what you consume. So you'll have to drink plenty of blood if you want it to be quick and get it over with," he explained. His words made you look at your hands and nails, then touch your retracted fangs, assimilating. The elastic skin in your gums that allowed the fangs to move in and out without allowing anything else to enter, feeling slightly different than the rest. Upper, the length of the fang could be felt through and you were astonished. "Try to not press them down with your fingers. It can cause tendinitis and it will hurt like hell. You heal fast, yes, but your fangs won't retract then, so it'll be very uncomfortable and difficult to hide what you are for a while." you had left your mouth alone with the first sentence but at that point, you felt like not touching them again.

"Then I won't," you muttered. "I have another question…”

“What do you wish for?” he wondered.

“Maybe it’s weird, I don’t know,” you said but he only waited for you to speak. “About the blood… Does it all taste the same?" that made Jungkook stop eating and look at you. "I mean, I get the kind of oxide taste it's the same because I've licked a wound before but your blood…" you involuntarily touched your lips with the tip of your fingers, your sight getting lost nowhere as you remembered. "The taste of your blood… It had this undertone— Not that I would know what mine was since I wasn’t—What I am now... But it changed its flavor while I was drinking—” your fingers slid down over to your throat. “It had this kind of— Like— Like when you lick a melting vanilla ice cream in summer. Only your blood was warm— but that slide on my tongue was there, like a creamy, mild, and sweet sensation. And I was wondering—"

Jungkook cleared his throat. "If you'll excuse me," he said with a tense tone. Then he stood, left his dishes on the washing machine, and walked out of the room as you followed him with your eyes. He never met yours.

“Did I say something?” When you tilted your head back to Taehyung for answers, his eyes were set on you. Dark lust stained the blue of them and there was a sort of energy flood between you. “Are you using—What did I do?” you wondered in confusion.

“No…” he said with a fanged smirk. “What you feel, it’s just us. Chemistry.” Suddenly, you felt a need to stand and go to him but it stopped immediately. “That was.”

“Wow…” you whispered and swallowed instinctively. “So, I said something,” you confirmed.

“You did.” His way of lengthening the moment made your skin crawl and your fangs show.

“Can you— break it to me?” you asked as your breath hitched involuntarily. He chuckled in response and wore them down, eyes slowly fading from the ice blue to their natural dark tone.

“Ok.... The way you spoke it was erotic...” Your eyes widened.

“So I basically turned you on,” you confirmed with a cocky smile.

“Me— and Jungkook.” your eyes bulged at his admission and your smile wore off immediately, and so did your fangs. “You’ll learn to see those things easily now if you couldn't before. But to ‘break it to you’, you could walk naked in front of any male vampire and most of us would just ignore it. Not me, I wouldn’t be able to. Wouldn’t try either.” he admitted shamelessly and you couldn’t avoid the the warmth focusing in your cheeks. “But when it comes to blood, we really can’t ignore it. It’s our food, our energy source, and for some reason we— Well, get off on it.” you blushed harder, the naive way in which you had said those words and the way they meant to sin, making you feel sloppy all of a sudden.

“No joking with blood then,” you finally concluded, your eyes diverting to his throat, invited by the conversation.

“No, no joking, ” he stated slowly and lowered an octave. He was smirking and began to bite his bottom lip seductively. You swallowed again, your lips parted for a shallow breath, and your heart rate accelerated as a response. “We don’t talk about it openly as we would do with most subjects, the feeding, I mean. It’s kind of personal and since it used to imply murder, it still stays as a very delicate matter. You know, we used to think that the more we spoke about it, the more unsensible to it we could become, and then it could turn into a greedy act— It’s probably the taboo itself that's turned it into something so— Alluring. But I won’t shame you for speaking. Just keep those thoughts for me, hm? Knowing the effect…” The way his words were flowing through his tongue felt like a caress on your body. He smirked again.

“How are you doing that?” you wondered.

He blinked in bafflement and seemed almost innocent. Suddenly, he chuckled to himself as he looked away to clear his throat. “Sorry, I got lost in the moment,” he admitted. “I’ll teach you all those little tricks when we are done with the basics.”

“This is so interesting.” Carving with his eyes in yours, he nodded for you to proceed. “So, blood does or does not taste the same?”

“No, it doesn’t but this, I’m sure you can figure it out,” he explained but you only stared at him clueless. “Okay, let me put it this way. Wagyu beef is the best in the world, right? Why is that?” he rhetorically asked. “Because those cattles are well fed and taken care of, like royalty cows. So their meat is more marbled. If you extrapolate that to humans, not that I’m saying they are livestock, we can say that the most healthy ones, the ones that take good care of themselves, the happiest are the ones that taste better. Popular opinion, of course. The hormones in the blood are what determines the taste. That’s why our ability to charm and attract a person is given to us. You can create a sort of illusion of happiness, and get them high on you. Besides its main purpose which was for them not to scream and alert their group.” You were about to interrupt him. “Theory first, be patient," he concluded.

“I’m intrigued. Would then a scared person taste bad or not as good? What happens if a person is ill?” you wondered.

“It’s not that it tastes bad but it tastes bitter. I personally prefer the honeyed sweetness that comes with seduction or arousing a person. It's similar to us, we also have hormones traveling our bloodstream and it can change its taste. What you described as melting vanilla ice cream, was that one I have a preference for...” he confessed and you nibbled at your lower lip, thinking about his blood again and understanding now what you tasted was his want for you. He gleamed. “But that’s like a preference. Some vampires like to scare their victims before getting a nibble. Never in a way that produces suffering or any pain or to humiliate the subject though. Just in a way, they can get that taste in the blood. Hunting without using attraction, as it is, does it for them. As I told you, we are not cruel, maybe mischievous but not in a bad way. ” he spoke. “You're not eating, love, the food is getting cold–” he suddenly cut off the conversation and used his chopsticks on a beef-stuffed dumpling to feed you. It tasted heavenly. Your eyes closed as you slowly chewed. You could tell apart flavors and textures in a way you had never done before. “Since you are still changing and getting used to your senses, they might be temporarily inconsistent. Your body is smart, but you can still get overwhelmed and blocked so take it easy on yourself," he recommended. "I bet the taste is more overpowering than what you are used to.” You opened your eyes to see him holding his head on his knuckles with his elbow over the table, looking at you with amusement. "Now you’re given a whole range of possibilities that were numb to you as a human, probably fated to always stay like that.” He paused to open the Chardonnay that stood in a bucket next to the table. He served both your glasses and one for Jungkook. You instinctively looked at the door. “He’ll be back. It’s not like he’s doing anything with what you said,” he said nonchalantly but you flustered at how he’d blurp it without a care in the world. “It was picturesque but not enough to work with,” he insinuated, making you wheeze, then giving up to a nervous laughter. “Are you scandalized? I didn’t say anything,” he smirked.

“Not directly,” you giggled with sarcasm and then he laughed too, and displayed his boxy smile. “So, what about the sick?” you asked after he fed you again. He exhaled a long contemplation before he spoke.

“You’ll kill them.” Your eyes went wide and your lips parted. “You do understand our purpose of existence, right? Since you’re a child of The Guardians, you must know a lot more about us than the general population. I know there’s a program–” You opened your mouth to question how he knew who you were. “I'll get to that in another moment, it's irrelevant right now,” he replied, seemingly guessing what you were about to ask, surprising you, and waiting for your objection to his knowledge. "So, I’m sure they’ve taught you that our existence is a sort of plague control. Of course, with some adding that we are not to befriend. The first is a fact. Everyone has that in mind. The second," he scoffed. "Well, it's because they can’t guess how we work as a whole and fear how difficult it is to stop us if we choose to attack. How we might choose who lives and who dies." He makes a small pause and takes a sip of the bubbly drink, although you can feel he's not done talking. "Attacking an ill person makes sense as a natural equilibrium kind of thing and since your kin has fought very hard to make deadly diseases less deadly, we would be the biggest natural threat to that balance. For those killings, if done, the flavor is completely irrelevant. You are inclined because it's easy, not appealing,” he explained then took a sip and fed you again. “When we drink we can drink until we are full or not. There’s always a choice. If you drink as much as possible to satiate your thirst, you will kill the person, even if it’s healthy. You’ll need at least three liters per day. One and a half liters per feed means two feedings a day. The amount you take depends on your own thirst but anything further than that is a great loss of blood for one victim alone, and if it doesn’t receive treatment straight away or eventually, the person will die.” You couldn't fathom the severity of feeding and its true consequences. It seemed as though there was a dangerous, very thin line between life and death. To someone new like you, it seemed impossible to achieve the right measure while succumbing to the need for blood. “If you choose a weak or ill person, you’ll just kill it. Even if you don’t get to those amounts, you’ll cause that person a loss of blood that needs to heal from whatever it has. So, it’ll get worse and worse until it dies.” he explained. "Naturally, animals won't choose an ill victim, just weaker ones, but human illnesses do not affect us. The most you can get from drinking a virally infected person's blood is a sort of cold. Basically, your blood fights whatever disease that blood may have, but it's so fast it might last only an hour or two up to twelve. Not much more than that. HPV, HIV, cold, flu, or sorts won't affect us because; either our body is immune or has weapons to fight it. All of it’s scientifically proven, of course. Funny little experiments as simple as using a sample of blood from any of us and trying to infect it. You could watch it like a match on your TV but you always know who wins. Hell, we can't even get anthrax, for that matter." You were astonished with how mundane it seemed to him.

“Wow– I feel like I should thank you now– Thank you!" you expressed despite the lack of ability to convey better words to say. He only smiled and shook his head, resting his back on the seat in a less rigid position. He smiled at the appreciation, and a comfortable silence soon followed as you exchanged a lingering glance. He brushed some of your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear, while his thumb gently caressed your cheek and trailed down to your chin. The longing in his eyes, as they dipped from yours and down to your lips, revealed he was eager to kiss you again. However, you fought the urge and shook off the heavy exchange as the need to learn more about what you were becoming overtook, "But-- What about cancer?"

"That's the tricky part of it all. Immune system-caused cancers don't affect us, there's only a one-in-a-million chance we'll have a gene failure-produced cancer but untreated or untreatable radiation can provoke it, so we are not immune to it. As to if that would kill us? Most likely won't and we have a high rate of invasive treatment survival, so we can get it sorted that way." he explained. "We adapt easily to most circumstances. Just remember, anything that damages the brain will, most likely, kill you. So, be careful with that too. We are not Gods. Don't lose your ground because your worst enemy is your own stupidity."

"Noted… But I'm curious, would any of you have survived to Chernobyl or Hiroshima, intact?" you wondered.

"None of our kind was in Chornobyl, but I can tell you there were some next to Hiroshima and they are still breathing with no sizable side effects from the bomb or the residual radiation. They were treated when it happened and that was all of it," he explained and fed you again with another type of dumpling. "But they never moved on from the things they saw. The destruction– You can imagine," he interrupted himself when you looked concerned.

The silent reigned after that but the way he seemed to drift in deep thought made you wonder if he had just concealed him being one of the affected. You wondered how many things he would have seen and if he had been by any means accountable for the Shadow Nights. That was what made you realise one fundamental fact, you didn't know a thing about him, not even his age.

I hope you enjoyed this. Let me know your thoughts and reblog to let it spread 😊 See you soon! ~

Thanks you for the back and forth while doing the beta @heathfritillary. ILY💜

© 2021-2022 Cherry Soulth, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[aroadcalledsobriety]

Here's to Us | A Stranger Things FanFiction

Chapter 3

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Flickering lights and a blonde with a nose bleed sends Joan Destiny back in time to 1985 as Joan Agatha, supposedly her aunt whose existence she had never heard about before. A fan of Back to the Future and Doctor Who, Joan knows how changing the course of the future could end for her, so she decides to act the part - no matter how hard it can be. Between Russians, drug dealers, and interdimensional monsters Joan is left with one question...

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏᴀɴ ᴀɢᴀᴛʜᴀ? ¿ɐɥʇɐɓ∀ uɐoſ oʇ pǝuǝddɐɥ ʇɐɥM

"Is this why uncle Steve is called uncle Steve?!" Joan hissed out loud in horror, the thought of having to kiss - or worse - her uncle being almost too much to bare. A groan escaped her lips as she plopped into her rickety wooden desk chair and tossed the picture back onto her desk. "Why him of all the Steve's?!"

"Are you still upset about your break up with Steve?" Dustin seemed to appear out of nowhere in her room, inevitability scaring the shit out of the older teen and sending her into panic. Her rather pitiful reaction was ignored by her brother. "Because me too. I wanted Steve to be my brother after you graduated by marriage so that he could never escape me, but you had to ruin it."

"Me?!"

Dustin rolled his eyes and it occurred to her sliver of amusement that everyone was right about her dad having toned down over the years with his mischief and teasing ways. "Yes, you." His hand waved up and down towards Joan in emphasis, as if her whole body was the problem. 

"Whatever you did for Steve to break up with you at the beginning of summer you should take it back. Immediately. I want my nieces and nephews to have glorious hair."

"Why are you in my room, twerp?" Joan decided to ignore the Steve problem for now. It was such a relief to find that no she was not dating her future-uncle, but still made her feel icky that she once did date her future-uncle. "Don't you have friends or something?"

Dustin had decided this was an invite to further invade her space - Joan was missing the beauty of being the only child with a door lock at this point - and plopped down onto her admittedly pretty floral bed. Unconsciously, her hand dove into her pocket to pull out her phone, but to her horror she realized that this was 1980-whatever, no cell phones much less smartphones until much much later.

"That's why I've come to invade your room." Dustin said seriously towards his sister. Joan crossed her arms and raised an eyebrows if saying go on. "I have a proposition worth your time and energy."

"Proposition?" God her dad was the same person even as a tiny little shit.

"Yes." Dustin snapped and pointed at his sister with both hands as if he were a salesman. Honestly, he could have been one.. or be one? "You drive me to Mike's house tonight and you can join us in our campaign, just like you used to. Will said you can be the cleric and since we're only a few sessions in, you can quickly reach our skill levels in no time-."

"Dustin, you don't have to bribe me to take you to your friends." Joan interrupted with a roll of her eyes. She eyed the kid with a smirk and crossed her arms over her chest at the look of incredulous on his face as he walked over and matched her arms over his own chest.

"...Who are you and what have you done to my sister?" Dustin said seriously with narrowed eyes. Joan's heart skipped a beat, definitely skipped a beat, at the accusation and swallowed thickly. "Why are you being so nice?" Was she not usually nice? 

Was that why they never talked about the Henderson sister in the future?

"Is it because of Steve?" Joan rolled her eyes and stood up form her chair, ignoring the child and left the bedroom, hoping her response was enough for Dustin. Dustin quickly followed beside the girl, not bothered by the attitude once again. "Do you feel upset about my older man friend breaking up with you, so you're hoping that by being on my good side I'll put a good word in for you so that you and Steve-o can become a thing once again? Because that would totally work and I have-!"

"Jesus, Dustin, do you ever shut up for more than 5 minutes?!" Joan moaned out, already finding the younger version of her father insufferable. Now back in the kitchen she turned towards Dustin and grabbed him by the shoulders firmly, Dustin wisely shut up now that hands made contact with his body. "Look, I-I'm over Steve, it's not a big deal, so stop bringing it up-."

"But, you guys were-!"

"-shut up or I won't drive you anywhere for the rest of the month." Joan hissed out and Dustin nodded his head quickly with wide eyes. She sighed, closing her eyes and counting to three. "I'm taking you to Mike's on one condition only."

When she was sure she had Dustin's attention, Joan backed away slowly and Dustin stayed nearly frozen in his spot waiting for whatever his sister wanted from him so he could get to his friend's house.

"Leave me in peace for the weekend."

"Deal." Dustin agreed quickly before scrambling to his room to get his things, calling out his wake, "I'll be ready in T minus five minutes!" Joan rolled her eyes and looked at the mirror on the hallway wall with a frown.

It was definitely her body staring back at her. From the tiny scar on her forehead from when she was 12 and thought she could jump from the roof of her house to the nearby tree, to the weird freckle below her chin, and down to the pimple she felt this morning on her temple... quickly, Joan made her way to her bedroom and hurriedly went through her closet for anything but what she had on currently.

"Dad! Watch how far I can jump!"

"How far you can what-? Oh shit!"

"I-is it okay if my leg bends this way?!"

"O-oh sweet Jesus..."

She looked in horror at the cheer outfits and bright colors littering here closet, trying find anything with a neutral tone or not made of jean to throw on, but none glance at her a photo next to her close of her wearing neon made Joan want to throw up. She settled with high waisted jeans and an atrociously yellow crop top before stepping out to find her, uh, mother. 

"Uh, mom?" The woman wasn't hard to find with her cats onto of her in front of the boxed television set and Joan tried to take in the scene around her. The home wasn't too different from her time, but there were significantly more photos of the mystery sister that was Joan Agatha Henderson. "I'm taking Dustin to uh, where am I taking you?!" Joan hollered out to Dustin, already forgetting where they were going.

"Jesus, woman. I'm right here." Dustin complained, rubbing his right ear where Joan and turned to yell. Joan rolled her eyes, gesturing to their mom. "We're going to Mike's house."

"Alright, sweeties. Keys on the counter. Drive safe and be home by 11:00, both of you!"

The brother and sister rushed out after their goodbyes and Joan slowed down to watch which car Dustin would go to and followed him to the older one of the two. Unlocking the old metal car, Joan quickly wished a black hole would swallow her whole.

Stick shift.

She could do this, right?

"Break, ignition, clutch.."

"You got your license a month ago and you already forgot how to drive?!" Dustin called out incredulously as the car stalled and he watched his sister whisper the instructions to herself as she tried again.

"Shut up, dork!" Joan snapped with a red face. "I-I know how to drive, okay!?"

"Then why aren't you clutch to floorboard?!" Dustin snapped back, pointing down at her feet in emphasis. There was a tense silence between the two before Dustin let out a huff of air and sat back in his seat. "Press the clutch to the floorboard."

"What?"

"Clutch to floorboard! Jesus, woman! Are you deaf?!"

"Tiny little shit..."

"Turn the key... break... shift the gear, no no, shit, no, like that! Are you trying to kill us?!"

The irony of this was that here she was being taught how to drive by her dad for the second time and he was just as stressful half the size as he was full size. But, just like when she first started driving, Joan was quick to pick it up, both Hendersons throwing their arms up in excitement with a matching whoop! 

With a grin, Joan peeled out of the driveway and followed Dustin's instructions to Mike's houses, ignoring his jabs at how could she forget how to drive and his friend's house? She paused at the familiar two story home.

She had been here only a few time for birthday parties and a sleep over or two, but indeed there it was. Ryan and Harry Wheeler's grandparents had lived here all their lives and since her dad and their dad were childhood best friends, it wasn't an abnormal thing for her to be over here on the occasional Fourth of July or birthday party.

"Are you going to come in?" Dustin popped up at her open window, sending her heart to beat sporadic once again. "Seriously dude? You're going to get scared every time you see me from now on? That hurts."

"Oh shut up, you dork." Joan snapped out, turning off the car and getting out. There was such much more she hadn't seen and didn't know... the house was so much nicer than the decades that would come after it. "Who's, uh, DMing for you guys?"

"Will, duh." Dustin replied with a roll of his eyes and knocking the secret knock. "We're going to finish this before I go off to camp next month so that there's no long break in between campaigns. That's not fun for anyone."

"You're telling me." Joan snorted, thinking back to the last time they kept a campaign throughout the Christmas break before the club discovered and her notes were terrible. It was a disaster and they had to scrap the whole play and start over again with the same world build, much to everyone's annoyance.

"What would you know? You haven't played since you decided you were too cool for the nerd shit." His hands did a mocking form of quotations even though he had his arms full.

"Just, uh, sympathy, I guess."

"Yeah, whatever, it's-."

The door opened and Dustin wasted no time shoving himself inside towards the basement with shouts of, "I brought the goods, I repeat, I brought the goods!" leaving Joan to blink with wide eyes as a mess of raven hair quickly followed Dustin down the stairs. The teen closed the front door slowly before making her way down the basement stairs as if she was on auto pilot.

It was surreal.

Chattering around the table were all of her dad's friends minus a few and she stared with wide eyes at her own friend's parents acting like children. It wasn't the attitude that through her off guard, they always acted childish, but the looks of them that made it so unsettling.

"Shut up, Lucas! You got the corner piece last time, it's my turn!"

"They're brownies! They're should be like four corner pieces!"

"Yeah, well, my mom and bitch of a sister already ate three of them. I'm pretty sure she was high."

"Joan got high?!"

"No way, dude."

"Yeah." Dustin nodded rapidly with a look of seriousness on his face and brownie crumbs littering his chin. "Mom's like, super pissed. I think she's addicted to cocaine."

"Nah, she's a cheerleader, man! There's no way, I think it would be weed."

Joan felt her eye twitch from her spot on the stairs, staring down at the group of four and tried to use Kaleigh's powers to flip tables and choke the shit out of her brother. But alas, she was not special.

Brynnyn looked just like her father, Joan mused at the miniature Uncle Lucas arguing about whether or not she did cocaine or weed. The army definitely gave him some muscles over the years and he still had that confrontational, offense attitude that was passed onto his daughter.

"She doesn't even smoke cigarettes, guys." Mike Wheeler interrupted with a roll of his eyes and a scoff. "There's no way that Aniza the Good would even touch a blunt or powder."

If she ever got out of here, she was giving Mr. Wheeler a huge hug and birthday card.

"She hasn't played in, like, three years. She's probably changed a lot." Will said matter-of-factly, yet quietly. The statement was fair, Joan supposed, but it still bothered her that these group of boys who would soon be family thought that she was a drug addict.

"I'm telling you assholes. I watched her wipe her nose and everything! I'm pretty sure there was a little bit of white dust there too and I don't think it was from powdered donuts, if you know what I mean."

"No, Dust-bin. I don't understand." Joan stepped down the stairs, making herself known and relishing in the unmasked horror on the little twerps' faces. Arms crossed, she towered over the boys with narrowed eyes, landing on the other Henderson. "Please do tell me what your bitch of a sister did?"

"Oh shit."

[alexie-writes]

Extra Ordinary Chapter 11

A/N: I can't even begin to apologize for this extended hiatus, I've had terrible writer's block. I really hope that this chapter turned out well enough, considering how long it took!!

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Chapter Eleven: Aftermath

By the time Michael woke up, it was almost noon. Essie hadn’t slept the entire time, sitting on the floor near Michael’s bed, her mind reeling over every possible worst case scenario. Honestly, it was shocking that after her panic attack in the bathroom when they first arrived, she hadn’t had another one.

Her mind was telling her every possible terrible thing that could’ve happened to Taylor and Mrs. Vey. She knew her face betrayed all of her emotions, the only reason her aunt hadn’t asked her if she needed anything in the past couple of hours was because she had her head down, facing away from everyone. She’d spent the past several hours waiting for Michael to make any noise to signal that he was awake.

To her right, she heard Michael groan in pain, and she stood up. Ostin was next to her in an instant, whispering Michael’s name to see if he was awake.

Michael turned to them, eyes bleary, squinting against the sunlight that was streaming in from the window behind them. He looked around, and Essie’s face fell as she realized they were going to have to tell him what they’d found.

“Where am I?” he asked in a whisper.

Mrs. Liss answered from the other side of the room, a sympathetic look on her face, “Honey, you’re in the hospital,”

“How did I get here?”

“Paramedics,” Ostin answered quietly.

“We came back outside and you were on the ground, we were afraid to move you,” Essie said, voice shaking.

“You had passed out,” Mrs. Liss continued. “The doctors were afraid you had a stroke.”

“Where’s my mom?” Michael asked, looking around the room.

Essie covered her mouth with her hand, attempting to hold back a sob. Luckily, Mrs. Liss was able to remain calm, and asked, “Do you remember what happened?”

Michael closed his eyes as if in pain, “There was a guy with a gun. Then this man with two kids. One of them shocked my mother.” Michael said, choking on his words. Essie’s eyes widened in horror, as she tapped Ostin’s hand. He looked at her, having realized the same thing.

Mrs. Liss spoke up from across the room again, “Shocked? What do you mean?” She looked at the three like she was worried the hospital had given Michael something that was messing with his brain. Essie couldn’t even be bothered to even think about the type of overprotective her aunt would be after this event, she was too worried about how they were going to break the news to Michael.

Michael looked at the other teens, “Did I dream that?”

Ostin shrugged. “I only saw the gunman.”

Essie looked away, she hadn’t had the chance to tell Ostin the reason she hurried him was because she’d seen a flash.

“Is my mother okay?” Michael asked them.

Ostin looked away from him, not able to answer.

“She’s okay, isn’t she?” Michael asked with an urgent tone, turning to Mr. and Mrs. Liss.

Mrs. Liss walked over to him, taking his hand to comfort him. She began to cry quietly, “I have some bad news, honey. Your mother’s gone.”

Michael stared at her, unblinking, “What do you mean?”

Mr. Liss spoke up for the first time since Michael woke, “The police believe she’s been kidnapped.”

Michael froze. “Why would someone kidnap her?” He stammered out.

“We don’t know.” Mr. Liss said in a surprisingly soft tone for a six foot tall Texan.

Michael began to cry silently, looking around the room in shock. Essie put an arm around his shoulders, trying to comfort her friend. They would find a way to fix this, even if it took all of the time and energy they had. Michael had been through too much in his life, there was no way that any of them were going to let him lose his mother. They’d find her, and they’d make sure the Elgen stayed away from them all, for good.

Mr. and Mrs. Liss left the room to leave the kids to have a moment to talk. Essie looked up at Ostin, eyes burning. “We’ll get her back.” She said to them both, as well as herself.

Ostin nodded, his face the most serious she’d ever seen in the 14 years she’d known him.

“We have to.” Michael sobbed, wiping his tears away to look at his friends. “We just have to figure out how.”

The three nodded, and Essie pulled her cousin into the hug. Michael hugged them back like he was afraid they’d disappear too if he let go.

They sat like that until Mrs. Liss came back in, saying that Mr. Liss had left for work, but she’d gotten them all food from the cafeteria. None of them felt hungry, but Mrs. Liss wouldn’t stop until they all began to eat their food, saying that they were growing children and needed to eat.

Around an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Two policemen entered, both of which Essie saw were easily as old as her grandparents. She vaguely recognized them from last night, though she hadn’t paid much attention to what the officers who took her statement looked like.

The one who seemed to be in charge introduced the both of them. “Michael, I’m Lieutenant Lloyd of the Boise Police Department. This is Detective Steve Pearson.” he motioned to the man behind him, who waved in greeting.

“Hey,” Michael said, looking as though he was already dreading the conversation that hadn’t even started yet.

Lloyd turned to the other three in the room. “We have some questions for Michael. Would you mind waiting outside for a few minutes?”

Mrs. Liss nodded, and motioned for the other two to get up. “Of course. Let’s go, you two.”

Ostin sent Michael a sympathetic look, “See ya, buddy.”

Essie mouthed the words, “good luck,” and sent him a thumbs up as her aunt ushered her out of the room.

She sat near the door, watching the hospital workers walk by, doing her best to make sure she couldn’t hear the words coming from inside the room behind her. She didn’t want to intrude on the conversation, if it was important, she’d be told about it.

Regardless, she wasn’t naive enough to believe that the Boise police had taken down a multi billion dollar corporation and saved her friend’s mother within a few short hours, that was beyond impossible. They likely had no idea who had even taken Mrs. Vey, let alone where to find her.

Less than fifteen minutes passed before the officers left the room. Ostin and Essie immediately ran back into the room. Mrs. Liss stayed out in the hallway to talk with the officers for a little while, leaving the teens to talk for a while.

Ostin spoke up first, “Do they know where your mother is?”

“No,” Michael said, laying back against the hospital bed. “What did you see?”

Essie closed the door as quietly as she could, as Ostin answered, “Hardly anything. When we got to your car, you and that man were lying on the ground and your mom was gone. I didn’t see anyone else. Essie yelled at me to get someone to call 911, so I went back into the restaurant.”

Essie fidgeted with her hands, unsure of how to say the next part, “The reason I rushed us back outside was because I saw a flash!” she blurted out before slapping her hands over her mouth. Well, that’s one way to say it, she guessed.

The two boys looked over at her, surprised. Michael recovered his composure first. “There were three people besides the gunman, a man in sunglasses and two kids our age. The man knew my name. He knew my mom’s and Taylor’s names. He knew about my power.”

Now it was Essie’s turn to look at him in shock.

“How could he have known all of that?” Ostin asked no one in particular, looking around the room while scratching his head.

“I don’t know.”

“He brought kids with him?” Essie asked, slowly beginning to realize something.

Michael nodded, “I don’t think they were his, though. They had electrical powers. At least, one of them did. The man called him ‘Zeus’, he’s the one who shocked my mom.” he bit out the last half of the sentence.

“He could shock like you?” Ostin stage whispered, eyes wide.

“Sort of. Except his electricity left his body. Like lightning.” Michael leaned towards the two of them. “There’s something else I remember. He seemed afraid of the girl.”

Essie tried not to make a comment about the irony of someone named ‘Zues’ being afraid of a woman. Ostin spoke back up, “What did she do?”

“I don’t know. But the closer she got to me the dizzier I felt. Then I passed out.” Michael combed a hand through his hair, and looked away from his friends. “They’re not going to find my mother.” Michael whispered, almost inaudible.

“Don’t talk that way.” Ostin said, though Michael barely acknowledged him.

Michael turned to the two suddenly, “Have you heard from Taylor?”

“No. We haven’t.” Essie said in a low voice, feeling like she was sinking more and more with every second that passed by. “You don’t think…?”

“No.” Michael said quickly. He closed his eyes and lay back in his bed again. “At least she’s safe. It’s a good thing she didn’t come with us.”

Essie couldn’t say anything. She hoped he was right. But at this point, anything could happen.

Taglist:

@sam-vey

[parlerenfleurs]

Hi!

I'm the anon with the Xue Yang&Wei Wuxian ask from a while ago.

Thank you for answering. I am a big Wei Wuxian fan too and I don't like it when he is misunderstood on purpose,to raise up the moral quality of other characters.

But about screenshotting. You've opened my mind!!

So,to me,screenshotting is the worst that you can do. Take someone's words out of context and criticize without ever interacting with the person. Rude anon asks are way above that,in terms of ethics. And angry reblogs would be preferable,instead.

BUT. apparently this is normal practice? So I really want to know now,is it a me thing or a cultural thing?

If you are also from the US I guess it would be a cultural thing. But if you are not,then it could be strictly a me thing,possibly?👀🤯🥸

(about finding your post: it was just in one of the common tags,so it was easy to find)

Well, for starters, no country/culture is a monolith, so don't worry about that anon, but no I'm not from the US, I'm French.

I have no idea if it's a me-thing, but I suspect I've been on the internet longer than you, and it's very simply that I value my tranquillity above drama. What I can tell you is that if you do want to talk about what someone said but you disagree with, if you put their name with it, then it's rude because it paints a target on their back while they may never know where it came from and don't have a chance to respond, or simply block. That's where the angry anons can come from.

On the other hand, cropping out the name is considered the polite and decent thing to do, yes. Same principle as making your own post instead of derailing someone else's.

We can never all agree and sometimes it's cathartic to just... Have a good laugh/sarcasm-fest about something we read that someone said.

But life is too short to care about a few words taken out of context if none of the angry feelings are making their way to me, you know? Social media is largely designed to maximise engagement, and to do that it chiefly exploits anger. It's profitable for sites if users get angry and just... respond.

Anger is paralyzing in the long term, very bad for the body and the brain, and reacting without thought is how useless drama happens. Especially if it's about a fictional character! There are more worthwhile causes to put energy into.

That's why I largely don't follow mdzs blogs. There is too much drama, and I just want to enjoy a good book that brings me joy. An angry reblog would not bring me joy. It would be useless to both parties AND put drama on people's dash. But venting about some words might be a relief, and it has nothing to do with me because they had the decency not to come and bother me about their opinion, that is irreconcilable with mine, so I don't care.

I would advise you to reconsider why you feel it's more ethical to confront someone than to just have your own emotion in your own personal space. When you think about it, this is the difference between shit-talking something you overheard with your friends and going in a stranger's face to start a fight. Which is more ethical? Which is a better use of one's energy and time? Of course a constant state of criticism is toxic and disagreeable, but the baseline is not to make it someone else's problem.

Seems to me you feel like your words, written thoughts, are a part of you, and thus if they are "taken" in this way, and you don't know what they become or how people react to them, then you lose then and thus a part of yourself. Your ego feels threatened, and I mean that in the most neutral way. We all have an ego that feels threatened all the time. The key is to recognise when it's a real threat to our well-being, or just an eternal immature, attention-seeking part of your psyche with irrational views about how the world functions. You'll have an easier time in life, and on the internet, if you take a page out of Budfhism's philosophy, and detach your sense of self from such fickle things as words.

Yes, words have power, and that's why I vastly prefer not to receive angry anons or reblogs, but words are not "me". So it doesn't matter what someone says about them, with no name attached, in my back.

People will react to your existence and your actions. We all can't help doing that. Commenting on a stranger's appearance/behaviour in public, out of earshot, is okay - loudly telling them what you think about it is not. (Talking about harmless behaviour here, of course you can speak up if someone does something dangerous or rude.) Creating a blog dedicated to making fun of an appearance/behaviour with faces or names displayed is even worse.

In this metaphor, what these people did was the first option, and you're saying that you would find it the moral thing to do to do the second one instead, while I'm just happy they didn't do the third.

People will always react, and as long as they don't make their reaction to you your problem, and you don't in return, then the world is a kinder place.

[sassenashsworld]

Nick meet Silver

When the door finally opens, I really don't know who the two of us is the more surprised. In front of me squats with her dog and a single pistol the most amazing person I have seen in several decades, a woman.

Not I haven't seen any women, starting with my sweet secretary Ellie, but THIS woman.

She pierces me with the greenest look I've seen in my life, and this only detail wasn't enough. Her long, very long hair falls down her lower back as if this kind of hairstyle can still be worn in our era, a few locks as pale and shiny as silver going to tickle the hand still holding the 10mm, now aimed at me with uncertainty.

The German Shepherd with the beauty's other arm around his neck seems to understand better than the two bipeds staring at each other without saying a word.

And hell, the bitch is beautiful, there's no denying it. Apart from her long hair that caresses her lower back and her green eyes that seem to catch the little light in the room, she has what are called full lips which look like they were made for kissing. The line of her jaw is cut and even if I suspect a certain malnutrition to be at the origin of the sharpness of her features, her high cheeks and her general demeanor accentuate the impression that she belongs to a race apart.

What the fuck is this pretty lass with a toy in her hand doing in this mess? She must have a partner, this sniper who lightened the spirit of my dear companion of fortune. But then, why doesn't he thaw the atmosphere if his partner plays dumb?

She finally approaches me slowly, still silent, getting up as if she had to burst six atmospheres to get there. She fully enters the light in the middle of the room and that's when I notice the three pink furrows tearing her left jowl, starting in fact from her forehead and crossing her eyebrow to end just a fingertip from her so shiny lips. I need a cigarette, for sure, then I light myself before speaking.

“Gotta love the irony of the reverse damsel-in-distress scenario” did I tell her, making a step in turn. “Question is, why did our heroine risk life and limb for an old private eye?”

She continues to slowly move on, her two delicate eyebrows furrowing. Me who thought to relax the situation she seems to have so much difficulty dealing with with this touch of humor, it becomes downright to cut with a knife. I realize at the same time there’s no partner will appear.

The pretty one is alone.

With her dog.

“What... are you?" she mumbles.

Here we are! I don't know where this weirdo comes from, but it's amazing how quickly mystical energy packs into a few words.

“Told you. I'm a detective. Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain't comforting, but it's not important right now. The only thing that matters is why you went to all this trouble to cut me loose.” She still won't tell me why she came to pull me out of the guts of hell and even if I ask her again, I still get her preferential treatment. “The silent routine isn't getting us anywhere...”

Something lights up in her eyes. A look that disturbs me more than it should, by the way. What's wrong with this girl I can't put my finger on?

“My son Shaun is missing” she throws me in a completely different tone, as if she finally woke up. “He was kidnapped, but I don't know who took him, or where they went.” The more she talks, the more surprised I am. Her tone, her voice, it sounds naive. All her speech is the beautiful classic of the damsel in distress, for what I know. She's touching in her candor but...Candy doesn't smash a bunker stuffed in every corner with mobs armed to the teeth.

When the thing is too amazing, it’s better to go with the flow and observe. I tell myself all things considered, at least I have a savior. I'll try to figure out what's bothering me once out.

“A missing kid, huh? Well, you came to the right man.” What a professional distortion! Come on, Nick, you're not in your office. “If not the right place.” I try to recompose the best I can, more disturb then I first think. “I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak."

Come on, Nick, what's wrong with you? The girl seems out of time, so you take your time? He's pressing though, don't you want to get caught in a mousetrap with the lady and end up in swiss cheese?

“Anyway, you got troubles, and I'm glad to help.” Yet she listens to me as if it's up to me to decide when we leave. “But now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint. Then we'll talk.”

She dares to approve. Miss Silver turns on her heels and raise her gun, returning in the bowels of the vault by carefully avoiding open spaces and light.

"Malone's crew here used to be small time, muscled out of the old neighborhood by bigger players.” I can't help but provide the girl. “Until they found this place. Don't know what happened to the previous owners, but they're not exactly around to charge rent. An empty vault. Perfect hideout."

Ok, I like to chat, but for once, I feel out. This girl, she's weird, she makes me feel weird, but I don't know if it's scary yet. I get some glance occasionally as if she’s recording everything I say. Unable to understand her, I fall back on what I can and therefore analyze the current situation (Silver Ranger notwithstanding). Anyway, she walks quietly without saying anything. So quietly then I could hear some footsteps coming in our direction.

"Hold up! I hear some of them coming.” We crouch on the edge of a wall, having the cafeteria in front of us, when we see three thugs landing in the room. “There they are. How do you want play this?"

I don't know at this point I'm about to swallow my quid and probably a few teeth.

She passes like a ghost by my side, and it allows me to get a better view of her weapon while she was in my sight. A long snake as green as her eyes has been painted there. A clue? I have no time to ask myself, the dog growls in one direction and immediately, the detonation of the weapon is followed by a strange gurgling then a collapsing body.

I didn't even figure out where the bad guy was standing.

He is dead.

“Hard and loud, huh? Well, it gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors...”

I still don't know who I'm dealing with but get to know she doesn't respond with words, of course, why bother communicating in such a non-distracting way.