#it hit as close and powerfully as possible. the realization that you are not as hard of a weapon as you think you are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderedbdimagines · 3 years

Note

Fem survivor hiding in a locker, and Nightmare, Oni and the Shape can’t get in. I once had a bug a long while ago where the killers couldn’t search a locker. Got patched very quickly of course. I’d like to ask short scenarios about it where the Entity protects her for some reason after the killers saw the opportunity to try and kidnap their beloved for themselves. :P Perhaps to spite/punish the killers? Go wild, and thank you!

--------------------------

Sure thing! And no thanks required at all! 😊 I personally would have laughed my butt off if that ever happened to me, whether killer or survivor. They only game breaking bug I ever had was being stuck on something in Haddonfield(can’t remember what). The killer couldn’t get to me either, and I had to disconnect after I had tried everything I could think of at the time, not wanting to ruin the game for the others. Good times…

-------------------------

The Nightmare

You curse from underneath your gasping breath as a low chuckle reaches your ears, your heart hammering violently against your ribcage as you try to flatten yourself against the backwall of the locker.

He’s seen you get in here, and now you’re about to pay the price if you don’t time the trick Jane has taught you well enough. After all, the others have already been sacrificed, so no one could save you or distract him from the difficult situation you currently find yourself in.

You take a deep, shivery breath and ready yourself just as the killer’s footsteps reach close before trying to slam the doors open as quickly and as powerfully as you can, only for them not to budge in the slightest…

Freddy has heard the distinct thuds of your hands smashing against the wood just as he pulls against the handle, only to have a similar outcome roll out for him too, the sniggering quickly fading into a displeased grunt.

It’s silent for a second…

As you eventually were busy trying to think of another plan when the doors do open, as busy as the Nightmare was trying to pick the lock with a clawed finger. Metal scraping, screeching and ticking against metal brings you on your nerves as you stare at the lock, but you nearly jump out of your skin as the killer suddenly speaks to you with a tone of voice which nearly leaves you shaking in your boots.

“Please doll. It’s rude to stay in there and keep little ol’ Freddy out here waiting.~ Do come out and I’ll promise I’ll be on my best behavior.~”

You hear how he stops rummaging with the lock, listening to the knives running over the chipped paint instead before they tick against the metallic bars making up the outer skeleton of the red locker.

Of course, you’re not convinced.

But you’re not going to tell him that and decide to remain absolutely silent instead, hoping that he’d leave or disappear by some miraculous wonder.

If only it were that easy…

“Come now sweet cheeks.~ Don’t play coy with me. I know you’re still in there and if you don’t open up now I might do something the both of us will regret later. You don’t want that to happen, now do you?”

You think about it for a second before drawing a conclusion. You’re about to voice that out loud before the ground suddenly gives out from underneath you.

You yelp loudly as you find yourself falling into darkness, an angry yell from the Nightmare being heard from above soon after.

And before you could fully comprehend on what was going on, you found yourself face to face with concerned survivors who found you splayed out besides the main camp’s ever familiar stack of burning wood…

The Oni

A cold sweat overtakes your senses as you make yourself as small as you possibly could in the corner of the cramped locker and with wide eyes glued on the wooden doors, unblinking.

You don’t know where the other remaining survivor is. They might have escaped, but they also could have been killed or sacrificed at this point. Either way, you’re in heaps of trouble as you feel the vibrations of heavy footsteps marching briskly into your direction.

The locker budges as the Oni tries to tear the door open with his open hand, only to find it to be locked. It surprises the both of you…

Your heart is beating within your throat at this point as you remain to watch the doors like a hawk, not believing what’s happening right now before your thoughts flash over to the Entity, wondering what its intentions with you are.

Anyhow, you try to think of a plan to escape the Oni in case he does somehow manage to tear open the doors, your fingers brushing over the firecrackers that are bundled up in your pants left pocket. The ones you’ve found and picked up somewhere within the trial.

The said killer, on the other hand, is breathing even heavier than before as you hear his katana evaporate within the air as wisps of black smoke and embers before a large shadow peers through the rosters.

You choke on your breath as the Oni tries to pull open the doors through the help of his monstrous strength in addition to his full weight, the locker screeching and groaning in protest. Your attention is partly diverted as a familiar black mist suddenly coats the bottom of the locker before wrapping you into its cold embrace.

He keeps hanging on whilst shaking violently against the handles, a dark growl shivering the very air.

All you could do was to protect your ears from the loudness of his actions, fear gripping your heart at every clamorous sound and movement.

Yet, you can’t help but to pitch a gasp and a sob as a loud roar now pierces the surrounding area before something huge and bulky is being slammed against the locker’s entirety, feeling the indirect impact of it ripple throughout your frozen body. It is his Kanabo that he’s using out of frustration...

He’s pelting the locker with a barrage of strikes now, the screaming getting louder and louder with each powerful hit.

You close your eyes and shiver violently, scared that the Oni’s about to smash the locker wide open with you still in it.

However, a deafening silence soon overtook you, a heat now washing over your body and an orange light flickering from behind your closed eyelids.

You slowly open them, only to nearly jump up in joy as you come to stare at the flames which could only belong to one particular campfire…

The Shape

Your body is tormented by sweat and your lungs are burning like crazy as you rush straight into the dungeon’s nearest locker as a suicidal attempt to rid yourself from the man in the mask who’s hot on your trail.

The killer deliberately cornered you into the basement by cutting you off at a spot where you’d least expected him to be. And from there, you pretty much ran on raw panic and unadulterated fear as common sense was long since thrown out of the window as derived by your current course of action.

You’re breathing heavily as an all too familiar mask flashes through the splits of the roster, and close your eyes with a silent prayer falling from your lips and with your hands bawling the hem of your shirt into a tight bundle.

But… Nothing happens as you gradually open your eyes back up to the darkness of the world.

Your gaze is now set on the mask that has tilted to the side, seemingly in confusion. You quickly connected the dots afterwards, understanding that the locker’s suddenly been locked by the Entity for some reason just after you have ran into it.

You then hear his knife thwacking against the paint chipped wood before being recoiled by the effects of the impact.

Did he just try to stab the locker?

You feel your blood run cold as your hands start to tremble, realization kicking in…

In panic, you quickly hunch down, not wanting to be pierced by the sharp blade if it does manage to thrust its way through one of the doors like some sort of a magician’s sword and possibly ending your life that way as nasty consequence.

Another thwack follows, and then another.

Like a mindless animal stuck in a looped pattern, the Shape keeps on stabbing his favored kitchen knife against the locker over and over again, not even a single huff or growl of frustration being heard. He’s surprisingly silent, in fact, as he’s trying to cut his way into your awkward confinement…

Only short moments of complete silence are woven in between. Perhaps within those moments, he’s checking if the locker’s been unlocked due to his strange efforts.

You move your body into a sitting position, your hands now holding a flashlight as you closely keep your attention on both doors.

Your eyes quickly got diverted, however, as something cold creeps up your legs.

Michael freezes and his head dips the moment he feels something swirl past his ankles, now witnessing how black heavy smoke escapes through the cracks at the bottom of the locker.

He tilts his head yet again before his free hand reaches for the handle, managing to open the door normally this time, only to learn that you’ve disappeared into thin air…

His fingers twitch against the wooden hilt of his weapon…

#dbd #dead by daylight #reader #insert #kazan yamaoka #oni #michael myers #shape #freddy krueger #nightmare #yandere #dbd x reader

497 notes · View notes

sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.5 (NSFW!)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

'Cassandra's favorite', the other maids call you.

You can't tell if they mean it as a good or a bad thing. Hell, you can't even tell which of the two it really is.

Being her 'favorite' does not make you immune to harm in any way; bruises litter your shoulders and sides from when she grabs you too forcefully and cuts from her nails sting at your neck and stomach, renewed each time she comes to take a kiss.

None of that existed back when you were something of zero interest to her. On the other hand, she's told you several times you're 'a thing of beauty' --her thing of beauty-- and she won't let anything ruin a natural piece of art.

If you know anything about Cassandra, it is that she takes art very seriously. Your interpretation of the word greatly varies from hers, you're sure, but it doesn't change the fact she won't easily raise a sickle on you.

Cassandra won't break you. She won't let Daniela do so, either. Bela doesn't even care to hurt you. It means you're safe for now...

Unless Lady Dimitrescu decides you're best taken away from her daughter. Permanently. You don't dare meet her eyes, but you can feel them on you, scrutinizing, every night at dinner.

You're pretty sure she knows.

The thought sits heavy in your mind while you're cleaning bloodied steps off a corridor at three in the small hours of the morning, along with another maid. Adella is a quiet and hardworking one; the two of you make a good team and you know you'll be done in record time.

But it only takes a single moment for everything to go wrong.

Adella is hastily walking back to you with a bucket of fresh water in hand when you hear a different set of steps approach from the side. You make to warn her, but it's already too late.

The collision happens at the turn where the two passageways meet. As soon as you see black robes dripping wet you pray to whichever God will listen for mercy.

Because Cassandra has not been in a good mood all night and she is not the understanding type regardless.

Adella gasps and shakingly backs away, a waterfall of apologies spilling from her lips. Cassandra rolls her neck and draws her sickle, advancing on her slowly. She looks terrifying.

"Don't move now." she orders.

And you just- can't watch this. You don't know why, but the realization you cannot hits you like a speeding truck. You can't stand there while the the woman you frequently kiss cuts away at a girl you know is as good and compassionate as a human under your circumstances can possibly get.

You react.

Before you can even think how impossibly stupid you're being, you drop the mop in your hands and dash forward, crashing into Cassandra's form. Your right arm wraps around her waist and your left grips at her wrist like a vice. Your heart is pounding. You don't even know what you're saying;

"Cassandra, no! Please. Don't." Cold and rigid as she is, it may as well be a statue you're holding. "Cassandra, stop. Please." Once impulse dies down, you realize you've just signed your death wish for two seconds of playing hero.

And you thought you were smarter than that. Ha. But maybe, just maybe, part of you wants to die, so long as it's quick and painless.

With Cassandra, though, you doubt it. Especially with how lethal she sounds when she says:

"You. Disappear." You hear, rather than see, Adella scurrying off for her life. "As for you..."

You only register a blur, nausea, cold nails piercing at your neck, over already existing marks. You are shoved into the nearest wall so powerfully you can't breathe for all of ten seconds. It's a wonder you don't hear any cracks from within your body.

Cassandra is on you, her fingers harsh on your chin and breath chilly on your lips. "Good pets don't bark against their own masters. What made you so bold, hm?"

You don't answer, too busy summoning your mental strength for what comes next. The way her eyes and the lines of her pretty face have hardened, she looks nothing like the flirty girl who comes to steal kisses from you at random times during the night.

"Maybe I've been too nice to you. The first time you call my name and it's for some other maid?"

She looks like she wants to let out a bitter laugh, break something and slice you into stripes simultaneously. And then you realize; Cassandra is jealous.

It doesn't get any worse than that.

"Maybe I should make sure you never say anything again." The corner of her lips curls up in dark amusement as she talks. "You don't talk much, anyway."

Well. She did say she wouldn't let anyone ruin your looks. Never promised anything about what's on the inside.

You're shaking, even if her grasp doesn't leave much room to do so. Your brain is restlessly trying to come up with something to get you out of this mess-

"I'm of way more use to you with my tongue intact." you somehow manage to speak without stuttering. It makes you wonder where the hell this confidence came from.

Cassandra stills for a moment. Her grip eases the slightest amount, probably from surprise.

You wonder what the hell you're even doing, yourself, when you bring your hands to her sides and lean in, to the curve of her nice jawline. You've never kissed her neck before, but you remember from the times you've given her a massage that she's very sensitive around it.

Cautiously, you press your mouth to the soft spot under her ear.

She smells so good and her skin feels so smooth you're not exactly forcing yourself to kiss her. If you're going to be mutilated anyway, the part of you that must be severely messed up muses, you may as well take some pleasure for yourself beforehand. Who knows, it may change her mind along the way.

So you lick her there and suck over her faint pulse. You don't get any stimuli from her, at first.

Until her hand trails from your shoulder to your nape, urging you harder against her. It's the green light to keep going.

You put all your skill into it as you lavish her neck and collarbones with open-mouthed kisses. She's loose and moaning low in her throat now.

You can't tell why, but the sound echoes right though your adrenaline-induced system, tickles down your spinal cord to pool low in your stomach. You either had a kink for danger you never knew of, or you developed one in the castle.

Whatever the case, your fingers are working on the buttons of her outfit and she doesn't seem like stopping you has even crossed her mind.

When the robes barely hang onto her shoulders, Cassandra maneuvers you to the closest room, shuts the door and presses you against it. Hard. Your lips slide together hungrily. You taste wine on her tongue.

At this point, your hands are the only thing supporting her outfit on her. She looks too fucking sexy for words like this, half-undressed, lipstick smeared, so turned on and ready for you. But you also want to see more of her, so you let the black fabric drop.

She's getting impatient, though. Being more vocal, tugging your hand to the apex of her legs.

"Cassandra." you moan when you push the midnight lace of her panties aside and touch her. She's so wet.

Her mouth falls open in a soundless gasp, brows drawn softly. "Oh, you're lucky I like my name on your lips." she says, breathless.

You did start this trying to prove to her how useful your tongue can be attached to your body, however... so it's only fair that's how you finish it.

Finish her.

Cassandra looks dazed and confused when you kneel in front of her, but it's quickly replaced with a broken moan when you take her into your mouth. You revel in every single gasp you coax out of her, every minuscule shake of her perfect thighs.

She bites into her own hand when she reaches her peak, nails leaving four parallel marks on the wall.

You're gentlewomanly enough to pull her outfit up for her while she's coming down from her high. Your gaze takes its sweet time admiring the contours of her chest as you button it closed. She really is the most attractive girl you've ever seen, if you somehow don't take into consideration her body count.

"Good?" you ask when she opens her pretty eyes to look at you.

"It's not cute to be smug, plaything." Cassandra makes a soft grimace at you, though you can see the lazy, satisfied smile tugging at the corner of her lip. "But. I suppose your tongue has its uses to me, after all."

You gently push off the door to let her exit at her leisure. The movement makes you realize you won't really be able to move tomorrow, with how sore you already are.

To your surprise, Cassandra takes a moment longer in the room.

She turns back to you and raises her hands to your torso, then carefully adjusts your wrinkled shirt. Her long fingers smooth over the imperfections she caused...

And you don't know why after everything the two of you just did, it's this that feels the most intimate.

The same digits brush over your throat as she pulls away.

By the time your mind starts working right again, Cassandra is already gone. Absently, you trace over the weeping scratches on your neck.

Later, at the main hall of the castle...

"Oh, boo, look who's late again." Daniela rolls her eyes at Cassandra's fashionably delayed arrival.

"Surprise, surprise." Bela smirks, casually leaned against the side of the fireplace.

"Are you two done being insufferable or should I come by later?" Cassandra asks.

"And scar our ears and minds with another round of your 'oh's and 'ah's, sister? I think not." Daniela comments.

Bela raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Had a nice time?"

"You two have very active imaginations, you know? Tells a lot about you." Cassandra chuckles. "She was just giving me a massage. But do go on. Be thirsty. I can wait."

Daniela and Bela share a look, thrown off their game by the nonchalance.

Cassandra hides a smirk under her hood and steps out first, into the peerless dark.

#cassandra dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu x oc #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil village #fanfiction #the thirst is real in this one guys #you have been warned

334 notes · View notes

itty-bitty-rampaging-committee · 4 years

Photo

My Top 8 Best Acting Moments from Aidan Gallagher!

Thank You to Anonymous for Requesting

Analysis Below

>>Warning: This is a giant post, so don’t click “read more” unless you genuinely want to read more. Otherwise, you’ll be scrolling for a long-ass time. This analysis covers the acting, psychology, and writing genius of Five Hargreeves.<<

So, this may be the lowest on this list, but it is by no means his weakest acting scene. My god, this scene is incredible because of the accuracy given the age and, henceforth, the experience of the actor.

Acting is effective if the person is able to accurately tell a truth whilst in imaginary circumstances. In order to act powerfully, we are commonly taught to connect complicated emotional situations to something we know well and, therefore, can portray well.

For many, being drunk isn’t anything new. And being tipsy isn’t exactly uncommon to act out. But for a fourteen-year-old, this is awesome to see because it is incredibly accurate. And, given the character’s psychological/emotional status, it’s even more impressive.

Here’s why:

So, right off the bat, listening to Aidan’s speech is something awesome. His clear yet natural slurring, his guttural tone: these two things are perfect indications of intoxication, since volume control is practically gone and drunk people don’t think things through. They just talk, and talk, and stumble because their inhibitions are so low.

It’s can really be heard, best, when he says, “she said it makes me surly” and when Diego whips around, he says, “hmm?”

Another thing that makes this so fun to watch is the fact that Aidan is completely lax. Being carried is one sign of that, yes, but even his subtle movements are loose. He did his homework, not only for the vocalization of someone who is drunk, but also for their movements.

Look how loose his movements are. He just tosses his hand up, lets it drop back down, and his head is too heavy, flopping all around. Completely uncoordinated and smooth, which is a bright contrast to Five’s usual coordinated, sharp, and calculated movements. The character is relatively rigid, which makes sense given his psychology and traumas.

Speaking of traumas.

There is this beautiful, subtle self-soothing movement going on right here. It’s a clear comfort to him, and after the night he has had, and the trauma he has endured, it makes perfect sense for him to be clinging to her as such. Whether Aidan knew what he was doing with this, I can’t say, but what I can say was that it was a fantastic choice of action to follow through with.

KEY NOTES: Acting drunk is all about fluidity. You make yourself as liquid-y as possible. Become one with the water, though not in an elegant way. Rather, become the cup that’s just tipped over. Water is spilling over the side, getting everywhere, aimlessly spreading across the tabletop. It’s a mess, it has no direction nor stability, etc.

Aidan follows through with this beautifully. I could gush about this all day, just as I could with so much of his acting. Acting drunk is hard, even for some adults. Luckily, he has it on his side that Five is so completely opposite of what we see here, that him being so flimsy and giggly is strange as shit.

Additionally, if you’re ever needing to act drunk, do the opposite of your character, given the script allows it. If the character is normally very carefree and lighthearted, become the depressed, crying drunk, or the angry drunk. Or, like Aidan, if your character is normally rigid, become a giggling mess that can’t take shit seriously.

On to the next, where it’s more about the psychology of a character rather than the physical acting of the actor...

This scene. This was the moment that made me realize just how much I adored Five when he’s absolutely batshit. Unlike most of this list, where internal conflict and monologue drives for an impressive performance, in this case, it is the external conflict and monologue that makes this scene fantastic!

Here’s why:

It is an absolute rollercoaster of emotions for Five Hargreeves.

Seriously, this guy is leaping from emotion to emotion, bouncing between frustration to borderline panic to bitter glee to mania to relief. You can practically see the gears turning in Aidan’s head throughout the entire scene as he throws Five through the ringer.

So, from the top, we’re given this glorious moment, both a genius writing move and fantastically acted.

The vending machine.

I know a lot of people are like, “hell yeah” because Aidan gets to say “fuck”, or because he’s just off the shits. There are many reasons to love this scene. But I especially love this scene because it’s really introducing to the audience exactly what’s going to happen: intensity, violence, and Five snapping, losing his cool in a lapse of fear and frustration and desperation. And it’s beautifully encapsulated in this one fucking scene.

Aidan’s acting here might seem easy, and in a sense, it is. It’s easy to ram your shoulder against a vending machine and shake it and get mad. But what isn’t easy is knowing why you’re doing this, and feeling it. Just from observation and process of elimination, Aidan’s likely mostly a method-based actor. He bases his acting, and his characters, in his own reality. That means that, if Five is panicked, Aidan will force panic upon himself. He’ll induce an emotion physically to get a psychological and emotional reaction.

And here, it’s clear that whatever he was thinking out, however he had prepped for this scene, was working. Because you can freeze these frames and, sure, see funny faces. But you’ll also see flashes of fear, of desperation, of panic, of anger. Fear and panic because he may fail his siblings, he may not be able to save them. Desperation because he needs this to work, he is going to murder all these people and so he needs it to work. And anger because the Handler is making him do this again; he’s right under her thumb once more.

All of these emotions, every damn one, is played out in this one. fucking. scene. And that’s insane.

Those emotions come to a head here:

Aidan’s deep, stabilizing breath grounds Five. He has gotten his rage and desperation and fear out. Now, there’s only one thing for Five to do: murder the Board. And it’s an instant click here.

There’s the deep breath. The understanding. The resignation to what needs to be done.

Then a head turn.

Then boom. Look carefully. You can see the light drain from his eyes, see the hesitation bleed out right there. Right there. All within a breath, head turn, a beat, then a face forward.

That is some intense grasp on your physicality, your emotions, and your portrayal of those emotions. Aidan’s always been fantastic at emoting, but subtle scenes like this just prove his class in it. It’s incredible to see.

And then this scene:

This shit is actually an amazing move on Aidan’s part. It holds both literal and metaphorical weight: he sighs, from exhaustion, because Five is fucking tired after jumping that much, expending that much energy in a short amount of time, and narrowly letting his target escape. But it’s also showing a mental exhaustion, a wearing of the mind on the body. He sighs from relief, but it’s ironic, because the fight is far from over.

And you can see that.

Notice how Aidan may be sighing - sighing with his whole body - but the exhaustion is still in his eyes, his brow is still furrowed. There is no relief there, because there isn’t any relief for Five in this moment. His mission has been accomplished, but he has to deal with the Handler, with the aftermath, with the repercussions of his selfish actions to save his family.

And you can see it all in this movement.

KEY NOTES: When acting out internal conflict, be subtle. Obvious movements are made for obvious, external conflicts. A person who punches first in a bar fight as an obvious external conflict. But, like shown here, a person who is breaking from the inside out will have external action, but also internal emotion that comes out in the most subtle of ways, whether it be through expression, through contradicting action (the sigh, but no visible relief), etc.

More often than not, in the arts, less is more. However, you first need to understand the more to be able to do the less. So analyze the scene, analyze the character, understand it fully, and feel it truthfully.

Onto the next!

This scene is quick but beautiful.

I love the entire apocalypse scene, and I’m sure you do as well. But this one moment right here. This moment where he sees Klaus and backs away? Fucking beautiful.

Let’s just zoom in, shall we?

Yes, a lovely grainy gif. But God it shows everything you need it to. This scene is a fucking gutpunch, and here’s why:

You can see every flicker of emotion, every transition. It’s in the way his mouth eventually closes, the way he backs up, slowly. It’s so fucking evident that Five is heartbroken, and you can see the thoughts going through his head. The realization that this is Klaus, that his siblings are dead, that he is alone in this apocalypse and his family is dead. The tears in his eyes...

God, bro. It hits so good.

Not being able to use dialogue can sometimes be difficult, because the actor doesn’t have a key part of their craft with them: words. Being able to emote, to shift from emotion to emotion so seamlessly with just a meager movement of the jaw while backing away. It’s incredible.

That’s literally all this is about. I chose this as my number six because it is so powerful within only a hundred-or-so frames. Having an actor be able to emote to clearly with just facial expression...

Shit, bro. Shit. It’s fantastic.

Like I said, the rest of this scene is amazing, and him finding his other siblings is intense, but this look right here is just...unparalleled.

KEY NOTES: Feel that shit. If you can’t feel it, craft a narrative to make yourself feel it. Again, acting is always about believing and living truthfully in imaginary circumstances, and sometimes it’s difficult to express emotions and feelings as is, let alone without dialogue. To help that, think of something.

For example, in this scene, if I were Aidan, I would think about the fact that these people I love are dead, the world as I know it is destroyed. Sure, I may not know that literal feeling, but I do understand the feeling of hopelessness, of feeling so utterly alone. Make it so that you’re able to live truthfully, however you need to do that. People usually don’t have completely empty heads; they’re thinking of things, of many things, often. So think about those things in-scene and in-character, and feel it.

Additionally, this is going back to the less is more. Aidan barely moves, here. His expression is relatively static but that slow back away, that hardening of his jaw, those things are gentle shifts that drastically change the way Five is in the scene. He goes from shocked, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, to feeling cold realization as he closes his mouth and backs away, the understanding dawning upon him.

I could gush about this for decades...

Next!

This whole barn scene is just...gold as fuck. But this scene in particular, with the interwoven flashbacks of Five’s siblings, his father, his instances with time travel. The realizations that cross his face are beautiful, which in turn, makes this scene fantastic.

Get ready for some awkwardly close close-ups, because I’m about to explain some really cool shit as to how Aidan’s using facial expressions to navigate pain, realization, fear, surprise, etc.

So here’s why:

FEELING THE FEELINGS.

That’s how. A lot of what makes this scene powerful from an acting perspective is because Aidan completely suspends himself in disbelief. There are a lot of surprises that come to Five in this moment, and Aidan feels them all. And he feels them powerfully. He feels the shock around the pain of being shot, on top of it.

So to kick it off! Here:

Aidan’s living in this moment. He’s living in the anger of the Handler, thinking he’s going to die right here. His siblings have just been murdered again, by this bitch. And the audience is able to live in that with him. His eyes harden. His jaw sets. He’s breathing tight around the pain, infuriated, either shaking from the agony or the hatred or both.

Five is so caught up in that moment, and Aidan suspends himself in that moment so clearly, that the next moment is powerful as shit.

The Handler gets shot.

She gets turned to swiss-fucking-cheese right in front of him, and the way Aidan lets Five live in every second is beautiful. He goes from shocked, to confused, to going, “oh shit, that looks painful”. And it’s muted by his pain. Aidan doesn’t need to move much, he doesn’t need to make a grandiose gesture. It’s wide eyes, it’s knitted eyebrows, it’s swallowing around the blood and letting Five be in this moment.

And then Five realizes - Aidan lets Five realize - that the Swede has taken the Handler’s place. That he’s going to die all over again.

There is that anger again. That pure fucking spite. It’s the look of a man who would murder someone if he could sit up. His jaw sets from before, where it was slack with surprise and sympathetic pain. Look how sharp his eyes are. Boy is fucking pissed and it’s beautiful.

Let’s hop back! Back to movement!

Aidan’s squirming around here?

Realistic as shit. Five’s just been shot. That’s absolute agony. And there’s blood coming down the side of his mouth, which means his lungs have somehow been hurt. He can’t talk, breathing must suck, and so of course he’s writhing on the ground.

And this?

Is Five clenching his hands from pain? Is he trying to blink? What’s going on here? I don’t know, maybe Aidan does, but either way, both motivations are powerful. Five may be trying to blink away. He may be trying to tap into his powers instinctively. Or maybe he’s squirming in pain, clenching and unclenching his fists. And that shit punches. It’s so subtle, but so good, keeping the audience in the moment. No matter where you look on his body, whether his hands, his face, his chest - it all shows the agony he’s in, the desperation he’s swimming in.

Which then leads to the coolest fucking moment:

Look at how his eyes shift, only just so. His brows furrow only slightly. He’s realizing what’s going on, what he can do to save his family. Aidan played this perfectly. Again, less is more. These subtle movements make so much sense, because Five has been shot, he’s losing blood fast, and it’s dulling his movements and senses.

And when Five begins turning back the seconds?

The pain, the shock, the “holy shit this is working???” My god, you can see him choking on the blood and around the agony. You can see his hesitation, his being startled by his own powers, by what he is capable of. The rapid blinking, the jumping eyebrows, the gasping for air as the bullets likely begin ripping out of him.

KEY NOTES: Subtle subtle subtle. Live in that moment. Suspend your disbelief. Here, in this scene, there are several key shifts. These shifts are supposed to be a massive surprise to Five. And because Aidan is king at staying in the moment, and letting that moment live in him, he is able to display these shifts perfectly.

1st Shift - Realizing he is alive, and his siblings are dead.

2nd Shift - The Handler getting shot.

3rd Shift - Axel moving to kill him.

4th Shift - The realization of his father’s words.

5th Shift - Holy shit time travel is working.

All of them need to have a shift in-scene/with the tone. Aidan shifts this with pure expression. He doesn’t need to utter a single word because he is able to live in that moment and truly let himself be shocked, scared, desperate, angry, etc. So, in order to do this, live in the moment.

Some people say knowing exactly what will happen helps, because you’re able to time your expressions perfectly. Others say that knowing nothing helps, because you’re literally letting yourself be surprised. This truly depends on the actor, and their style. Aidan has expressed that he waits to read his lines until he’s there, on set, because then it’ll be more of a shock to him. That works really well for him (clearly) but it may not work for you, so test that out how you’d like.

Onto the next!

This.

Shit.

Is so good.

The moment when Five meets with Dolores again after god knows how much time while he was at the Commission-- It’s beautiful. And again, being the king of the subtle, Aidan can display the perfect mix of emotions that are occurring in this scene.

Here’s what’s up:

As many people may have noticed, a lot of these fantastic, key moments for me, in particular, are special due to subtlety. And subtlety is seen in the micro-expressions displayed through the face, mainly. Specifically, the eyes. Aidan’s ability to act solely through his eyes is something I’m going to focus on for this scene in particular.

These are his eyes the moment he sees Dolores again. And what’s really, really fucking cool is that Aidan is completely living in this scene. It shows in his eyes: real compassion, real love, real care. Sure, Aidan may not care about the mannequin in front of him, but he is thinking about something, whether that’s Five’s ties to Dolores, or someone in his life that he truly feels fond over.

You can see it.

His eyes soften significantly as the gif continues, and you can even see the corners of his eyes upturn after he says, “Dolores”. There is real love here. The actor is able to portray true love through just the eyes. And that’s insane. Many actors express love through physical action because they may not be actually feeling it. They’ll say, “I love you” but express flatly, with dull eyes and a forced smile.

But here. No, not that shit. This shit has Aidan feeling everything. And it makes a big difference, makes everything feel so much more genuine. Good acting is through the eyes, not the words. Dialogue enhances the story, but being genuine, and selling that story as “reality”, is done by the actor, through the eyes, the subtle expressions, the minimal gestures and movements.

Let’s look at some more eyes?

Now, I fucking hate looking at eyes. But with Aidan - like with many good actors - I find them fascinating to watch. Because if an actor is feeling it, is living in the moment, they will express fantastically through their eyes. Most human communication is body language/unspoken, and I’m willing to bet a good chunk of that is through the eyes alone.

You can see Five thinking in that second gif, his eyes flicking left, left further, deep in thought for just a second. That is the thing you should be envisioning when authors say, “they could practice see the wheels turning in their head”.

In that first gif, Aidan’s compassion and softness, his quiet eyes, are contrasted by the sharp roll following the “obviously”, which makes the love being expressed to Dolores only that much stronger. It enhances the moment. See, because being too subtle the entire time makes it so the audiences don’t pick up much at all, they don’t feel it. And being too obvious makes you an amateur, makes it comical, almost.

When you’re strong in your craft, you’re able to make every single move in the most calculated of manners, but you make it seem effortless, make it seem natural. That’s incredible shit.

I’m by no means saying Aidan is perfect. He definitely isn’t. But, scenes like this showcase his experience in the field.

KEY NOTES:

Piggybacking off the subtlety discussed earlier, practice living in the moment. There is no real way to practice “being subtle” because it manifests naturally when the actor is living in the moment. Hence why this scene is so high on my list.

So learn to equate the emotions of your characters to your life. Tie your character’s life into yourself, somehow, all while keeping a safe distance. It’s by no means easy, and it takes years to learn how to do that, how to express naturally and not force a single thing. Being vulnerable, and raw, and flawed like that is hard, since so many people are taught that flaws are shameful, that perfection is required for success. But acting, like much of the arts, require you to unravel that believe and be truly vulnerable, exposed to possibly millions of viewers.

So learn to live in the moment. That will shield you all whilst letting you live freely as the character and, therefore, express truthfully and subtly.

Next!

Remember my rant about subtlety?

Yeah, fuck that, because with this, we’re going to talk about going off the rails. But, going off the rails in a tasteful manner. The paradox psychosis scenes were a beautiful contrast to a normally stiff, calculated character. it was satisfying, and entertaining, and so fucking powerful when breaking down the psychology of Five.

So let’s hop into that:

Psychology is everything to a character, because it is everything to humanity, and people as a whole. Every decision made is dictated by psychology, by experiences and how those are compartmentalized and processed in the brain. An action isn’t done without it meaning something to the person.

And the same goes for every character made.

If you are a writer, you need to understand the actions and reactions of your characters based on their experiences and their psychology. If you just...write random shit because you want to, or because it seems funny or creepy, it may be good, but it won’t line up psychologically and it’ll show. It’ll be obvious to those of us that study this day-in-day-out.

The same goes for acting and actors.

An actor will be much more powerful in their role if they can understand their character’s psychology. The amount of empathy going into this is intense, especially for those playing “villains” or antagonists - those with flimsy morals - because you need to be able to break down, understand, and agree with the psychology of your character. It’ll make them so much more realistic and powerful.

That is why seeing Five - a normally calculated, sharp, careful character - off the shits is the best thing ever. And it’s in-character, too! He’s learned over the years that independence is the key to survival, that thought (as opposed to action, or outbursts) yields better results.

Yet here, in the scene, Five is relying upon Luther’s help. He’s trusting his brother. He’s acting irrationally. He’s skittish. And it’s such a beautiful contrast. Admittedly, this scene is more about the writing than Aidan’s acting, but it is still fantastically acted, and that only adds more to the realism, to the intensity, to the fact that it is so not Five to do this, and yet, it is very much so Five.

That! Is because of body language.

We know it is Five, that it is in-character, because it still follows Five’s normal body language, his gestures, his manic buzzing around despite his words sounding paranoid, despite his actions being rash. I’ve already spent a lot of time on this number already, so I’ll just demonstrate with a specific scene:

He’s pensive as hell right here. Shoulders tense, shifting back wards. He knows what’s going on, he’s as terrified as he allows himself to be (because he can’t stifle it, perhaps), and it’s so very Five while also being not Five at all.

Despite the music telling us it’s all gucci, it is not all gucci. Look at his eyes. They harden. They get dark. His demeanor completely shifts into caution. he swallows. Steels himself. This is the Five we know - a paranoid little shit - and yet, there is fear that is so uncharacteristic. All through Aidan’s beautiful acting. All through him understanding the psychology of Five perfectly. This is why it is required that you understand your character’s every move, every action, every line of dialogue, every thought.

So, this kind of shit throughout the entire paradox psychosis scene is just amazing. And it’s exactly for the reasons listed above. Aidan knows Five. Not only is he Five, but he knows Five. Inside and out. And god does it show.

KEY NOTES:

Know your character. Know them better than you know yourself. Deadass. Know them better thank you know yourself so that you can delve into the meat of their psychology and tweeze out exactly what you need to do in order to act them correctly.

Onto the next!

This gourmet shit.

Time to get uncomfortably close once again.

The jaw clench! The cheek tightening! The head tilt! The lips thinning! Look at that beautiful expression. See, acting, like writing, is all based on formula. Now, I’m going to out myself, but I’m autistic. Facial expressions, movements, twitches, etc. aren’t inherent to me, and understanding them and analysis them is a learned behavior.

Actors and writers, like me, need to understand the formula.

Clenched jaw + fidgeting + tightening lips = numerous things, ranging from frustration, to anger, to desperation, to pain.

But when you include the eyes.

The eyes tell it all.

Small, watering, tight at the corners, knitted brows. All of these, plus our formula above, create the perfect mix of frustration, desperation, pain, fear.

He is frustrated with the situation, with Vanya. He is desperate to get her to listen. He is in pain because he hates to do this to her, hates to have to fight her on this. And he is scared because what if he has to fight her?

Actors are usually conscious - at least at first - about these movements. They learn to have complete control of their bodies, their faces, down to the muscle. Or, they should. I can’t speak for Aidan, because I’m not him, clearly. But I can safely say that, if he doesn’t consciously have control of his body and understand exactly what’s going on, then he has some intense intuition about his emotions. He is able to perfectly display a mishmash of emotions, all perfect given the situation, the character, his experiences.

Aidan gives Five the multi-layering goodness that we analysis kids love because Five isn’t just upset. He isn’t just frustrated. He is frustrated on top of being scared, and agonized, and exhausted (you can see the weariness in his eyes; it’s all in the eyes).

KEY NOTES

I’m not sure if this would help, but try making a formula. If you are worried about your character not doing an emotion right, or wanting to do multiple emotions at once, craft a formula or a chart.

So, say you want depression and anger. A basic formula could look like this:

Depression = Hollow Eyes + Monotone Voice + Slumped Posture

Anger = Shaking + Sharp Eyes + Clenched Fists

Then, you can combine the two together. You can have hollowed eyes, and a monotone voice, but also sharpened corners to the eyes, and clenched fists. Here, Aidan is tapping into multiple things, things that have interwoven specifics to their formulas. That’s why it works so beautifully. His eyes scream agony, his jaw tightens with frustration, his eyebrow knit together with frustration--

Bless this kid and his acting.

Anyways, last but definitely not least, here is my final analysis:

Now, this scene may not seem like the most intense acting ever, but in reality - to me - this shit is insanely powerful. It’s not just the acting going into work here; it’s the blocking, the dialogue, the pacing, the atmosphere, the emotional environment, the music and sound engineering...

It’s a fucking cinematic masterpiece.

But, since I am here to talk about just acting, and just Aidan’s acting, let me tell you about how this scene is made so good. There are two reasons:

One, is that Aidan is a master at post traumatic stress disorder and PTSD psychological processes and how that comes out in action, reaction, dialogue delivery, etc.

And two, he acts like a grown-ass old man.

Let’s talk about the second one first, because why not:

(apologies ahead of time for fucked gifs, this scene is impossible)

This scene. It’s just a drink. Chill, whatever, right?

Wrong.

It’s the way he moves. The way he drinks. The way he holds himself when he is around Reginald, another man his age. Around another man his age that had abused him, had done him wrong, but in Five’s eyes, some whom he had done wrong, too.

Luther is the sibling that is always said to be in denial about their father’s wrongdoings, but a lot of people neglect the fact that Five is, too. He is just as much in denial as Luther, if not more so by the time season two wraps up.

And it shows.

It shows in the way he moves as if they were equals, when they are so clearly not. He tils his head, gives acknowledgement in the way old men do. The generational gap is closed by Aidan’s movements, not by his words. It’s incredibly satisfying to see Five’s psychology bleeding through as he instinctively shifts from “I’m dealing with a bunch of kids” to “I’m alongside a man my age, my father”.

And speaking of psychology, let’s please talk about PTSD.

Specifically, subtle show not tell of PTSD, all through the eyes.

Right. Here.

Look, I’m not going to lie, if I analyze this scene, it’ll be the same things you’ve heard before. Everything I gushed about earlier is going to be repeated here for the ultimate finale on this long-ass fucking post.

But, humor me.

Five’s got trauma. Bitch has trauma for days. Though, he doesn’t wear it. He hides it, he buries it, because it is useless to him. Yet, it will always be there. His trauma of abandonment, and survival in the apocalypse, on top of the abuse from his father, the stress of his childhood, and topped off with the murder he had to shoulder for the sake of the Commission. Rarely does this show. Rarely is it seen.

Save for scene likes this. Right. Fucking. Here.

Aidan knows Five. And he knows the traumas Five’s endured.

Five can’t look at his father as he admits his failures, the snide, “I told you so” ringing through his head. He has to acknowledge that his father was right, that he was right all along. This is a burden Five has carried for decades, as seen with his discussion with Diego in 2x02. It’s not something small for him. So, to admit that...

The stare says it all.

His eyes are glazed over, lost in the past. He isn’t looking at Reggie, is looking past him. This is the thousand-yard stare you always read about. These are the eyes of agony, and regret, and a flashback. His eyes flick, flick to the side, towards the camera, as Five remembers something. Aidan knows how to play this. He knows how to play this trauma of remembering, of remembering what he had done to his siblings and how he has failed. And, finally, he is able to look and Reginald but he is choking back something. He swallows thickly, as if it’s almost sickening to do so.

Aidan’s understanding of Five, and his trauma and psychology, and expressing it all through his body language, and expression, and eyes. God, it’s fucking mesmerizing.

SO TO WRAP IT UP

Everything here is purely my opinion, but if I were to leave you with anything, acting (and writing) comes down to three basic things:

--Understanding the psychology of your character, through-and-through.

--Understanding your body, your expressions, your eyes, and how you react and can react to specific emotions.

--Living in the moment, and being present in the character’s life, being truthful to them over yourself.

These are the things that Aidan excels at. God, he is amazing at it. And I appreciate the hell out of it any time I see him. He is so truthful to Five, so honest to the character, that it’s beautiful to watch. Five is so flawed, so hurt, and so complex, and Aidan isn’t afraid to show us this vulnerability. I suppose that should be one last thing that all writers and actors and anyone in the arts should strive for:

--Vulnerability, pain, fear, and raw, oftentimes shielded emotions are not something to hide but, rather, are your greatest strength.

#aidan gallagher #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #number five #five hargreeves #five #acting analysis

1K notes · View notes

iphoenixrising · 3 years

Text

DickTim Week 2021: Day 5 Winged!Talon Tim au

So. another dual prompt and I really regret nothing about this one tbh. I took tomorrow’s Talon and today’s Wings and made a Winged!Talon!Tim fic. Of course, I talked to the wonderful babes on Capes & Coffee about a what if combination and this just, whew. Careful, it might break your heart a little, but damn if it isn’t an interesting idea.

Not beta read, so don't be a hater :D

Previous Talon!Tim universe posts: The initial idea, Babe and I talking it out, Talon Training Ask, Ra’s vs the Court, Talon and Ra’s, Talon and Ra’s take 2, Talon and Shiva short.

Watching B take on the new and improved Talon is really the entertainment of the year.

Once upon a time it had taken all of them plus more to take down as much of the Court of Owls as humanly possible. Of course, like rats, the Bats knew there would be no way to get the entire Court or all the Talons, not when the upper echelons of Gotham had spent the better part of 200 years creating, storing, training, and obtaining more.

Politicians were investigated, corrupt cops removed, and criminals burrowed underground once word of what the capes did to save the day got passed around.

For the first time in years, crime in Gotham was at an all time low.

But, as the coin flip dictates, nothing good lasts forever. Trouble is always brewing below the surface to eventually rise to the top and try to take over.

Case in point:

The Bats of Gotham have come up against a new threat wearing the signature Talon armor, and the call goes out to all available capes for help taking on the undead mercenary before another crime family ends up in the Obituaries rather than Blackgate.

The fact the Court is still up and running after the Batfamily took them down in a fiery blaze that ended with all their Talons gone, Sensei exposed, and most the ruling families imprisoned or poisoned by Lincoln March, is like a kick to the abdomen after they closed that particular book. Worse, with a new Talon soldier is sighted running around Gotham, another circus kid has been kidnapped and turned into the right hand of the Court of Owls. Dick, with his absolute survivors guilt, is the one to make going after the Talon and whoever is still behind the scenes a top priority.

Which is how they find themselves in the middle of Knight’s Stadium facing down a Talon that is too short to be March. Red Hood, Nightwing, Robin, Batgirl, and Black Bat pretty much got their asses handed to them in the first twelve minutes. Pretty hard to understand until you take into account the new and improved Talon facing them now is terrifying in a completely different way than most undead assassins are.

He knows them.

He knows them in ways that lets him fight fast and furious with vicious accuracy, striking at weaknesses few of the vigilantes of Gotham realized they even had.

He isn't as big as Lincoln or even Cobb, not nearly as old. He hasn't been kept in cryostasis waiting for the next generation to need his skills. He doesn't have creaks in his joints from being put on deep freeze too many times.

This one is silent and efficient, obviously trained in multiple types of martial arts, is highly proficient with or without the standard Talon knives, is a master tactician, counters the majority of their moves with alarming consistency–

and the fucking Talon has wings.

Honest-to-God wings.

Everyone had assumed the metal monstrosities on his back were weapons of some kind, but the glint of steel in the streetlight flash a warning before the lumps moved in an arch, extending far out past his shoulder blades, slicing into Red Hood’s body suit with a razor-sharp edge, shredding the armor like paper.

It’s not enough he’s got weapons obviously made specifically for his skill set, it’s not enough he’s an assassin and doesn’t hold to the same standards of non-lethal combat, it’s not enough that he can use his wings to fly or to fight like he’s using another limb to kick the shit out of them, and it’s not enough that he effortlessly counters so many of their attacks that he has to have some kind of inside information on all of them and their fighting styles.

The knives are definitely a thing when the Talon can throw them hard enough to penetrate parts of their suits in between armored plating, which further drives the theory that this is a person they’ve dealt with before. Intimately. Few people in the world know how their suits are made. Even more, few people know particulars enough when their suits are constantly reconstructed.

The only thing on their side that tipped the scales in their favor–

–the Batman.

The wings threw him off his game, obviously, but not enough to stop B from holding his own with swift and merciless force.

It's like watching a dance of fast and furious fists, blades in Talon's hands glinting deadly in the night, finding B's suit over and over and over until he's made it to blood and bone. He takes every hit the Batman can dish out, head snapping back, left, and right with the volley of jaw-breaking blows and bone-shattering kicks.

None of it gives the Talon pause. When a move makes him drop a blade, another is already in hand, cutting into their body suits, wings flipping out to defend or distract, sweeping moves and well coordinated attacks.

The unnatural appendages are like another arm, another leg, an extension working on the same central nervous system, regardless as to how the Court managed to make it happen.

A jump kick off a trash can is a lucky shot as a wing catches B in the ribs hard enough to knock him into the wall of Mike's Famous Hotdogs. The only thing saving the Dark Knight from a concussion or permanent brain damage is the plating in his cowl.

It gives the Talon enough time to make a final bid for a battered Nightwing, Red Hood, and Robin struggling to their feet again, eyes for their fallen mentor.

Before he can lunge forward to start the attack yet again, the Talon just stops, pauses like he’s stuck or something, and in the span of a breath, both wings extend fully, flap powerfully once to propel him up into the Gotham night.

O tries her best to track his flight through the city, but no one’s arms are working well enough to toss a tracker on him.

She loses him over Cape Carmine, slams her palms against her system in frustration, makes sure she gets as much footage from the confrontation as possible.

After some sleep and a whole lot of bandages and ice packs, the Bat family meets in the Cave to watch the footage, breakdown the Talon’s fighting style, his weaponry, and make theories on his identity.

O helps out with readings she has of electronic pulses she managed to capture coming from the armor over his wings. She thinks she might be able to use it to track him if they can get close enough for her equipment to ping the signal again.

B makes a trip to Arkham since Freeze apparently hasn’t stopped producing the formula used to put Talons in cryostasis.

It’s not until Gotham’s power grid has a massive surge that O and the Bats can pinpoint a possible location, all of them invested in one hell of a fight to get the last rats still scurrying in the underground.

The plan of attack comes together smoothly once they’ve scoped out the location, seen the shady activity, and together, they make one hell of a plan.

And because, you know, Gotham, it is completely normal for the Court of Owl's headquarters to have a skylight.

Natch.

For this one, they've got Batgirl and Black Bat, Red Hood and Robin, Nightwing and B, a real family affair.

O's quiet voice over comms leading them through the maze of traps and empty rooms, abandoned libraries and spooky ball rooms. The laboratory isn't the most horrific they've all ever seen (because the Joker's summer place is literally the stuff of nightmares), but a few of them do gag on the smell alone.

The plan, however, goes horribly awry when the clear sounds of tormented screaming echoes from right under their reinforced bootheels.

Black Bat's fists clench hard, her breathing wheezes out when the tone, the utter agony goes right through her.

A shudder slides up Robin's spine as all of them turn toward the noise.

Without a flicker or a word, the Batman moves, strafing in the shadows toward the sound. He can't assume it's an innocent civilian with something the Court wants, but he's betting on the fact that scream will lead them to whoever is running the show.

The medieval room has bars and reinforced locks, implements hanging on the wall. The cement brick is stained rust colored with old blood, the vestiges of training, and the awful realization they've found another hidden niche in the city that always existed right under their noses is punctuated with the abrupt drop in temperature, with the sudden charge in the air, with the zzzzcrack snapping beyond the door, replaced with a muted buzzing Robin can feel in his back teeth.

B is already on his way to the roof, Batgirl down through the floor vent while Nightwing picks the locks with fast precision, knocking the tumblers around.

Robin and Red Hood stay close to the reinforced door, balancing on the balls of their feet, katana and .45s at the ready.

Black Bat takes the high road, ceiling tiles giving way under her Bat-a-rang. She gives a sharp nod before she's up and gone.

"All right. Ready?" Nightwing stands, cracks his neck, flips his escrimas in both hands, works his shoulders to prepare for the strain of each blow he plans to give.

"Ya betcha ass," Hood murmurs low, a cut figure with both guns at his sides, gloved fingers on the trigger guard.

"Don't disappoint," Robin snarls, "either of you."

"Nice pep talk, squirt," Nightwing snickers.

"Tt, back up your mouth with action."

"Better shuddap, Demon. Golden Boy ain't fuckin' 'round. Neither is the Bat. We get one more chance a' this asshole. We ain't gonna blow it again, ya feel me?"

"Finally, something we agree on, Hood."

"Other than N's shitty mullet?"

Nightwing swiftly glares at them both over his shoulder, unconsciously putting himself front and center of the trio, ready to be the first in once they get the signal.

– which is the sound of the glass raining down from the heavens.

Three booted feet kick the door hard enough to take it off the hinges, lying against the faded stains like a fallen body.

First step in the room is the complete opposite to what they'd all been expecting.

The two Owl masks aren't the usual, but a perversion of the originals, crudely drawn yawning mouths complete with fangs dripping blood.

But.

The boy on his knees, arms in a binder holding the appendages hostage at a painful angle, is dripping the real thing. Rivulets down his chest and where his back is partially visible. Some from the base of the wings going into the back of his shoulder blades where the skin is torn and raw.

The bar gag shoved in his mouth doesn't take away from the splatters on his chin, the bruising on his face, the swollen eye. But it's his wings that makes the Bats falter from the initial rushing attack.

His wings are without the armor, are bound straight up above his restrained body with hooks grotesquely puncturing through the downy softness, desecrating the beauty with blood and gore. The angle makes the pull to his back where the wings are part of him just another agony on top of atrocity.

"Fuck," from the first Owl mask, and a swift move frees the Talon's bound arms, the appendages flopping uselessly to the floor, only his trapped, tortured wings keeping him up on his knees.

The second Owl shoves the first back, "let him take care of them. Let's get out of here!"

The first Owl snarls out something low and foreign, the phrases rolling off his tongue.

The words lock into place, and the Talon's head snaps up, snarling around the gag in his mouth.

When his face is finally, finally visible, the protectors of Gotham are frozen in their tracks.

Familiar violet-blue eyes, too-long blue-black hair, cut jawline and pointed nose. Tiny scar on his right cheek from the time he caught Ra's al Ghul's ring across the face.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," is barely heard through the Red Hood's synths and in no way fully expresses his utter horror at what these dirty motherfuckers have done.

Robin wretches, bile burning the back of his throat once those eyes swing up to the masked parody of the Owls and his bare upper body is visible through the blood and sweat on his chest, when the scars peeking through on his collar bones form a half-visible Y-incision, when the coloring of the bared wings now makes sense (robin's wings, Damian Wayne thinks with his heart beating pitter patter fast, and his stomach in knots, they put robin's wings on him...).

And the hurt, agonized noise coming out of Nightwing's chest is the only noise he can make when those dimmed, dazed eyes swing from the Owls back to the vigilantes frozen in their spots, when there's no spark of joy or fondness or stubbornness he's so used to seeing staring him down.

The errant thought, the first instinct, is the only humane way to deal with this new Talon is to put him down for good wars with the man behind the mask that only wants to reach out, wants to pull the Talon into his body and curve over, to scream at the injustice of it all, to rail at himself for not even suspecting.

Another switch flipped and the hooks release his wings, blood splattering on top the old stains.

"Get them! Don't fuck it up this time or you won't get another chance," the second Owl shoves the Talon's injured shoulder in the direction of the horrified vigilantes.

They don't even bother to take the gag out of his mouth before setting him on his target.

A flap of wings, and the Talon is on his feet again, swaying only slightly. He's in the boots and pants from earlier, the rest of his uniform tossed carelessly behind him by his tormentors. A sweep of his feet and the knives glint in bare palms, a whisper of a sound.

The curved, clawed blade glints in the overhead light when the Talon raises it and cuts the strap of the bar gag in his bloody mouth, turns his head to spit it out without looking away from the vigilantes.

The Batman, grim and stoic in the face of this surprising turn of events, gives the barest nod. From her hiding spot behind the complex machinery, Black Bat takes off after the running Owl members, leaving the rest of the family to deal with their former third Robin.

The wings flinchingly flare out and their former bird hunches over, ready for the attack.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” the Red Hood removes the helmet, leaves the domino underneath. He keeps one hand out in peace, slowly dipping down to put his helmet on the ground. “Is us, Tim. Timmy. Baby Bird. Is us. Yer family. Gotta lookit us, yeah?”

For the first time, the Talon speaks, “who’s Tim?”

And then he lunges.

The fight happens very differently this time.

The former power behind the punches is obviously dulled with the Talon’s identity reveal. He doesn’t hold back, is utterly ruthless with his attacks. He takes out B’s right knee, puts Hood down on the stained floor, knocks Robin into the wall with crushing force, and slams Batgirl’s head off the operating table.

He stands over Nightwing, wicked blade in hand and robin’s wings spread wide. He takes a knee, the sharp edge right above N’s adam’s apple, staring down impassively into the whiteouts.

“Timmy,” N spits blood, grunting when one knee pins his arm down. “Timmy, please. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I love you and I’m sorry they did this to you.”

Those eyes don’t change in the slightest. “You should not have tried to oppose the Owls.”

“We beat them once,” Nightwing gasps, “and you helped us, Baby Bird. You were with us then, don’t you remember.”

“I was nothing before the Court perfected me,” the Talon replies emotionlessly.

“You were perfect before they ever touched you.”

“No,” and the Talon leans down, puts them a breath away. “The only thing you and those others do is put the criminals back in prison, back in Arkham for them to escape again, for them to kill and destroy over and over again. Like this, I can stop them permanently.”

“Oh Timmy,” and behind the whiteouts, Nightwing’s eyes spill over, his vision wavery. “Timmy–”

“Don’t call me that. Stop calling me that.”

“You know me, you know us. You have to remember–”

“Lies. All of it lies!”

Nightwing’s chest stutters, his fist clenching, “it’s not. None of it is. Not even this–”

And he’s fast enough to grab the back of the Talon’s neck, to lean up enough against the blade pressed against his throat, can bring their mouths together, can kiss him like he’s dying and the Talon is the only thing that can save him.

It’s sloppy and awkward because the Talon doesn’t know what’s happening, gasps against the vigilante’s mouth. The tongue sliding over his, the muffled moan in his mouth sparks something in the back of his brain where the Court of Owls could never touch.

When Nightwing pulls back, stares up at wide violet-blue eyes, when the blade falls away to clatter against the block, when the Talon’s mouth trembles and tears fill his eyes, when his wings flutter and falter, fold in on them both, when his voice goes hoarse with, “D-Dick?” Nightwing throws both arms around his waist and holds on.

123 notes · View notes

buck-buck-boose · 3 years

Text

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count: 4.3k

Author's Note: I am... so sorry for taking so long. I was not expecting the start of the semester to be so hectic. I can't promise I'll go back to posting as regularly as during the summer, but I can promise that I'm not disappearing. I promise. I WILL SEE THIS FANFIC THROUGH EVEN IF IT KILLS ME. Thank you for the kind words and support while I've been MIA. Enjoy a chunky chapter.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Little Saint Lottie

October 27, 1943

“I’m worried about her, Betty.”

“I know, Gladys. I know.”

Lottie couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a full night’s rest. Days seemed to bleed into each other, with no slumber to distinguish today from tomorrow. It wasn’t long after arriving at Azzano that she realized that he wasn’t waiting for her. Bucky was gone. In his place, dozens of men awaited her arrival with sunken eyes and twitching lips that begged for relief, whether it be through a healing touch or a final blow to the head.

When the realization hit Lottie, there wasn’t much she could do besides throwing herself into her work; if she couldn’t help Bucky, the least she could do was help his brothers in arms. Although anxiety ate her up from the inside out, Lottie had confidence in Bucky’s abilities. He wouldn’t let himself die in some POW camp, he just wouldn’t. Because then who would take care of her and Steve? He’d fight tooth and nail to get back to them, she just knew it.

She threw herself into her work, rarely stopping long enough to have a proper conversation or a full meal; this bad habit of hers came to a halt, though, when she came upon a boisterous redhead in need of stitches. Lottie had been deep in thought while examining the gash above his forehead when the soldier cracked a grin and peered up at her without moving his head too much.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

Lottie shook her head, “I’m afraid not, Private—” she glanced at his dog tags, “—O’Connor.”

“Ever done pinup? Maybe I know you from one of those cheesecakes we’ve got hanging up.” The man— more of a boy really, with his lanky frame and jovial smile —wiggled his eyebrows and ruined her diligent work of cleaning the blood from his wound.

The question left Lottie flustered; the idea of dozens of men gawking at her scantily clad figure left her feeling mortified, “Certainly not! I find that my talents are better suited for healing.”

O’Connor nodded and inspected her face carefully as she went to work on his gash once more. “I’ve got it!” Lottie nearly jumped away from him when he clapped his hands together, “You’re Little Saint Lottie, in the flesh!” The boy crowed his revelation, earning him glares from the other men recovering in the medic tent.

Lottie nearly dropped the needle that she’d been preparing to thread, “Excuse me?”

“Ah, it’s a funny story,” O’Connor chuckled, “Y’see, Sarge had this little photo he’d take everywhere. Always had it in his pocket, tucked in his helmet, you name it. Wouldn’t let the damn thing go. Anyway, we stole it out of his fatigues one day while he was cleaning up in some river ‘cause we wanted to see what the big deal was. Once we saw it was some dame—” Lottie shot him a look, “—lady, we started yanking his chain about it. He was just about as obsessed with that photo as my Ma is with her holy cards, so when he finally told us your name, we dubbed you ‘Little Saint Lottie,’ patron saint of the one hundred and seventh. That kinda pissed him off, but it’s not like you’re his girl, y’know? Though he sure acted like you were.”

Lottie was speechless. About halfway through his story, her mouth had dropped open and her hands had fallen to her lap. Here she was, looking dumb as an ox, while the soldier in front of her chuckled with childish glee.

“Me and the guys would even ask for your intercession whenever the chaplain came by to pray with us. Poor guy had no clue which saint we were talkin’ about. We tried to give it a place of honor in the tent but Sarge made us run laps when he found out we’d nicked it again.”

O’Connor nearly doubled over in laughter as he watched Lottie’s expression grow in horror. “Well as I’m sure Bucky— Sergeant Barnes has told you, I’m no saint. I’m just a nurse. Now hold still, unless you want these stitches to be more painful than they already are.” Before she could stop herself, the question came tumbling out of her mouth, “Speaking of Sergeant Barnes, do you know—” she fumbled with the needle as she made the first stitch, “—is he alright? Did you see him?” The soldier let out a hiss of pain, “Yeah, I got a glimpse of him while they were takin’ him away. He was battered but alright. There’s no man quite like Sarge, I know he’ll be back. He’d fight tooth and nail to get back. That’s what he said at least, ‘cause he always went on and on about how you needed him and all that. He sure talked about you an awful lot for a guy who hasn’t even asked you to go steady.”

Lottie’s breath hitched at the final comment, the mere idea of going steady with Bucky reducing her to a stuttering schoolgirl. She began to tie off his stitches, “We’ve been best friends for over a decade, it’s perfectly normal to care for each other deeply without bringing affection into it.”

O’Connor shrugged, which jostled her arm slightly, “I’ve never heard a guy talk about his best friend like that.”

Lottie didn’t respond. She gave his fully sutured wound one last glance, “Looks like you’re all set. Now don’t do anything stupid to get it infected.”

He gave her a crooked grin and wiggled his eyebrows, Lottie nearly scolded him but held her tongue, “As you wish, Saint Lottie.”

Lottie rolled her eyes and moved along to the next bed, where another soldier waited with a smile just as wide. It seemed that these men had become pleased as punch to know their patroness had come to grace them with her presence.

The USO’s visit to their camp took Lottie completely by surprise. She’d spent so much time floating from one medic tent to the next that she’d ended up completely out of the loop of the camp’s other goings-on. It wasn’t until she saw the fully-erected stage in the middle of camp that she realized. Her heart beat powerfully within her; with Steve here, she would be one step closer to finding Bucky. One step closer to bringing him home. “They say he’s gonna be here in a few hours,” Mary beamed, obviously giddy to see the Star-Spangled Man up close and in the flesh.

Lottie returned her smile, though it was weak. The weariness was starting to catch up to her, making her feel much older than a youthful twenty-three. Her stomach was in knots with anxiety; she needed to get to Steve as soon as possible.

Betty stood with them as they watched the hustle and bustle of preparations, “I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones looking forward to seeing Captain America. All these boys care about is seeing a bunch of girls dancing for them on stage, not some hunk of meat in a red, white, and blue suit.”

Nancy, who had just joined the conversation, scoffed, “It’s quite disappointing how little you think of these men and their patriotism.”

Gladys rolled her eyes, “They’re still men, Nancy. Scantily clad women or a guy singing about war bonds? They’re gonna prefer the women.”

Several hours later, Gladys was indeed proven right. Although he’d been driven off-stage with jeers and taunts, Lottie was waiting for him with a warm embrace.

“Hey, Lottie,” She could hear the smile in his voice, she felt its warm timbre as it surrounded her and reminded her of home.

“Good to see ya, Stevie.”

Steve pulled away from her and gazed around the camp, a grimace growing on his features, “Things don’t look to good around here.”

Lottie nodded, a twin grimace gracing her lips, “The hundred and seventh started out with two hundred men. Now they’ve only got fifty left. They’re barely holding on.”

Steve’s gaze shot to hers the moment she mentioned the one hundred and seventh, “Lottie that’s— this is Bucky’s—” The desperate look in his eyes made her own calm exterior begin to crack.

“Stevie, I know,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat and tears pricking at her eyes, “I know, and I’m sorry. He’s not here. They— Those bastards took him, damn them!” For the first time since arriving at camp, Lottie cried. She sobbed and clung to Steve once more, feeling every bit like a scared little girl from days gone by.

Steve rested his hand against her back, “I’ll get him out, Lottie. He’s gotta be alive and I’ll get him out.”

She shook her head and wiped the hot tears from her cheeks, “No, Steve. You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.”

“Lottie, you know I can’t put you in harm’s way like that—”

“Steve. I’m serious. What do you think I was doing that whole time I was with the SSR? Yes, we were making the serum, but they nearly trained us to death. I can shoot, I can use my knife. I can’t let you go without me.” Her voice was starting to crack, “We have to find Bucky together.”

There was silence between the two of them until Steve finally conceded, a wary gaze in his eyes, “Fine. But you need to be by my side the whole time.” Lottie nodded her chest warming with hope. “C’mon, we need to have a conversation with Colonel Philipps.”

The two of them jogged to his tent with their coats held above their heads to shield them from a sudden shower of rain. They entered the colonel’s tent, looking comical with their wet hair and heaving chests. Around them, soldiers and officials paced to and fro, examining maps or signing off various forms. If Lottie squinted, she could just barely make out the words. Letters of condolences; heartbreakingly clinical letters of regret for the losses of these sons, these brothers, these boys.

“Colonel Phillips,” Steve began, “Are you planning a rescue mission? For the surviving prisoners from the Battle of Azzano?”

The colonel looked back at him with a straight face, “Yeah, it’s called winning the war.”

Steve’s blond eyebrows furrowed, “But if you know where they are why not at least—”

“They’re thirty miles behind the lines. Through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save, but I don’t expect you to understand that because you’re a chorus girl,” before Lottie could protest, he shot her a glance as well, “and you’re just a nurse.”

Steve’s gaze on Colonel Phillips was cool, “I think I understand just fine.”

The colonel pushed past them, “Well then understand it somewhere else. Now if I read the posters correctly, you’ve got someplace to be in thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

Steve grabbed Lottie’s hand and pulled her behind him, “C’mon, we’ve gotta get going. You go get changed.”

Lottie nodded; her medical uniform would impede this mission so she’d need to wear the fatigues that the government had finally issued to them. Her heart raced a mile a minute as she scrambled back to the nurse’s tent to change. She knew that Colonel Philipps would be terribly angry once he found out she’d shirked her night duties, but her loyalties to Bucky took precedence. The recovering soldiers were left in the capable hands of her peers. She swore as she nearly toppled over while yanking her boots on; it was rather hard to get dressed in such a hurry. By the time she was ready and had exited the tent, she was met with the somber faces of Agent Carter and Steve.

“Agent Carter, what are you doing?” For a moment, she feared that they’d already been caught, that the SSR was already putting an end to their mission.

The other woman pursed her lips, “I’m here to help.”

A mere half-hour later and they found themselves in the SSR’s plane, headed to Krausberg, where the POW camp was located. Howard Stark called out to them from the cockpit, “We should be able to drop you right at their doorstep.”

Fear was starting to creep into Lottie’s mind and burrowed itself deep within her gut. She heard the conversation continue all around her, but she was still processing the daunting mission before her. She and Steve up against Hydra. All alone. Even Bucky had struggled against them; he’d lost to them in the Battle of Azzano. Bucky. That’s what worried her most. It’s what filled her with the most fear. If she and Steve got through the Hydra camp safe and sound only to find that he was dead, Lottie wasn’t sure how she’d deal with it. She’d probably go mad, in all honesty. She’d end up in some institution, crying over lucky pennies and charcoal drawings while being molly-coddled by some woman in white. How tragic that would be.

Before her thoughts could become any darker, Lottie was jolted back to reality by the sound of bullets against metal. Steve grabbed his shield and her arm, urging her to join him by the plane’s exit.

Agent Carter shot up from her seat, “Get back here! We’re taking you all the way in!”

He turned to respond, “As soon as I’m clear, you turn this thing around and get the hell out of here!” “You can’t give me orders!”

A smile grew on his face, “The hell I can’t! I’m a captain!”

Steve shifted his goggles and nudged Lottie, “It’s go time. When you see me pull the chute out, you do the same.”

Lottie nodded with a quiet determination, and together, they jumped.

Entering the base was painstakingly quiet; once they’d snuck into a truck and eliminated the guards inside, Steve and Lottie were left to mouth words and offer silent support through unwavering gazes. Once they’d safely passed the gate of the base, they exited the truck and swiftly dealt with any opposition.

Steve led her across the base with caution, giving hand signals when it was safe to turn a corner and sprint across a patch of unobstructed space. The two of them traveled with the shadows, avoiding any spotlights that could catch them in the act. Lottie scarcely felt that she could breathe, it was as if one exhale would reveal their presence to the multitude of guards.

Once they entered the main building, the two of them found themselves in what seemed to be a factory. There were giant sheets of metal everywhere and huge bombs seemed to surround them. Amongst them all, Hydra soldiers transported other metal parts and containers of glowing blue material. That did not bode well with Lottie at all.

Lottie spotted some guards walking to a lower level, jangling keys in hand. “Steve, they might be guarding the prisoners.” Her whisper was barely audible, fear keeping her from speaking any louder.

“The blueprints said they were below the manufacturing level. C’mon.”

They followed the guards onto a walkway that had large circular grates that cut into the metal, each forming the ceiling of small cells that the poor prisoners had been separated into. Lottie and Steve knocked the guards out and stole their keys. The two dropped to the same level as the cells and began unlocking their doors.

One of the soldiers gazed at them through the bars of his cell, “Who are you supposed to be?”

Steve panted from stress, “I’m Captain America.” He gave Lottie an expectant look.

“I guess I’m Little Saint Lottie,” she responded somewhat sarcastically, referencing the retrospectively comical nickname that was developed by the one hundred and seventh.

Some of the men cracked grins, “So you’ve heard our prayers, huh?”

“Loud and clear. Now let’s get you out of here, yeah?”

She tried to ignore the growing horror inside of her upon the realization that none of these men had brilliant blue eyes. Not a dimpled chin in sight.

“Is there anybody else? I’m looking for a Sergeant James Barnes.” It seemed that the same horror was growing within Steve.

A man in a scarlet beret responded, his British accent prim and proper, “There’s an isolation ward in the factory, but no one’s ever come back from it.”

“Alright,” Steve nodded, “The tree line is northwest, 80 yards past the gate. Get out fast and give ‘em hell. We’ll meet you guys out in the clearing with anyone else we find.”

“Wait, you know what you’re doing?” “Yeah. I’ve knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times.”

Lottie couldn’t help but stare at Steve in amazement. Gone was that awkward boy from Brooklyn. He was a man now, a leader who could do anything he put his mind to. He’d grown so much, not just physically, but in his character.

While the prisoners worked their way out of the base, Steve and Lottie began their search for the isolation wards. Lottie tried to ignore the sounds of explosions and men crying out from below them while they traveled across metal catwalks. She could only hope that the cries of pain were coming from Hydra soldiers.

After turning several corners, they found themselves in an old hallway, surrounded by brick on both sides. They hurried down the corridor out of desperation; they knew they were running out of time. Lottie stopped suddenly when she heard a groan. It was close. She drew her weapon and dragged Steve into the room, her heart stuttering and her palms slick with sweat.

“Sergeant. Three-two-five-five-seven…” That voice. Oh, how she knew that voice; she loved it so. Lottie heard it whenever she found the time to fall asleep. It crept into her sweetest dreams but tore her apart whenever it wiggled its way into her nightmares.

Bucky lay in front of them, strapped down to a table; his lips moved ever so slightly as he repeated the same phrase over and over again.

She rushed to his side alongside Steve and nearly let out a cry of happiness. Had the situation not been so dire, she would’ve descended upon him with a bone-crushing embrace and great big sobs of joy by that point.

Lottie whispered a quiet, “Bucky?” His eyes were glazed over and his mouth agape, “Is that— is that—”

“It’s us, Buck,” Steve nodded reassuringly as he tore at the straps across Bucky’s chest. Bucky looked up at him, taking his face in,

“Us?”

“Me and Lottie,” he nodded, tugging her closer so that the two of them could be in Bucky’s field of vision.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, finally feeling whole again. She’d gotten her Brooklyn boys back. Bucky only looked back in confusion, “Little Lottie, she— she’s always been here. Always. Stayed with me the whole time.”

It was Lottie and Steve’s turn for confusion. Lottie brushed the hair back from his forehead to calm him down and ground him, “Bucky, I’ve been with the SSR this whole time. We’re here to rescue you.”

Steve nodded and dragged him off the table, “I thought you were dead.”

Bucky was obviously having a hard time processing everything that was happening, “I thought you were smaller.”

Lottie listened as the gunfire intensified, “Come on, we need to move.” Steve threw one of Bucky’s arms over his shoulder and the two fell into step behind her.

“What happened to you?” Bucky grunted out, pain etched into his voice.

“I joined the army.”

“Did it hurt?”

Steve was growing agitated, “A little.”

“Is it permanent?”

“So far.” Lottie huffed, “I’d sure hope so after all that effort I put into it.”

Bucky mustered out a befuddled, “Huh?”

“I helped to create the serum that made him like that.”

“So that’s why you left without saying a word.” Bucky’s tone was only slightly accusatory.

Lottie muttered a weak “Yeah.” They’d need to have a lengthier conversation once he wasn’t struggling to walk five yards.

As they crossed the catwalks to get towards the exit, the factory below them began to combust. Huge flames erupted from the metal contraptions and triggered explosions all around them. They hastily climbed the metal stairs to get to higher ground.

“Captain America, how exciting!” A thick German accent cut through the noise of explosions and gunfire. “I am a great fan of your films!” Before them stood two men; one was a short little fellow clad in a jacket and fedora. The other was tall and wore a distinguished Hydra uniform with its menacing crest emblazoned on his shoulder.

The taller of the two gave Captain America a once over as he strode across the catwalk that separated them, “So, Dr. Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement, but still, impressive.”

“You’ve got no idea,” Steve snarled and punched the man in the face. The swift blow caused a blotch of redness to appear near his eye and a sinking feeling of realization settled into Lottie’s stomach. This was Schmidt, the monster who used the serum prototype.

Before she could say anything, Schmidt struck back and left a dent in Steve’s shield, “Haven’t I?”

There was a brief scuffle before Schmidt backed off while the other man pulled a lever, pulling the catwalk apart. With a grin, Schmidt began pulling at the skin of his face and revealed fiery red muscle and tissue beneath, just as Lottie had seen when she first began experimenting with the formula. “You are deluded, Captain. You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind. Unlike you, I embrace it proudly. Without fear!”

“Then how come you’re running?”

Steve never got an answer. Schmidt and the other man had already boarded an elevator and left them standing on the catwalk, nearly helpless.

Another explosion went off, cueing the trio to leave, “C’mon, let’s go. Up.” Lottie instructed the men to follow her, though she wasn’t too sure how to escape the factory. All she knew was that they needed to keep ascending the stairs.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they were faced with a metal beam that led to a catwalk with an exit. It was terrifyingly slim, with only enough room to place one foot in front of the other.

“Ladies first,” Bucky murmured, “but I’ll be right behind you.” Lottie felt sure of herself knowing that at least she wouldn’t have to cross on her own.

She took a tentative first step, testing how well it would hold her weight. Lottie tried not to look down at the fiery pit below while she carefully moved along the beam. It was a comfort to have Bucky behind her with his chest nearly pressed against her back as he followed her every step. Lottie had just scrambled over the railing of the catwalk when a jarring explosion shifted the beam’s position and sent it careening downwards. She gasped in horror as Bucky leaped to grab onto the catwalk.

“There’s gotta be a rope or something!”

Steve stared at the two of them from across the pit, “Just go! Get out of here!”

Bucky slammed his fist on the railing, desperation tearing at his voice, “No, not without you!”

“Steve, please! We can’t just leave you here!” Lottie pleaded. Steve couldn’t die, not like this.

With a look of determination, Steve backed up and made a running jump to clear the gap between the two catwalks. An explosion threatened to swallow him up, but he made it over safely, although a little worse for wear.

Lottie and Bucky could only stare in amazement. Steve nodded to them both, “Let’s get outta here.”

Several ladders and a whole lot of dodging later, the trio found themselves trudging towards the tree line.

It was silent amongst the three of them; painfully, dreadfully silent. She decided it was time to break the silence, “Bucky, I—”

“Look, Little Lottie, I know you’re sorry, alright? And I forgive you. Even though you lied to my face and left without saying goodbye, I had a whole lotta time to spend forgiving you.”

Now that the fear of being caught by Hydra soldiers had fully subsided, Lottie allowed herself to let out a sob of joy and nearly threw herself at Bucky. She almost apologized for the force of her embrace since it was likely to hurt a man who’d been captured by Hydra, but he didn’t show any sign of pain. She’d need to remember that for later.

“I missed you so much, Bucky. I really did,” Lottie nearly whimpered. Gosh, she sure sounded lovesick. “I missed you too, Little Lottie.” His embrace was sure and strong, and with it, a flood of memories came back to her. Nights on her fire escape. A birthday evening spent swing dancing. A lucky penny slipped into her hand. For the first time in months, Lottie finally felt whole. Her heart that had been splintered into shards of pain and hopelessness had finally begun to mend itself back together. While she found comfort in his arms and forgiveness, she knew there were still so many words left unsaid; words that he needed and deserved to hear.

“Yeah, I missed you guys too,” Steve muttered, obviously peeved that he was being left out of their moment.

“Aw, come on, Stevie,” Lottie grinned and pulled away from Bucky a little to allow Steve to join their hug.

“And if I remember correctly, Bucky, I think it’s actually Little Saint Lottie now,” she grinned. While she couldn’t see his face at the moment, she just knew it was turning a gorgeous shade of scarlet, based on the sputtering coming out of his mouth.

30 notes · View notes

bastillia · 4 years

Text

First Lesson (NSFW)

Read on Ao3

Summary: Commander Kylo Ren needs a competent officer to accompany him on an important mission, and he has requested you specifically. When he discovers that you don't know how to pilot a TIE fighter, he takes it upon himself to fix that. Turns out cockpits are good for other things, too.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 7.4k

Content Warnings: possible dubcon, choking, spanking, inappropriate use of the Force, rough sex, minimal aftercare, cockwarming… yeah.

A/N: Wow so this is officially my first published work after lurking in the fandom for a good 4 years??? Holy shit. I'm super nervous, but hey, I've got to start somewhere! I've had this silly idea gnawing around in my little rat brain for fucking ever, so it feels good to finally pound it out (heh). I have... literally never written smut before, sooo I welcome any feedback. Thank you for reading this!

"Take a fighter. Follow me to the surface."

The commander strode powerfully over the gangway, dismissing you with a flick of his gloved hand as he approached the yawning cockpit of his TIE silencer. Engineers scrambled aside like rats to sunlight as he moved, conveniently parting a clear path for you to follow the rippling tower of black robes across the platform. You stumbled and jogged slightly to keep up, your gaze shifting nervously along the sinister row of TIE fighters. They sat anchored to the dock, still as a cavalry line at dawn, each black durasteel destrier awaiting its chance to charge into battle. But there was no impending fight here. Why weren't you taking the command ship?

"Commander. Sir, w-wai-" You collided with an unyielding wall of black, having not been looking where you were going. Ren had stopped and was now turned to look at you, posture stiff, eyes burning with impatience. You straightened sharply and jumped back, shying away from your next words as your cheeks burned under the dark beam of his stare.

"I... I don't know how to fly one. S-sir." You managed to say, and your heart plummeted into your stomach with the admission. It seemed childish. Silly. But-- what would he think of you now? You had always admired the commander more than you'd ever admit to your peers, and if you were honest, you found him wildly, dangerously attractive. There was something about the way he barely held back. The fire that shone behind his dark eyes like they were the only living part of a face cast in carbonite, that made you dare to wonder what he would look like if he let go. The power that radiated from him was always so visceral, yet restrained. Except, of course, when he had his outbursts. You only ever saw the aftermath: a shredded, glowing control panel, a dazed and heaving officer slumped against the floor after being Force-choked within an inch of death over a particularly inconvenient mistake. You'd be lying if you said such unbridled evidence of his power didn't stoke a flame of intrigue. And perhaps something else.

You had only recently been promoted to lieutenant general, but you had a feeling Kylo Ren had watched you closely for some time. You saw it in the shift of his eyes whenever you passed him by, the particular burn of his stare when you delivered reports on behalf of your superior general. You'd never known a commander to hold such a piqued interest in the drabble of stormtrooper reconditioning scores. Or why he had to fix his gaze so intently on you that you could swear he was trying to turn your blood molten.

You knew that you were more than competent in your position, yet you couldn't quell a desire to impress the commander. Whether it was with your sharp aptitude for command, tactical maneuvers, or securing risky strategic alliances, you always tried to establish presence. To command the room, intimidate both your peers and subordinates with your sharp wits, and earn those rare, blood-branding stares of approval from Kylo Ren when your steel confidence washed a hush over the room. What you'd never admit was how that steel later melted down into gushing whimpers under the forge of your sheets, imagining the kinds of things that your commander might do to you.

You'd had to forcibly smother your elation when you received the order for your aid specifically on this mission, not even knowing until a few minutes ago that it was you, and only you, that Kylo Ren had requested to come along. It sank like a cold blade into your gut now to know that your ineptitude would make him think less of you. The knife twisted with the realization that you would be left behind on the only opportunity you might ever get to spend some time alone with the commander.

He looked at you for a moment, expression unreadable. How had your command training not included basic piloting by default? A brief flash of anger lit his eyes and set his jaw tight as he thought about whoever's incompetence he would have to deal with later when he reviewed the training program. But for now, there was no time.

Your eyes were fixed to the metal grate of the floor, stomach knotting, as you steeled a calm mask over the disappointment that tightened your throat. You began to speak, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. "I’m sorry, Commander. I will inform mission control that you are in need of--" Before you could finish, Kylo Ren clamped his arm around your waist, pulling you firmly to his body as he leveraged his hips in one fluid motion to drag you with him into the small cockpit of the TIE silencer.

Your brain reeled, a small yelp escaping your lips as your ass landed firmly into his lap, one of his arms anchoring you there while his other hand reached to flick a control above him. Before you could stammer out the question of what the fuck he was doing, the cockpit was already hissing closed around you both.

"First lesson."

Your pulse was a flurry. He began to flip the controls absently, looking easily over your head as you awkwardly adjusted yourself on his thighs. The space was so small, there was absolutely no position you could assume that didn't involve your ass planted into his hips, your back against his broad torso, and your calves draped around either side of his ridiculously long legs. Your head spun. The thrusters hummed to life. Fuck. Everything was moving too fast. His gloved hand began to point individually at each control he had just engaged.

"Auxiliary."

His voice was dead even as he pointed to the first switch on your left, the movement of his arm making his chest ripple under your shoulder blade. Your brain was a mess of thrill and panic. Was this really happening right now? Heat flowed in a river down your spine and pooled in the roiling cauldron of your belly. Whether it wanted to wash you away, or pull you in like a rip current to his body, you couldn’t decide. His hand moved to a lower control panel where the second switch sat, affording you little time to take in what he was saying.

"Compressor."

You tried hard to focus on his words, blinking the spinning confusion out of your eyes as you dumbly studied the path his hand had just taken. You blinked again, hard. Auxiliary. Compressor. Okay. You forced yourself to bid the controls to memory, trying to catch up as he moved along. Four adjacent switches to your right had been next.

"Ignition,"

His gloved finger drew languidly against the curved switch in a way that suddenly made your skin light up against every solid line of his body pressed flush to yours. Your thighs tensed. Heat climbed your neck as you struggled to hold onto a fragile thread of focus.

"Thrusters."

He gestured to the final three buttons. Fucking breathe. Ignition, thrusters. Okay. Simple enough. You sobered yourself sternly and nodded your understanding as you flicked your gaze along the control path that started the engines, internally repeating it several times as your heartbeats became distinguishable again. It was quick. Concise. Fitting, you thought, for a state-of-the-art starfighter prototype that might need to get airborne in a hurry. It was certainly far less brain-scrambling than the orchestrations you'd seen performed upon the control panels of freighters to wrangle them towards liftoff. Why don't they label anything in those damn ships anyways?

"Now," Ren’s hands gripped your hips, instantly shattering your moment of composure. Stars, why did he have this effect on you? And why did a part of you never want it to end? He adjusted your seat, pressing you slightly straighter against him, and you could feel the warm, solid contour of his abdomen flex under your spine. You swallowed hard.

"Steering is intuitive." His palms smothered the backs of your hands as he picked them up, guiding them to grasp the vertical steering grips. Your blood felt uncomfortably hot in your veins. He kept his hands wrapped firmly over top of yours, arms encircling you like a gigantic fucking scaffold, coaxing you to lift the handles very slightly upwards. The craft lurched to life in response, and you were suddenly thankful for his hands holding yours steady as your heart threatened to explode from your ribs.

It was intuitive, you'd give him that, even if your intuition felt starkly absent from your brain at the moment. The body of the craft lifted smoothly, almost sentiently, with the subtle upward press of the handles. Still, the sudden g-force of liftoff sank you firmly into the commander's lap, amplifying an alarming and far too pleasant stir that agitated the pit of your belly.

You breathed slowly, trying to stay as still as possible on top of him, your brain still coming to grips with what the fuck was occurring right now. You thought maybe you'd had a dream like this once. Come to think of it, the enigmatic commander had starred in many of your most pleasant dreams -- with or without the mask. Oh, stars. You screwed your eyes tight, inwardly cursing your useless fucking brain. Did you really have to think about that right now? You were definitely blushing. A puff of breath hit the back of your neck. Wait- Did he just chuckle?

You didn't have time to figure out the answer as his gloved hands flexed over the top of yours and your eyes flew open, finding that the fighter was now hovering a comfortable distance from the hangar floor. He pressed your joined hands forward, and the ship responded gorgeously, accelerating towards the mouth of the docking bay in a smooth departure that made your veins flutter with a thrill of adrenaline. Vacuous darkness swallowed the viewport as the Supremacy was left swiftly in your wake, and you released a lungful of air you didn't know you had been holding. An unexpected calmness suddenly blanketed you as everything fell to the periphery. As your wide eyes adjusted to the void, a spattering of stars slowly blinked into view, decorating the expanse. It was... silent. Still. Breathtaking.

Ren pulled the grips under your hands back like the reins of an obedient steed, and the craft responded as such. The only indication that the fighter had stilled was the slightly quieter hum of the idling ion thrusters vibrating softly through the air of the cockpit. Your respite was brief. The tranquility of space was magnifying your far-from-tranquil realization that you were now decidedly, irreversibly alone with the commander, and your insides folded in half.

You hardly dared to breathe, let alone move, your senses suddenly augmented and trained sharply onto Kylo Ren as you sat pressed into his lap. His lap. Maker, have mercy. Your clean-pressed uniform suddenly felt tight and stifling around your neck, and you swallowed thickly.

"Take over."

He spoke curtly into the silence, almost making you jump as the baritone rumbled close to your ear. Stars, everything he said was a fucking command. You couldn’t deny how much you’d always enjoyed the rich color of his natural, unmodulated voice, taking secret reverence in the way he could paralyze a room with it. Nor could you ignore the way that every word he spoke was now having the opposite effect, riling up that dismayingly persistent heat between your legs.

He slid his hands off of yours, leaving you in full command of the sleek starfighter. Nerves needled a patchwork in your gut as you stared disconnectedly at your own bare hands gripping the controls. They might as well have been someone else's entirely. Two palms settled over the tops of your thighs, and the gesture pierced all the way to your brain.

By the void, calm the fuck down. You grounded yourself sternly, tightening your grip around the contoured handles and forcing yourself to feel their texture, the ridges that dug into your skin, the tension that rippled up your arms and into your shoulders as you squeezed them. Breathe. There was a reason you'd been promoted so fast: it was your aptitude toward levelness and situational control under pressure. You could do this. Just... treat it like another test. Taking a steadying breath and fixing your brow in determination, you pressed the grips forward.

If you thought takeoff was intuitive, now that you somewhat had your frayed wits about you, this was like an extension of your own consciousness. The silencer handled like a dream, and you quickly got the hang of its basic movements, almost forgetting your strange predicament as you took surprising delight in steering the agile craft through the vacuum of space. Kylo Ren hardly moved beneath you. He seemed to be letting you feel the ship out on your own, but his hands occasionally flexed over the curve of your thighs, his fingers splaying into a wide grip that pressed heat into your veins. An alarming reminder, each time, that he was paying attention. Always paying attention.

You cut the silencer back towards the Supremacy after a short while, and were surprised to note that the stifling mega class dreadnought seemed much… smaller, from out here. It felt strange, looking upon the massive vessel that encompassed your entire life, whose halls and chambers you had meticulously memorized, as if it were no more than a distant memory. The perspective settled a quiet feeling inside you that you couldn’t quite formulate.

Also in view, and framing the silhouette of the star destroyer impressively, was your ultimate destination. A large planet, twinkling with tiny rivers of light between clouds, and crowned in a halo of white flame from this system's central star. The planet would be the site of your mission, which, you noted -- the commander still hadn't even briefed you on. You funneled the nervous pang at the thought into determination as you caressed the controls again, considerably braver now about handling the craft.

In a moment of spontaneity, you locked the arches of your feet under Ren's calves and accelerated sharply, whipping the silencer into a tight barrel roll. A breathy, delighted laugh swelled in your chest before you could catch it as you righted the ship to its initial orientation again.

"Good," Ren murmured into your hair, a large hand sliding up to your belly as you reined the ship smoothly to a halt. He pressed you slightly tighter to him with a splayed palm, his strong nose grazing your ear, and the responding thrill between your thighs set your brain back to spinning. You suddenly became aware of a firm knot under your seat that you hadn't noticed before, and your breath stopped. You'd been so distracted maneuvering the ship, you couldn't be sure. You cocked your hips slightly, daring to shift against him, and with the movement it was undeniable: Kylo Ren was hard as a rock.

You gasped, and the moment you tensed, a gloved hand snaked up to slam into your throat and pull you roughly back against a solid chest, breath hot and immediate in your ear.

"Don't think I haven't noticed..." His voice was dark and dangerous as his free hand slid to your inner thigh, gripping the sensitive flesh there, your airway closed tight. You trembled, pulse galloping, as a spear of adrenaline ignited each of your most primal instincts at once.

"...How you can hardly keep those eyes to yourself around me." His lips were warm against the shell of your ear as his nose grazed the baby hairs at your temple, the feeling adding a confusing tingle to the sharp claws of terror that gripped you. Your pulse was deafening, and you struggled to find either breath or coherence under his iron grip. His hand on your throat loosened slightly with a creak of leather, and the sweetness of air crashed into your lungs.

"I could say the same," you breathed without thinking, suddenly wondering if you actually had a deathwish. His hand flexed threateningly on your throat and you flinched, but he simply breathed a dark chuckle into the hollow of your ear. Oh. That made you fucking shiver.

"Observant." He slowly ground his hips up into you, more or less fucking his prominent erection against your ass. Needles of fear laced confusingly into a wash of desire as a soft noise escaped you, and you bit your lip to catch it in its tracks as he continued. "But I know every thought you've ever had about me, lieutenant." Oh, stars. Fuck. You knew he’d paid attention to you, but not that closely.

"It's pathetic, really… " He continued to grind torturously against you, his broad hand pinning your thigh the same way a predator might hold down a piece of live prey that it wants to toy with for a while before killing. "...The way you try so hard to impress me." His growl bottomed out on the emphasis with a decisive roll of his hips that sent an electric shock careening to your core. You squirmed against him, but his grip on your neck and leg had you on an axis that allowed precious little freedom. His hips continued their disciplined pace as he spread his knees slightly, forcing your own to follow, and his thumb traced electricity into the tender patch of thigh just below your most intimate parts. You clenched at the closeness of it.

"But…” he purred, tone shifting slightly.

“The things that cross your mind at night?" You froze with dread, wishing the ice in your spine would somehow percolate into the space around you, freeze it into stasis so that he wouldn't continue with his next words. But Kylo Ren was a furnace, burning the unlimited fuel of your fear, and he rumbled on.

"When you touch that wet little cunt, and think about me?" He lifted his palm away briefly - the predator's illusion of mercy - before delivering a hard, stinging smack straight to your inner thigh. Your cunt convulsed.

"Filthy."

A silent pause filled the cockpit, allowing both the word and the impact to sink into your nerves before he slowly circled his glove across the tingling flesh under his hand. Your bones went gelatinous, and, stars, you whimpered. It was a sound so foreign to even your own ears, that you startled yourself.

His straining cock pulsed against the curve of your ass, and he swore darkly, sliding his hand on your thigh up to cup your sex through the fabric of your pants. You were already wet and aching, you could feel it, but the slight pressure of his hand over your sensitive heat drove your need to a frenzy. Another whine leaked unbidden from your lips.

“Tell me, lieutenant, how do you prefer me?” His voice was cruel and dark, drawing out your torment as he began to tease your slit with a pressure so light you thought you might die on the spot.

“With, or without the mask?” He pressed down, rolling his forefinger over your clit in a firm motion that sent sparks into your brain. Your mouth fell open in an obscene moan that echoed around the cockpit. Kylo Ren stiffened, tightening his grip on your throat and stilling the pressure on your aching bud.

He didn't have to say anything for you to know in your gut that an answer was required. Your stomach quivered. This was his game, and you were going to have to play at it if you wanted any of your deepest, most secret desires to come to fruition now. And stars, you wanted it bad. You found a few breaths, collecting fragments of your voice.

"Any w-way you'd have me, C-commander." Your voice was hardly intact, but you managed to breathe the words out through your daze of terror and need, finally pushing your own ass back into the motion of his hips. He released a warm huff of breath into your ear, seemingly pleased. Thank the Maker.

"That's right."

His soft hair dusted your ear as he dipped to latch a hot kiss into your neck, pulling your head slightly aside for better access. His tongue was molten and wet against your skin, and the feeling sank straight to your core. You reeled and whined as he sucked a bruise into your throat, taking his time tasting you, his hand over your pants drawing an embarrassing volume of wetness from your aching cunt already. You dropped your hands beside you and sunk your nails into the fabric over his thighs, need overflowing from your skin and into his body.

Kylo Ren sucked a breath through his teeth and slipped the hand on your throat upwards, gripping your jaw instead and pushing the leather pad of his forefinger through your lips. You accepted it a little too eagerly, sucking it in delicately and running your tongue across the ridges in the supple material as you relished the expensive taste. He hummed and slid a second thick digit into your mouth as his lips and teeth continued to worry the tender skin of your neck, and you were sure you would bear the dark purple evidence of his possession for at least a week. You didn't care.

His ministrations had your body pliant and wanting in no time, and your thighs had involuntarily begun to relax, falling wider around each side of his lap even as the sharp edge of a control panel dug into your leg. You felt the rigid hilt of the saber on his hip as well, a sensation that paralyzed you for a moment with a new spike of fear and thrilling desire. He ascended from your neck with a sharp nip.

"So eager, lieutenant." He clicked his tongue once and landed a sharp spank straight to the mound of your pussy. It made you jump, and clench hard with a small, leather-muffled yelp. He deftly switched hands, removing his fingers from your mouth as his other hand closed around your neck. His moistened digits dipped below the waistband of your pants, and you felt his own breaths quicken underneath your shoulders, exciting you. The smooth, warm leather slid easily down your folds, drawing a gasp from you as he collected and spread your arousal. Now, this, you had definitely dreamed about before. He circled slowly across your clit, slicking it over in a motion that sparked white ecstasy through your nerve endings, and you whined pathetically.

"What would your superiors think," Kylo Ren's deep, mocking voice dripped through you as he slid one finger down to tease your entrance. Your hips bucked, trying in vain to draw him in. "If they knew what a desperate little whore you are for your commander?"

Your brain stuttered then. An involuntary smirk pulled at your lips as you conjured the image of your superior general, and how his eyes always seemed to darken when they wandered a little too far down your uniform. You didn't consider the fact that your mind was on full display to Ren before the brat center of your brain produced one clear thought.

They'd envy my commander.

You bit your tongue hard the second the thought formed, as if you could banish it with the flash of pain, hoping desperately that he hadn't read your mind. But the way that Ren’s whole body went rigid suggested otherwise. Maker damn your smart ass.

His hand fisted into your hair, wrecking your neat bun, and he wrenched your head to the side, forcing you to look up at him. Your brows knitted together in pain, but you dared not whine about it as you met his stare. His eyes were black saucers, clouded with such a tenebrous fury and lust that it made your walls flutter in time with your stomach.

"Is that so?" The ice in his voice squeezed your veins.

Gone was all that confidence that you prided yourself on in your profession, all the poise and tact and sharpness of wit. It slipped as easily as water through your fingers now as you drowned in the inky depths of his stare, fear anchoring your words to your diaphragm with no means of escape.

Ren studied you, embers flaring in the pits of those live irises, framed by the beautiful stone hearth of his face. He moved your head back and forth a bit by his grip in your hair. You winced, but your muscles might as well have been liquid, unable to resist him in the slightest. He was testing your pliancy, considering.

"Open your mouth."

There was no warmth, no tease behind the words, and as if they flowed straight into your neurons directly, you obeyed. Your jaw fell open, your pink tongue pushing slightly against the pillow of your lower lip as it rested over your bottom teeth. He spat into your mouth, holding your stare in the tight space as… Oh. He sank two thick fingers straight into your soaking core, stretching you full, holding them rooted inside you. You might as well have been vibrating.

"Swallow."

The command was deadly. You snapped your jaw shut and complied, heart thrumming with fear and a hot, blooming need originating from the delicious ache that now filled your walls but refused to move. You whined, trying weakly to shift your hips for any amount of friction on his hand, but his hold on you tightened, immobilizing you.

"Impudence will get you nothing." He uttered warningly, never breaking your stare as his fingers began to pump slowly, agonizingly inside of you. You could feel yourself dripping around him now as the ridged leather of his gloves did something delicious to your walls. "Don't you want to come, little whore?"

You were putty in his lap. "Yes, Commander, sir." You managed to groan out quietly, embracing the pain that screamed through your scalp. His plump, gorgeous lips were parted slightly, a signal of desire to underlie the tempest of his stare. You relaxed more into his grip, hoping your show of submission would drive him just a little more wild, just a little closer to... Yes.

He yanked you closer and stroked his hot tongue into your mouth in a fucking vulgar kiss that spun your brain like a top. You suppressed a sigh as the taste of him filled you, his plush lips divine and remarkably soft against your mouth as you melted into the heat of his possessive kiss. He jerked you away by your hair long before you'd had your fill of his taste, a thin string of spit connecting you as you squeaked a pathetic sound. Your disappointment was fleeting, though, because his fingers were now curling faster against a heavenly spot inside of you that was beginning to coil you tight.

"Then be good."

You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, bit down, and nodded as well as you could with his fingers rooted into your follicles. He watched the ecstasy blossom across your face as his thumb began to pass in quick circles over your sensitive clit. A cry fell from your lips as your pleasure began to overtake you, his fingers building you towards a crescendo that threatened to split you clear in half with a galaxy between. You didn't even have to try to keep your mind blank now as he consumed your every nerve ending in rippling pleasure, and soon you were barreling towards the event horizon of climax with every stroke of his digits and every slick pass of leather over your delicate pearl of nerves. Sparks flowed like hot plasma to your extremities as your walls began to flutter tight. You whined the warning of it as your brows drew together in restraint, pleading silently for the commander to send you halfway to hyperspace with the orgasm that teetered in your core.

"That's right, cum for me, little whore." His voice was harsh and cruel and delicious and everything your reeling brain needed to send you barreling over the precipice. Your orgasm split you, blanching your vision as your walls slammed down around his fingers and you sobbed out the waves of your release. He didn't slow, drawing out your climax to an impossible length as each clench sent you spinning and wailing again. Ren groaned and cursed under his breath as he watched you come apart, leaning on the familiar edge of desperate self control as his stiff cock twitched violently under the confines of his trousers.

He slowed and withdrew his hand from your pants, allowing you to come down with shallow breaths. He brought the hand up to taste you slowly from the glistening leather of his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, and the sight made your insides combust. He hummed a low, appreciative sound before shoving the cum-slicked digits roughly into your mouth. The sweet tang of your juices flooded your senses as he sat you back up against him, such that you faced the viewport again. Impossible as it realistically was, it suddenly felt as if the entire Supremacy may as well have just watched you cum like a trained whore around Kylo Ren's fingers. The thought tickled your belly as you laved your tongue over his glove, still warm from your cunt, your body thrumming with the high of post-orgasmic ecstasy as you diligently cleaned the ridges. Your insatiable pussy clenched hard when you felt his length grind against your ass, reminding you of its presence, and you suddenly ached to be filled again. You whimpered into his hand as you rolled your hips.

"You want my cock?" His voice was ragged in your ear, hardly restrained as he fucked his bulge against you. You nodded with an obscene whine, clutching the sides of his thighs and using them as leverage to grind yourself into his throbbing length. He cursed.

"Filthy girl."

Ren released you, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and hair, and you collapsed back against his chest, panting. He shoved at the waistband of your pants, and with a thrill, you lifted your hips as far as you could to allow him to yank them down around your thighs, panties and all.

He propped you forward slightly, bringing a hand behind you to wrestle with the clasp of his own trousers. He unleashed his cock and sat you back over it, so that it rested thickly between the flesh of your thighs, flush with the swollen line of your wet slit. You looked down and gulped. Stars, he was big. Not that you expected any different -- you'd be the first to admit that this man carried himself like he was packing. Still, you couldn't suppress a twinge of nerves as you looked down at the fat head of him, swollen beautifully at the end of a thick shaft and leaking a bead of pre cum between your thighs. He rocked his hips up, and the thick, velvety length of his cock parted your lips, coating the top of his shaft in your wetness as it slid against your tender folds.

You whined, your walls screaming to be filled, to be stretched, and you strained your pelvis down towards his dick, but the angle was all wrong for you to have any control. His glove snaked into your hair and fisted it roughly, yanking you immobile again as you gasped.

"Beg."

Your pussy throbbed, dignity a distant echo in your brain as you keened and clenched around nothing. You'd never been known to beg for anything in your life, but with the way that every nerve ending in your body felt like it was curling towards him, trying to take root, to feel him in every way possible, you were sure you'd do anything to earn his cock now.

"P-please-" it came out in a whisper, your voice absent from your chest, and he jostled you by your scalp sharply. Pain shot through your nerves, somehow only kindling the flames of need that were licking up your spine and you yelped, the roughness punching your voice back into you.

"I can't fucking hear you." He growled through his teeth, breath crackling in his throat as he fought his own restraint. The sound shot a thrill through you. Oh, you were gone.

"Ple-ase, s-sir, please f-fuck me," you moaned louder, and your voice sounded foreign through the ring in your ears. Your thighs strained against the hobble of your waistband as your body tried to spread and arch back for him like a bitch in heat. Thoroughly carried away, heady pleas continued to pour from your mouth. "I n-eed your cock in me, Com-commander, please." He huffed a pleased sound, pulling you back until his lips grazed your ear.

"Good girl."

He released your hair and gripped your hips hard, lifting you up just enough for the head of his cock to slide down towards your entrance. You found yourself pressing your palms eagerly into the seat, pushing yourself up to give your commander better access. You tipped your hips until you felt the swollen head of him perfectly align with your soaked entrance, and-- Oh, fuck.

Even thoroughly lubricated with your own cum, it was a tight fit as he began to sink you down. You whimpered as the angle forced you to take the entirety of him, struggling to relax your tight walls through your descent. You were sure you'd never taken a man nearly this big, sure that your body might break open around him, and yet you were determined to withstand his challenge. He hissed slowly through his teeth as he buried into you inch by steady inch, until you finally sat flush with his lap again, keening from the pleasant sting of complete fullness.

Ren choked on a stifled groan as you reached the hilt of him, his grip bruising your waist as he held you there for a moment. He shifted you both forward, allowing him to brace you up with his arms, and pumped his hips once slowly to test the position. The feeling of his thick cock sliding tight against your walls until it pressed your cervix was as obscene as it was delicious, and as he buried himself again, you couldn't hold back the wanton moan that tore itself from your diaphragm.

"Fuck," You heard Ren mutter raggedly behind you as he adjusted his grip. He began to rut his hips up into you at a punishing tempo, and your thoughts evaporated as his cock slammed over and over into the epicenter of your core. You cried out, voice hitching from his pace and ferocity, as you wildly clutched at the side of a control panel for stability. Somehow the pain of taking him over and over began to morph into blinding oblivion, and the viewport swam before your eyes as you lost yourself in the furious rhythm of his cock.

Ren grabbed your neck and arched you back against his chest, slowing his pace enough to allow shards of air to fight back into your starved lungs. The slower thrusts, the slick feeling of every ridge and vein of him, sent a spike of voltage through your limbs that jump started your senses again.

"Was I wrong to assume you could handle me, lieutenant?" He purred breathily as he slowed to nearly a stop, though clearly not intending to cease his torment altogether. You whined your dissent and tried to roll your hips down into him, hoping to fuck yourself on his cock, to feebly prove that you could take him. "No?" His voice dripped warm with mockery. "We'll see."

His grip anchored you fast. You gasped, almost panicking for a moment as a foreign pressure began to flit and squeeze around your clit. It wasn't his hand. One was controlling your neck, the other a vice on your hip. You didn't have much time to register the fact that he was using the Force until his hips were moving again, his cock filling you whole at a steady pace as that strange and wonderful pressure swirled faster at your bud.

Then suddenly his hand was closing like a leather serpent around your neck, slowly, expertly constricting your pulse. A primal burst of adrenaline blinded you for a moment. He could kill you. It rang between your ears, imploring you to resist, but your body was so pliant, so wholly under the spell of submission, that the thrill melted into something warmer. Something perhaps like trust, but with a much sharper edge as it cut a path through your veins. He squeezed your arteries steadily until your hearing began to fog and inky motes crossed your vision. Pressure swelled in your head, the cockpit beginning to drift away around you until all that grounded you to reality was the steady pumping of the cock inside your cunt and the Force at your clit shooting effervescent waves of pleasure into your darkening brain.

Just as the cusp of total unconsciousness began to seduce you, the pressure vanished. Ren slammed his length into you, and you gulped a massive breath of air as the Force jetted against your clit. Your orgasm crested hard, and shot you over the edge faster than you'd have ever thought possible as he held you steady and pounded into your core. You screamed as your release tore through your body in a perfect harmonic overtone to the oxygen flooding back into your brain, and the combined relief washed such a powerful bliss through your nerves that in that moment, you felt as if the very fabric of space could part for you.

"That's it, fuck, good fucking girl." Ren’s snarls were filthy and delicious in your ear as he continued to fuck you hard, the pace of his cock refusing to let your body come down from the orgasm. You keened and moaned in an incoherent stupor as he slammed up against a spot inside you that was somehow, impossibly, pushing you towards the edge again already. Another orgasm ripped through you, this one singeing your nerve endings as you felt his thrusts become unsteady. Ren bellowed through gritted teeth as he came, cock pulsing inside you while your quaking walls milked him through his release. He pumped you slowly through your aftershocks, tensing with each clench of your cunt around his oversensitive dick, until your bodies stilled in a tranquil beat of silence and shared breathing.

You didn't know at what point he had wrapped both of his arms around you, but you snapped to the realization that Kylo Ren was now holding you tight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he came down through shuddering breaths. You blinked, slowly bringing the geometric planes of the viewport back into blurred focus, and then beyond it, the distant Supremacy.

It hung suspended like a leviathan in the void, a staunch and silent voyeur to the star-shattering sequence of undoing and accretion that you had just experienced here at the hands and cock of your inscrutable commander. You couldn't be totally sure this hadn't all been another dream, but the feeling of him now was so real, so warm, so human in the depth of his breathing and the slight dampness of his skin against yours, that you were sure no version of Kylo Ren you'd ever conjured in your dreams could feel like this.

You didn't move, didn't dare, but simply felt him encase you, afraid to break whatever spell was holding you in this moment. In a place where maybe, maybe, you could pretend that you weren't just a rank. Or a strategist, or a minuscule pawn in the grander scheme of First Order rule. Here you were a body, yes, but a body that intertwined with something beyond material. Something that laced gently with the threads of humanity behind the frozen carbonite mask of Kylo Ren, which now seemed to thaw for the smallest moment as he held you wrapped in an embrace that could almost be mistaken for tenderness.

Almost.

Your high descended on clipped wings as he finally stirred, settling colder in your stomach as he loosened his arms and you waited for whatever would happen now. He was still inside of you, and half-hard at that, but even so, you felt filled to the brim with his cum and stretched tight around him. Your body bemoaned the idea of vacancy, but if time was up, then it was up. You weren't about to push it. You started to move, shifting to lift off of him.

"No. Stay." He murmured against your neck, and you almost questioned whether your brain had shorted out and you'd misheard him. He coaxed you back against his chest with a press of his palm, and you hesitantly allowed the gentleness of it to malleate your rigid spine. Your brain misfired again as you felt the soft brush of his thumb running slowly up and down the contour of your ribs. Your pulse skipped into your throat. You didn't dare allow your body to think that this was anything akin to intimacy. You had been starved of it for so long that if you let it believe so, you might fully lose sight of the fine line you were now walking. And if you fell, it would be straight onto a saber's edge. The vibration of your body fighting against its own tension ricocheted to the walls of your pussy, and as you squeezed him slightly, you felt his cock already beginning to harden again inside you. Your breath hitched.

Kylo Ren made no acknowledgment of the exchange as he peeled his face from your neck, straightening slightly. He reached his long arms around you to grip the controls of the silencer, but didn't move the craft. He sat still. Contemplative, perhaps.

You were leaned back against his shoulder, forehead resting just by his jaw, and you dared to let your face tuck gently towards him. You waited for a reaction -- to be pushed away, for some signal that you'd overstepped. But he was still. You cautiously nestled the bridge of your nose against his neck, feeling the steady thrum of pulse there, the soft currents of breath that drifted from his nose down to trickle across your skin. You tried to memorize the warm, masculine scent of him that drifted up from his collar, magnified by body heat, stirred by the gentle tide of his breathing. Oh, how long it had been since you'd had this…

The oxytocin-riddled valleys of your mind echoed with a sudden and deadly urge to tilt up and press a soft kiss under his jaw, but a harness of fear held you still as you remembered your place, and the fragility of whatever this was. Instead, you squeezed his cock with your warmth again, a flame of lust already flickering against your belly and providing a welcome distraction from the confusion that was drawing and quartering your brain.

Ren's chest swelled with a soft "mmph" as he seemed to come out of his own trance of thought. You wondered if he'd even been listening to yours at all. He rocked his hips once, the slide of his stiffening cock making your walls leak, and you sighed. Yes. This was fine. This was simple. He pressed his hands forward, beginning to guide the craft towards the twinkling planet in no particular hurry. You gripped his thighs and rolled your hips, squeezing and riding him slowly so as not to break his concentration as he guided you both through the silent expanse of space.

Yes, it was best just to enjoy the simplicity of this. Of two bodies exorcising your respective tensions through the physical release you could pull from one another. And soon it would be over, and the chaos would resume around you, and you'd carry on like your spirits hadn't just fused like two atoms -- for a microsecond -- within a supernova of passion in the middle of space. And that was fine. That was for the best.

So you fixed yourself on that tangible goal of physical pleasure, on the rhythm of your hips, on keeping your commander nice and hard and ready for whatever he decided was next.

Because if you were good enough, then maybe.

Just maybe.

You'd earn yourself a second lesson.

***

Update: Part 2 here.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren smut #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #star wars fanfiction #first lesson #my works #masterlist

2K notes · View notes

fullycakedup-brownie · 3 years

Text

Thank you, lemonheads

Disclaimer: non-pandemic AU; winter setting; fluff; a pinch of spice to make everything nice; swearing; Length: 3906 words; Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen AU; Characters: Yuuji/Sukuna x Black!Fem!Reader

The alarm did not go off at 7 am since it was Saturday, yet your eyes have been wide open for about one hour. The sun rays brought light on the ashy winter sky and you lazily shifted in your bed to check the time. How is it only 7:47 while I feel I’ve been laying here forever? You asked yourself in a deep sigh before you threw away the blanket and sat up on the edge of the bed. A life-saving decision you had taken the night before when you braided your hair, for not a single molecule in your body was able to deal with those shoulder-length thick curls after you wasted your night staring at the ceiling. Your body has developed a habit to wake up around 1 am for no particular reason and have you losing your mind over it. Usually, you managed to fall back asleep quickly, but that night between Friday and Saturday you just couldn’t. No one was online on any social media platform, you knew it would take you more time than available to pick one of the thirty million shows that you wanted to catch up on and you didn’t want to fuck up your night completely, so you forced yourself back into slumber. But now it was morning, your eyes tired and your body heavy.

With your mind set on still having a wonderful free weekend, you rummaged through the cabinets in the lovely apartment you had been thrilled to finally afford, in a futile attempt to grab a bite. You breathed deeply while counting down from ten after finding exactly half of a package of Lemonheads and some leftover seafood on a plate in the fridge. The initial plan was abandoned with the calamari as you headed for the bathroom, knowing for a fact that a nice scrubbing session during a dangerously hot shower will whoosh away all the fatigue and annoyance.

Fresh smell, moisturized gleaming skin, proud dark-brown eyes staring at you from the mirror made you put on a cheeky smile and leave the bathroom barefoot. One step into your bedroom and your stomach almost shouted at you. Ah, I do gotta eat something. McDonald’s it is, then. You were quick to agree to yourself and also to get dressed and leave the house. It has been snowing for a few days so the pavements were covered in a dense layer of white wonder, which made you decide to walk to the breakfast provider, instead of driving there. It wasn’t that far and you also loved the city landscapes.

The neon-yellow combat boots contrasted considerably with the red coat and drew the attention of the entire crowd inside McDonald’s, including one specific young man that was sitting alone at a table in the back. He watched your silhouette walk by a group of boys that didn’t even try to mask their reaction to your looks as you headed to the line to place your order.

“Even I know that it’s not nice to stare,” Sukuna talked all of a sudden, startling poor Itadori and causing him to sink his head deeper in the hood.

“Shut up, someone could hear you,” the boy whispered, looking down on his tray to avoid being heard by other customers.

“Is that the girl you’ve been going on about lately?”

“What girl? There’s no girl. What girl?” Yuuji panicked a bit, the heart racing in his chest letting Sukuna know he was right. Again.

“It’s not that hard. Just go there, what the fuck are you so scared about?” The otherwise thoughtless demon cared to push his host up on his feet.

Swallowing his anxiety along with the gallon of saliva in his mouth, Yuuji left his table, threw the sandwich’s wrapping paper in the trash bin when he passed by and stalled in your proximity on his way out. He just wanted to see you better than he could do it on the high school corridors in the lunch break, but blame it on the coincidence theory, that was the exact moment some Lemonheads slipped from the pocket of your black cargo pants when you pulled out your phone. That was a chance he was not willing to sacrifice. He dropped in a squat, picked the wrapped candies and smiled at you.

“I think you dropped these.”

You turned your head in the direction of the familiar voice only to find the cheerfully grinning pink-haired boy that you could’ve sworn you would fight anyone for.

“Hi. Oh, yes, thanks,” you replied in a pretty much measured tone and grabbed the candies from his palm.

“I’m Yuuji, by the way.” The shot was fired and his blood started boiling under the tension of his mind analyzing all the possible ways you could’ve answered to him. You could’ve laughed, whooshed him away, cringed at his boldness, pulled away or even cut his words. But he did not expect you to shake his hand, with a big smile plastered on your face.

“Alex here. Hi. Do you wann-” the number of your order appeared on the big screen and you paused your question, “-be right back at ya,” you smiled at Yuuji and went to the lady waiting with your bag.

As soon as your eyes got away from his face, Itadori let out a brief silent sigh and filled his hoodie pocket with his fists. This is good. I can do this. What if I ask her out? He was deep in thoughts when a lady shook his shoulder. “Young man, are you ordering, or just blocking the line?” The “I’m tired of you teenagers’ attitude” look on her face disturbed Yuuji and he left the spot, joining you at the front desk.

“Wasn’t you supposed to tell me you were out of the pancake meal? Why did you take my money then?” You tried really hard to hold back some yelling, but a vein on your forehead was definitely popping out.

“What’s the matter?” The boy asked, stopping next to you.

Pure sarcasm on your face when you looked from the staff girl to Yuuji. “I shall be starving to death today.”

“Miss, we can give you something else for the same amount. My colleagues weren’t awa-“

“Just give her a refund. We’ll be fine,” Yuuji stepped in and had both you and the other girl confused.

She gave your money back a bit half-hearted, and truth be told, you were feeling like that too, not only because you were hungry, but man, you loved the pancakes and the bacon and the eggs.

“Where are we going?” You asked, following Itadori out the restaurant after he motioned you to do so.

“I always wanted to try this food, instead of the usual fast-food.”

You had no idea what he was talking about, nor where he was leading you, but your guts weren’t agitated. There was something about that boy that screamed “safety” in your ears. The trip to the unknown food place he was taking you was short and you didn’t really get the time to make any small talk. Yuuji turned his body to face you, suddenly spreading and lifting his arm high up, a cheeky grin on his face when he exclaimed, “I present you ‘Gyros’, my new obsession.”

The fact that no word came out of your mouth as you stood in front of him, with your eyes blinking quickly, wiped Yuuji’s smile away. His confidence took a hike when his hands dropped from the air, where they were pointing at the ‘Gyros’ sign. “Should we just go back to McDonald’s?” He asked, rubbing the back of his head and frowning bashfully, not only because your glare fixed him, but also because Sukuna was laughing powerfully inside his mind.

“You. You have no idea where you just brought me,” your voice sounded more serious than you intended, so you giggled on purpose to loosen the tension because Yuuji looked like he was about to pass out from embarrassment. “Boy, relax. I was kidding-“ you barely held back a laugh, “-this is not my first ride with Gyros,” you finished and rested your palm on his shoulder. The pressure in his chest got released once he realized your playful attitude and he redirected his attention to placing an order he was about to pay for entirely.

Food hits differently at the standing tables and so do conversations. There you were, eating one of your favourite foods, chatting with your newest pal and enjoying the view of the tall city buildings that surrounded you. Once he found comfort in your presence, Yuuji opened up and he appeared even cuter to you than he did before. His eyes would gleam when you found his stupid jokes funny and his loud laughter would join yours when you gossiped like two best friends. The cutest thing about Itadori that you found yourself adoring was that he closed his eyes every time he bit on the gyros. You allowed a discreet smile to form on your lips as you admired him and he wasn’t aware of it. No matter how big of a portion you would’ve bought, it couldn’t take you an eternity to finish up your plate. You actually finished yours sooner than the boy, to steal a few more seconds of watching him perform such an automatic and usual activity as eating because he looked so precious doing it.

“Here, help me up.” Yuuji’s voice pulled you out of your daydreaming just as swiftly as the fry that he pushed into your gaping mouth. You chomped on it instantly and caused Yuuji to laugh at your confused face. “Listen, are you busy today? I was wondering if we could wal-“

“Yes, let’s go,” you answered almost instantly, chugging the rest of the Sprite in the paper cup and grinning back at Yuuji who was once again flustered.

The boy’s face flushed red and he smiled at you right before wiping his lips with a napkin and gathering all the food wrapping. “Where do you want to go?” You asked, watching him have a brain glitch for having to wipe his hands on his pants because he has thrown away all the tissues.

“I was thinking of arcade games, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to, I mean…” Yuuji suggested in a low voice causing Sukuna to roll his eyes aggressively. You are even dumber than I thought, brat. The poor boy shook his head to get rid of the voice and by doing that he missed your reply.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” You shouted, thinking that he didn’t hear you because of all those car horns on the street.

“Yeah, no, sure. Of course, we can do that instead.”

“Bruh, you’re damaged!” You shouted again and started laughing. “I said I will destroy you in the arcade,” you continued, still full-on laughing, the slight touch of your hand on his arm sending him your cheerful vibes.

“If you say so, let’s test it.” Yuuji caught some courage and sped up the pace. “Can you run in those?” He pointed at your boots and chuckled when you threw him a very offended look.

“Excuse you, I can beat you to it!” You accepted the challenge and sprinted away from Yuuji. His light-brown eyes widened in surprise and he started running.

No, you did not win the race. He was already inside RedLine VR when you managed to arrive at the doorstep, barely catching your breath. “I-… I need- … whoa… where did you get that stamina from?” The mock-neck long-sleeved top was practically suffocating you.

“I don’t know. Guess I’m gifted.” Again rubbing the back of his head bashfully, that boy could not be cuter. Or so you thought.

He led you inside the place and even helped you take your coat off as you cracked your knuckles in preparation for beating Yuuji’s ass up in video games. The coloured light from the video game’s display reflected in your gold hoop earrings as much as they reflected in your wide-open gleaming eyes. His eyes spent more time taking in the shape of your face and the colour of your skin more than they did on the actual screen. You unknowingly made him bite his bottom lip when you let out a different type of chuckle. You wanted it to sound devilish, but it didn’t come out quite like that.

Imagine her moaning with that voice, Sukuna busted in Yuuji’s mind, his own rather full of your image, and caused a deep blush on the kid’s face. It was annoying how much affect you had on Yuuji, and he tried to not look at you like that anymore.

Itadori was good at sports, not games, and you won countless rounds leisurely. Each time you shouted your victory, you clapped your hands in delight and made a funny face to Yuuji. He faked slight envy at first, his pathetic whines giving Sukuna a real headache, but eventually, your general happy state made the boy smile. If somebody observed him, they would’ve figured it out in one second that you completely entranced him. As funny as it was to see him struggling to fight you for the first place in the game, you grew bored of the arcade and suggested you went somewhere else.

“Do you want to go to a park?” Yuuji asked, his mind quickly mapping the area for the closest park.

Too many people around, huh? An evil chuckle hit the corners of the poor boy’s head and he tried to keep his secret hidden furthermore.

“A park sounds good, Yuuji. Can I call you Yuuji?” Only after you said it out loud, you remembered about the Japanese courtesy and, feeling a bit weird, you made yourself busy with putting your coat back on.

“Yeah, sure, you can call me Yu-,“ “Daddy,” his voice was cut off by Sukuna’s who whispered loudly enough for the teens around you two to hear.

“YUUJI!” He tried to mask the demon’s voice and covered the mouth on his cheek instantly. “You can call me Yuuji.” He swallowed hard and then smiled as if nothing happened.

“You’re weird, but cutely,” you said with a cheeky smile as you made your way out the room.

He followed soon after scolding his so-called co-inhabitant and walked by your side, between you and the busy road. You took your time walking to Winnemac Park since it would’ve been too much of a bother to take the bus for only one short station. Once inside the park, you felt like the world around you changed: there was undisturbed snow everywhere, Sun was slowly going down and it was silent. Your romantic side emerged and you hung your hand on Yuuji’s forearm. Your affection was electrifying, and even if he didn’t see it coming and hadn’t prepared for it, the boy accepted it gladly by sticking his hand in the hoodie big front pocket, to help your hand rest better on his arm. Fifteen minutes of walking through town have been filled with school gossip, laughing and “get-to-know-you-better” stuff, but as the cold settled down, you both became quieter.

“Hey, look.” You left Yuuji’s side by a couple of steps and you squatted down to grab something from the pavement.

“Wha-“ Boy didn’t stand a chance against your mischievous snowball attack. “Oh, you did not!” He laughed and leaned to the side to gather some snow for his part of the game.

The war was set into motion. Yuuji found it admirable that you managed to dodge many of his shots even while you almost choked on your own laughter. He loved to see you smiling and having a good time, especially because it was due to his actions. For a second, he got lost again in your smile and the snowball that you threw hit him right in the face. The hand he held a snowball in was frozen above his head, as he had prepared to throw it at you before falling in trance. He had no reaction whatsoever and it worried you a hell lot.

“I’m so sorry, Yuuji, are you ok?” You rushed closer to him and wiped the snow off his face with gentle and burning hands.

When his eyes opened, you hated yourself for falling into that old trap. His arms circled you abruptly and he intended to make you fall in the snow, but you proved more agile than he thought and you escaped. Your freedom didn’t last long, though, for he tackled you. Only, he didn’t see that you have reached the margin of the sidewalk and you would’ve fallen on your ass if it wasn’t for his strong grip. He looked astonishing towering like that over you, and not only the situation was somewhat hot, but you also hated to see him win the fight. One of your legs jerked fast and cut Yuuji’s balance, making him fall over you in the snow. Light-brown eyes met dark-brown ones and the imminent sparkle tied your insides in a tight knot. His face was so close to yours that it had you imagine what would happen if you kissed him right then and there. Yet, none of you two moved a muscle, except for the throat muscles who kept gulping timidly.

Alex and Yuuji are in a tree. K-i-s-s-i-n-g! Sukuna’s words echoed in Itadori’s mind and they added to the closeness between your face and his, making him blush deeply. He stood up slowly and helped you on your feet too. Again silence as each of you cleaned the snow off of yourselves, avoiding the awkward moment.

“So, what now? I’m not cold anymore.” You snapped out of it and gave your best to look as normal as before in front of him, even if your stomach had a watermelon-sized hole inside.

“It’s getting late and I don’t really know the city that well at night. You want me to walk you to a bus station or something?” He asked, barely holding his composure in front of you while Sukuna yelled in his mind nonsense like You’re a chicken. A loser. Fucking lame-ass, stupid motherfucker. You could’ve kissed her. You should’ve kissed her! I should’ve taken over the control and kissed her right there!

“Sure. I don’t live far from here actually, you can walk me home if you want,” you suggested, hoping that he won’t interpret it the wrong way.

The weather became surprisingly harsh after sundown and your little coat didn’t do much in protecting you. Instinctively, you neared Itadori more, lured by the warmth his body radiated. As you balanced your gravity centre from one leg to the other, constantly moving your hands to try to keep them from freezing, your hand brushed against Itadori’s, which was hanging loosely by his body. He definitely felt it because you saw his jaw clenching, but he didn’t bring it up. So you did it again.

Oh, man, she’s got balls bigger than you, Sukuna mocked his host and then proceeded to laugh. You’re not gonna do anything about it?

Your ring and middle finger brushed the side of Yuuji’s hand softly as you two continued walking. When his pinkie interlocked with yours, you were no longer cold. The hole in your stomach filled with butterflies and you could feel your heart pounding against your chest. You hated yourself for being that flustered and weak, but from the way his other fingers circled your hand, you knew the feelings would only get more intense. The dark fell rather quickly and you found yourself squeezing Yuuji’s hand, to which he chuckled.

“Are you afraid of darkness?” He asked in a low tone, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“L-lol, no,” you stuttered a bit but smiled as you looked up to Yuuji, who was just teasing you with a gentle look in his eyes.

The way back home is always shorter and you reached the front door of the building you lived in with a lump in your throat. It was time to let go of his hand and maybe, who knew, let go of that moment too. You didn’t know much about Yuuji other than he was a foreign exchange student, who came for who knows how much time in Chicago, he liked Gyros as much as you and he had a lot of running stamina.

“Well, this is where I live, so… see you at school?” You asked sheepishly, slowly growing aware of the blush on Itadori’s face that was now visible because of the street light close-by.

Do it, brat. Do it now. Don’t be a pussy.

“Listen, Alex… Today has been a very nice day and I’m glad you dropped your candies.”

You scoffed at his hilarious confession and attempted to pull your hand away from his, but just as before, in the park when he caught you, Yuuji’s grip remained firm. “No, let me hold it a bit more,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you.

JUST DO IT ALREADY! You’ll thank me later. Sukuna could hear all of Yuuji’s thoughts and feel the desperate hollow in the boy’s chest. He couldn’t take Yuuji’s reticence anymore. Black marks began appearing on Yuuji’s cheekbones and chin and as soon as he sensed his conscience being ripped from him, the boy shouted. “Ok, ok, I’ll do it!”

“Uhm, I didn’t ask you anything… What’s wrong?” You squeezed his hand once more as you tried to understand what was just about to happen to his face and why he screamed like that.

“Ignore that. It-it’s a long story and I’d rather not tell it now,” Itadori released your hand and stared at you dead in the eye. “How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?”

Your face caught fire. Your ears were burning and your stomach was doing front flips. You barely got to whisper anything before Yuuji’s palms grabbed your cheeks and he slammed his lips on yours. They were soft and warm and he kissed you so slowly that it had you melting in his arms. Your own lips parted to welcome him just as hungrily as your hands tugged at his hoodie to keep him close. He pulled back, eventually, and you smiled at each other in the surprise of what just happened. His forehead leaned on yours and the way you burst into laughter made Yuuji laugh too.

“I hope I didn’t ruin today…” he whispered, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs, but not parting from your figure yet.

“I can’t wait to see you again, boy,” you cooed, stealing another peck from him before you turned to enter the building.

You barely walked up the stairs with a grin splattered on your face and increased heart rate and once you entered your apartment, you slid down your door and laughed alone for a couple of minutes. That just happened and you were there and he was there and what’s gonna happen now? In the same way, Yuuji called himself an Uber and got inside with palms sweating and a happy frown on his face.

“Finally taking my advice. She was too cute to waste, man. If you didn’t take the chance, I would’ve.”

“Sukuna shut the hell up. I kissed her first.”

I just want to thank @half-baked-biscuit for writing this fanfic for me that I sent in as a commission. I really do appreciate her writing a black fem reader and her taking the time to write this amazing fluff with yuuji/sukuna. I love you bitch T^T. Also credit to the artist for the picture above @hinamie. This was an amazing design so I just had to use it! Please like, reblog, and comment :3

Heres the link to the original post of the artist: https://hinamie.tumblr.com/post/635380113076355072/th-designs-in-this-show-r-god-tier-thank-u-jjk

Taglist: @half-baked-biscuit @siriusimie @mangobxbbletea @corduroyrose

#jjk x reader #yuuji x reader #yuuji fluff #black fem reader #x black reader #jjk fanfic #commission

98 notes · View notes

trashytummiez · 3 years

Note

Misty from Call of Duty Zombies getting a bunch of those sodas that makes her fast. Only to have to chug them all in order to run past some zombies. Giving her some MAJOR burps in the process

“Ahhh shit burgers...” Misty said looking utterly dejected at what she was seeing.

There was a swarm of zombies staggering around in the cornfields. She knew that Marlton was on the other side in their car waiting for her and staying out of sight but she was so low on ammo that she wouldn’t be able to just blow through the rotten ghouls like usual. The country girl pouted with frustration and put a hand on her curvy hips thinking to herself.

“How the crap am I s’posed t’get through all these stumpchuckers with so few shells? Maybe I can get ‘em t’line up and just POW! Get like a three fer one deal maybe? Naw not enough shells, ah shit on a zombies tit, this is...like...pretty sucky...”

Misty tugged her truckers cap up and wiped some sweat from her forehead with her forearm and looked around in the cornfield for anything she could use. More guns or more ammo. Oh what she’d give for a mystery box right about now. Hey maybe she’d get lucky and kill one zombie that had a random kaboom in it to wipe all the other rotting monsters out. But she’d have to make too much noise to find out and if she wasn’t lucky she could end up zombie chow.

She didn’t find any guns anywhere but she did find a potential answer when she heard that familiar Speed Cola jingle playing near an old shed. There was a zombie clawing at it brainlessly but Misty beaned it over the head so hard with a plank of wood that its head exploded.

Gross. But it at least gave her a laugh.

There were too many zombies in the cornfield for Misty to outrun on her own. But with a little boost? She could clear the field in no time! So she gave up 3000 points and out rolled a green glowing bottle. But when Misty looked at the sheer size of the cornfield she needed to clear she realized maybe one bottle wouldn’t cut it. She had to play it smart. So Misty dumped another 3k into the machine and got herself a second bottle. And a third just in case.

She had to be fast about it. The boost would only be about thirty seconds once she was fully energized by it.

So Misty popped the cap off the bottle brought it to her lush lips and proceeded to chug that Speed Cola like her life depended on it. And because it actually did depend on it she chugged even faster. Her slender throat bobbed with her wet rhythmic gulping of the beverage. Misty squinted a little because Perk-a-Colas always had a funky taste to them but they didn’t have anything on the moon shine she could down with the best of ‘em.

In record time Misty completely chugged the green liquids down and chucked the empty glass bottle into the cornfield. Then Misty burped so loudly that every zombie in the cornfield could hear her eructation.

BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHP!!!!

Perk-a-Cola did tend to make her pretty gassy.

Misty shivered at the unwanted attention that rude sound gave her. “Brrr! FasterfasterfasterFASTER!!” She exclaimed jokingly.

The zombies hissed and growled when they started hobbling over to Misty. But she wasn’t deterred. In fact she popped the second bottle and started chugging it even with all those zombies closing in on her. Because of the speed perk coursing through her body though she was able to chug her second bottle even faster than the first! Misty’s throat throbbed so hard that she appeared as if she was moving in fast forward.

Even more speed was pumping through Misty’s body when she finished so that when she chucked the bottle at the closest zombie it got lodged right into the zombies skull re-killing it all over again.

Misty grabbed the last bottle feeling zapped up and hyper-energized when a weak burp popped out of her.

GwUurp!

Misty winced then grabbed her bare midriff with her other hand and released a massive burp.

BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOORRREEEEEEEHIIIIIP!!!!!!

Misty sighed and patted her stomach with relief then downed the last bottle with lightning speed.

By the time she finished chugging it the zombies were in range of her but her body was practically glowing with speed power.

Misty winced when her bare stomach gurgled really deeply. A zombie lunged at her but she ended up burping so powerfully that the zombie staggered back from the force. “Oooooh! I feel-urp-tingly...” Misty exclaimed shivering again.

Then she sprinted right through the zombies with such speed that any of the moldy foes in her way went flying off to the side like they were hit by a car. Misty shot through the cornfield like she was a human bullet with nothing able to stand in her way.

Marlton waited inside of the car for his partner nervously checking his broken watch out of instinct. “According to my calculations, she should’ve been here forever ago, is she okay?” The brilliant nerd wondered aloud but got his answer when a massive belch echoed from outside of the car.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRHP!!!!!

Marlton breathed a sigh of relief. Only one person he knew could burp like that.

He hopped out of the car and saw Misty huffing out of breath from her super-powered run. “What took you so long? I was worried for approximately-”

Misty held up a finger to cut him off still slumped over with her hands grasping at her thighs while she caught her breath. Then she released another monstrous belch and another one after that.

Marlton frowned. He knew Misty could let out some of the biggest burps he’d ever heard but she was never this burpy.

“You okay?”

Misty huffed and rubbed her belly with one gloved hand releasing another hearty burp in the process.

“Unnngh...Urp! Too many Speed Colas, Marl...UUUUUURRRRP!! Waaaaaay too many Speed Colas...HurUUUUUUUUUHP!!!!” Misty explained burping throughout her explanation.

“...You had more than one?!” Marlton almost shrieked.

“YEEEEEEEEEP!!!!” Misty ‘replied’.

Marlton facepalmed. “Okay, we can...worry about that later. For now, perhaps it would be in our best interests to flee from the undead cornfield?”

Misty brought a fist to her mouth and muffled a really big burp that made her cheeks puff with gas that rumbled in her mouth loudly for close to three seconds. She blew it to the side and fanned the air around her nostrils. “Ungh, ‘kay but maybe leave the windows rolled down...”

The two got in the car and Marlton immediately kicked it into high gear driving off on the dirt road and avoiding zombies as best he could. Misty reclined back in her chair a little rubbing her gurgling tummy with one hand while the other hovered over her mouth. She repeatedly belched behind her fist trying to stifle them as best as she could.

All that energized liquid swirling around in Misty’s stomach was giving her some serious indigestion. It would pass eventually but it was bubbling around in her tummy so much that Misty couldn’t stop burping the entire car ride.

Marlton hated how much he was loving every second of it but he wasn’t liking how much Misty cringed uncomfortably with the feeling she had. So he pulled over in what looked to be an abandoned parking lot. Then he unbuckled and told Misty to do the same and recline back some more.

“What’re ya doin’, Marl?” Misty asked just before muffling another big one.

“I’m going to administer physical stimulation in the hopes of quelling your gastric distress,” Marlton replied.

Misty blinked. “Could ya repeat that in normal people talk, man?”

Instead of repeating himself Marlton put his hands on Misty’s exposed stomach and started to rub his hands over it. The tomboy sighed heavily at the feeling almost going limp while Marlton rubbed her belly sensually.

“Ohhhh man, that feels better than swimmin’ naked in a pool’uh money,” Misty groaned.

“That...doesn’t sound physically possible,” Marlton exclaimed while he rubbed.

“Nerd,” she sniped.

He playfully slapped Misty’s belly in response which caused the southern girl to belch so hard that it felt like the whole car shook. She sighed with relief and he fought the urge to blush.

Marlton’s thumbs dug into her smooth freckled tummy pressing into it with one firm knead after another.

Doing so caused the bubbling gas in Misty’s stomach to push out with another heavy burp. Then another one right after that one.

AAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUURRRRAAAAAAAAHP!!!!!

BUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRREEEEEEEEEELHP!!!!!!

The more Marlton kneaded his hands against Misty’s belly the more the country girl belched like a big fat trucker. Each one felt like it made the car rattle. Until finally Marlton really pushed down on Misty’s belly, like right around her belly button that Misty released the biggest longest belch of the whole night.

GWUUUUUUUUUURRRRROOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRAAAAAAAAAUUUUUURRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAHP!!!!!!!!!!!!

It exploded from Misty’s lush lips for several seconds hitting a number of different syllables in the process.

When it was over Misty sighed heavily with relief and gave her stomach a few pats. “Goooooooooh...ssssoooooo unladylike...” she said almost proudly.

Marlton couldn’t help but blush intensely.

“What else is new...”

#kink fic #burping #burp kink #misty briarton #black ops zombies #stomachache #soda chug #belly rub #misty x marlton #call of duty #video game #tomboy

40 notes · View notes

wangxiandecoded · 4 years

Text

Episode 12

Previous Episode | Next Episode

(Spoilers for the whole show ahead!)

Even when Wen Chao asks for their swords, Wei Ying is trying desperately to make Lan Zhan look him in the eye to telepathically understand what his soulmate is feeling. Lan Zhan hates it but he has no choice but to cooperate with the enemy. He has withdrawn to himself after the multiple losses he’s faced and being a puppet at the hands of the Wens must be rattling him some more. Even if he wanted to tell Wei Ying everything that’s on his mind, he wouldn’t have been able to find the words to.

Lucky for him, Wei Ying has an inkling that his Lan Zhan has faced an inexplicable disaster and that’s why he’s behaving this way with him. He knows it doesn’t mean he should stop reaching out. His concern for him leads him to repeatedly seek Lan Zhan’s face, looking for anything that might suggest how he can alleviate his plight.

One of the perks of having Wei Wuxian as your boyfriend is that he was born ready to make a clown out of the most dastardly villains.

Wei Ying Says “Fuck You” In The Name Of Love

Wei Ying has a brilliant idea to talk to Lan Zhan or at least let him know he is not alone.

There is something powerfully impressive and quietly romantic about Wei Ying insulting the Wen clan by reciting the Lan clan’s rules to Wen Chao’s face, on the heels of the former decimating and annexing the latter. Of course Wei Ying is the first one in a room to stand up to a bully and protect the others but Wei Ying knows Lan Zhan’s hands are tied right now, even if he doesn’t know what exactly happened. But that’s okay, because Wei Ying will defend his honor and become Lan Zhan’s hands, his mouth, his everything that delivers the unmistakable “fuck you” on behalf of his family. And he does it in an act of rebellion that originates in the sanctum of love. Understandably, Lan Zhan falls more in love with him.

Wei Ying’s Plan Misfires

His happiness is short-lived, but honestly who could predict his plan would go like this?

We see that Lan Zhan does want to confide in his soulmate the pain and pressure he’s been dealing with alone the whole time, but it’s too dangerous for them to talk right now.

Wen Chao carries the same kind of smugness as a prick who’s been waiting to out a gay couple. I mean how awful do you have to be to physically abuse Wangxian for.. being Wangxian? Blatant homophobia right there.

Wei Ying has had enough of Wen Chao’s bullshit and is unafraid to clap back with his signature cheekiness.

When Wei Ying is captured, Lan Zhan blocks the whip coming his way and ends up taking a hit to his injured leg. Wei Ying then wants Wen Chao to come for him instead of Lan Zhan, and we can honestly expect nothing less from Wangxian at this point.

Lan Zhan conquers his silent grieving and mute seething to stand in defiance against Wen Chao. It is worth mentioning that his patience and tolerance can even bear the brunt of a fallen world, but cease to exist the second someone mistreats Wei Ying before his eyes. You know what they say about love being a vicious motivator. His protective stance here screams..

Lan Zhan Holds On To Wei Ying For A Short Span Of Eternity

Wen Chao sure is very curious about the nature of their relationship and unable to fathom what Wei Ying could possibly want with Lan Zhan. He’s already safe and sound with him in Qishan, so if they’re not talking about the Yin Iron, what the hell is it? This inquisition is a bit ridiculous, as if the writer specifically gave him these lines to point out to the audience that Wangxian are being soulmates in love once again.

What Lan Zhan does not say, he makes up for with the million times he reaches for Wei Ying instinctively; spontaneous skinship is one of the ways through which his love for Wei Ying finds expression. It is phenomenal that He Who Does Not Touch People firmly holds on to his lover through this whole monologue that follows.

There are few things in the world that can inspire Lan Zhan’s wrath and protection right now, and Wei Ying commands both so effortlessly. Defeated as he is, for Wei Ying, Lan Zhan is always a man of action. And this action particularly proves his willingness to send packing to hell whoever dares to come close to his lover. I wonder what would’ve happened if Wei Ying hadn’t gone to the dungeon on his own volition.

Wangxian Are Once Again Ready To Risk It All For Each Other

It would’ve been nice to see them get their alone time, but what’s one more complication on the path of true love, right?

If you thought about it, Wangxian’s universe truly conspires to bring them together sometimes. Wen Ning tells Wei Ying everything Lan Zhan wasn’t able to, and Wen Qing does everything in her power to ensure they’re both out of harm’s way. Even when our heroes aren’t able to spend time together, they are being assisted by outside forces that work to ensure their love has a future. There are always people left in the world who are rooting for Wangxian because they’re the good gays guys!

We are well aware of how deeply and madly Wei Ying loves Lan Zhan, but it is startling all the same that even when he is in physical agony, what infuriates him to the point of madness is the news of Lan Zhan being hurt and his home being burnt down. Wei Ying is also more than willing to endure his pain a while longer if it means Lan Zhan has a shot at getting better.

Wangxian at any given point of time are ready to sacrifice themselves for the other and wage a war against the entire world for wronging the love of their life. That’s what makes these soulmates more unique than most, if not all lovers in fiction. Throughout the story, their romance is subjected to a billion tests and every choice they make is bound to make the viewers cry and highlight the unfairness of the impossible stakes they go through to be with each other. This is no ordinary romance, and that’s why it is all the more fantastic they are able to survive these unthinkable odds and come out shining in the end.

Lan Zhan’s concern and affection for Wei Ying is so open that it bleeds all over our screens. It’s like he looks at the rest of the world with aloof objectivity but the minute his lover comes into his sight, his eyes can bloom only warmth and emotion. Even the vision that touches Wei Ying from afar should be gentle and reverent, fit for holding in sight something precious beyond measure. This can be said about the both of them.

It is when NHS mentions their halcyon days at Cloud Recesses that we realize how their lives have changed irreversibly. Both Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are visibly sadder, like they’re wishing to return to simpler times when courting Lan Zhan was the biggest problem in Wei Ying’s life and fighting his feelings for Wei Ying was Lan Zhan’s. They’ve grown closer since then but the impediments on their road have also grown bigger.

Wei Ying Asks Jiang Cheng To Stay Out Of His Love Life

Lan Zhan keeps walking like #conceal don’t feel but the sad version of WuJi reveals all.

Wei Ying has been growing tired of Jiang Cheng trying to dictate what he should and should not feel or do about things that do not concern him and he rightfully puts him in his place in this scene. Jiang Cheng tells Wei Ying to not choose “someone else” as “we” already have a lot to deal with. He implies Wei Ying shouldn’t help Lan Zhan because he isn’t family and is clearly underplaying his injury despite Wei Ying emphasising its urgency. And Wei Ying is so done with putting up with that kind of negative energy in his love life.

He is quick to silence anyone who thinks they can hold him back from his heart or overstep the boundaries of his relationship with Lan Zhan. And his logic is very sound, for who on earth is capable of stopping Wei Ying from helping him? Not even Lan Zhan!

Wei Ying breaks free of Jiang Cheng's grip and leaves in Lan Zhan's direction after patronizingly patting his arm. And that is his answer. To him, Lan Zhan isn’t just another person and there is certainly no choice he has to make when it comes to him. It will always be Lan Zhan who is his foremost priority and the rest of the world has to simply get used to being left behind.

We see that he knows Lan Zhan would never ask for help but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it. His soulmate will hence always offer it, and if rejected, simply throw him on his back and continue while Lan Zhan informs him once again of how “boring” it is. He doesn’t get to do that, but his sentiment is romantic enough to stay in Lan Zhan’s memory for sixteen years and become an action he boldly reciprocates when Wei Ying comes back.

Wangxian’s Love Story is Truly “Epic”

Episodes 11 and 12 trace the beginnings of the turmoil that will forge Wangxian’s path (and make us weep). Every romance starts from the idyllic state of undisturbed happiness but it seldom remains there through the whole story. And let’s be honest, calamities bring emotional depth and complexity to a plot, exposing that our favorite characters are human, flawed and a lot closer to reality than we imagined. Both the heroes stay loyal to their core values, with the conviction to be fearless in the face of unforeseen adversities in life and love.

And we hope like the hopeless romantics who are in love with the greatest love story ever told, that maybe all the tragedies that are about to befall Wei Ying and Lan Zhan won’t matter one day because their happy ending will heal all wounds. Obstacles will continue to strew our heroes apart and push them towards the other on a loop, but Wangxian are like magnets destined to snap back together. They will ascend beyond the stratosphere of romance, straight to the heavens, because their love’s greatest virtue is that they have each other and know each other more than any two people ever did in all of history. They are devoted to the other unconditionally in soul, mind and body.

It’s just that our idiot-soulmates take the long way round to realize that their own joint force is capable of annihilating and birthing entire universes, and nothing that ever dared to stand on their path ever stood a chance. And when they do realize that their love is an infinite, impossible force that can bend the laws of nature and be a harbinger of greatness to a world that is doomed to fail, their story is exalted to an epic that doubles as a romance, effectively displacing all the bland, straight examples of love that have infiltrated our past and perpetuated heteronormativity. Because it boasts a love that all of humankind should vie to fashion their lives after and is a true sight to behold - a sight we will rewatch for as long as we live, and bequeath to posterity so they can grow up looking up to Wangxian. Because their love story is the big budget live action fantasy that queer people have been deprived of for so long and is now here to tell us : You should dare to love because it will become your greatest strength. Just like it became Wei Ying and Lan Zhan’s.

271 notes · View notes

zenosanalytic · 3 years

Text

Growing Up is Hard; It’s Hard and Nobody Understands

So I noticed netflix has Neon Genesis Evangelion up last week and started watching it front to back for the first time ever(this happens to have coincided with me being in a down-mood for your edification, dear readers u_u), finished it today, REALLY liked it, and I wanted to try my hand at explaining what the hell is even going on in NGE cuz it actl seemed super-clear to me(a person who has been consuming NGE analysis and post-NGE media for literally 25 years) u_u

Surface Plot; Or NERV: What the Hell Is It?

I’ll try to make this as brief as possible: An organization of super-wealthy individuals calling itself Seele(looking this up, it means soul in german) wants to possess the power of God. The final third or so of the series is clear on this; it’s all about power. Ikari Yui, a geneticist, is recruited by this organization, and her husband Gendo(having taken her name which says a LOT given typical Japanese practice) comes with her. In seeking out this power, they discover a hollow sphere underneath Antarctica(”The White Moon”), send an expedition there under the guise of the UN, encounter an entity with this power which they label an “Angel”, and do SOMETHING which prompts it to explode the continent flooding the earth and killing half the population(that Gendo left beforehand implies this may have been intentional, or that a bad outcome to Seele’s approach was easy to predict, tho in typical Gendo fashion, his is the only ass he cared to save).

Afterwards Seele blame the scientists for this outcome and send Gendo on a salvage mission which recovers both remains of the Angel, now dubbed “Adam”, and a device they dub “the spear of Longinus”. Seele creates Gehirn to study these remains for practical use; they clone “Adam” and dub the result Evas(Eves). Having cloned them, they now need a way to use and control them as the Evas are non-responsive. They hit on the idea of injecting people into them via the Entry Plug system, presumably to act as a brain. The first person to try this, Ikari Yui, was absorbed by the Eva(Unit 01); the second(Soryu Kyoko Zeppelin; Asuka’s mother) was partially psychologically absorbed by Unit 02, psychologically and mentally injured by this, institutionalized, abandoned by her shit USian husband Langley who remarried to her LEAD DOCTOR, and eventual kills herself in a hanging which Asuka either is the first to discover or, given her memories of promising to die with her/begging her not to do it, was present for. An important thing to note about this: Shinji and Asuka’s ability to sync with their Evas comes from the fact that their mothers are PART of their Eva’s identity, and all of their classmates are potential pilot-candidates. The implication here is that Seele KNEW this happened when you put adults into an Angel, and they KEPT DOING IT ANYWAY to create more pilots, but there’s no confirmation of that in series.

After the attempt at human adult control fails, Gendo combines Yui’s DNA with Adam’s and creates Rei. At the same time he is doing this another team, under Akagi Naoko, is developing Magi, a biomechanical computer for simulating the human mind(again: certain implication to this re: Evas though the series never says anything). Naoko is romantically interested in Gendo, and they start getting together(Gendo’s too much of an asshole to be said to date, I think). After Rei, a toddler, tells her Gendo calls her an “old woman” in private, not realizing this is insulting, Naoko kills her, then kills herself out of shame over having MURDERED A CHILD, and Gehirn is folded into a new organization, NERV, which Gendo is put in charge of. Rei forms the basis of the second attempt at controlling the Evas; child-pilots.

How they use Rei for this I’m not exactly sure. It could be because Rei is cloned from Yui(she easily syncs with Unit 01 before Shinji bonds with it completely), or because she’s part Angel via her Adam element(Kaworu says Angels merge with one another easily and naturally), or it could be they did something with Rei I’s corpse and Unit 00(I dont see how as it seems to require a LIVE pilot). Regardless, she is raised to be the pilot for 00, the prototype. MUCH later, when the rest of the Angels finally decide to come looking for Adam, Shinji is called in, and after his success Asuka(who like Rei and unlike Shinji has been training to pilot her whole life) is called to Nerv headquarters(under Japan, in the “Black Moon”; a second spherical hollow where they found another Angel they call Lilith) too.

Regardless the child-pilots are only a step in Nerv and Seele’s plans, as Rei is ALSO the template for the Dummy Plug system, the final step in complete control of Eva units. To put it simply, the Dummy Plugs are Rei-clones without her personality or memories, and will just do whatever the heck they’re ordered to. At least once during the series(and I’d argue two, possibly three times) Rei dies and is replaced by one of these clones through some process, which involves what looks like a pre 00 Eva’s spine and probably a Magi-like backup, which transfers her personality and memories into the new body.

So what is Nerv? Well it’s hard to say EXACTLY because Gendo is in some sort of conflict with Seele(and I want to keep my watches of End of Evangelion out of this post; to focus entirely on JUST NGE itself) and Nerv IS Gendo, but as the series states repeatedly it’s an attempt to control the future of humanity by controlling what they call “the power of god” which, given that it’s what most distinguishes the “Angels”, is the AT, or “Absolute Terror”, Field. What is the AT Field? It’s a field that can make or unmake any kind of matter or energy from basically nothing, and it also seems to have a strong tie to what you could call the Ego; to desires and sense-of-self. An AT Field gets stronger when the person generating it is experiencing powerful emotions; Confidence, sure, but also Fear, Abandonment, the Will to Live, and Anger.

That last bit is very important. Why? Strong AT Field effects require a powerful emotional motivation in the pilot combined with high sync-rates with the Eva(basically a lobotomized Angel-clone) generating the Field. The three pilots we meet, the Strongest candidates, are all exceedingly traumatized people, and Gendo is the direct cause of the trauma of two of them. At no point in the series is Gendo ever a good father to Shinji, he is CONSTANTLY unreasonable, neglectful, and cruel to him; he’s kinder to Rei but at the same time her loneliness, the state of her “home”, and her lack of self worth shows that he rarely interacts with her outside of missions or explains what’s going on beyond bald facts; and he COMPLETELY ignores Asuka, a deeply lonely child with a history of abandonment and close brushes with death; he even delegates bumping her from the program. This point is important because it’s important to recognize that Gendo is a bad dad on PURPOSE; that he instrumentalizes his bad dadness to traumatize Shinji(and Rei and Asuka, though sadly the series doesn’t focus on them enough for us to see much) as much as he can, because he thinks that trauma, that emotional instability and anger, MAKES SHINJI A MORE USEFUL PILOT; ie lets him generate more powerful AT Fields. This is never said clearly, but it’s clearly what’s going on as forcing Unit 01(and thus Shinji) into awful, heartbreaking, life-threatening situations is vital to his plan. Gendo’s a piece of shit, and I want ppl to recognize just HOW BIG a piece of shit he is, because I feel this powerfully.

And for what? For Power. To be “God”. To get the highest numbers. To generate the MOST Invincible Invincibility Shield. For Ridiculous, Absurd, Childish reasons. For, you know, the same reasons rich and powerful people do all the fucked up shit they do in the real world where giant magic robots thankfully DONT exist.

And how do they plan to do this? Through “Human Instrumentation”, which will literally kill everyone by turning them all into goo.

Metaplot; Or “SHINJI! Don’t Get in that Robot!!”

So, maybe this is just because(as said previously) I’ve been reading NGE Analysis and consuming media which NGE heavily inspired for ~25 years, but I think it’s old hat at this point to note that Neon Genesis Evangelion is ALSO an allegory for becoming an adult, centered on Shinji. However, it’s just really SO on the nose in this, so PERFECT as such a narrative, that I want to run through it real quick. Also: A Cruel Angel’s Thesis is basically a thesis-statement for this series; please check out the lyrics.

So Shinji is living under the guardianship of a teacher(yup: this series even takes a swing at how our society uses schools to warehouse kids so their parents can waste their lives producing “Value” instead of raising them), when the shitty dad that abandoned him decides he has a use for him after all and calls him up.

On meeting with a child he has not seen SINCE HE WAS A TODDLER LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM ON THE STREET WHEN HIS MOTHER DIED he immediately ambushes him with the command that he get in a huge body(that he grow up) to do what? Whatever Gendo tells him to, but specifically: commit acts of violence for Gendo and Seele’s profit. He tells him this will protect people; meanwhile doing it destroys those peoples’ literal homes. The rest of the series is a series of monotonous, incomprehensible “Tests” judging his, and his peers, worthiness for approval and affection on the basis of how well they can use those giant bodies to do what Gendo tells them(so: capitalist work), punctuated by unpredictable, brutal, traumatizing, and physically dangerous events(so: capitalist work). Every friend, and the one lover, he meets, he is placed in unnecessary, destructive competition with and, when they are male, forced to attack and(in the case of the one lover, Kaworu) kill them; this last comment on homophobia is so stark and obvs I don’t even feel like you can CALL it subtext, even IF it plays out over mostly a single episode(honestly this plotline should have been given more time). And all the time they’re doing this, they must ALSO continue going to school and maintaining the front that they’re happy smiley Heroes, completely normal and not traumatized at all, and Nerv and the government that lets them run this city is a great and wonderful organization. Is this not what becoming an adult, over your teens and 20s, feels like?

And then there’s Seele and Nerv. Able to move state governments as they wish, Seele CAUSED Second Impact(Global Warming). By not returning Adam’s remains, they’re CAUSING the Angel attacks on Nerv meant to retrieve them(the threat of Human extinction). The Angels eventually begin trying to communicate and Nerv’s response? Destroy them before they can; blow up the Evas(and their pilots) if they succeed. And to top it all off Seele and Nerv are actually trying to CAUSE the very extinction(Third Impact) they claim to be preventing! Seele and Nerv are just SUCH good metaphors for capitalism in our modern day.

The transwoman reading of Shinji also seems pretty dang strong to me, though I’ll only deal with it shallowly. Shinji is the only “male” of all the pilots. Outside of command and security, most Nerv staff are women. Being an Eva pilot, being Nerv staff, is marked as “feminine”, and Shinji is an Eva pilot; is a Nerv staffer. The body he gets into, Unit 01, acts as a metaphor for the large, imposing, masculine body he’s expected to have as an adult “man”, yet it’s also spiritually his mom -feminine- and his ability to use it is tied DIRECTLY with his ability to “Sync” with that spirit; with his ease and comfort being feminine. Even at the level of mere aesthetics, Shinji’s plugsuit makes him appear to have breasts! Going a bit deeper, he initially relates to the women around him by relating to their gender. He’s most at ease with Rei because of the personality traits she shares with him which, we know from his gender-policing of Misato from earlier in the series, are traits he considers feminine(ie: he doesn’t feel like Misato has them, so he thinks she’s being a woman “wrong” and gets oddly offended by this in a way that really feels more about him than her). Asuka is constantly expressing her frustration with him for not “being a man”, ie, for being “feminine” in her eyes, and he isn’t really bothered by it(her calling him an idiot seems to stick much more firmly). Misato and Shinji establish a modus vevendi when she accepts him as he is, allowing him to do the household chores and to cook; he’s comfortable and happy when accepted into roles his culture considers feminine, while most of the series is him bucking AGAINST the masculinity forced on him by Nerv, his father, and others. Again: this is a very surface-level engagement with the subject, but even at that shallow level I feel like the case for reading Shinji as a transwoman is pretty solid.

Dislikes

It’s not a perfect series by any means of course.

There’s allot of dialogue that’s pure 90s nonsense, though the series mostly includes it only to shoot it down.

Like I said above, I don’t think Rei and Asuka really get the time or attention they deserve. In general the series treatment of women is ...Weird... especially around the issue of sex. It’s really strange; in many ways it’s far better than most anime(spcl from that period) on this. Women are ACTUAL PEOPLE with psychology, opinions, and pasts; they’re allowed to have emotions of their own, and struggles, and to be damn competent; they are independent and their own selves rather than accessories or “prizes” to men. But on the issue of feminine sexuality it just gets suddenly so weird in this very particular old-school misogynist way. Like: it treats women’s attraction and reactions TO relationships as something devoid of and impenetrable to reason, without belittling the emotions(the desire and hurt) behind those reactions. That’s the only way I can describe it, and it’s so strange to see something that is both so insulting and sympathetic at once. Oh, and the Akagis in particular are done super-dirty for seemingly no reason I can see, tho I can guess, and Akagi Ritsuki is CLEARLY a lesbian(possibly bi lesbian) and also Rose Lalonde(srsl; her Deal should have been an unrequited, unspoken crush on Misato. They openly dealt with queerness re: Kaworu and Shinji they could have done it here too).

The Kaworu storyline should have been a series of episodes or even developed from the start with him as another pilot(maybe replace Toji with him), though they’d have to tone down his weirdness, at least at the start. A deeper dive on Shinji’s sexuality(honestly his attraction to Kaworu is SO much more immediate and believable than anything we see with him and Asuka, which there is basically nothing of beyond the ep where they had to do choreography for a fight, and that’s not developed on) would have really been appreciated, and having Kaworu be a bigger part of the series would have facilitated that.

Also honestly the whole series feels a bit rushed? Spcl the second half. Like I said: I haven’t done any followup reading lately, but I remember there being some budget problems or something, so maybe that’s the cause. Ironically it might actl also be why it’s as GOOD as it is; having to keep it short forces you to write concise and lean, and that’s probably why its themes and message are so clear. But, I’d have liked more rambling for character development, and more time spent on seeing Rei and Asuka react to the stresses we saw Shinji face(also they never really get moments to shine like he does; another negative common to the medium and genre). Asuka in particular, as a Japanese German with a USian temperament abandoned by her parents, already an outsider in SO many ways, coming to live in an entirely different culture where she’s even MORE of an outsider; forced to live with people(Misato and Shinji) she finds it impossible to relate to or connect with; who has literally NO ONE beside a single adult guardian who totally blows her off THE WHOLE SERIES after delivering her; PLUS her awful past: there’s just SO MUCH material I’d have loved to see explored more slowly and with greater depth, detail, and sympathy even if what IS there already is pretty powerful and effecting. She’s SUCH a good Vriska(so I’d also have loved to see her break more shit too >:>)

Conclusion

So Anyway: I really liked this series. It had its problems, there are things I’d have liked to see, but it absolutely deserves the reputation it has. I might write more about this, I might do a watch through INCLUDING End of Evangelion(which actl makes much more sense having watched the series, though having done so makes Shinji’s masturbation scene comPLETELY out of left-field like where the hell did THAT come from); we’ll see.

#Neon Genesis Evangelion #The Dreaded Animes #zA Reviews #zA Opinions

23 notes · View notes

rwbyvein · 3 years

Text

Firen Lhain: Chapter 706: The Great Beasts: Part II/III

Jaune lead the party. Blake was off to his right flank, Ren to his left. The rest of the group were together, behind.

* * *

Jaune felt something, and looked over to see Ren beside him. He followed his smiling gaze. Ren disappeared a moment later. Jaune slowed down as he stepped forward and saw the giant footprint. He stopped and looked behind him. Jaune's gaze fixed on Weiss. Weiss smiled but did not understand what he wanted until Ruby pushed her forward. "He needs your Weissiness." Ruby said. Weiss' first thought was to give Jaune an offended look, but she breathed in deep and told herself to accept it as a compliment. She straightened her hair and then her dress before stepping forward.

"Got to look your best." Yang chided, and Weiss glared at her.

"Would she really be Weiss?," Nora asked, "if she didn't look her best? It's like her Semblance or something."

Weiss stopped midstride as the thought deeply weighed upon her psyche.

"Weiss Queen?" Yang asked her. Weiss looked over to see Yang pushing her hands forward. Weiss turned back to walk towards Jaune. She found a way to sashay in the woods and made her way up to Jaune. He was looking at the footprint, and turned. Before Weiss knew what was going on, he picked her up, craddled her, and gave her a passionate kiss. When he put her down she could barely stand. She heard a click, and turned around to see Yang and Nora pointing their cameras.

"Must you?.." Weiss admonished. She tried to frown but found herself smiling. She crossed her hands in front of her and turned towards the footprint. She then looked back to Jaune. "Not that I'm objecting, but why?"

Jaune pointed at the footprint, "You're Professor Port's star student."

Weiss thought it over for a moment before it occurred to her. It hit her so powerfully that she nearly lost her footing. Thankfully Jaune wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her. She heard significant movement behind her and turned to see the others rushing in. She stood up properly, bowed her head to Jaune, and turned to them, bowing. "I apologize."

"What's wrong?!" Ruby asked.

"What is wrong is that I am suddenly confronted with who I used to be." Weiss sadly stated.

"Huh?" Ruby asked.

Ren appeared in front of her, "Well that embarrassment, that desire to go back and tell yourself not to be so stupid, that just proves you're not the same person you used to be. You're smarter, you're kinder, you're stronger, and you're not done growing yet. None of us are."

"I swear I've heard that before." Jaune stated.

"Indeed." Ren said with a smile.

"From you." Jaune said accusingly.

"Indeed." Ren said with a brighter smile. "Some things need to be learned more than once."

Blake appeared beside them, "They say you learn things once for a day, twice for a week, and three times for the rest of your life."

"Which means," Ren continued, "after the third time there's going to be a test."

"What?!" Yang asked, "You can't do that, right? Can he?"

Ren turned to smile at her before turning back to the footprint.

"Ren is like really wise, so?," Nora asked, "mmaayybbee?"

"You can study for it later." Jaune dismissively uttered, waving his hand over his shoulder. "Snow Angel?" he asked, and she swooned. He turned towards her as she collected herself, "Do these look like the footprints of any large Grimm you know about?"

Weiss made to kneel down, but paused, and decided to adopt a less elegant squat instead. She lowered herself down and closely inspected the footprint. She then stood back up. "I can't make heads or tails of it. It has some passing similarities to a Boarbatusk, but I've never seen any of this size."

"So, giant armoured boar?" Yang asked.

"The feet are too pointed to be a boar." Jaune stated, "It honestly looks more like a giant deer."

"So, a deer Grimm?!" Nora asked.

Jaune then turned to the group, "Does anyone know about a deer Grimm?" he asked, but as he looked between everyone present, no one showed any recognition. "Alright," Jaune said, "we know how to fight Boarbatusks." Ilia looked confused. "Maybe Blake can talk to Ilia about it." He made to turn away, but paused halfway and turned back, looking Ilia in the eyes, "And remember, you're not a Huntsman. We want you to learn, not die. If you move in, only do so when you see an opening, and move back out again." He turned back to the tracks. He turned back to everyone. "Everyone get a good look."

"Even me?!" Nora asked.

"If you launch yourself," Jaune stated, "it might scare off what we're chasing."

"Which is what?" Yang asked.

"Something big with hooves." Jaune stated.

"Uh-huh." Yang sarcastically said, "Real helpful."

"Whatever it is," Ruby added, "we'll be able to defeat it! With the power of friendship!"

Weiss developed a sour look that sweetened with every moment until she found herself smiling.

"And punching." Yang stated.

"And punching!" Ruby exclaimed.

* * *

The party followed the hoofprints, up, and down, and around through the woods, until they saw movement. Large, black movement off in the black woods. Jaune turned back to everyone, "Keep your distance until we know what we're fighting."

"Or," Yang said, "we just wait for you to start the thing, since you want to be big daddy about this, and all."

"I concur." Ren stated.

"Even the big daddy part?" Yang asked.

"He is fatherly." Ren stated. "Though calling him daddy might be a bit much."

"Let's just spread out and keep quiet," Jaune said, "until we find out what we're up against."

"Yes, Daddy." Yang stated.

Weiss glared at Yang for a moment before looking at Jaune, "And, for those of us, who, perchance, are not so good at stealth?"

"Just hang back until you hear Dustfire or something." Jaune stated.

"Or Yang getting Yangry." Nora added.

"Duly noted." Weiss stated. Nora still looked eagerly forward. "You do realize you are one of them, do you not?"

"What?" Nora asked.

"She's right." Jaune stated.

"Yes, Daddy." Nora stated, and Jaune glared at her.

"I thought you were my minion?" Jaune asked.

"That would make you her master." Ren quipped, and Jaune looked shocked.

"Master?!" Nora eagerly exclaimed, and Jaune just sighed.

"We'll have to work on that, later."

* * *

Blake, Ren, and Ilia all creapt forward, keeping their profiles as low as possible. Jaune simply walked through the heavier brush. As they approached, they saw a ridiculous set of antlers, at least 12 points. They approached even more and it was a colossal black buck of some sort. Suddenly it turned towards them, and they all stopped in their tracks. Even more startlingly it had a black head. It didn't have the Grimm mask you would normally find, but it's eyes glowed blue-green in the dark of the forest.

"I know you are there!" it's great, deep voice bellowed, "Come and present yourself!" No one was sure of what to do, except Jaune, who walked forward out of the brush and up to the great beast. "You are at home in the woods. State you name."

"Jaune." he said, "Jaune Arc." Giggling could be barely heard from behind him, back in the woods. "And you are?"

"I am the Black Hart." the great beast bellowed, "King of the woods."

"We?," Jaune asked, and paused for a moment, "heard howling?"

"Why would it be strange?," the Black Hart asked, "for a king to be given tribute?"

"The howl?" Jaune asked.

"All give what they can." the Black Hart stated, "The wolf his howl, the bird his song, the tree her fruit."

"What... are you?" Jaune asked.

"I could ask you the same question." the Black Hart stated, "You are half man, half beast. I decided to simply watch you in my dominion, and what you did was come to me."

"We are called Faunus." Jaune stated.

"Who created you?" the Black Hart asked.

"We don't know." Jaune replied.

"How could you not know your own creators?!" the Black Hart asked.

"If I might ask?," Ren asked as he approached, "but who created you?"

"The Brother of Light, of course." the Black Hart stated, "Before his brother created the Grimm, and before our father lost interest in us to create Humans. But you are not Human, nor are you beast. I do not know what to make of you."

"While not exactly Human..." Jaune stated.

"We do not think of ourselves as all that different." Ren finished for him.

"If you were Human I would banish you from my woods." the Black Hart stated. "They carry the same power of destruction as the Creatures of Grimm."

"We were worried you might be Grimm." Jaune stated.

"And now that you know we are not?" the Black Hart asked.

"We assure you," Ren stated, "that we mean no harm to you or your wood."

"We ask to be allowed safe passage," Jaune stated, "the right of hunting and forage, and the right to sustainable forestry."

"YOU WISH TO CUT DOWN MY WOODS?!"

"Trees, yes," Jaune stated, "but not your woods."

"And what, dear halfling, is that?" the Black Hart asked.

"To take a section of the woods, cut down the trees, and let it regrow."

"The woods are always replenishing..." the Black Hart stated. "In light of your nature as beasts, I will give you the chance to prove your case. But, if I find my woods diminishing, your rights as beasts will be suspended. But, as beasts, you must also pay me tribute."

"I am afraid we have not much to give to one such as you." Ren stated.

"We are Huntsmen." Jaune said to him, and then turned to the Black Hart, "You can call us, and we will hunt Grimm in your woods."

"The Grimm rarely approach," the Black Hart grumbled, "but when they do, I will call."

"We ask that you grant us lordship over the woods," Ren stated, and the Black Hart glared at him, "In doing so, we could keep other people away."

"And what form would this take?" the Black Hart ask.

"Well," Jaune said, "for it to work with the Human kingdoms, it would have to be a Letters-Patent."

The Black Hart thought for a moment and then stamped his hoof. A letter appeared in Jaune's hand. It had cursive black ink with golden filligree.

"I, Black Hart, King of the Woods, hereby grant Title-Patent of Earl to Jaune Arc. He is to be granted sole right to the woods known as the Woods of the Beast, along with the Tower that so overlooks, though this right can be revoked at my displeasure." Jaune finished reading the letter and looked up solemnly. He then glared at Ren who simply smiled in reply.

* * *

Jaune and Ren walked back to Ruby, Weiss, Yang, and Nora.

"So?!" Nora asked.

"He made me an Earl." Jaune non-commitally said.

"Wait, what?" Yang asked.

"My thoughts, precisely." Weiss quipped.

"We should talk about it at home." Jaune said, and then looked at Ruby and Weiss, "Could you two head back to the glade and call Taj?"

"Why us?" Ruby asked.

"Perhaps our alacrity." Weiss stated.

"Okay, well, then why not Nora?" Ruby asked.

"Because I have some hope in restraining you." Weiss added.

"How?" Ruby curiously asked.

"But offering you a kiss."

"Okay, yeah, that would probably work." Ruby said. "When was that?" Ruby asked.

"When we arrived." Weiss replied.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

18 notes · View notes

bosspigeon · 3 years

Note

(hope the blood letting goes well :( ) nate/adam prompts??? lips chapped from the cold // warming the other's hands (or lips, 'cause, i mean)

in the dark, i can hear your heartbeat

Pairing: Adam du Mortain/Nate Sewell Word Count: 2603 Summary: Being sidelined during a mission isn’t too bad, if you ask Nate. Gives him plenty of time to ogle his commander. And maybe, if he’s very lucky, he’ll get to do a bit more than just ogle.

THIS PROMPT REALLY GOT AWAY FROM ME, HUH? Sorry it’s taken me so long to post it, I was just possessed by the spirit of Nate’s Intense Emotional Horniness. Title from “Cosmic Love” by Florence and the Machine~

Mild CW for some intense kissin’ and a bit of fondling, as well as some adult humor, but it doesn’t actually dip into anything too risque. Not for lack of trying on Nate’s part tho 👀

Watching Adam has become something of a self-soothing ritual for Nate over the centuries, even when it hurt him to do so. There was an odd sort of comfort in watching, in tracing the familiar paths of his silent, shackled longing with heavy eyes and quiet avarice. Then, he had to be careful not to overdo it, to make it obvious, however desperate he was to memorize every inch of his commanding agent, as if every moment with him would be the last. Adam’s eyes are sharp, his awareness of himself and how people observe him sometimes bordering on paranoia (though he would gut himself before admitting such weakness) and Nate learned to watch him when he was otherwise occupied, honed in with an intense, single-minded focus on whatever task the Agency had for them.

It became easier, over time, for him to contain the hunger of his gaze, to pick and choose the correct time to indulge himself in admiring the man who gradually became more than simply his superior, but his friend. Nate learned to play it off well when he was caught, to corral his racing heart like an errant beast, and he fervently thanked whatever power would listen to a lost creature like him that Adam’s interpersonal skills were not nearly so sharp as his observational ones. There was guilt, of course. A dark twist of shame that took far too long to shake, the niggling idea that there was something wicked about wanting the way he did, but Adam drew his gaze relentlessly from the very first moment they met. Nate was bedraggled, exhausted in a way beyond the physical, and no longer human, but meeting this steadfast, powerful, beautiful man lit a fire in his belly that warmed him, and even dulled the gnawing there, in a way he could never hope to explain.

He smiles to himself under the cover over darkness as he watches now, flushed with the knowledge that he does not have to hide it anymore.

Adam, body vibrating with restless tension as he watches the shadows, stiffens further when the weight of Nate’s gaze finally breaks through his focus. His spine somehow manages to straighten even further, and Nate’s smile widens, curling with mischief.

“What?” his commander hisses, breath fogging in the chilly gloom. The streets are quiet, and though this area is mostly condemned warehouses and abandoned factories, they lurk in the shadows and avoid the sparse yellow streetlights.

Nate’s smile does not falter, and he simply raises his brows. “Pardon?” he asks innocently.

Adam’s eyes narrow at him. “You are staring. Why?”

And, oh, he really can’t help himself, not when he is still all aflutter with the intoxicating freedom of having what he’s yearned for so long the ache had almost become a part of him. “You look quite striking in this light, is all,” he says. His gaze traces, unbidden, along the strong angle of Adam’s jaw, the proud curve of his nose, the breadth of his shoulders that strain enticingly against his coat, and when it finally drags itself back to his eyes, they are wide and startled. “What? Am I not allowed to admire you?” he teases, daring to slink closer.

“We… we are on a mission,” Adam protests, but his voice lacks the sharp edge of reproach it usually does when he is, say, chiding Mason or Felix.

“Chase, Mason, and Felix are on a mission,” Nate corrects gently, still smiling. “We are keeping watch until they return.”

Adam’s mouth twists, clearly sour about the reminder that they’ve been sidelined. Unfortunately, the mission is one that requires speed and subtlety, and the fewer of them to get in the way, the better. Chase was a rather last-minute addition— one that Adam did not approve of at first—until it was pointed out that his particular talents would be useful getting into the trapper hideout undetected. He even proved his skills by breaking into their Agency SUV without setting off the alarm. “That is still part of the mission,” Adam grumbles, turning away. Nate takes the final step that will get him where he wants to be, which is within touching distance of the brooding commander. Adam stiffens, but stubbornly keeps his gaze turned in the direction of the hideout, little more than a nondescript, barely-lit grey building in the distance. The radio silence makes them both antsy, but Nate takes comfort in knowing their team is a capable one, and if anything were wrong, they would be alerted. Nate allows himself another indulgence, and slides his hand over Adam’s arm. He’s done it countless times before. Even before this change, this new territory to chart, Adam allowed him and their team more intimacy than he allowed anyone else. Casual touches are not new, but now they feel strangely loaded. They carry a new weight.

An intent.

Nate squeezes the hard, tense muscle of Adam’s bicep, and Adam spins to face him again. He seems startled to realize Nate's gotten so close, and one hand comes up to press against his chest. Nate stops, lifts his head, and cocks his brows, waiting. There is a flush creeping up Adam’s cheeks, his breath seems to have frozen in his lungs (luckily he doesn’t really need it), and for a long moment, they simply stare at one another in silence.

Adam exhales in a plume of white mist, leaning forward ever so slightly. A hardly perceptible movement, but Nate has long since learned to read Adam’s gestures, his expressions, his silent requests. He slides his hand over the one on his chest, curling his fingers around it tenderly. “Your hands are cold,” he observes. Adam opens his mouth, likely to make some remark about Nate’s obvious comment, but it freezes before it even reaches the chilly air when Nate pulls the hand to his mouth to breathe warm air over it and rub it between his own. His eyes never leave Adam’s, wide and bright in the darkness, and that enticing flush only deepens when Nate presses his mouth softly to his knuckles. He kisses each one, slowly and sweetly, all the while rubbing circles into Adam's palm. Adam swallows, eyelids fluttering, and his lips part, but all that escapes them is a wordless, shaky little sigh.

And then Nate is being backed into the wall of the building behind them, Adam’s hands balled into the lapels of his coat. Nate’s shoulders hit the drab brick, and Adam crowds in close, green eyes flashing in the gloom. Nate’s hands find his hips, slipping underneath his coat, in part because his hands are somewhat cold as well, but mostly to get as close to skin as he can possibly get. He licks his lips, waiting. He’s waited three centuries for this, he can be patient a little while longer, and allow Adam to come to him when he’s ready.

The first kiss is quick, hardly more than a chaste peck. Adam's lips are cold, a little chapped, and Nate tries to follow them when they pull away. Thankfully, he isn't left wanting for long. Adam seems bolstered by his reaction, and kisses him again, more forcefully. His lips part in a sweet little gasp, and Nate takes the invitation, running his tongue along his lower lip and pulling it playfully between his teeth. He feels the sound that rumbles in Adam's chest more than he hears it, and he can't help but smirk. He hopes Adam can feel it pressed against his mouth, hopes he knows how much Nate delights in every reaction, relishes every little sound, and commits them to memory.

Adam's lips warm quickly against his, and his hands do too, sliding into Nate's open coat to brace against his chest. Nate warms his by tugging Adam's shirt from his belt and slipping his hands underneath. Adam gasps, his belly shuddering and twitching reflexively under his chilly fingers, but he doesn't pull away. If anything, he presses closer, clinging like a man drowning, soft, rough noises slipping helplessly from his mouth into Nate’s. Somehow, his thigh winds up between Adam’s, his hands creeper higher and higher underneath his shirt, inching it up over his belly. They’re pressed so close together, though, that his bare skin doesn’t meet the air.

Nate breaks away from the kiss with a heated gasp, and his wet lips are almost immediately stinging with the cold. It’s Adam’s turn to chase his mouth now, pushing up onto his toes to close the distance between them. He kisses at Nate’s jaw almost frantically, his fingers curling into his shirt, and when Nate doesn’t give him what he wants immediately, he growls.

It should be threatening. Nate has heard Adam growl before. He’s seen him bare his teeth and snarl to intimidate an enemy into backing down, or simply out of annoyance. Adam is a fierce presence when he wants to be, the very picture of an apex predator. Powerfully built, strong, and proud, with eyes that could gut a lesser man with a simple look. Now, growling as he mouths and nuzzles against Nate’s jaw, he just sounds needy.

Nate might die here, but it won’t be because Adam is any sort of threat. It’s easy enough to reverse their positions, pliant as Adam has gotten. It’s shockingly easy, really, and Nate is taken back to their conversation in Adam’s room, the way he simply let himself be spun around and pinned against his own desk, let Nate take whatever he wanted from him. They have sparred, however little Nate cares for it, and Adam’s beaten him every time. There’s no question which of them is physically stronger. The only reason Nate could push him anywhere is if Adam let him do so.

He shudders at the realization, an almost pained groan tearing free of him, and dips his head to catch Adam’s mouth again, earning another growl that he swallows up desperately. He wastes no time in slipping his tongue past Adam’s lips, tasting him with a feverish hunger that blisters with heat so intense he forgets the cold entirely. He gets his thigh between Adam’s legs again, and he pushes up, reveling in the choked moan it earns him. He swallows that too. Nate knows hunger, feels it gnawing at him even now, but even that ever-present, aching reminder of what he is drowns in the wake of this clawing need to get as close as possible, to taste as much of Adam as possible.

He is blearily considering how easy it would be to undo Adam’s fatigues and slip his hand inside, when he is nearly blinded by a sudden light washing over the little alcove they’ve sequestered into.

He snarls, lifting a hand to shield his eyes, and once the starbursts clear from his vision, he sees Chase standing at the mouth of the alleyway, shining his phone’s flashlight over them.

Nate doesn’t need the light to see the smirk curling the detective’s full lips, the wry quirk of his brow. He is flanked by Mason and Felix, who are wearing eerily matching, leering grins at the compromising position in which they’ve found their commanding agent and his second.

Heat rushes to his cheeks, and he peels himself away from Adam’s front (reluctantly, of course—embarrassed as he is, he still yearns to wrap himself around that powerful body and simply refuse to let go) with a sheepish cough. He finds his clothes are a bit… disheveled, to say the least, so he busies himself putting them back into order, risking a glance at Adam to find him hurrying to do the same.

Chase shakes his head disapprovingly and tuts at them. “Really, you two? Canoodling? In the middle of a mission?” He’s still smirking, eyeing them over with that sharp, knowing gaze.

Felix giggles helplessly and whispers “Canoodling” to Mason, who snorts.

“The mission,” Adam snaps, straightening his posture admirably, considering he is still hastily tucking his shirt back into his trousers. “You’ve gotten the information we need?” He sounds faintly breathless, but he hides it well. The pinkness of his lips, noticeably wet and swollen, less so. Nate wonders, a bit hysterically, if their accelerated healing mitigates things like beard burn.

Chase produces a manila folder from inside his jacket and waves it smugly. “Was there ever any doubt?”

“How did it go?” Nate asks, raking his fingers through his hair. “No difficulties, I hope? It’s still quiet.” He glances towards the building in the distance. Still and dimly lit. He breathes a sigh of relief. Even with the distraction, he does worry for his team, and is glad to see they seem no worse for wear. He is also, perhaps, glad to have a distraction from the heat still surging under his skin, the tangle of arousal still burning in his gut, the sharp awareness of Adam standing stiffly at his shoulder, a person-shaped knot of tension.

“In and out,” Mason says with a nod and a little smile playing about his lips. Felix snickers again. “So easy it was almost boring.” The smile widens, and Nate braces for impact. “We definitely didn’t have as much fun as you two did.”

Felix collapses against Chase’s shoulder cackling.

Adam tenses even more, and Nate is concerned he’ll break something with how hard he’s clenching his jaw. “We'll return to the Warehouse and debrief there," he says stiffly, refusing to even deign the teasing with a response. Nate can't help but risk a touch to his lower back, light and barely there, in hopes it will soothe him even a little.

Adam meets his eyes for a fraction of a second, but Nate can feel the way his body loosens ever so slightly, and presses his palm more firmly to his back, smiling.

"Oh, yeah, I bet you're real eager to debrief at least one of us," Felix manages to wheeze out, still recovering from his last little fit.

Adam's spine snaps straight again, and he begins to draw away from Nate's touch, to retreat into himself, to overthink. Chase sees it too, and he elbows Felix sharply in the side to quiet him. Nate takes the moment of distraction and loops his arm around Adam's waist and reels him in to brush a quick kiss to his temple. "Relax," he breathes into his ear.

He waits for Adam to react, keeps his grasp loose, so he can escape if he needs to. He wants this to be easy, but knows it may not be for Adam. This is uncharted territory for them both, but they have always handled uncharted territory in vastly different ways. He cannot expect Adam to simply be ready just because he is.

Adam doesn’t relax, so he begins to step away, keeping his face neutral, his posture loose. The rejection stings a bit, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. A strong hand latches around his wrist before he can withdraw it completely, and Adam’s eyes are stubbornly narrowed when they meet his. Nate smiles, warmth blooming bright in his chest, and curls his arm around Adam even tighter, slipping two fingers through his belt loops. He finally begins to relax, if slowly, and Nate can’t stop smiling.

Mason stomps his feet noisily against the cracked asphalt, interrupting the little moment, and Nate tears his eyes from Adam’s to see him rubbing his arms. “Can we go? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“Is it?” Nate asks brightly, turning towards the black SUV parked deeper in the shadowed alleyway and steering Adam along with him. “I’d hardly noticed.”

#pidge writes #the wayhaven chronicles #twc fanfic #adam du mortain #nate sewell #adam/nate #HOO BOY THIS WAS A LONG ONE #i am SO SORRY #it's also messy as hell but i wanted desperately to at least post it before midnight #i hope y'all like it #nate kinda took over and needed to wax poetic about his feelings b*ner #we get it dude #chill maybe #this is kind of a direct sequel to my last adam/nate prompt #they're still figuring everything out #it's probably not easy to change the parameters of a relationship thats been the same for three centuries #but also its probably not easy to contain three centuries of pent up feelings #adam is also sensitive to teasing especially when he's trying to maintain his Commanding Leader persona #but like #this is his family #they love him #they're happy for both of them #but also they are absolutely not going to let them live #anyway ive rambled enough yeehaw #evilbunnyking #the bloodletting DID go well btw!#so well i had to do it TWICE in one week!#and i have to do it again NEXT WEEK

29 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

Can you write number 18 to Finny

I love to write about delusional Yanderes! Finny will be aged up in here.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, delusions, kidnapping, violence, Yandere harming the s/o

Prompt 18: “I-I just want you to love me!”

“Please stop!! Stop crying!! Tell me what I have to do to help you, but stop crying!!!” You didn’t stop crying. How could you stop your tears from falling in a situation like this?! You didn’t even know if you were crying because he had caught you once again or if you were crying because he had broken your leg. It was probably both. “Stop it!!” Finny came closer to you, wanting to comfort you, but the moment he stepped even one inch closer to you you bursted out in even more into tears. Your breathing quickened and you were almost about to start hyperventilating, but at least Finny realized that and stepped away. He had a heartbroken expression on his face. “I just want to help you!! Please let me!!” His desperate screams fell on deaf ears. You refused to let him come any more near to you than he already was. “S-stay away from m-me.”, you sobbed. “(y-(y/n).” His voice sounded sincerely hurt, but he also believed sincerely that you were his goddess which he had to protect and also believed that kidnapping and breaking your leg in order for you to understand was right. What had actually happened here?

Flashback

You had only one goal in mind, escaping him! And now you had the chance too. That was at least what you had thought until now. But you had underestimated how much earlier Finny would come home just to see you again. That had thrown your carefully planned escape completely out of it’s track. You didn’t know how much distance there was between you and him, but you knew for sure that it was decreasing more and more because his calls for you were getting louder and louder. “(y/n!! Come back here my little angel!! This world is too dangerous for you to be out!!” Damn it! His screams had gotten louder again, meaning that he had again came closer to you. You dared to look back for a short moment, but you still couldn’t see him. That was at least a good sign. But you started to get panicked. You could feel how you were getting more and more tired the longer you continued to run and you knew that you would reach your limits very soon. But the important question right now was whether you would manage to reach the town before you were finished. How far was London even away? Hopefully not too far. “(y/n)!! Please stop running away!! You might slip and hurt yourself!! Let’s go back home my goddess!! I’ll bring you your favorite snacks if you want too!!”

You forgot to breathe for a second, a mistake because suddenly the painful stinging in your sides became even worse. You gritted your teeth. His voice! It had sounded so incredibly close! For a moment you were almost too afraid to look back, but you still forced your head to turn back for a short second. Dread started to shoot through your body. You could see him! Finny was still a good amount of feet behind you, but judging by his speed you knew that it wouldn’t take long until he would reach you. You started increasing your speed as much as possible too, absolutely terrified of what he would do as soon as he would reach you. “Angel!! Please stop running!! I’m here, you don’t have to be afraid!!” Was he really thinking that you would stop when he would say this to you?! You were running away from him because you were afraid of HIM! Suddenly you heard a peculiar sound behind you. You glanced shortly behind you and nearly stopped in your track when you saw what was going on behind you. Finny had just ripped out on of the trees and was currently aiming for the area in front of you. “(y/n)!! Please be careful now or you might get hurt!!” With these words he threw the tree powerfully in the air. You couldn’t help, but follow it with your eyes, not having enough time to react when it suddenly crashed in the ground right in front of you. You let out a shocked scream, but couldn’t slow down in time. You collided painfully hard with the tree trunk and for a moment all of the air in your lungs was being knocked out and you stumbled back before landing on your ass. You were in daze for a second before jumping panicked up. You needed to escape! You needed to run!

But when you wanted to start sprinting again you were suddenly lifted up in someone’s arms. “(y/n)!! Please never do this again!! I was so scared that something would happen to you or that I wouldn’t be able to catch you!!” No, no, no, no! Every rational thought which may have helped you out started disappearing and the only thing you could think of right now was starting to kick and screaming. “No! Let go of me! I need to escape! Please let me go!” “But why would you want to run away when I’m there for you? I just want to protect you.” You didn’t hear him and continued protesting, but this guy here was strong and you weren’t able to escape his iron-like grip. “Stop struggling! I just want to keep you safe!!” You didn’t listen to him and you didn’t even realize his words, too scared and panicked to calm down. If you would have done that you could have probably avoided the next thing from happening. But you didn’t. Everything happened so fast that you didn’t even realize it as first. In one moment your left leg was kicking against Finny and in the next moment Finny grabbed it and with one fast grip an unpleasant sound was heard and suddenly your leg hang loosely down. You were at first too stunned to process what had happened, but when the pain suddenly started kicking in your eyes widened in horror and a loud scream escaped your lips. He had just broken your leg!

“I’m sorry for ruining your perfect body, but I promise it’s only for your best! Like this you can’t run away from me anymore! And that gives me the chance to protect you! Don’t worry, I’ll take very good care of you.” With these words he carried you back to the place where you had run away from, the place you didn’t want to return. But trying to reason with Finny was meaningless.

Flashback End

By now Finny had went on his knees, trying desperately to crawl closer to you and touch you, but he flinched back every time when you started crying harder. “What did I do wrong?! Please tell me so I can fix it!!” Did he seriously not know what he had done wrong?!?! “Are you dumb?! Do you seriously ask me what you did wrong?! You broke my fucking leg! It hurts! It hurts like shit!!” It seemed like you had just hit Finny in his face because his expression twisted into a hurt and desperate one. “I only did that because I wanted to protect you! You’re too fragile to be out there alone and I just wanted to help you realizing that you need me! I can protect you! I’m existing only for the reason to make sure that no one can harm you!” For a second a shocked look crossed your face. It wasn’t the first time that he had told you this, but you couldn’t help, but feel shocked every time he told you his twisted fantasies. “Protecting me my ass!! I was able to survive without you my whole life and I still can!! If you’re my guardian then I’m already as good as dead!! Don’t you get it?! I don’t need you in order to survive!!”

It almost seemed like a shadow crossed Finny’s eyes, but you hadn’t enough time to take a closer look because he suddenly sank his head so that you weren’t able to see his eyes anymore, but you were still able to see the tears dripping down his face. Was he really crying because of your words? “Why?”, he mumbled quietly. Finny clenched his fists and suddenly started shaking that you were for a moment worried about him. That was until he suddenly punched both of his fists into the ground, immediately creating a hole inside of the floor. “Why don’t you get it that I only do this to protect you?!” He looked up with his tearfilled eyes. “I-I just want you to love me!” He moved once again closer towards you, but this time you were too stunned to react in some way, his pure desperation shocking you. Since you didn’t say anything against him Finny moved closer and closer until his body was pressed against yours. He had a slightly hopeful look in his eyes because you weren’t fighting him and took this chance to pull you into a tight and desperate hug. “Please love me...”

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere finny #yandere finnian

51 notes · View notes