#ofc while I was animating I started questioning my life choices | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

royallyprincesslilly · 3 years

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Title: Hibiscus Kisses {6}

Chris Evans x OFC Ajali Rambaue AU {Ah-Jah-Lee, Ram-Bow}

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Blood, Lots Of Words, Death

Words: 8.3k

Summary: Ajali decides on a rash decision to go on a Disney cruise, not for her love of Disney, but because she needs time to figure things out after things get even more complicated in her complicated life. She only expected peace, quiet, tropical drinks, and an overabundance of Disney songs. What she got was more than she bargained for when the cruise of a lifetime on the brand new ship Enchantment turned into a nightmare. The only saving grace is that she’s not the only one living through the nightmare. Can Ajali survive the test of a lifetime and the dangers ahead of her, and better yet, will she finally be able to live a little?

Note: Please feel free to tell me what you think. I’m super excited to explore this one with you all. 🤗

As always, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG! ❤️❤️

I appreciate each and every one of your guys’ support and love!

***VERY Loosely Edited/Proofread***

**Interactive**

Previous Chapters: {1} | {2} | {3} | {4} | {5} |

You must have stood at the back of the yacht for a while because the shore and the docks were barely visible at this point. Every minute that ticked by you weighed your options of just diving in and swimming back. Everything you came up with seemed fine to deal with. So what if your hair got wet and you had to go through your four-hour wash and treat routine. So what if you attracted a shark or two, you could swim. So what if everything in your bag got drenched, you could replace them.

With the number of rebuttals you came up with, you should have jumped in already. The major con that was flashing in your head in neon lettering was you are an adult and not a child who ran away from difficult situations. The sound of laughter had you turning around to see Chris laughing with Harper. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. Scoffing, you turned back around and crossed your arms.

Almost a minute later you felt Chris standing beside you. “If you want to swim back I’m sure you could make it.”

If looks could kill, the one you gave him should have done it. All you had to do was push him overboard to a watery grave. Chris lifted his hands to show his no threat status and that was when you walked away.

“All right folks. It’ll be another forty minutes before we arrive at the best fishing spot in all of the islands. It’s my little secret. In the meantime, you have a choice of activities. You can go down below and marine watch, stay on deck and do some pictures and sights, or go into the bubble where you are surrounded by the ocean. It is optimal for fish watching. I’ll let you folks know when we’ve arrived.”

You nodded and walked toward the steps that would lead below deck. You fully intended to get as far away from him as possible. Ignoring the way he turned to you as if he had something to say, you carefully went down the steps and to the back of the yacht. There you found what Harper was referring to. It looked like an actual bubble with two seats. Once you sat down you saw why this was mentioned as the most sought-after experience. You really felt like you were alone under the ocean and not apart from it but one with it.

You watched a school of yellow and black striped fish swim by and a small box popped up to the right of the screen with a still photo of the fish and a few listed facts.

“Moorish Idol fish. These fish commonly inhabit tropical to subtropical reefs and lagoons. These fish usually travel alone or in small schools. These fish mate for life and adult males show aggression to one another.”

Your jaw dropped. You hadn’t expected it to be high-tech. In front of you, you grabbed the flipbook and flicked through it to see a variety of sea creatures. The announcement of another fish brought your attention back to the ocean before you and that is where your eyes remained. Creature after creature swam by and up to the glass. Each one was announced and described. As they came up, you took pictures of the pretty ones you liked ready to show them to your family when you returned home.

You were so wrapped up in fish watching that you didn’t notice that you weren’t alone until it was too late. Chris slipped into the seat beside you, startling you. Your harsh glare landed on him with the force of fifty blades behind it. He wasn’t looking at you though, his eyes were glued to the water and passing reef life.

“Oh wow, Nemo and Dory,” Chris exclaimed inching closer to the glass.

That was all it took for your attention to go right back, and lo and behold there were Dory and Nemo lookalikes.

“Wow.”

Mirroring Chris’s actions you slid to the edge of the seat as well and touched the glass. They were pretty in animation but that had nothing on real life. The orange and blue were so striking up close.

“They’re even best friends in real life,” Chris quietly said.

For the next few minutes neither of you spoke again you were too wrapped up in looking at all the fish that passed by one after the other. When you’d reached a part of the ocean where life was scarce, you sat back and crossed your arms.

“Can I please explain?”

You sighed and dropped your head back to rest on the hard headrest, keeping your eyes trained in front of you.

“I promise I’m not this asshole you have me pegged as in your head.”

“So you don’t go around trying to charm women out of your panties and in your bed for notches on your bedpost?”

“God no!”

You rolled your eyes not believing one word.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to nothing but good,” Chris replied holding up three fingers.

A smirk teased your lips at the Harry Potter line he’d just repurposed for his own use mixed with the Hunger Games salute. You shook your head unable to ignore how adorkably stupid he was.

“You know those two have nothing to do with the other, right?”

Chris slyly smiled and shrugged. “It’s sorta my thing. Sleeping around and I have nothing to do with each other also.”

You snorted and shook your head. He was smooth.

“You’re real smooth, I’ll give you that.”

He sighed and turned his body more to you. “It’s a misunderstanding,” Chris began.

“Let me stop you there. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time anyone starts off with that, chances are there was no misunderstanding,” you dryly informed.

“That high? Okay, then I fall in the point one percent.”

You glared at him again but he didn’t back down, he held your glare but behind his eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity rather than the hostility you had spearing behind yours. When you didn’t object, he opened his mouth to speak again but you looked away.

“There’s no need.”

“Why won’t you let me explain?”

You knew why. If he explained and the explanation seemed plausible and he looked sincere the chances of you believing it would be eighty percent and that was high. You would then continue spending time with him because you did enjoy his company and conversation and eventually sleep with him. Maybe. Letting him explain was step one that would lead to a series of missteps. Then you’d find yourself in a situation come the end of the cruise when both of you went your separate ways. There were too many what-ifs in the air.

“Ah, I think I know. If you let me explain then this image you have of me being a womanizer who is after fast and quick ass, who would come on a cruise to chase women for a notch would be debunked. If it is debunked, then you’d have to admit that you liked spending time with me and enjoyed yourself. Then you’d have to admit that what might have happened if my phone didn’t ring wouldn’t have been a one-off. You’d have to face the possibility that there might be something here past our physical attraction.”

Well damn, you thought. For a moment your thoughts betrayed the steely animosity in your eyes and you knew your shock shone through. You quickly looked away from him and tapped into your inner Elsa while watching a school of white fish pass by. You could feel him beside you staring at you as if trying to crack your resolve. You fought against him and kept your breathing slow and steady.

“You don’t have to tell me I’m right. I know I am and it’s not because I’m a cocky prick. It’s because—,” Chris paused then sighed heavily before he continued. “I liked spending time—with you. Like really liked it and this was before anything physical happened. You’re funny and fun and not phased by this thing called fame that is wrapped around me. You probably don’t understand it, but that’s something refreshing and attractive to me.”

Unable to resist any longer, you sneakily glanced at him while wondering if any part of what he’d just said was possibly true.

“Before I came on this cruise to get away from my life—run away from my life.”

Your interest piqued. Why was he running away? Didn’t he have everything?

“My friend, the one you heard on the phone was teasing me about the reason. I didn’t want to give him the real deal so I kept quiet which led him to the conclusion that it had something to do with a woman. It didn’t but he thought it. So the phone call was him stating his opinions again, his way of life. Now I’m not condoning what he said at all but that’s his life. I didn’t come here for any of that and that night wasn’t about that for me.”

“What was it about?”

You blurted the question without a thought and once you’d asked, you regretted it. The answer wouldn’t do you any good.

Sighing, you looked back out to the water. “Don’t answer that.”

And he didn’t. The silence stretched and your thoughts did as well. You contemplated his explanation and the probability of any of it being true. He had all the reason to lie right now, but the more you thought about it the more you guessed he didn’t need to lie being who he was. He could have just shrugged and put you on the side that wasn’t a fan of his and kept it moving.

“Look,” Chris said shoving his phone to you with the text exchange between him and someone named Austin was visible.

“I know what it is to be distrustful of strangers or everyone really and proof means a lot to me. Since the burden of proof is on my side, here it is.”

You read through the exchange from a little over a week ago and sure enough, his friend Austin was scum. The irrefutable proof showed those sentiments were his and even showed Chris admonishing him for those sentiments and setting him straight. The banter that continued was Austin teasing him about his good boy behaviors. From the texts, you could tell they were close, and you could also tell that Austin was the asshole between them and Chris was possibly a good guy.

Groaning, you looked away and dropped your head back to the headrest again. You did not need this. Sighing, you closed your eyes and listened to the silence. Several minutes passed by where neither of you spoke and just when you were going to Harper’s voice came in over the ship’s intercoms.

“We have some dolphin action up here if anyone’s interested.”

“Dolphins!”

Your head snapped to Chris hearing the uncharacteristically excited squeal. Did he really just turn into a Powerpuff girl? Chris leapt to his feet and began walking toward the steps leaving you there to wonder just what kind of man he was.

A few moments later, you emerged from below and walked to the railing to see a dolphin jump out of the water in the distance.

“Oh my god!”

At that moment you felt your smallness in the world. There were so many other creatures that were bigger and yet humans always thought themselves so superior. It was baffling.

“It’s not always like this, they must be here to greet you folks,” Harper said as another jumped out and one swam up.

You dropped down to your knees and peered over the railing and marveled at the aquatic beauty.

“They’re so friendly.”

Just then, a dolphin popped up showing its long bottlenose and black eyes and in the same breath, a stream of water came at you drenching you. In your shock, you just sat there while Chris and Harper heartily got their laugh in at your expense. To add insult to injury the dolphin even sounded like it was laughing. Who could be mad though? It was too cute. You looked across the way and saw Chris snapping pictures of you with a wide smile on his face. Being alarmed, snapping at him, or even telling him to delete the pictures would have all been acceptable reactions but you didn’t react in any of those ways. Instead, you brought your attention back to the dolphins in the water. Let him take his pictures, you thought.

Twenty minutes later you were sitting at the side of the boat with your legs dangling over the edge enjoying the breeze, sun, and tranquility being on the ocean brought. There was something so serene about being in the middle of a giant body of water with creatures of plenty underneath its depths while there was nothing in sight for miles and miles. It was peaceful. The pictures you took of the horizon, the sky, and the water were breathtaking. You knew they’d make great printouts to add to your walls when you returned home. When you realized your battery was running low, you dug into your bag for one of your four fully charged portable chargers and slipped your phone into one of the many waterproof pouches you had your belongings secured inside.

Your sister liked to make fun of you for how well you prepared for things. When you went out for every day, your purse contained every possible thing you would and could need for the day. You didn’t like being unprepared for whatever you came across and that included something as minor as rain all the way to the major things like abductions. You’d been the butt of many jokes but you didn’t care.

Glancing to the other side of the yacht, you watched as Chris followed the instruction of Harper as he practiced a variety of sailor’s knots. It didn’t look like he was a novice though. You could tell he’d done it a few times before. Sooner than you could look away, Harper caught you then motioned you over. It would have been rude to ignore him, so you walked over to them and sat before them.

“Here, try your hand at sailor’s knots,” Chris suggested holding out a length of rope to you.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” he followed up as you took it.

“You look like you’ve done it before.”

“Once or twice,” he replied.

You studied the knots surrounding Chris for a few moments then took a stab at it. From the beginning you messed it up but didn’t quit, instead, you undid it and tried again. You didn’t quit easy. That was probably why you were in your current relationship predicament. A few minutes and several failed attempts later, you held up the finished product that looked identical to Chris’s.

“So you have one of those brains where you can see something and replicate it?”

You scoffed and shrugged. “Kind of. I just pick some things up quickly.”

Chris nodded and held out another length of rope and pointed to a different pattern. “Try this one.”

You knew it was a test. You grabbed the rope and studied the new pattern that was a lot more intricate than the first. Though it was more intricate it took you a shorter amount of time to start. When you held it up for them to see, less time had passed and you hadn’t made one mistake.

“Wow,” Harper exclaimed before he chuckled.

“What can I say, I’m pretty amazing,” you joked.

Both men laughed but didn’t debate the fact.

“We’re coming up on the cove that gives me the best fish. Of course, we’re catching and releasing, but it won’t dampen the experience,” Harper informed.

Within a few short minutes, Harper had pulled up to one of the most beautiful coves you’d ever seen. The water was aquamarine crystal blue. It was so crystal like you could see several feet into it. The giant rocks that created a maze had moss growing off the tops of them that were lush green and created a nice contrast of colors. If you could have picked up this view and brought it home with you, you would have. It was that breathtaking.

You weren’t the only one thinking it, Chris was a few feet away snapping every picture he could get, only he didn’t look like a tourist. He looked like a professional travel photographer. When he dropped to one of his knees to get a different angle you just leaned against the railing and watched. The sun beaming down on him gave his hair a reddish hue which looked good on him. It even accentuated the freckles peppered along his arms. You remembered what was under that shirt of his at that second. You remembered the muscles, the hair, and the tats. It was an unexpected sight but one that you wouldn’t mind seeing again. Instantly you kissed your teeth and slapped your forehead.

“Cut it out.”

“Did you say something?”

Chris was looking at you with a quizzical expression with his camera still posed up.

“Nope, nothing.”

He didn’t look like he believed you, but slowly he went back to snapping his pictures while you tried to create even more distance between you.

“Get a grip, Ajali. It hasn’t been that long. You’re not affection starved either. Get—a—grip.”

You took a few slow breathes and focused on the scene before you. You now understood why many people said this island was a top destination for vacations.

“And we’re ready. You both said you’ve fished before, right?”

You walked toward Harper’s voice then saw he had fishing rods, buckets, gloves, and all the other supplies lying at his feet.

“I’ve done some fishing,” Chris offered before both sets of eyes landed on you.

“Never.”

“It’s not hard, I promise,” Harper assured bending for the rods. He held one out to Chris and the other to you.

“Thank you.”

“I’ll explain everything and its function. If either of you have any questions let me know.”

Harper walked a few feet away leading the two of you to a shaded portion of the yacht. Once there, he explained everything in detail. He showed the parts of the rod, showed how to put things together, explained their function, and then went on to the different kinds of bait that were available. When he began demonstrating how to hold the rod and posture you paid close attention and imitated what he did. You knew though this was something that would take some getting used to.

After twenty minutes, the three of you were in your spots ready to cast your rods. You watched Harper cast his first and it looked so fluid. You could tell he’d done this thousand of times. Then you watched Chris and though his movements weren’t as fluid, it looked like he was far from a beginner. You sighed and tried your best. The rod was heavy in your hands and affected your ability to control it and cast it perfectly. Glancing at Harper, he shrugged.

“Good enough. You got it where it needs to go.”

A soft chuckle escaped both you and Chris.

“What kind of catch do you get out here?”

Harper proceeded to explain the different kinds of fish he’d caught to Chris while you partially zoned them out. It didn’t take long for you to understand why people liked fishing. It was calming. You could leisurely do it while letting your mind drift and worries float away. Thirty minutes later it was your line that tugged first. You yelped then squeaked as you panicked.

“What do I do?”

“Reel it in,” Harper said.

The resistance on the line was giving you a good arm workout. The struggle went back and forth. You doubted this was a baby.

“This thing is strong.”

“You got it, put your back into it like Ice Cube,” Chris teased making you narrow your eyes at him. That only made him laugh loudly.

A few more moments of struggle persisted until you’d yanked the rod backward tucking it out of the water, over your head, and flopping the fish right on the deck.

“Aaaah, oh my god! I caught a fish!”

You jumped up and down excited by your success. Forgetting any prior slights you jumped closer to Chris and bumped shoulders with him.

“I did it!”

“You did.”

“Good job. This here is a Barracuda,” Harper announced.

“Ooooh Barracuda,” you and Chris said in unison like the song. The two of you giggled together before returning your attention to Harper.

“It’s not an adult, but it’s no baby either. You want a picture?”

“Yes!”

You scurried to your bag and pulled out your phone then handed it to Chris before you dropped down to your knees and bent to the fish still flopping on the deck and smiled as you’d just won the lotto. Chris laughed and took the picture a few moments later. After the first few shots, you changed poses and let him take a few more. You watched as Chris’s face went from wide smiles to solemn confusion. Just as you were going to ask if your battery died, Harper spoke.

“Do you want to do the honors of releasing it?”

“You mean touch it?”

Harper nodded and you ardently shook your head. “No thank you. I hear Barracudas like to bite.”

Harper laughed at you as he effortlessly grabbed the fish by its tail then chucked it back into the ocean.

“It was just an adolescent.”

Chris held your phone out then walked back to his rod without a word. Slight confusion washed over you as you glanced at your screen to see one of the pictures he’d just taken, but your battery was fully charged.

For the next few hours Chris barely spoke to you, but when you glanced over to him, his eyes were always on you before he looked away once yours met his. It was a complete turnaround from before. It shouldn’t have bothered or affect you at all considering the reality of things, but it did bother you a little bit. Once the three of you had had your fill of catch and release the sun was beginning to disappear. Harper caught a huge Mahi Mahi, scaled and fillet it right in front of you, and Chris showing off his impressive knife skills. He then took the fish to prepare what he promised would be the best open ocean fish you’d ever had. You were excited to see the finished product.

Once Harper had disappeared down below you walked to the cooler, took out two beers, and walked over to Chris. He was sitting toward the back of the yacht watching the rocks in silence. You sat beside him, held out the beer, and waited for him to accept it. When he took it, he wasted no time twisting off the top and taking a mouthful. You sat there in silence looking over the view.

“Who knew a celebrity could fish.”

“I’m not a celebrity all day every day. I have hobbies and free time.”

“I take it fishing is a hobby?”

“When I can get to it. Sometimes I can’t go off the grid to do it.”

You nodded and tried to picture him at a lake with a rod and bucket of bait catching fish. A soft smile spread across your face before you gulped your beer.

“What’s one of your hobbies?”

Taking a deep breath you slowly released it. “Painting.”

“You’re artistic?”

“Depends what you call artistic. I can slap some paint on a canvas and call it a day.”

Chris looked at you for a few moments. “Somehow I find it hard to believe it’s as lowkey as you’re describing. I bet you’re a modern-day Frida Kahlo.”

You smiled and shrugged. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Silence spread between you again and the two of you sipped from your bottles. It was a semi-comfortable silence.

“Are you departing tomorrow or staying on?”

You wanted to ask why he wanted to know but decided against it. “Staying on.”

Chris nodded. “Me too.”

Neither of you spoke again, instead, you watched the sky as the sun slowly began its descent behind the water. When Harper returned, the air filled with such a delicious scent that your belly grumbled loudly.

“And dinner is served. Harper placed the platter down on the table and you and Chris walked over to it. Your jaw dropped in amazement.

“What kind of kitchen do you have down there that can produce that?”

“I’ve had tons of practice.”

The Mahi Mahi that was alive less than two hours ago was now cooked to perfection and decorated with papaya, and a green salad.

“Wow, this looks mouthwatering,” Chris complimented.

“It’s nothing fancy, just some fish with a papaya and seaweed salad.”

“Seaweed salad? Oh wow. You utilize everything huh.”

“Absolutely. I can tell you more about using everything you can to not only survive but make good food,” Harper said motioning you both to sit down.

“No one is serving you here, help yourselves there’s plenty.”

The three of you dug in taking portions of fish and salad. When you took a bite of the Mahi Mahi your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Oh my god. This is so good.”

“All it needed was some salt, pepper, and lemon. Sometimes keeping it simple is the best way.”

Chris moaned and nodded in agreement with you. “Delicious.”

As the three of you ate, Harper told you all about his travels and time living on his own on the ocean and how he’d learned to survive on little to nothing. It was so interesting to hear his story. From it, you gathered he was determined, creative, meticulous, and persevering. He didn’t let anything stop him and because of that mindset, he said he’d seen a lot of wonderful things and had a beautiful life. Listening to him speak about his loves and losses and how it was just him in the end you couldn’t help but think about your relationships.

When he began listing off the life lessons he’d learned you made note of each and every one of them. You always thought the stories of the older generations were interesting. While most of their experiences were relatable, a lot of it wasn’t because of the difference in eras. In Harper’s era being a bachelor past twenty-two was seen as taboo, yet that was the life he lived. When he spoke of when he did get married, it was to the one woman he’d loved since he was twenty years old. The woman he’d been stupid about and missed out on two times. From the way he spoke about her, you knew she was his soul mate.

Glancing to Chris who was sitting diagonally from you, part of you wondered how relatable Harper’s experiences were to him. You thought back to the very few tabloid and gossip stories you’d read about him but nothing jumped out to you. The tabloids didn’t focus on one woman that he was possibly seeing, they didn’t highlight any crazy behaviors with any of them or even highlight breakups. That was part of how you’d pieced him together. The lack of information left for such a wide breadth of possibilities to put together.

“Take it from me young ones, when you’re walking down a dimly lit street of soft lights, and you happen to find that anomaly among the sea that shines a different light and makes everything else pale in comparison you do whatever it takes to hold on to that. You fight for it and don’t let anything or anyone make you miss out on it. None of us are here for a long time. One day I’ll join my Angie and we’ll be together again. I welcome that day, until then I’ll keep drifting.”

The three of you sat there in silence, each of you lost in your thoughts and worries. Was Javii that anomaly or was he part of the sea and you’d been mistaken this whole time? When Harper returned to the helm to captain you back toward land you were secluded from the rest of them and still lost in your thoughts. It had been days since you left and you’d figured out nothing. If anything, you’d added more to your plate to think about. This was what you hadn’t wanted to do and that was the reason you chose this option rather than staying in the city.

You began to wonder again about the person who would be that anomaly that Harper spoke of. Rather than thinking of your experiences with Javii, your irresponsible mind thought of your run-ins with Chris. When you’d seen him in passing before boarding the ship you’d noticed him in the sea of people and amidst every chaotic thing happening around you. Your brain singled him out. It did it again when you saw him in passing topside when you’d met Genevieve and in the lounge club. It was something you hadn’t focused on before but now it was all you could think of.

“Get a freaking grip, Ajali!”

You smacked your head and dropped it down hunching over to hug your shins. Suddenly, you felt raindrops and those drops quickly turned into a waterfall.

“What the--,” you began holding your hands out confused how a downpour like this could just suddenly start.

Unexpectedly, the ship lurched hard to the left sending items on the deck toppling over including your beer bottle and the empty ones around it. Thinking quickly, you grabbed the railing to not tumble. Your grip was precarious thanks to the downpour and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. Just as you were losing your grip, that was when the ship lurched again only this time to the right. With no time to grab for the railing, you tumbled over but before you hit the deck arms wrapped around you stabilizing you.

“I got you.”

Glancing up, you found Chris with rainwater pouring down his face and beard. He was holding on tightly to one of the metal poles while holding you tightly in his other arm. When the rocking went from deadly to manageable, Chris slowly let you go.

“Something must be wrong. Let’s go.”

Both of you took off on the search to find Harper. Every few seconds the rocking of the ship made items fall and roll. Chris was the one to pull you in every which direction to help you avoid the bigger items. When the ship bucked back you both slid back.

“Aaah, fuck!”

A sharp slice caught you off guard making you fall to the deck. Before Chris could react the boat rocked again sending you rolling back a few feet. When you slammed into one of the walls you shouted out in pain. Seconds later Chris was bent before you.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes quickly scanned your body and found your bleeding foot.

“Oh god.

Chris quickly pulled off his tropical printed shirt, ripped it, and began wrapping your foot.

“I’m sorry I have to do this tight to hopefully slow the bleeding,” Chris informed before he yanked the material, knotting it tightly around your injury. You tried to stifle your groan but it didn’t work. Your shout echoed across the open water and carried it competing with the downpour from the sky.

“I’m sorry. Ready to keep going? We’re almost there.”

You nodded and let Chris help you up. With his arm around your waist and yours draped over his shoulder the two of you hurried to the small enclosure where Harper was steering the boat. Every so often thanks to the falling and rolling items you and Chris looked like circus performers, jumping, dodging, and sliding out of harm's way. The way Chris managed to go into protector and alpha mode had you seeing a new side to him. Women did love a man who could take charge.

When you finally made it you found Harper passed out on the floor.

“Oh my god!”

Chris placed you along one of the windows so you could lean against it before he dropped down to his knees to check for a pulse. The longer it took him to turn to you, the more anxious you became.

“He has a pulse, but it’s thready. Looks like he may have hit his head,” Chris informed before he ripped the while men’s tank he wore at the hem and pressed it to Harper’s forehead.

On impact, Harper groaned then bolted up.

“Hey, take it easy,” Chris shouted trying to compete with the loudness of the ocean and the rain.

“No. Storm. We’re in a storm. We call these pop-ups. They happen all the time,” Harper explained as Chris helped him to his feet.

“If you knew it was coming--,” you began.

“I didn’t. No one can predict these and they’re increasingly more dangerous.”

The yacht whipped as if it were a leash sending all three of you knocking into whatever was closest. Immediately the pain that whisked through you had you screaming. That was the first time you thought you were going to die. All you could feel was pain, all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating. You slowly opened your eyes but couldn’t make anything out through the haziness. You couldn’t pinpoint where the pain in your body was coming from, it felt like it was everywhere.

“Ajali!”

Snapping your eyes open you saw Chris’s drenched and concerned face before you. “Open your eyes. Stay with me!”

It was a forceful command. One that you slowly obeyed. He helped you to a sitting position then turned back to Harper who was trying to stand to look over the built-in equipment of the ship.

“We’re way off course here. Somehow this storm has put us way off route. It makes no sense.”

“What does that mean?!”

“It means we’re drifting and not towards the islands. We’re drifting away.”

“What!”

Harper tried to turn the key for the engine but it stalled then sputtered. He tried it again and again but the result was the same.

“This is bad,” Harper added.

“What do we do?”

The ship rocked again but this tilt was so drastically different. It actually went so far on its side that it felt like you were going to capsize.

“We’re gonna tip over!”

Chris ran from the small room fighting against gravity’s pull to yank him over. Your first thought was he was leaving you.

“Hang on tight!”

Your scream was so loud you doubt you’d ever gone that high before. Terror gripped your heart and your entire life flashed before your eyes. You were certain you were done for. There was no way to make it out of this. You began mumbling but you didn’t know if what you said made any sense. A few seconds later, the ship dropped back into the water allowing you to remain top side up. You felt hands on your body and you opened your eyes to Chris shoving your arms in a bright orange life vest.

“I could only find one right now so it’s yours.”

“What—what about you?”

“I’ll be fine. Hold on tight.”

He spun around looking at Harper.

“I have to get below.”

Harper hurried out without another word and Chris turned back to you.

“I’m going to help him. Stay here.”

He made a move to leave and you grabbed his hand pulling him back to you.

“Don’t leave me.”

“I’m not. I’m going below with Harper. I’m sure he’ll need my help. I think it’s safer for you up here.”

You still held tight to his hand fear controlling your movements. Chris’s expression softened before he took a step close to you to hold you at the side of your neck to the base of your skull.

“I swear to you I won’t leave you, no matter what. We’re in this together. I will be back and we’ll laugh about this one day. For that day to come though we have to get through this and I have to help him down below. You’ll be safe. Hold on tight, stay low.”

You nodded and took a few breathes trying to psych yourself up.

“You got this,” Chris said before he pulled away and walked from you.

You closed your eyes and said a silent prayer hoping for him to come back and that his words weren’t bullshit.

The seconds seemed to slowly tick by and the minutes went on for lifetimes. Every jolt of the ship leveled you to a whimpering mess. You did just as Chris has instructed—kept low and held on for dear life. You didn’t care how numb your hand became from gripping the cold metal for so long you kept holding on. You didn’t care how cold you got from not only the ocean water but the rain and the strong wind gusts, you remained in your corner shivering refusing to come out. It didn’t matter how much the pain you felt intensified the colder you got you ignored it and kept whispering your silent prayers. You didn’t want to die. Not like this.

You heard something like a loud crack then the groaning of metal then the ship once again tilted. You screeched and tried to hold yourself to the railing but the further the boat tilted the harder it was to hold on.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You screamed again and braced yourself to end up in the water under the boat, but instead of it tipping it once again dropped back onto the water’s surface.

“Oh my god!”

“Ajali, can you hear me?”

You whipped your head around trying to find where the voice was coming from without letting go of the railing. You were too scared.

“Ajali. Can you hear me!”

On the dashboard, you saw a red light flashing and guessed it was the radio. The only problem was for you to get to it, you’d have to let go and walk over to it. If the yacht tilted again you’d slid your ass out the room and off the boat. It was a risk.

“Ajali, pick up. We’re down here trying to fix the engine but we need you to turn her on for us. Can you do that?”

“Fuck!”

You slowly stood, fighting against your aching joints, bones, and muscles, and stood upright with most of your weight on your uninjured foot. You assessed the distance from where you were to the dashboard and knew slow and steady was the best way but you doubted you had that time. You took a deep breath and took three hops on your good foot toward the dashboard. When there was just one hop left to take the vessel rocked sending you off balance and smack dab into the glass with your face.

At this point, there was no part of your body that wasn’t in pain. A metallic irony taste filled your mouth and you knew you were bleeding. You had no idea from where though, your face was completely numb.

“Ajali!?”

Using the back of one hand, you wiped across your mouth and took another deep breath, and hopped to the dashboard throwing yourself across it and holding it for dear life. You took a few moments to calm yourself then grabbed the walkie.

“I’m here.”

You heard Chris exhale as if he was relieved. “Thank god, I thought something happened.”

“I’m fine,” you lied while trying to wipe away the blood that dripped across the dashboard.

“Try to turn the engine on.”

You twisted the designated key all that happened was a long exaggerated sputter then hiss.

“This time keep it turned don’t release it,” Chris suggested.

Doing as you were told, you waited and begged the engine to cooperate. When you heard a yell over the walkie you knew it wasn’t good.

“Damn it! There’s water in the engine. The only way to even begin to work on it is for it to dry out. That’s gonna be impossible during a storm. It’ll just keep flooding. We’re not moving. Damn it!”

There was a full range of banging over the walkie that only made you panic more.

“Can everyone not fall apart right now? Please. I’m terrified enough as it is,” you pleaded.

“Listen to my voice, it’s okay. We’re coming back up. We just have to weather the storm,” Chris said. His voice sounded like he was panicking but was also trying to showcase calm. You heard both.

Another loud crack echoed but it wasn’t on your end, it was over the walkie.

“What was that?”

The sound rang out again and everything went dead silent over the walkie before a loud crash of something breaking echoed out. At that moment the ship lurched again only this time the groan of metal was so loud it made you shake from fear. Garbled speech went in and out over the walkie alarming you.

“He—hello?”

The only response you got was the walkie dying.

“Hello? Hello?” You pressed buttons and turned switches not knowing what any of them did but hoping one of them brought communication back. Nothing helped though.

“Chris! Hello? Chris! Answer me goddamn it!”

You threw the corded walkie and dropped your head down and wailed. There was no hope at all you thought.

“I’m gonna die.”

You cried, finally letting out the angst and terror you were feeling. There was nothing positive about your current situation. You were in the middle of the ocean, practically alone while a storm was raging around you. people went missing like this, people died like this. You were suddenly so tired. A wave of water brushed against your feet but you didn’t think anything of it. You almost couldn’t lift your head.

“Ajali!”

As you lifted your head you saw Chris racing toward you.

“We have to get off this ship.”

“What!”

“The glass broke. We’re taking in water and sinking—fast!”

Hearing those words you found the energy to rise. “What do we do? Where’s Harper?”

“He’s lowering the life raft. Let’s go.”

Chris wrapped his arm around your waist and helped you along. When you made it down the steps to the deck you saw that it was completely filled with water.

“Oh my god.”

“It’s all right, I have you.”

He must have gotten tired of your hobbling because he scooped you up and hurried along treading through the now calf-level water.

“You’re freezing cold,” Chris mumbled.

“What are we gonna do?”

Chris reached Harper who looked as if he’d been through hell. From one glance you could tell he was hurt.

“Climb down first,” Harper said to you as Chris put you down.

You flinched as the saltwater wreaked devastation on your injured foot.

“I’m scared.”

“I know. it’s expected, you’re human. I need you to work through that fear though and climb down into the raft,” Chris reasoned.

You nodded and tried to get over not only the terror but also will your muscles to move through them being near frozen. You tried to move your legs in some coordination to climb over the railing but it was taking a bit of time on your own. Chris stepped closer and helped you to take the first step down the ladder. When your injured foot joined your other one it slipped and sent you down a few of them only stopping when you were able to get a grip on the metal.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay.”

You slowly went down the remaining steps until you got to the last one and saw you’d need to jump off the railing to land in the raft. You took a few breathes, hoped that you made it in the raft and not in the ocean, and jumped. Landing on your back you couldn’t relax. It hit you that you were now in a life raft about to drift to god knows where. From above you heard the two men arguing back and forth over who should go next. When you saw Chris was the one climbing down the ladder you knew Harper had won.

It didn’t take him nearly as long as it took you. A few seconds later he’d jumped in next to you. The strong scent of gas immediately hit you.

“You smell like gas.”

Chris smelled himself then his eyes widened and pointed back to the ship. The two of you looked up just in time to see Harper bringing back up the ladder.

“What’re you doing? Come down!”

“No can do brother. This here is my ship and a captain always goes down with his ship.”

Your eyes widened in horror. He couldn’t be serious.

“That’s not funny Harper. The gas is leaking, there is no saving it. It isn’t worth your life. Come on, there’s time for you to save yourself too,” Chris rebutted.

“I’m long past saving,” Harper said lifting his shirt to show the large shard of glass that was sticking through his abdomen. It looked like it had gone right through him. You knew that if it were removed the chances of him living were zilch.

“Oh my god,” you mewled before clamping your hand over your mouth to stifle the wail that followed.

“Harper--,” Chris began but never finished.

“I always knew I’d die on this ship and that’s all right. I’m at peace with it. If I get in that raft with you I’d be doing you a disservice. Sharks would be on your tail in no time.”

Harper flung a pack over the railing into the raft.

“I’ve already pre-packed all the emergency packs in the raft. They’re in the side compartments as well as underneath the zipped platform of the bottom. These are things you’ll need wherever you wash up.”

Another bag followed the first and landed on the raft. “This one is some rations. Remember to conserve the water. You can survive without food longer than water.”

You cried louder while using your hand to muffle as much of the sound as you could.

“Come on man,” Chris pleaded.

Four more bags followed including your backpack. By then you’d fully lost it and had ventured into a nervous breakdown.

“Inside the raft, there is a transponder. I am going to set off the homing beacon on my ship it’ll give search and rescue some idea of where things went wrong. They’ll be able to follow the signal and rescue you no matter where you are.”

Harper bent forward and groaned. He must have been in so much pain you thought to yourself. On its own, your hand gripped the ripped hem of Chris’s tank and held it tightly. Chris glanced back at you and you saw the same anguish you felt.

“I’m sorry about this folks, I really am.” He paused and shook his head before he continued. “You have each other though.”

An explosion shook the vessel and lit up the sky behind Harper.

“That’s my cue. Get outta here. I’ll do my part. Remember live your way, it makes death a peaceful conclusion.”

With that Harper hobbled away holding the railing.

“Go!”

He disappeared from view leaving the two of you sitting in the raft, in the pouring rain heartbroken and terrified. Another explosion erupted and Chris sprang into motion yanking the cord that controlled the motor startup. He yanked it once, then twice until it sparked alive on the third try. You both looked to the ship unsure what to do. The decision had been made for you, there was nothing either of you could do but go.

Slowly the raft began to drift away from the sinking ship and neither of you could peel your eyes away. Two more explosions boomed and then Harper’s voice echoed out.

“I’m coming, Angie!”

“Oh my god,” you whispered dropping your head to the surface of the raft. Your cry was loud and showcased the tragic sadness before you.

You watched on before another and final grand explosion ripped the ship apart sending parts every which way.

“Fuck!”

Chris leapt for you throwing his body over yours using himself as a shield to protect you. The sound of flying metal around you only made you scream more and more. Still, Chris didn’t come off of you, he kept his body over yours while maneuvering the rod steering of the raft. After the sound of flying metal subsided and the warmth of fire died down Chris rolled off of you. There was nothing to be seen except the fire from the explosion that was quickly being extinguished as the rest of the ship sank to the depths of the ocean.

“Oh my god, Harper.”

“God,” Chris groaned out, dropping his head down. “Rest in peace.”

There it was. Death. It was staring you right in the face and you feared it hadn’t had its fill quite yet. Your sobs returned and soon they were the only sounds traveling across the water, along with the motor. Neither of you spoke for a few minutes as you both tried to digest everything that had just happened and how everything had gone so wrong.

“What’re we going to do?”

It was a question asked just above a whisper. A question that held so much uncertainty, a question that also brought so much fear with it. What were you going to do?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List:

@chaneajoyyy @caplover22 @caramara3 @southerngracela @cyntgefel01 @vannahvannahhh @lorainnebabyy @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @kelbabyblue @bugngiz @kikimiyazaki @toniilaney @areubeingserved @chaos-crusader @thinkxlovexloud @cocothewriter @periodtcevans @bellaamor88 @mack-jay @titty-teetee @pananegra @wellthirsted @sup3rn0va13 @nova3312 @hello-therree @valkyriesnymph @lo-cheu @squeackygee @niyashell @allmonstersxarehuman @zsuzstyina @peggy-potts @amelatonin @lvlyab @sullyosully @taylorveebee @renesmeeharelds @capslut2014 @ilovehatembj @thelittlemoistcarrot @sarcastic-sunshines @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @jesseswartzwelder @90sinspiredgirl @allnamesicouldthinkofweretaken @choices97 @jd-now-jq @actorinfluence @chrisgalore @rynabarnesrogers @ab-baybay @motivation-idontknowher @builtalongthewaysi @cleothegoldfish @momobaby227 @drsunshine97

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#hibiscus kisses fic #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x black reader #slow burn fanfic #vacation fic #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #chris evans au

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ickymichi · 3 years

Text

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐏 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒!

what’s this?: hcs of the scouts living together!

warnings: like 1 slightly nsfw one mentioned nothing serious, swearing, crack fic, modern au.

note: these hcs r probably the only thing keeping me going sidbsj. so wanted to share them with you guys, might make a more detailed part two who knows n e way, hope you enjoy! reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

first off this house will be the loudest, most chaotic place you’ll ever witness.

like they should have their own reality show.

so who’s in this hell hole?

well we’ve the two trios, eren mikasa & armin and jean connie & sasha.

six people in a house is gonna need a house cleaner to come over twice every week, and that mans name is levi. he usually doesn’t mind his job but when it comes to this house, he questions his life choices.

anyway! yeah what goes down? well let’s go through every room!

first off we’ll start with eren cause :p his room is like every other guys, sports achievement trophies on his shelf’s, signed jerseys hung on the wall and the same checkered sheets that he hasn’t changed in a while.

it’s always somehow always messy.

he does spend a considerable amount of time in their just playing on his play station, probably only comes out to get food.

and ofc he has l.e.d.s 🙄

next is armin! his is so quaint i love it

it just screams armin. books after books along his floor to ceiling book shelf, desk with every stationary you could think of. and is bed is always made and not a spec of dirt on the floor.

doesn’t spend too much time in his room and spends more time downstairs with the others.

mikasa my love <3 when i think of modern au mikasa, i think of goth!mikasa </3

her room is just such a viobe

so many plants!! and tapestries! she reads manga okay idc :( she has so much tho! her fav is romance </3 also has leds and a really funky full length mirror she found at a local store!

jean bo’s room is acc so nice. it has to be for all the girls he brings over

but yeah posters galore of his favourite anime (one piece, naruto, beck, death note etc) manga collector also!

also has his favourite band posters. he really likes posters k? doesn’t like to have plain walls

has those open wardrobe things, as well as an actual wardobe cause he has so much clothes.

and ofc, he got the leds

also he has this big ass tv and plays his music really loud off it.

connie my luuvvv!!

somehow, god only knows, mf got the biggest room when they were picking. really he just got the longest straw

anyway, his room pls, big ass bed, big ass tv, big ass wardobe AND he got a whole en-suite!

jean and eren and soo fcking jealous of his room pls.

he spends a lot of time on the play station with eren and jean. loves that he can hear eren screaming through his headphones and down the hall.

he also is a manga fanatic! but doesn’t have as much as jean yet! also don’t tell jean, but he stole a few volumes of bleach and he’s waiting for the day he noticed

also has his favourite artists and anime posters, won this really cool rengoku figure that he has in a glass case with his luffy and sukuna figures. yes, he loves collecting things.

as well as that he has an alcohol stand that has just bottles of beer to the most expensive tequila.

he has this speaker that quite literally shakes the floor and never doesn’t have music playing. even if it’s 2am that things going.

obviously got the leds

sasha </3 her room is just, you’d want to live in it that’s all i can say.

has like three mini fridges, two beside lockers all full of snacks and drinks.

her bed is the comfiest in the whole house, everyone comes into her room just to lay in it for a while.

has this really soft rug that she loves to lie on when watching tv or her laptop.

binges a lot of shows so she doesn’t come out of her room unless she wants to watch it downstairs with the others

got the leds‼️

now that we’ve seen all the bedrooms, what actually goes down in the facility?

connie or jean definitely went viral for those videos like these, they’re always on my fyp and i love it so he makes these like every few nights and they probably look like this:

armin is probably either studying or watching whatever’s on netflix

eren is most likely in his room on the ps or napping. gets annoyed every time connie comes in to record the tiktok -_-

sasha is either in the kitchen making something she saw on tiktok or in her room binging shows

mikasa is probably cleaning her room or a different part of the house or doing her make up/hair with her music v loud ofc <3

and jean and connie are either in each others rooms or fixing jeans car that keeps breaking down. with vv loud music ofc.

during the day though is like the same except the boys are probably out in the back garden playing basketball while mikasa and sasha watch on the grass catching some rays 😎

music is a reacquiring theme here bc there’s always someone blaring music.

also, jean is always bringing girls home from when him and eren go out and sasha n armin will just watch him run upstairs with her like 🧍‍♀️ 🧍 there goes another one

connie is forever scaring anyone and recording it. he has about 10 montages on tiktok of him hiding in a cupboard or even just around the corner and scaring someone. most times it’s jean cause he a scaredy-cat. did it to eren and he gave him a black eye out of ‘reflexes’

they love spending nights together sitting on the couch and watching different movies or just sitting together and talking.

dinner is spent at the table together every night and it’s honestly everyone’s favourite time of the day.

omg cleaner levi who comes to clean twice a week, connie gets on his nerves soo bad pls😭 he’s always asking him questions and being like “yo big man you need a hand?”

jean and connie spend a lot of time in each other’s rooms just sitting on the bed and scrolling through tiktok and sometimes eren joins and though the two won’t admit it, jean and eren love it when he does cause they have suuuch laughs pls i’m talking tears and sore sides.

#attack on titan #!!.keeping up with the scouts #connie x reader #jean x reader #eren x reader #armin x reader #levi x reader #mikasa x reader #sasha x reader #eren jaeger #connie springer #jean kirschstein #armin arlert #sahsa braus #mikasa ackerman #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader

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6480n · 3 years

Text

Looking for fellow creatives for a fantasy project!!

Hi all! I’m looking for other people who might be interested in collaborating on a hobby world-building project. !!Please help me find people by reblogging this post!!

[ID: Sketch of someone waving cheerfully at the viewer. end ID]

This world is designed to be the basis for a magic-based, multiplayer platformer fantasy game similar in ways to Maplestory and Fantasy Life, where the player character travels throughout various cool and magical realms. If you want to learn more about the world, please check out the information under the “read more” (I didn’t want the post to get too long).

Some stuff about me: I’m a Thai-American genetics student/researcher with heavy interests in evolutionary biology and Southeast Asian culture. I like to draw/design in my free time. I’m looking for people who are interested in contributing (to any degree), especially those who have an interest in biology, ecology, or sociology/anthropology. I would love to be able to work with other people from cultures that are underrepresented in the fantasy genre (though ofc not a requirement). No skills necessary!!! I'm able to handle all the art and visual design load on my own, I'm just looking for anyone imaginative!

I tend to be very realism-focused, so I’m hoping that input from others will help this world blossom into a more fantastical, wondrous setting. You don’t have to commit to anything--if you want, you can just hang around a bit and see if it interests you, or just provide input once in a while.

This is currently just a fun side-project that I work on in my spare time. I want to make it clear that even though I’m designing it with a videogame in mind, there really is no guarantee that it would ever get to that point, and I don’t want anyone to join with the hope that it would eventually pay off monetarily. I’ll make sure that anyone who contributes heavily will get a say in where the project eventually goes, if it turns out to last long.

Please contact me on Tumblr or Twitter to get involved! I plan on making a Discord server to keep all our collaboration in one place, invites given by PM.

[All images described in alt-text]

The premise of the world is that flora and fauna are not separate beings, but instead that all animals start their lives as plants, turn into animals, and then at death they create seeds which sprout into new plants. People also go through this life cycle--when they start out life they’re the huge, slow-growing plants that provide the structure for complex ecosystems (pine trees, kelp, huge cactuses), and then when they become people, their community cares for the ecosystem in question.

--MAIN GOALS-- - To build a work in the fantasy genre that rejects the overwhelmingly common eurocentric and often colonialist setting, as well as incredibly popular westernized systems of fantasy morality (light v. dark, demons v. angels, etc) - To portray fictional cultures in a way that highlights the incredible diversity of IRL cultures without stereotypes or homogeneity - To show the interconnectedness of everything, including showing different groups of humans as being connected with each other and showing humans as part of the environment; actively rejecting contemporary notions of “mastery over nature”

!!Everything below here is subject to change!!

Since I’m heavily interested in evolutionary bio, I built the biology of this world on the premise that life evolved much like it did on our world, starting from a single organism and blossoming out into different branches. Humans, or rather “people”, evolved multiple different times whenever a complex, dense ecosystem arose. Here are the groups of people I’ve come up with. The player chooses which species they want to start out as, and the dominant weapons or magic style of that culture determines the combat style they first learn to use. (Each group of people has multiple different subcultures, but there would be one “main” subculture that players start out in.)

Merfolk/seafolk:

Perhaps some of the earliest peoples, seafolk start their lives as kelp and inhabit the thick kelp forests that surround many coastlines. They have a love for exploration and discovery, but generally avoid encroaching on land. Their magic generally has to do with water, and the weapons they use are mechanical crossbows and heavy blunt weapons (blunt weapons integrated with controlling/redirecting the flow of water to lend force to blows). I haven’t figured out which real-world cultures to draw on for inspiration for seafolk societies, since nobody IRL lived underwater, of course. This is probably the most open-ended group of people. They’re visually based on fish and salamanders.

Frostfolk:

These people start their lives as conifers and thus inhabit the taiga and tundra. Their magic mostly has to do with ice, cold, or wind, and their main weapon of choice is spears. In this group of people, I want to have different societies: a nomadic hunting/fishing society, a nomadic pastoral society, and a more sedentary river/forest-based society. They’re based visually on dinosaurs, specifically theropods, with perhaps more bird-like features.

(No name yet):

Related to frostfolk but now geographically isolated from them, these people start their lives as cycads and live in the tropics, especially on chains of islands. Some subcultures would be highly seafaring, while some would be more sedentary and involved with metal-working and smithing. For the sedentary cultures, their magic would revolve around utilizing fire, and weaponry would be small blades made from obsidian. They are also based on theropods, but would have more vibrantly colored feathers like tropical birds.

Dustfolk:

Based on carnivorous mammals, mainly cats, foxes, and coyotes, these peoples start their lives as succulent plants like giant cacti. They inhabit the deserts and canyons of the world and live a largely nomadic life. Their magic has to do with wind/sandstorms, and their main combat styles are focused on hand-to-hand combat, utilizing claw or knuckle weaponry.

Plainsfolk/brushfolk(?):

These people start their lives as deciduous trees, generally as part of savannas, or sparse forests on mountainsides. They are based visually on ungulates, mainly deer/antelope, goats, and pigs/boars. I plan to have a semi-nomadic subculture in the dry savanna, a more sedentary agricultural society in the tropical savanna, and a mountainous society. Their weaponry would use a combination of sword and shield, and they would utilize light magic by way of reflective metal or glass.

(No name here either... they’re humans):

Finally, there would be a species of primate-based people that start their lives as broadleaf evergreen trees and inhabit the tropical jungles of the world. Many of their societies would be agricultural, with some fishing river-based cultures. Their magic would be related to monsoons and thunderstorms, especially lightning magic, and they would use long, thin blades for fighting.

---

In addition to the "main" cultures of the world, there would be many cultural centers where multiple peoples meet and trade food, goods, and technology. People will not be divided by nation borders or "species".

Currently, my idea is that combat is used to battle metaphorical representations of disease, malaise, generally bad and imbalanced things. I haven't developed this part of the storyline too much yet, I just know some thematic goals I might have.

In addition to combat (either physical or magical-based depending on the player's preference), players would be able to pursue a few different skills, like farming/breeding using a robust genetics system, tailoring/clothes-making, furniture/crafts-making, smithing, healing, cooking; as well as more "meta" hobbies like making maps and puzzles for other players to use.

Again, if you're interested in getting involved or have any questions, you can reach out to me here on Tumblr or on Twitter. If people do end up being interested, I'd like to make a small community on Discord to chat with! Edit: We do have a discord server now, you just have to ask to join!

#artists on tumblr #world building #fantasy #character building #speculative biology #brainstorming #game design #fantasy world #can't think of any other tags #ive never tried putting out a post like this before so i wonder how much of a long shot it is #spec bio #speculative evolution #ecology

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neversatisfiedwithlife · 3 years

Note

for the mostly likely to thing, i saw these questions on a glee page awhile ago, but if you want to answer them for cazzie that’d be great :p

1. Who spends almost all their money on the other?

2. Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?

3. Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?

4. Who is the most affectionate?

5. Who falls asleep in the others lap and who carries them to bed?

6. Who wakes up first?

7. Who apologizes first after an argument?

8. Who is the nerd?

9. Who makes the other one laugh the most?

10. Who sleep talks?

11. Who hogs the blankets at night?

12. Who is the neat freak?

13. Who likes to surprise the other with random gifts?

14. Who buys the healthy food in the house?

15. Who has better music taste?

16. Who takes care of the spiders?

17. Who uses more nicknames

18. Who’s the little spoon?

19. Who suggests scary movies for film night?

20. Who gets jealous more often?

21. Who brings up kids first?

22. Who borrows who’s clothes more?

23. Who cries more during sad movies?

24. Who falls asleep on the other more?

25. Who says I love you more?

26. Who initiates kisses more?

27. Who initiates hugs more?

28. Who takes more pictures of the other?

29. Who leaves notes for the other one around the house?

30. Who gets drunk faster?

31. Who gets hit on more by strangers?

32. Who makes food for the house more often?

Most likely to:

(I love that you found it on a glee page! Anyways of course I want to do them!!!)

This is long so get comfortable besties😌 I didn't proof read so all mistakes are on purpose.

Spend their money on the other: Casey would spend a larger portion of her money on Izzie or just like on things they can do together. (I think Izzie would just be engrain to make her money go as fat as it can so she's more restrained or critiac about how/where she spends her money)

Which one drives the car: this one is simple, its Casey. Do we even know if Izzie drives? (Like ideally being the one who takes care of her siblings it'd help, but anyways. Yes Casey is the driver, I can see Casey love being the one behind the wheel. Also how she was with Sam I could see her as a back seat driver or like "why didn't you take this route" just asking stuff even if she tries not to. So in the end it's just easier to have her drive lol)

Which one gives the other a piggy back ride: we saw Casey lift Izzie up so I'm obligated to say Casey! (Okay so picture after a track practice Izzie is really exhausted; the work load of school and babysitting her siblings really hitting her that week. Casey offers her a piggy back ride, Izzie is skeptical at first, but Casey is so reassuring about it)

Who is the most affectionate: ooh this one is hard overall I think I'd say Izzie, Casey more initiates kissing, but Izzie just likes to be touching Casey. (While watching tv Izzie will have her hand resting on Casey's leg, or like sit close enough to where their shoulders touch, the way Izzie stretches out herself on top of Casey when they're in her bed. Izzie initiates hand holding)

Who falls asleep in the others lap: Izzie established cannot stay up for the life of her plus again we got the cazzie bridal style carrying scene!! (I think even more cuddled up to Casey she definitely can't stay awake, she'd just feel so safe and at ease. Lights out comes quickly lol)

Who wakes up first: Izzie is up first, again this is me seeing her as the caretaker of her siblings and not going on Casey's painful track running schedule. (Ik in that one episode Casey is up first, but casey was trying to avoid Izzie, anyways Izzie probably has to get her siblings up for school or just make sure they're fed and what not so I can see her generally being conditioned to wake up first.)

Who apologize first after an argument: I feel like this totally depends on the argument; who/what started it and what it's about. Generally both are good at apologizing and don't stretch out the argument (sorry if that's like a cop out and not a definitive answer)

Who is the nerd: Izzie without a doubt (i feel like she enjoys learning new things. Maybe she doesn't necessarily love studying school material all the time, but also I feel like maybe studying started as an escape or distraction from always being her siblings care taker and soon she just learned to love it. Or just loved knowledge)

Who makes the other one laugh the most: I say Casey, they both definitely make each other laugh but Casey takes it to another level. (Like when paige is at the door and Casey is like "do you think that's them here to kick us out in person". Casey uses humor to help Izzie unwind when she's too in her head about stuff.)

Who sleep talks: Casey, why do I feel like one of them actually slept tall? Am I hallucinating...what is happening. (Anyways I feel like Casey like if she had a nightmare or something she'd mumble in her sleep and like startle awake. Or of she's really stressed and overwhelmed she's in a more restless type sleeping state)

Who hogs the blankets: (I did answer this) But Casey hogs the covers, I'll add that Izzie is fine just curling up in a ball above the blankets and fall asleep. (Why did I have the thought they're doing laundry the blankets aren't dried yet but when they finally dry Casey finds Izzie sound asleep on the blanket less bed)

Who is the neat freak: I wouldn't say either of them are nec a neat freak, but I feel Izzie would want things in particular locations and Casey can just roll with it.

Who likes to surprise the other with random gifts: Izzie, though she doesn't spend large portions of her money she likes finding small things,knickknacks or like stuffed animals or just like a sweet, that will make Casey happy. (Having younger siblings that she actively has to care for has taught her that it doesn't matter the size of the gift or if it's sparkly)

Who buys the healthy food: Casey clearly didn't approve of Elsa's green stuff sticking out of the back so definitely Izzie. (Izzie enjoys her fare share of snacks but she knows the day has to be balanced with more than "empty" calories. She is patient though in finding the healthy stuff that Casey actually likes.)

Who has better music taste: I'd say Casey in that she would have a more diverse music taste, she'd expose herself to more genres and like eras of music (Izzie feels like a whatever is on the radio or popular on the music charts-this is not slander just vibes I get lol)

Who takes care of the spider: definitely Izzie (I can see her being the person who catches and releases it while Casey is just telling her to "squish it, squish it!")

Who uses more nicknames: probably Izzie, I feel like she uses a more diverse collections of nicknames for Casey. Just like whatever fits the moment. (Casey would just use Izz, dude and a choice pet name)

Who's the little spoon: IZZIE!!! Miss curl up into a ball and fall asleep, she'd definitely pull Casey's arms to wrap around herself.

Who suggest scary movies for film night: I think Izzie is the one to coax them into actually watching a movie, but Casey is actually the one who enjoys them more or is just less put off by them? (Casey totally teases her, never goes too far, about it before the movie.)

Who gets jealous more often: I feel like this belongs to Izzie, like she has more self doubt and insecurities about how much she deserves Casey.

Who brings up kids first: Izzie does, maybe they're studying and making useless conversations, they're on the topic of her siblings. (Maybe you'd thing dealing with kids all her life and an unsupportive mom would put her off; but I think it doesn't. I feel like Casey just genuinely never stopped to really think about kids. Or maybe she thinks she wouldn't be good with kids. Like yes shes amazing with Sam, but to her that's not the same. Izzie reassures her she'd make a great parent, if she wanted to be.)

Who borrows who's clothes more: I could see Izzie borrowing a shirt or hoodie to lounge in, but I dont see it regularly. (Also Casey I noticed wears like oversized shirts often so I dont think the fit of Izzie's clothes would satisfy her.)

Who cries more during sad movies: Casey does. It is something she will deny with her entire being, but it's her.

Who falls asleep on the other more: I'll choose a specific situation for this, not a general thing: when they're talking on the phone late at night I actually think Casey would be the one who ends up falling asleep. (Ik this probably meant literally but this is where my brain went)

Who says I love you more: I feel like Casey. (I feel like for Casey the environment she was raised in it just is easier for her to say it, or it comes more naturally. Izzie uses actions to show her love because sometimes the words I love you coming from her own mouth feel foreign).

Who initiates kisses more: Casey, I think she both initiates kisses and "steals" kisses more.

Who initiates hugs more: if I say Casey with no explanation you have to accept it!

Who takes more pictures of the other: Izzie takes more pictures of Casey (I can see Casey as the person who just loves to pull stupid(affectionate) poses that make Izzie laugh. Also idk I feel like Izzie would be less inclined to have her picture taken and Casey would respect that. They would definitely take pictures together inspite of that though because Izzie wants to capture every moment with her girl.)

Who leaves notes for the other around the house: this plays into the nicknames thing, I think Izzie would leave the most cute/ridiculous notes with like the most cute/ridiculous nicknames for Casey. (Ik Casey made the tarot deck but I can just visualize Izzie doing this lol, sue me.)

Who gets drunk faster: Casey. I see Izzie as the one who has more parties in her past, and ofc she drank so she has more tolerance. Especially being at clayton longer with the track gang and Nate 🤢 (Izzie having to take a drunk Casey home early because she can barely stand on her feet securely, this is when Izzie gets to drive 😌)

Who gets hit on more by strangers: I think Izzie, she gets hit on more by disrespectful men and Casey shuts that down right quick.

Who makes food for the house more often: Izzie, I think she totally loves cooking. She loves trying out new recipes and has a bunch of cookbooks.

#omfg this was so fun!!! like seriously akskapal!!!#THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON!!🥰🥰🙌#atypical #cazzie #atypical hc #atypical headcanon #casey gardner #izzie taylor #anon(affectionate)#long post

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aries-writes-shit · 3 years

Note

Hello hi uh i hope you are doing well and are staying safe and sanitized during this whole pandemic, um I hope the matchup is still up, if not my apologies uh ig I'll get started :) (platonic or romantic is fine by me, I dont mind either or cuz I honestlydont know what I want heh...ya..) My name is Dioceline (any pronoun is fine by me but people usually go with (she/they), my nickname is Dio or Small as most of my online friends call me. I have been told that I'm very impulsive and funny but im also emotional and I stand up for what I think is right and know when to be serious. I usually take the lead of things if no one else feels comfortable enough to deal with it which has landed me into some trouble in the past but id do it again for my friends because frankly I love and appreciate them and I make sure they know it by drawing them things they love or write poems about what I love about them and what I find beautiful about them every couple of weeks. Im not very big on socializing in person but I'm very bubbly and eager to meet people online (my socialbattery does brain pretty fast so I I ti take a quick nap or go on YT for a bit before I can go back to being stupid), I'm shy at first in person but the longer you get to know me I start to get annoying and very touchy feely cuz I'm ✨touch starved✨. Im 5'7 and a half and I like to flex that I'm taller than most of my family because its known that Mexicans/Hispanics are short asf. I am a Capricorn but I don't really feel connected to my sign so I'll give you my enneagram and my mbti! I'm an Infp-T and my ennegram is 2 wing 1. My music taste is all over the place at all times and I listen to anything as long as the lyrics speak to me or the instruments sound good asf (guitars are my favorite instrument, any type of instrument with strings speak to my soul) but I have been listening to a lot of old rock singers/bands recently like Queen, AC/DC, Hombres G, ABBA, Roger Taylor, Bon Jovi, and a lot of other singers/bands. Now since I've been the middle child of 5 other siblings before my little brother was born I have developed a strange humor, it's very mixed and changes a lot but I adapt and go with the flow of anything as long as it makes people happy and laugh. I usually flirt in very awkward ways like throwing horrid pickup lines at friends or pulling the fuckboy face while saying that they look like the snack that smiles back. It's a form of breaking the ice with a people after ive concluded that I want them in my life cuz idk why but I do so ya (in a platonic way ofc). I tend to get a little overprotective and take the parenteral roll when I hear that one of my friends haven't ate or is being insulting and ir being made uncomfortable. Now for appearance, I smile with my eyes, have a cupid's bow and I have lip asymmetry on my left lip. I have a lot of beauty marks on my face and arms, I have dark brown hair and eyes. I'm on the curvier side, I have really big thighs and my chest is pretty big to so it makes it look like I have somewhat of an hourglass figure which is cool ig. I usually wear shorts and baggy sweaters that are 2 times to big for me, most of my clothes is black except for a couple of red and grey shirts/sweatshirts that I have in my closet. I love music, drawing, painting and pretty much anything to do with art. I also really like Chemistry/Science, English, and Philosophical talks, I like learning about the ocean and space but im to scared to actually go into the ocean and my family never really goes out cuz money issues and stuff but it's nice to see it on the internet. I also really enjoy the company of animals and plants :) ok I think that is all, sorry it was so long I tend to ramble and say things that aren't necessary. OH idk if this would help at all but I want to be a family therapist and will be joining the army next year after I graduate so I can get my degree without getting into terrible debt. Ok now I think that is all, hope you have an amazing day/night and stay safe!

Woah 😳, Why are yall so cool?

I think ima match you with....

C!Philza and C!Techno

Oh no, two protective anachists, what they gonna do

In all seriousness

These two are 100% very protective of you

One of them is always with you

Either making sure your safe

Or just making sure you dont do something to crazy

You play the guitar?

Expect to preform pretend concerts to Phil, Chat, Techno and all technos animals

If neither of the boys can be with you, philza's murder, Chat, as he calls them, would follow you from a distance

Phil would paint with you 100%

Techno wouldnt paint with you two, but he would watch

Philosophical talks with techno

But their like, in like the middle of the night

"Why do you think were here on earth"

"Woah, thats a good question"

Definitely would concern phil, when you two talk about the meaning of life out of nowhere.

They would definitely support your choice of becoming a therapist

And the military as well

Despite fighting for a government

#mcyt matchup #dream smp matchup

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hyuneytoast · 3 years

Text

Stray Kid’s Cafes || OT8

Summary || Stray kids if they were to own cafes!

Genre || Fluffff

Word Count || 1.7k

Note || I wrote this at 2am. (And nervous as hell to post this) I thought it was a cute idea (cause my love fore cafes u know & longing to go to one but covid-) buuuuut... if you think it’s written poorly, my excuse: my half awaken mind and questioning sleep schedule. It’s also because I’m used to writing formally rather than this. Enjoy though ヽ(ヅ)ノ

⤑Bang Chan

Inside/Theme: Dark, moody, and very spacious. Plants in macrame and outlets everywhere. Grey concrete tables with chairs of dark wood and black iron. Either lofi or jazz plays in the background. Flooring patched with large black and white honeycomb tiles. Wood of deep and mysterious browns are made for walls. Glass pendants dangle from above. Perfect for relaxing or studying. Even more perfect to visit on rainy days.

Hours: 9am - 2am

Menu: Cinnamon rolls, espresso, frappes, omelets, sandwiches, croissants (plain or chocolate), salads, raspberry scones, hot chocolate

It’s like your presence just sparked something in Chan. You were a frequent customer, so not only Chan, but other employees recognize you. It just so happened that this day was the day Chan felt braver than others. When you went up to the counter and ordered a hot latte, it was the beginning of an endless exchangement of (cringey) pickup lines. And they were all based on coffee... “If you were coffee grounds, you'd be espresso 'cause you're so fine.” (oh dear god-) The both of you realizing you don’t have all the time in the world, you finish your order but Chan refuses you to pay with money. “Giving me your number sounds like a fairer trade.” And also, starting from this day, would always be some note or saying written on the cup sleeve of your coffee.

⤑Minho

Inside/Theme: Cat Cafe! Small white stools and square tables. Windows as the walls with window sills where cats sleep. Cat toys scattered everywhere. Mini houses with beds and staircases hung on the walls. Like an indoor cat community. In the center is a giant wooden structure in the shape of a tree for cats to climb. Each one has a name. You receive a free slice of cake if you remember each cat’s name. 50% of the treats on display are just for the cats. (And of course, every cat there is up for adoption!!)

Hours: 8am - 10pm

Menu: Shortcakes, blueberry muffins, fruit sandwiches, cookies, lattes (with latte art of cats ofc), mochas, bagels, banana bread.

Scenario || You find a cat wandering the streets and get a hold of it, calling the number displayed on its tags. You eventually return it to the cafe. As a thank you, Minho freely gives you a treat off the menu and a free session with the cats. You two make time fly with endless conversations of your guys love for cats and his opinion on why cats should rule over humans and the entire world. When you're at home later that night, it’s 2am. Turns out Minho saved your number when you called for the loose cat earlier because he sent you photos of his own 3 cats. Many photos. And one with him and a funny/weird filter.

⤑Changbin

Inside/Theme || Open and welcoming, very convenient. A cafe kiosk placed in a park, sheltered by the tall swaying trees and surrounded by the small patches of blossoms. The kiosk is made of tan wood, outlined and roofed with black. The cafe space has a stretched out wooden platform next to it. Above is a wooden frame wrapped in string lighting. Iron benches and long tables. The experience is even more enjoyable during spring.

Hours || 9am - 11pm

Menu || Iced tea, matcha crepe cakes, sandwiches, mocha bread rolls, raspberry lemonade, cappuccinos, ice cream (of many flavors).

Scenario || You should’ve known it was going to rain today. It’s like the huge grey clouds were trying to warn you through the whole morning. Before the pour, though, you strolled through the park and saw the cafe kiosk and let me tell you, those mocha bread rolls sounded good (especially on a chilly day). While sitting on the benches next to the cafe enjoying the mocha rolls, you feel the sky spitting on you and it only gets more aggressive. You look around and see everyone has an umbrella. Except you. Changbin invites you to wait out the rain inside his cafe kiosk (which you gladly accept). He also notices your joy from the mocha bread rolls and decides to show you how he makes it. It was messy (since your lack of baking skills were definitely no help), but fun for the both of you.

⤑Hyunjin

Inside/Theme || A neat and cozy atmosphere dipped in traveling dreams. Walls displayed with plants draping to its heart content and photos of sceneries and dogs (which Hyunjin gladly took and displayed himself). Low tables painted with faint hues of grey, placed against the walls. Linen lounges and small glass vases of baby breaths. Large windows with window sills lined with fuzzy pillows. Towards the back, a small staircase leading to a wooden platform holding up bookshelves.

Hours || 10am - 12am

Menu || Americanos, strawberry crepe cakes, savory crepes, honey toast, fruit tarts, fresh strawberry milk, paninis, strawberry mousse.

Scenario || You’re roaming the section where the bookshelves are. Hands drifting across the aligned books and head pondering what to read. You look next to your side, taking note of Hyunjin suddenly talking to you. He asks about your favorite genres to read. He also recommends you some of his favorite literature (which you eventually discover that majority of them are poems/stories of romance) and says it be fun to read them together, along with his treat of fresh strawberry milk. Reading sessions and strawberry milk became a weekly routine for the two of you.

⤑Jisung

Inside/Theme || Shelves of pastries for you to grab and put on a tray. Filled with an aroma of sweet coffee. Simple tables and benches made of deep browns. White counters tiled with a large honeycomb pattern. Walls are of a light grey. Next to windows are woven hanging chairs with cute cartoon animal characters. On the counter is a jar of stick props for photos ‘cause why not.

Hours || 9:30am - 10pm

Menu || Cheesecake (of many different flavors), chocolate cake, iced americanos, croissants, cake rolls, custard bread, cream puffs, egg tarts, tirimisu.

Scenario || You ordered a few slices of cheesecakes after asking Jisung which ones he recommended. It was quite obvious he loved cheesecake more than anything and of course you couldn’t order just one flavor! Along with the few cheesecakes, You also ordered an americano. After receiving your drink (and cheesecake), you found a small note taped on the cup: “If you want more cheesecake suggestions, ask me anytime!” Below was a doodle of a squirrel and his phone number. AND maybe... just maybe... You take a photo of your cheesecakes to show your friend and Jisung ends up photobombing half of the photos you took (with some of the props from the counter). And of course you don’t notice until your friend starts spamming you about the guy in the background.

⤑Felix

Inside/Theme || A video game cafe, sells mainly bubble tea. Very homey with couches and bean bag chairs. A few TVs hooked up to the Switch. Simple patterned rugs and walls of a faint blue. Cute cartoon stickers displayed on walls and concrete counters. White shelves of board games.

Hours || 8am - 11:30pm

Menu || Bubble tea, brownies, cookies (of many kinds), bubble waffles, banana pudding, toast (sweet & savory), pancakes.

Scenario || You enter the cafe when it’s empty. You order a treat of your choice and make your way to play the Switch. With no other customer around, Felix decides it won’t hurt to take an extra break and play with you. (To beat you in a game or more of Super Smash Bros to be specific.) 1 game turned into countless that you both even lost track of your scores. And perhaps he got too distracted and almost missed the growing line waiting at the counter. But! Weekly video game tournaments between the two of you became something to look forward to. And maybe the two of you decided to play UNO one day and boy did the game put the two of you in a pit of raging hell.

⤑Seungmin

Inside/Theme || A comforting, more on the minimalistic side cafe. White brick walls, light grey flooring, and high beamed ceilings. Black pendant lights hanging, painting the cafe in light hues of honey. Long high tables with tall iron stools. Small potted succulents aligned on the table. White marble counters and pastries displayed in glass cake stands.

Hours || 7:30am - 10:30pm

Menu || Lattes, croissant sandwiches, chocolate mousse dogs, crepes (sweet and savory), lemon poundcake, biscuits with peach jam, homemade soups.

Scenario || Lets just say your day has been extremely hectic. For a cure, a treat from your favorite cafe sounds like a good plan. Though, you end up entering the cafe five minutes after closing hours. Great. Seungmin, who is inside cleaning up one of the tables, notices (and also recognizes you’re the frequent customer he has gotten to be friends with over his shifts). He unlocks the door and happily lets you stay after hours. You have latte (which Seungmin actually draws a happy face on the cream) and a chocolate mousse dog while chatting with Seungmin. Thanks to Seungmin’s constant invitations, late orders and chats ended up becoming regular.

⤑Jeongin

Inside/Theme || Low platform seating and low round tables. Small jars of fairy lights and daisies. Background music is either lofi or indie. Walls of a comforting dark green and floors of dark wood. Framed cute doodles and warm signs decorate the walls. High ceilings with gold lamps hanging.

Hours || 7:30am - 9pm

Menu || Milk bread, milkshakes, taiyaki (with different fillings), taro crepe cakes, fruit tea with popping boba, soufflé pancakes.

Scenario || You know that broken or no internet connection running dinosaur game (if not look it up and it’ll literally change ur life.)? Well, you brought your laptop to study but surely a game or two won’t be a big deal. And maybe playing also lended time to mentally prepare yourself just to ask for the wifi password. When Jeongin came to serve your cake order (a taro crepe cake or any crepe cake is a must try in life), he places the plate next to you and begins to speak as he notices your screen (where you keep running into pterodactyls and failing). And no, he wasn’t giving you the wifi password. “Can I try?” Beating each other’s high scores, still no wifi, and chatting. That’s how the rest of the afternoon went. (With Jeongin taking a break every now and then to help the customers of course.)

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eeemarvel · 2 years

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Are there any stories or authors that helped inspire Hero Reform (other than YOI, ofc!)?😊

Hmmmm well the truth is, since graduation (and during uni, really) i haven't had the time/energy to read as much I'd like to. I've recently started reading a lot more because I have a bit of extra time. For a while (i forget for what stretch of chapters but I think we get the one Celestino perspective in one of them lol) I was reading "the picture of dorian grey" and I noticed that influenced my writing style some.

I think my writing style and choices for the HR plot are informed by what I want to see in superhero movies. I loooooove Marvel and the DC animated universe. I've also been known to watch like, any action movie, even when it's dreadful. What I want to see more of in action movies and superhero movies are the tender moments. I want to see who the heroes' friends are and what makes them friends. I want to see who they love, what they eat regularly, how they deal with stress, how they recuperate from physical and emotional pain (and exactly what that pain looks like) because, for me, that just makes them that much more interesting. I know that realistically, seeing too much of those things in a movie aren't feasible. There's just too much plot/character development to cover in a small window of time. But that's what fanfiction's for! I think i chose YOI for a ff bc the ending is clear: yuuri and victor find life and love with each other and live happily ever after. I can take that skeleton and put the meat (the powers, plot, drama) on top, and boom: the hero story that I want. I guess, as much as I love Marvel, there aren't any heroes that I want to make a fic for. Their stories are good enough for me as is. Either that or I just don't feel the inspiration to make a fic for them.

Sorry that this isn't quite an answer to the question lol. It's just the best one I've got. If you wanna know what I'm reading, I just finished "Magic Lessons" by Alice Hoffman and the ending made me cry real tears :')

#asks #send asks #tobi asks #ask answered #hr #hero reform #writers of tumblr #yoi ff #yuuri on ice fanfcition #my writing #fic writing #yuri on ice fanfiction

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enn-tea · 3 years

Text

When I was younger, I used to play otome games, which were and continue to be hilarious for their absurdity e.g. getting transported back to the Warring States period and romancing Oda Nobunaga et al. I’d play these with my friends because of the bad storylines, and frankly questionable love interests and we’d spend all our time literally breaking down how bad these stories were, like jfc please actually do something, protagonist. Also in no way feel obligated to read this because this is just...word vomit for my own personal reference haha. Honestly don’t read this. Maybe one day I’ll turn this into some kind of actual essay about the impact on these games on wider culture or something (after I write about why romance in AOT is fine and everyone’s just reading it wrong and actually Isayama is peak romance writer and should write a massive Mills & Boon franchise around uh...some characters). But anyway.

However, amongst all of these was probably the game with the most generic concept was Wizardess Heart, which was this magic school which the protagonist attended. Over the course of two weeks, she would have to be partnered up with a “buddy” and they would help each other with their magic (they also fell in love over these two weeks LOL and quite honestly her best romantic choice was her roommate, which was never an option :( She was, for a while also the only other female character in the school who actually had a personality).

Anyway, the point is - the setting was clearly a riff on certain franchises, the whole system was super basic...but. These stories had no right to be as good as they were. Or perhaps they had every right. Because from the ones I played, they were...genuinely really interesting. Each storyline was a season, and there were three romanceable characters, who all had their own individual plotlines but...tied into one coherent plot, as either a protagonist or an antagonist, which I still find - kind of revolutionary for an otome game haha (I’m not counting Mystic Messenger bc I actually enjoyed getting to set up a bakery and cult investigation).

But honestly? These were within the universe, believable but also super crazy stories. I only ever played two “seasons” fully, because of the ticket mechanic, but the second one has literally stayed with me in terms of really interesting perspective, and the characters themselves because if the first season was mildly crazy, season two was insane and focused on these three characters: Klaus Goldstein (...no comment lmao, I do hate how he’s the figurehead of the game), Serge Durandal (the best character tbh) and Azusa Kuze (a piece of shit and not in a good way, what are the messages this game is telling us). Each season had a mystery as a premise, and the second one was about mysterious animal deaths occurring around the school.

I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to explain Wizardess Heart comprehensively, but the personal lives of these characters? Was crazy. I loved they all had cameos in each other’s storylines and were so tightly linked. Like you have Klaus who does actually have the least interesting plotline, but a shared tragic backstory with Serge (more on that later, because this is literally peak melodrama lmao). You have Azusa who comes from fantasy Japan in that universe, which has been overrun by nature spirits who are taking over because they think humans are overstepping their boundaries, and Azusa has signed a deal with one of them to bring back his dead brother, and in fact is being manipulated by visions of said brother (and even with that in context, he’s still actual trash for other reasons, and I can’t believe the happy end for his route is to get married and have kids with him EW).

My favourite character in this however was Serge Durandal who is also a premium shit-stirrer but never super maliciously haha (apparently I have a favourite character archetype I’m a fan of). Even now he’s literally the best character because he’s such a passive aggressive individual to Klaus (who deserves it). But their shared backstory cracks me up, is kind of sad and ridiculously absurd because they’re both so fixated on the past. I also personally find his storyline interesting from a character progression viewpoint, because he’s the main character’s idol when she starts at the school, but has mysteriously disappeared.

So basically in Klaus’ storyline, he always references this dead friend he’s hung up over (although the “friend” part is debatable maybe haha) and you help him investigate the dead pigeons. Ofc you then find out that polite, charming Azusa is the antagonist of the season and you have to play through the next routes in order to get a better picture of this. But throughout Klaus’ route, this character called Randy March (unfortunate name lmao) keeps on popping up. He’s funny, doesn’t treat the main character as inconvenience (best friend goals right there) but what’s more interesting is how he’s never in the same room as Klaus; as soon as he hears that he’s approaching, he just...disappears. And this continues for the whole of the story until the end, when they finally meet each other face to face, and Klaus reacts badly. Not quite in an upset way, more shocked - but it’s clear that they have a History.

So - cue “Randy’s” route. He is the same as he is in Klaus’ route, and still dodges bumping into Klaus, but then - then, they bump into each other far earlier in his route (one thing I do like about these stories is how the main character does actually have some impact on the plot. It all follows the same storyline, with the same conclusion, but they do diverge because the character happens to interact with different characters and some things can’t happen if she isn’t there for it). Leading up to this, Randy has been very cagey about being the main character’s “buddy” and insists he already has one, and he really, really gets awkward when the main character states that she really idolises Serge Durandal (who in this is like, IDK good at animal magic like the main character).

And then, my god, the reveal. The fact that Randy March is not, in fact, Randy March, but Serge Durandal (which honestly is such a cool name comparatively lol, I named all my other otome protagonists Serge Durandal). And that Randy March, is in fact, the dead friend of Klaus who Serge has been impersonating for literal years. On top of this? Serge was also a best friend of Randy, who was his “buddy” and leading up to Randy’s death, he and Klaus were involved in a rivalry over his friendship (and I’m not joking I do actually think this was some kind of unvoiced love triangle, because both Serge and Klaus genuinely say that they’re attracted to the main character because she reminds them of Randy, they need to get over this before they can actually engage in a romantic relationship with anyone else kthx. Also at some point, Serge actually says he loved Randy in a way that really can’t be construed as entirely platonic, and the main character says it as well, and considering her personality and the way she interprets things, when she says love - she definitely means romantically).

Klaus holds Serge responsible for Randy’s death, as the two were working on a project together which led directly to it. His first reaction on ever hearing Serge’s name is “the murderer” which continues all the way up until the end of the story when they resolve their character arcs (also incredibly satisfying).

Apparently the reason behind Serge impersonating his dead friend is because he felt so guilty and so ashamed and willingly accepted the blame that Klaus placed on him, he felt that if he became Randy, it would basically be like letting his friend experience the life he didn’t get to have, and he’s spent years searching for a cure to revive him. This has taken him to Hinomoto, where he’s become friends with Azusa (drawing him into the storyline) and back to the main setting of Gedonelune. Side note, Azusa, I’m not going to even go into your character because you’re such a piece of shit and I only played through your storyline because I felt compelled to get the full picture.

Ofc, this all links to the main plot - because at this time of year, there’s a whole thing related to a unicorn appearing in the nearby forest. This is a unicorn who has struck a deal with Serge years prior to the main storyline who is Serge’s last hope of reviving Randy, and Azusa finds out about this and wants to bring his brother back etc. and this all culminates in a massive showdown.

Intense.

Anyway, at the end of this, peace returns etc. and there’s a sequel I haven’t actually played but you know what’s perfect about the ending? Serge ends up staying on as a prefect - the same role as Klaus and they have to share a room. I cannot describe how funny their interactions are for the rest of the story and the other storylines they have to live together.

I’m not entirely sure what the point of this was, apart from an exercise in pinning down precisely what I liked about this story but - it’s certainly one that’s stuck with me through a LOT of otome haha.

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avengerscompound · 4 years

Text

The Tower: Family - 9

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2443

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of past child abuse

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family. When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 9: Ghost of Family Past

It wasn’t long before I felt settled in the new place. I loved the house out at the compound and I was glad we had it, but it had been so large that it still felt a lot like a hotel to me. This new layout at the tower and the familiarity of being in the place where I’d spent so much time, I felt at home. Not to mention it was nice being in the city again. We could order in food, something that had been impossible out at the compound. It was great having the big meals where we arranged them all by type and then just took what we wanted again. People had gone back to stealing things from each other’s plates. All these little habits that had been a huge part of our collective lives were coming back and I loved it even after a few days.

Things quickly found their rhythm too. Natasha and Wanda’s morning sickness was hitting hard in the morning so they were generally staying home. Wanda was in full nesting mode. She was spending a lot of time with the kids and looking at baby clothes online. Natasha was working in the office, going over mission briefings, and compiling intel. She also was adamant that we did not take the kids out without her, so she would finish work in the afternoons and take them and anyone else that wanted to go to the park and the library for storytime. Her new cloaking powers meant that they were going to be able to live a fairly normal childhood in the end. Or at least, paparazzi free.

I was mostly spending my time between the lab and home and planned to keep it that way as long as I could. So far I wasn’t getting any morning sickness. I was still really only barely pregnant, so all those signs hadn’t kicked in yet, though I was expecting them to start soon. Mostly I was just relaxed and enjoying life returning to normal.

Bucky had booked Tyr and Spotty in to be groomed and the two of us went to take them to the groomers during our lunch break one day not long after getting back. It was the first time I had gone out without Natasha since the wedding and so my first experience with the paparazzi after they got word that I had married Tony Stark.

They had been grouped around the front door and security had to push them back as we made our way out with the dogs. Mostly they were calling out my name and asking about the wedding. Some seemed to be trying to make Bucky angry for some inconceivable reason. Yelling out to him about being a second choice. Luckily he was good at keeping his reactions neutral. He just put his arm around me and pulled me a little closer.

“Should have gone out the back,” I said.

He shrugged. “They’re around there too. Just ignore them. You’re all glowy so the pics are gonna be nice.”

I giggled. “‘Cause that’s what I care about.”

“Just keep walking, don't engage. Security will keep them out of arm's length and if they get past them, they won’t have any arms when I’m done with them,” Bucky said.

“Bucky!” I scolded.

He chucked and rubbed my shoulder. “I was kidding.”

“How long will we have to worry about them?” I asked, looking back over my shoulder at the crowd following after us.

“They’re just greedy ‘cause they don’t get how the wedding thing worked. They’ll get over it soon. It’s not like they’re gonna catch us going out that way very often,” Bucky explained. “If it makes you feel any better, the dogs think they’re fucking annoying too.”

I laughed. “Oh no, babies,” I cooed and reached down and scratched Spotty’s back.

“You better pat Tyr too,” Bucky said. “He’s jealous.”

I bit back more laughter and pet the Cavalier awkwardly as we kept moving.

“Elly!”

The use of my less formal name by someone in the crowd drew my attention and I turned to see who had called out. The voice was familiar too, and yet it wasn’t until I saw who was calling out to me that I recognized who it was.

“Elly, please.” My younger sister was being held back by two security guards, looking at me imploringly. I hadn’t heard from any of my family in years. I had kept in touch with my sisters for a little while after I ran away from home, but when they started dating what my father would have considered the right people and I remained the black sheep. The last time I spoke to any of them was around the time I had been kidnapped by Madame Masque and only then was I calling my father once a month so he wouldn’t send out the police to find me.

“It’s alright,” I said the security. Bucky looked at me confused. “It’s my sister,” I explained quietly as they let her through.

He nodded. “Keep walking,” he said, his voice low and serious.

I started walking again letting Amanda catch up to me. I wasn’t sure what to say to her. Or why she was here. It wasn’t like people hadn’t known where I was for the past six years. I’d been in the media on and off since my first date with Tony.

“Tell us what you want,” Bucky said as she pulled up next to us. There was a growl in his voice. He was angry and protective and worried Amanda was here to hurt me.

“It’s okay, Buck,” I said rubbing his hip. “Let her say what she wants to say.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t keep in touch,” Amanda said.

“I didn’t exactly keep in touch either, Mandy,” I said.

She shrugged a little. “I know but I was the one that stopped first.”

I could feel Bucky tensing more and more as we walked. I slipped my hand into his back pocket and looked up at him. “It’s okay,” I said quietly. He scowled at me and nodded but he didn’t relax at all.

“So… what?” I asked. “You suddenly got into the mood to make amends and you thought rather than calling or reaching out to me online you’d stalk my home?”

“It’s not like that,” Amanda said. “You cut us all off when you started -” she waved her hand in the direction of me and Bucky. “-all of this. We haven’t been able to get through to you.”

“We?” I asked, not sure who exactly she meant by ‘we’. Then the rest of what she’d said sunk in. “Wait… what?”

“Mom and dad. They’ve been trying to get through to you, but they can’t get past your security,” I stopped walking and it took a few steps for either Buck or Amanda to realize I wasn’t with them anymore.

“El?” Bucky said, turning back to me.

“Why wouldn’t I have been told that my parents were trying to get in contact with me?” I asked.

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t know, doll,” he replied. “Would you want them to?”

“I - I -” I shook my head, trying to clear it. My brain was a jumble of thoughts that involved my abusive parents trying to get back into my life and my overprotective spouses not telling me shit that directly involved me again. “How long? When did they first try?”

“We need to keep moving, El,” Bucky said.

“When?!” I shouted. The paparazzi had all started taking pictures in a frenzy like this was the best scoop they’d ever gotten. Bucky moved to me quickly, putting his arm around my waist.

“Come on, darlin’. Not here,” he said quietly.

I nodded and we started walking again. “When was it?” I asked again.

“When they read about the wedding,” she said.

“Oh, that’d be right,” I snarked, rolling my eyes. “And you haven’t thought about me at all? You have a niece and nephew and it didn’t cross your mind.”

“Well, so do you,” Amanda retorted. “You’re hardly in a position to judge me for that.”

“You have kids?” I asked, frowning as I looked her over. She looked a lot like me. Her hair was cut short, in one of those ‘I want to speak to the manager’ styles, and she was dressed in a grey skirt suit. But aside from the styling differences between us, there was no mistaking this woman was my sister.

“Yes, three,” she said. “And so does Olivia, and so does Ian.”

“Right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

We’d arrived at the dog groomers and Bucky turned to Amanda. “Wait here,” he growled.

Amanda drew herself up, obviously not used to being ordered around by random strangers. “Now listen here…”

“No, you listen to me,” Bucky hissed. “You ambush us while we’re out walking the dogs and you think you get to run the show? I don’t fuckin’ think so. You’re gonna wait here while we drop our dogs off and then we’ll talk.”

Amanda took a few steps back like she was facing a wild animal. Bucky put his hand in the middle of my back and guided me inside. “You okay?” He asked.

“I … I don’t really know,” I admitted. I didn’t know how I felt. It was a mess.

“Tell her to fuck off then,” Bucky said, picking Tyr up and putting him in my arms.

“She wasn’t the one that hit me, Buck,” I said. “She was a kid in that house too.”

“Right,” Bucky huffed. He picked up Spotty and we carried them to the counter. We checked them in and were given some paperwork and a time to pick them back up and Bucky took me aside. “Alright, this is what we’re gonna do. We’ll take her to that bar on the corner. Get something to eat and get to the bottom of why exactly she’s here. Then we’ll get the dogs and go home and you can think about it, alright?”

I nodded. I couldn’t fault the logic. He went to move and I grabbed his arm. “Why didn’t anyone tell me they were trying to get in touch?”

“I don’t know, El,” he said. “I promise if I did I’d tell you. I’m guessing either Steve or Tony said not to let their calls come through, or they just haven’t got that far into the messages while we were away.”

“Right,” I said.

“You can ask them tonight,” he said. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise. I’m here. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

I nodded and we went out to find Amanda. She was waiting with our security detail and Bucky approached her. She took a few steps back, and I saw that same kind of terror in her eyes I always felt when I knew I was in trouble. It made me feel sick and I hurried up to Bucky and took his elbow. “Mandy,” I said quickly. “Can we have lunch? Talk this over?”

Her eyes flicked from Bucky to me and she nodded. “Yes. Yes, please.”

We walked down to the bar in silence, me clinging to Bucky’s hand. We were given a booth in the back and some of the security took a booth near us, while others waited outside. After a quick peruse of the menu, Bucky went to place an order for us. I wanted nothing more than to order a whole tray of shots and just drink myself into a coma, but thankfully rationality won out.

“Ended up with someone just like dad after all, didn’t you?” Amanda snapped when Bucky went to the bar.

“Bucky is nothing like our father,” I hissed, balling my fists under the table.

“Right, looks it,” she snarked.

I clenched my jaw as I tried not to completely lose my temper. I wanted to just yell at her that she didn’t know him and she didn’t know me. That I hadn’t ever felt safer with anyone than I had with the people I was with. But there was no point. She had her idea of what he was like and while he was in angry protective mode, that wouldn’t change.

“Why are you here? Really?” I asked. “And why now?”

Bucky returned to the table with a number, a glass of white wine for Amanda, a beer for him, and a pineapple juice for me. He sat close to me, putting his arm around my shoulders and resting his hand on my hip.

Amanda’s eyes flicked to Bucky and back to me and she let out a breath. “Mom and dad asked me to come. You’d blocked them on most things, and they tried calling the Avengers people, but they weren’t getting through. They want to see you.”

“Over my dead body,” Bucky growled.

“Buck, honey. I really need you to not do that,” I said. He huffed and took a drink of his beer.

Amanda took a sip of her wine and fiddled with the glass. “They did think about it when you were pregnant.”

“But they waited until I got a rich husband, huh?” I snarked.

“They’ve changed, Elly,” Amanda said. “Dad’s mellowed out.”

I shook my head. “Uh-huh. And the fact they’ve chosen now that I’ve married one of the most famous billionaires to get in contact is a coincidence.”

Amanda sagged a little and blinked her eyes. “Elly, I know it was harder for you than the rest of us. I know that when you ran away they just wrote you off. When it came out you were in this big -” she waved her hands again.

“Polyamorous. The word you’re looking for is polyamorous,” I hissed.

“Right, that,” Amanda said. “He completely lost it. Said it was going to look bad on them. That if people found out he’d lose his position.”

“You’re not spinning it in his favor there, Mandy,” I deadpanned.

She sighed. “I know, but… he’s your dad. And they’re your kid’s grandparents. They’re really good grandparents.”

Bucky stiffened up. “If you think for one second, I’m letting my kids near that monster…”

Amanda leaned over the table and put her hand on mine. “Please, Elly. Consider it. For me.”

There was a fear in her eyes and I looked down. There was a thread that joined me to her. It was very faint and hard to see with all the other much brighter ones. I looked at it and I knew… we were family and I was going to have to meet with my parents.

// NEXT

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buckyswinterbaby · 3 years

Text

Always By My Side — Chapter 1

Click here to read the Prologue.

Synopsis: The fates have spent millenniums correcting the daily mishaps that interfere with soulmates ever meeting. Will they find a way to bring together Bucky and Zara, two people separated by time and circumstance, just as they’ve done a thousand times before?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Black!OFC Ziarah Heartwell

Warnings (will change with each chapter): flashbacks, PTSD, mentions of past sexual assault, angst, bits of fluff

Word Count: 3,791

Acknowledgement: I’ve created this AU alongside my best friend Taylor in roleplays, along with many of the plots and scenes that will be featured. I’m posting this with his expressed permission as we both continue to work on the story in our chat. Credit for its creation goes to both of us.

Please like, comment, and reblog (I love that shit). The divider was created by me, please credit me if you use it. The gifs are not mine. Click here to fill out the form to be added to my tag list!

Note: Here’s chapter one of my new series “Always By My Side”. It takes place in a soulmate AU where a bond is triggered when one or both halves experience a life threatening level of distress. The bond allows them to see imaginary versions of their soulmates to help support them while they wait to meet their other half. Just a warning, up until we reach the current time in the story, there will be significant time skips for plot progression’s sake. The time changes will always be labeled.

Addition: I said I’d tag you when I posted my WOC OFC story so here’s chapter one, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer !

[Bucharest, Romania -- 2016]

The Romanian streets were bustling with early morning energy as Bucky took the final steps outside of the clearly worn apartment complex that he had been calling home for sometime. He seemed unfazed by the sixteen year old girl practically jogging to keep up in step with his longer strides. He had grown rather accustomed to her presence and her commentary since she first appeared to him in 2014. It had been during his final brainwashing session with Hydra before they fell. He couldn’t help but view her as a banshee of sorts, harkening the end of what remained of his mental stability. He couldn’t fathom another reason as to why he would hallucinate an opinionated teenage girl.

Even so, he found comfort in their conversations and how at ease she seemed around him. Almost as if she had always been with him, a piece of himself that still saw the good that was left. Never addressing him with fear or apprehension, never as the monster and killer he was forced to become.

Her features were young and innocent, seemingly unscarred by life despite the bruises that graced her skin--which he was never sure why they existed. At first, he feared that she had been one of his countless victims who had returned to haunt him in her afterlife, though the theory became less likely to him as more time passed.

The defined coils of her hair were pushed up into a messy bun, edges laid smoothly to her forehead in defined loops. When she first started showing up, Bucky had attempted to make sense of the witty phrases and references that so frequently adorned her clothes but he had long since given up on ever understanding them. He had to admit that the shirt she wore that day, a middle finger painted with pink, yellow, and blue, was quite the fashion choice. Not that he could particularly judge with his similar pieces of clothing that were practically identical besides in color.

The pair made their way down the familiar stretch of pavement on their way to the outdoor market that Bucky had made a habit of visiting. He had found that a reliable schedule throughout his week helped him better grasp the passing of time, a fact that his companion had been informing him of for weeks before it finally seemed to click.

The girl’s nose clinked as they neared the fresh fish stand, just as it did every week. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at her childish antics as they were so few and far between for someone who seemed quite mature despite her appearance.

“It smells like cat food,” she whined, making a clear act of breathing primarily through her mouth as she jogged to keep up. “How are you not gagging?”

“Not all of us have the luxury of being a figment of someone’s imagination, Zara. If I start gagging, I have a feeling a few people will start to notice.” The man gave her a knowing look. Drawing attention to himself was the exact opposite of what he wanted during his brief outings. “Besides, I can’t say I’ve smelt cat food or have any intention to. So I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

Zara rolled her eyes as the smell began to dissipate the further they moved past the stand, her trademark smile working its way onto her features. “Could’ve had me fooled, I thought that was your guilty pleasure. I can’t say I’ve ever intentionally gotten a whiff, but when I feed the outdoor cats at my house, it’s kinda unavoidable.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as if it was the most natural thing in the world for an imaginary person to have their own home and animals.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as he narrowed his eyes down to her smaller form beside him. “You don’t have a cat because you aren’t even real,” he retorted. Somehow the idea that she could be real made her presence in his life even harder. The idea that she was just some girl he had passed by in the street or on a mission and his brain decided she’d make the ideal emotional support apparition.

“Who are you to declare that?”

“The creepy hundred year old man who hallucinates a sixteen year old girl, occasionally in her pajamas, for one.” His voice raised a bit louder than he intended, drawing the attention of a few nearby pedestrians. Bucky offered them an awkward smile before ducking back down under the bill of his hat and picking up his pace a bit. She couldn’t argue with his logic so she focused on keeping up until they reached their destination, the produce stand that had the best plums in the city, or so Bucky described.

Zara watched as he spoke Romanian with the merchant, only catching a few words she had learnt over the past few months from their conversations. She couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly Bucky seemed to interact with the man and how it contrasted so starkly to how he acted when he first arrived in the city. Decades of next to no positive human interaction left the soldier awkward and clunky in his exchanges, often stumbling through questions and requests, or simply forgetting them altogether. It had taken a great deal of patience and metaphorical hand holding to build up his confidence and ease his anxiety on the matter.

It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to blend in, in fact he was almost too good at it at times. Over their conversations, she had managed to show him that yes, blending in made him go through the motions of life, which was better than nothing. Yet, the beauty of his life now and the freedom that came with it was that he no longer had to settle for simply surviving and he could instead use it as a chance to learn to live again. It started small, like convincing him to get a pillow and blanket for the mattress on the floor, to which they compromised with a sleeping bag. Soon came two pillows for the couch and a lone floor lamp that he shoved in the corner near his bed for the late nights when night terrors had him scribbling away in his journals. They were minor improvements, in truth, but the progress spoke volumes as Bucky worked on building a place that felt a bit more permanent than his last few hideouts.

Zara had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even registered that Bucky completed his purchase and had moved to stand at the edge of the sidewalk. She approached him curiously, watching the way he hesitantly analyzed the seemingly anxious newspaper peddler from across the street. It was very clear something was wrong from the way his demeanor had changed.

“Buchanan?” Her voice raised a bit at the end of his name, concern now replacing her curiosity as he began to make his way to the stand. He either didn’t hear her--which she found unlikely--or he simply opted to ignore her as he picked up the paper, ocean blue eyes scanning over the headline. The color seemed to drain from both of their faces as they took the accusation in, not having to speak to know what it meant.

Bucky would have to pick up his life, yet again, and run. Find a new country, new home, and start the process all over again. The ex-assassin hardly seemed surprised at the realization, as there is no rest for the wicked.

[Boston, Massachusetts -- 2016]

Zara made her way down the hallway to her bedroom, an imaginary version of Bucky trailing along behind her. She let her book bag drop to the floor once she entered the room, stepping out of her shoes before flopping down onto the soft, sunflower themed duvet of her bed. A look of weightlessness overtook her features as she let the events of the day settle in. Today she would graduate with a PhD in Biomedical Engineering from MIT, top of her class. It was the culmination of years of pouring herself over every textbook her parent’s provided, testing out and early graduations. At only sixteen, Zara would join the ranks of some of the youngest individuals to ever receive a doctoral degree. It truly seemed unreal to her.

Emerald eyes drifted to where Bucky sat at her desk, his arms crossed loosely in front of his chest.

“I wish you could be there tomorrow,” Zara commented, propping herself up on her elbows as her fingers pulled at the frayed threads on the yellow quilt folded at the end of her bed.

A smile teased the corner of Bucky’s lips as he leaned back against her swivel chair, long hair swaying as he tilted his head to the left to look at her. “I will be there, maybe not in person, but I’ll be there cheering right along with everyone else,’ he assured.

“It’s not the same and you know it, Buchanan.”

“I know. Just try to focus on the positives. Tomorrow is your day, you’ve more than earned it.”

Zara nodded, though her disappointment was still evident. On the average day, Bucky’s seemingly invisible presence to everyone else but her came in handy. As she was willing to bet her parents wouldn’t be too keen on the amount of time she spent alone with the grown man, let alone if they knew who he was. The public’s perception of James Buchanan Barnes, who she had quickly identified him as, was low to say the very least. Though it was days like this that she found herself wishing the most that he could truly exist in her life outside of her mind.

She could never quite pinpoint why she began hallucinating him two years prior. Though, the time before and after her fourteenth birthday had flown by in a post traumatic daze so it was even more difficult to analyze. The aftermath of four older boys assaulting her in her own bedroom left her wishing to repress that portion of her life altogether. Zara squeezed her eyes shut as she felt the ghost of their hands on her body. Grabbing, groping, pulling and tearing at clothes. She had hardly seen them since their attack but her mind was still trapped in the room with them.The feeling took her back to meeting Bucky that night, or more so the Winter Soldier, as he appeared at that time.

Upon entering her room, Zara failed to notice the masked man sitting silently in the corner of the room, illuminated only by the small lamp on her bedside stand. When she caught a glimpse of the figure, her body jumped to it’s fight response, just as it had an hour or so before. The young girl grabbed the closest thing she could find, a textbook on advanced chemistry, and held onto it tightly before turning to face the intruder.

“You need to leave,” she ordered, her voice wavering at the end of the demand. Her green eyes only met a pair of dark glasses securely strapped to his face. She couldn’t make out any facial features to identify him by, as all but his forehead and hair was covered.

It wasn’t just his silence that sent an unnerved shiver down her spine. It was his demeanor, cold and nearly unresponsive to her presence and defensive stance. Had his head not briefly turned her way when she started to speak, she’d question if he even heard her at all.

A large gun, likely a rifle from what she could tell, was resting across his lap. His hands weren’t actively gripping it, but something told her he could take aim in the time it took her to breathe her next breath. A variety of handguns and knives were also visible from the holsters adorning his thighs. If he had this many weapons visible, Zara could only imagine how many he had stashed under his tactical vest and heavy boots.

Her green eyes followed where she believed his gaze had drifted. He seemed laser focused on the strip of light just barely visible from under her door as a roar of laughter could be heard from just outside. His hand moved to rest just over the barrel of his gun. The young girl analyzed him for another moment before lowering the textbook, while still keeping it tightly in her hands.

“Will you at least tell me why you’re here?” There was a hint of desperation in her voice, one that vocalized all of the fear she had been trying to hide. She was met with more silence, which quickly became deafening to her. She was afraid to make a move to get his attention again, naturally unsure of how he would react. Yet, at the same time she couldn’t relax, not with him in her space.

After another few moments of no response, she allowed herself to consider the possibility that he wasn’t actually there. She had just been through something horribly traumatic and it was entirely possible that this was her brain's way of coping with the stress and fear. That it had conjured some masked figure to sit at her bedroom door and keep all the bad away.

She knew how best to test her theory, but she recognized the risk that came with it as she picked up a neon pink highlighter that she had been using earlier that night. She gripped it for a moment while weighing her options, throwing it across the room only seconds later. She didn’t put too much force behind it, hoping that if it gently came into contact, he’d be less likely to be angry. The consideration meant very little as the marker passed straight through the man and knocked against the wall before falling to the floor. She watched as it rolled across the floor and disappeared underneath her nearby dresser, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. On one hand, he wasn’t real and couldn’t hurt her. On the other, she was truly alone and definitely going crazy.

“This is fine,” Zara tried to reassure herself with very little luck.

She was pulled back from her thoughts as Bucky called her name for the third time, snapping her back to reality. Their eyes connected for a moment as she attempted to ground herself again, focusing on the small changes between how he was now versus then.

He had since lost the mask and goggles, she remembered him removing them a month or so after he first appeared. His current casual attire contrasted starkly with the hard kevlar of the tactical vest she first met him in. His features were more at ease now, no longer reflecting the fear that she could only compare to an animal in captivity. While she wasn’t fond of the comparison, following what she had learned of the real James Barnes, it wasn’t entirely far off.

As if the world was reading her mind, she faintly heard the voice of the local news anchor from the living room directly below her bedroom. Her features scrunched as she focused in on hearing the report, only catching snippets here and there. The words explosion and Sokovia Accords were most of what she could make out along with what she could’ve sworn was the suspect’s name, James Buchanan Barnes.

Before Zara could even question it further, she found herself racing down the main staircase of their suburban home, sock clad feet skidding to a halt on the polished dark oak flooring. Her eyes widened as she took in the security camera footage that was believed to place Bucky near the scene of the crime. Despite having no real proof, something deep within her gut screamed that it wasn’t true. She knew him, maybe not the real version, but he’d never do that.

Imaginary Bucky followed her into the living room a minute later, his pace slow and relaxed in comparison as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Being held responsible for the most recent atrocity was honestly just beginning to feel like the average Tuesday to him. More than anything, it was Zara’s reaction that took him the most by surprise. Her unwavering faith and loyalty was unexpected and as he believed, undeserved.

He had committed unspeakable acts over the years and this was likely far from the worst he was accused of. Sure, they had grown close in the two years since he first appeared and he imagined that made it easier for her to block out the rest of the stories, since she knew at least some version of the person in question.

Zara was good, in every sense of the word. Of course she had flaws, but who didn’t, especially at sixteen. But he saw the way that she looked at the world with love and curiosity despite the violence and violations she had experienced. It was a strength of character that he truly wished he could grow to embody. Bucky couldn’t help but find it funny that he was left looking up to a teenager who hadn’t even passed her driver’s test yet; but she honestly had more morals and heart than most of the adults he had met in his life. All of those facts being true is what made her belief in his innocence all the more confusing.

His eyes fell to her father, Gabriel, as he sat on the couch to take in the evening news. The man’s head shook in what seemed to be disappointment, or maybe it was anger, Bucky honestly couldn’t be sure anymore. They had never spoken, as Bucky’s intangible form made communication with anyone other than Zara impossible, but he knew Gabriel was a black and white kind of person. He couldn’t help but accept that to anyone who didn’t know him, the evidence would be damning.

“They need to just put him down while they have the chance,” Gabriel scoffed, speaking to no one in particular while switching the flatscreen off before they could finish the broadcast.

“He’s not a wild animal to be euthanized.” Zara’s expression twisted in disgust at her father’s casual nature. “He’s a human being. If he's guilty, and that’s a really big if with how blurry that security footage is, he deserves a trial just like anyone else!”

Gabe turned to look over the back of the couch, clearly displeased that she would defend the man. “I’m in no mood to debate with you, Ziarah.” He rose from his seat and dropped the remote onto the foot stool before leaving towards his study.

Zara watched him leave, her eye practically twitching with each step he took. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, to make him see that there were likely more sides to the story than they were seeing but she knew that it was useless. Her father rarely took her opinions or beliefs to heart on things that actually mattered to him, a topic like this would truly be a lost cause.

She looked up at Bucky as he shook his head lightly, letting her tension fade away as she accepted that it was pointless. “It’s okay, Zar,” Bucky assured, his small smile wiping away any lingering doubts she had. “There are more important battles to pick with him. This isn’t a hill worth dying on.”

Zara would’ve liked to argue that defending her friend was more than a worthy cause but she nodded nonetheless.

“How about we go find your mom. I bet she’s already working on the cake for your graduation and knowing you, you can convince her to let you lick the spoon.” His tone was playful as he coaxed her into motion, the promise of sweets and a friendly face luring her into the kitchen behind him.

Hanna was busy mixing away the different batters she would need for the next tier, the sweet aroma of baked goods filling the air. She hummed lightly as she worked, creating her own personal mix of her favorite 80’s songs together in a unique medley. Her green eyes moved to the doorway as she heard Zara walk in, a bright smile overtook her features as she set down her mixing bowl.

“There’s my little scholar,” she praised, moving around the kitchen island to take her daughter into her arms. Her warm embrace was a welcomed escape as Zara melted.

“Momma,” Zara grumbled as her mother placed a series of kisses on her forehead. “I thought you stopped doing that since I was a baby.” While Zara whined, deep down she always loved her mother’s open displays of affection. Not that she was willing to admit it.

“That’s the beauty of you always being my baby. You’re never too old for me to embarrass you. Just be grateful that I’ve opted to do it now instead of at your party.” The woman grinned away as she moved back to her work.

Zara honestly couldn’t argue with the logic as she found a seat on one of the tall bar stools. She quickly lost herself in the pleasant conversion with her mother, happily opting to clean the excess batter and frosting off of the bowls and mixing spoons like the helpful child she was. Imaginary Bucky sat quietly at the kitchen table, watching the women as they fell into the usual banter and discussion. After they finished her conversation she quickly grabbed a snack and made her way towards the door.

“I believe you’re forgetting something,” Hanna reminded, sending Zara a knowing look.

She huffed lightly before turning on her heels to grab her blood testing and insulin kit, waving it at her mother knowingly. She quickly turned back around and left the kitchen, making her way back upstairs.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to follow after her, stopping only when he saw Zara staring in her old room, which now housed her older brother Daniel. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind as she ran over the events that more often than not had her scurrying past said room without acknowledging it. It was easier to just pretend it didn’t exist.

A few more moments passed before Zara pulled herself back from the darker parts of her mind, focusing in on everything else in her life that was good and worth celebrating. She had known pain and a time in her life where she often considered if it would’ve been easier to just fade away, but she had made it through to the other side. She had a lot going for her now and that was enough to push her feet forward again.

Chapter 2

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chelsfic · 4 years

Text

Tear You Apart - Dracula/OFC One-shot

A/N: I wrote this in response to a post from @dracula-s-bride in which they requested a “one shot where [Dracula] fucks OC’s brains out into oblivion.” My filthy mind immediately went to the scene at the Convent and Dracula fucking a nun amidst the carnage he’d created. So…that’s what I wrote. I really just wanted to spend more time in the head space of that scene. Unapologetic, much? YIKES!

Warnings: Murder, Non-con, Blood drinking (I mean…)

Rating: Explicit as hell

Sister Evangeline averts her gaze as the demonic form stalking outside the convent gates manifests into the shape of a very tall, very naked man. She fixes her eyes to the weathered cobbles and tightens trembling fingers round the wooden stake in her hands. Her arms are tucked close to her body, her shoulders hunch forward in an unconscious attempt to make herself appear smaller to avoid the predator’s notice.

She’s never felt such visceral fear in her life. It’s so intense she thinks she will either faint or be sick. Her sisters feel the same. Waves of terror pass from one nun to the next at the man’s words and actions. Had she not personally witnessed him crawl forth from the wolf’s twitching body she might take him for a madman. But as the confrontation between him and Sister Agatha plays out she learns he’s something far more frightful.

Count Dracula. The devil incarnate.

Once she allows her eyes to wander upward she finds she cannot look away. His naked skin glows in the light of the torches as if kissed by hellfire. His lips spread in a feral smile as he flicks his eyes from one stunned face to the next finally settling on hers and holding her captive in his hypnotic gaze. His voice rings through the courtyard, addressing them all, but his eyes stay focused on Evangeline.

“The first one to invite me in stays at my side!” he announces. “The others I will tear apart and LADIES! I will. Take. My. Time. One should never rush a nun…”

An icy shiver creeps down her spine at his words and she feels her feet moving of their own accord, stepping forward as her lips part to speak the words. Count Dracula’s smile widens and his eyes blaze in anticipation but Sister Agatha interrupts before she can utter the invitation that would doom them all. Agatha’s bold intervention saves her and Evangeline falls back in line with the others, panting in shock at the sin she’s nearly commited. Lord, save me, she prays to a resounding, oppressive silence from the cosmos.

Once Agatha has turned the demon away the sisters gather in the chapel for prayer. Mother Superior stands before them and her words are uplifting, inspiring, an answer to the emptiness she’s felt inside when her prayers go unanswered. She must look within herself for the voice of her God. She must find His strength in her own strength.

It’s a moment of pure serenity and peace after the misery of the confrontation outside. She bows her head in a prayer of gratitude just as the echo of sharp footsteps sounds from the corridor. Evangeline looks up in time to see the monster, Count Dracula, standing inside the chapel holding Mother Superior’s severed head aloft, grinning in delight as the nuns begin a chorus of screams.

Evangeline’s throat closes shut, she wheezes and gasps desperate to drag air into her lungs but her body shuts down in panic. Dracula stands before them, resplendent in his tailored suit and long, dark cape. The perfect image of a refined gentleman. Yet his actions and words are savage. He tosses the head into the crowd of terrified nuns, taunting them with their own impending death. Evangeline crouches on the stone floor, cowering beneath a pew. Some of her sisters are braver than she. They stand up, wielding their crucifixes against the vampire. At first it appears effective but Evangeline watches the Count from her hiding place as he settles casually into a chair, spreading his cape beneath him and leaning back with an air of one about to take in a show.

“So…” he begins, in a conversational tone as if holding twenty nuns hostage and threatening their lives is an everyday occurrence, “I suppose I’ll just have to control myself. But–between you and me–controlling wolves is just so much more fun…It’s a question of who you’d rather have tear you apart, I suppose. You have a choice of course. I’m undead, I’m not unreasonable.”

At his words the first howls begin sounding from just outside the chapel doors. Evangeline climbs farther under the pew, tucking her legs in close to her body as she watches a whole pack of wolves race by her and begin lunging at the crowd of nuns in the center aisle. Her lips tremble and a wail of sorrow escapes her throat before she slaps her hands over her mouth, muffling hysterical sobs. From her spot beneath the first pew she can see only the Count’s gleaming, polished shoes and the bottom of his cape. But she hears everything. The screams, the moans, the horrid ripping sound of teeth rending limb from limb. It goes on for hours. Or minutes. She can’t be sure. The whole time she lays curled in a ball, rigid and terrified of making a single movement or sound that would attract attention.

It ends with a resounding, chilling silence. Evangeline is frozen in place, desperately trying to control her heavy breathing. She can see the dead, glassy eyes of Sister Camille staring at her from the place she’d fallen mere feet away from her. She hears the low whines of the wolves, the soft padding of their paws over the flagstone floor. And she sees Count Dracula’s well-shod feet. He hasn’t moved from his seat at the front of the chapel.

Evangeline moans in terror when she addresses her, “You can come out now, little one.”

She doesn’t move an inch. She could not move even if she wished to do so. Her muscles are rigid, her limbs locked into place. With no point in further concealment she finally allows herself to cry. The wolves quirk their ears and lick their lips as they catch the soft sounds of her cries and the rich scent of her still-flowing blood.

“Now, now, Sister, do as you’re told. Unless you’d like me to have one of my pets drag you out from under there…” Dracula sounds intrigued by the idea.

Mustering all of her remaining strength, Evangeline crawls out from under the pew, exposing herself to the gleaming predator gaze of both wolf and vampire. She spider walks backward until her back meets the chapel wall, putting as much distance between herself and them as she can. The wolves are held at bay for now. There are six of them and they stand immobile around the Count. Awaiting his command.

She looks up into the vampire’s face, quaking at the sight of his cruel smile and cold eyes.

“Tell me your name,” he commands, rising from his seat and stalking toward her. His cape flows into place around him lending even more severity to his already intimidating height. He walks until the tips of his polished shoes brush the fabric of her habit. Evangeline is forced to crane back her neck to meet his eyes as she addresses him.

“My name is…” she tries to inject her voice with Sister Agatha’s bravery, “Sister Evangeline of St. Mary’s Convent.”

Dracula smirks down at her and holds out a hand before her tear streaked face. Evangeline stares at it for a moment, the long, elegant fingers tipped with wickedly sharp points. Drawing in a shaky breath she reaches up and places her small hand in his. She half expects him to crush her hand in a bruising grip, but he merely tightens his hold gently and assists her in getting to her feet.

“Evangeline,” he stretches out the syllables on his tongue, “I’ll give you the same offer I gave the others: Who would you rather have tear you apart, darling? The wolves? Or me?”

His hand on hers effectively holds her in place as the wolves circle them, baring their teeth and growling low in their throats. Evangeline’s eyes flick wildly back and forth, dancing between the genteel murderer before her and the hungry wolves all around. One of the wolves lunges forward and snags the edge of her habit in his powerful jaws, tugging the material and starting to pull Evangeline away.

“No!” she screams, reaching out her hands to clutch at the vampire’s sleeves. “No, no, please, not the wolves.”

Dracula’s face lights with pleasure and he dismisses the wolf pack with a wave of his hand. The animals slink out of the chapel leaving Evangeline alone with the monster. He steps into her personal space, gathering her up in his arms and holding her to his chest in a parody of a lover’s embrace.

He bends his head forward to whisper into her ear, lips brushing sensuously against her skin, “I hoped you’d choose me, Evangeline. I knew there was something special about you.”

Evangeline quakes, her knees grow weak and she sags bonelessly into his arms.

“P-Please, Count Dracula,” she hisses, all thoughts of brave martyrdom fleeing her head. “Spare me.”

Dracula rolls his eyes at her and scoffs, “Don’t be boring, Evangeline. I can stomach a lot of things but not boring.”

She watches, wide-eyed as he raises a hand and softly unfastens the neck piece from her garment. The cowl and veil fall to the ground allowing soft waves of auburn hair to spill over her shoulders.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes drawn to the hollow of her throat, the flesh pulsing with the erratic rush of blood beneath the surface. “Now, I’ll need you to try to calm yourself, Evangeline. Panic tends to sour the taste…”

He draws her closer into his arms all the while Evangeline is looking round for a means of escape. She struggles in his grip but Dracula puts a stop to that with a bruising squeeze of her upper arms and and a sharp hiss of annoyance. She hears the wolves in the courtyard echo him with their mournful howls and knows in her bones that there is no escape. No hope. She stills then, eyes shutting against tears.

Dracula leans back and unclasps the cape from around his neck, spreading the billowing cloth onto the cold flagstone floor as a makeshift blanket.

“Come, now,” he beckons, sitting down on the rich velvet lining of the cloak. “Sit with me for a while.”

Evangeline kneels down next to him on the cloth, relieved not to have to support herself on weak knees any longer. Even sitting down the Count looms over her. She looks up into his face and…simply waits. She is completely under his power and his earlier words have made her afraid even to beg for mercy. The Count brings a hand up to her face cupping her cheek and running his fingertips across her lips, over her chin and settling around the base of her neck. He feels her pulse raging under his touch as he begins to speak.

“It won’t hurt. I’ll make it like falling asleep into the loveliest dream. Won’t that be nice?” he soothes, gently rubbing his fingers against her pulse point, holding her wide-eyed stare. “I’ll hold you in my arms, place a kiss on that lovely throat, and then you’ll be gone from here. No pain. No fear.”

Evangeline’s pulse still thunders under his fingers and her breathing is erratic. With a sigh Dracula places a hand on her chest and gently pushes her back until she’s lying on the cape.

“Well,” he says, propping himself up on an elbow to lean over her, “I have a little bit of time. No need to rush.”

He slides his palm over the fabric of her habit, dragging it over her breasts, her waist and settling on her hip where he kneads the flesh with a possessive touch. He bends forward and brushes his lips over hers in a slow, tender kiss. Evangeline’s breath catches in her throat, her thoughts stuttering to a halt as he continues the kiss, stroking her plump lower lip with his tongue, probing inside her mouth. He buries a hand in her hair, tangling in the soft locks as he gives her her first…her last kiss.

“There, now,” he mutters into her lips. “See how nice it can be, Evangeline? We can’t let you die a virgin, can we?”

With this last question he starts hiking up the skirt of her habit and bunching it round her hips. Evangeline feels a flash of alarm that lasts a second before he’s reaching underneath and cupping her sex in the palm of his hand. She gasps at the intrusion, at his bold, confident touch. It sends a thrilling shock wave through her body and she feels herself arch involuntarily into his touch for a second before recalling herself and shrinking back slightly.

The Count is relentless in his ministrations, though. He strokes his long, elegant fingers against her through the fabric of her drawers, pressing the heel of his palm into her sensitive mound in a rhythmic motion, kindling a sweet ache inside her that pulses and stutters. She pants and moans, writhing under his fingers and looking up at him in a look that mingles arousal, awe and horror. Dracula smiles down at her, reveling in the nun’s undoing.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises as he snakes his hand up and under the waist of her drawers, delving into the wet apex of her thighs. “Do you want more, Evangeline?”

He pauses and lets his fingers hover over her hypersensitive flesh awaiting her response. Evangeline turns her face away, staring up at the crucifix on the wall and gasping in frustrated pleasure. She wants more. God save her.

“Yes,” she whispers, eyes still trained on the image of her Savior, witness to her sin.

Dracula grasps her chin in his fingers and turns her to face him, his eyes blazing with intensity, “Tell me.”

Evangeline’s cheeks flush a bright crimson of humiliation and shame as she says the word more firmly, “Yes.”

The vampire’s lips spread in a wicked smile and he caresses her face almost lovingly, “You really are something special, Evangeline.”

He places a soft kiss on her lips and then slithers down her body, disappearing beneath the folds of her habit. Evangeline’s eyes widen and her mouth falls open when she feels him slide off her drawers and press his mouth against her. He licks, kisses and strokes her in her most intimate place. The slip of his tongue against the tender bundle of nerves at her apex causes her to buck in shock and pleasure and she’s mortified to find that she’s reached down to run her fingers through his thick, black hair, holding his mouth in place against her and urging him to continue with his kisses until she feels the waves of pleasure within her quiver and suddenly peak.

As the nun shivers through her orgasm, Dracula sinks his fangs into the inside of her thigh, tapping the femoral artery and gorging on the rich blood that floods his mouth. His fingers dig into her hips, holding her still as he feasts. He tastes the wanton pleasure coursing through her veins, the sweet tang of wonder at the new feelings inside her, and the hollow echo of shame she experiences at breaking her vows. He takes it all in, drinking her soul and stealing her essence. The tension in her body ebbs as the orgasm passes and the blood loss starts to weaken her. Dracula pulls back, his mouth splashed with the bright red stain of blood, and crawls up her body.

Evangeline’s eyes are closed and her head is thrown back, a soft smile on her lips. She looks utterly debauched and…perfect. Dracula bends down and captures her lips in a slow kiss, forcing the taste of her own blood into her mouth.

“Are you ready now, Evangeline?” he asks, brushing his lips over hers as he speaks. He runs his fingers through her hair in a touch that’s gentle and almost comforting. His eyes are soft, a mockery of sympathy and caring as he looks down at her.

Evangeline looks back at him, still fuzzy in the aftermath of pleasure and nods her head slowly. She’s ready. Ready for what, again?

Dracula shifts his body until he’s hovering over her, his hips aligned with hers and his face tucked into the crook of her neck. He reaches down to free his straining cock and she feels the press of him against her, the stretch and sudden fullness as he pushes forward, the echo of a stinging pain as his fangs pierce the skin of her throat. And then she’s lost again on waves of bliss.

Dracula writhes over the nun’s form, lost in his lustful frenzy and pounding her ruthlessly as his teeth tear into her neck. He’s under a spell, overwhelmed by the eroticism of her hot, pulsing blood flowing over his tongue as he sheaths himself in her tight little cunt. He reaches his hands down to cup her buttocks, kneading the soft, round flesh with his razor sharp claws.

Evangeline is far away. She’s conscious of the pleasure of the vampire’s kiss and the blissful burn of surrender as he takes her virginity. But she’s dreaming too. Dreaming of the fields in springtime. The yellow flowers and the big, fat bees that spin lazily in the air. Dreaming of her father’s house, he’s still alive and they are so happy. The images are conjured, injected with the vampire’s venom, but they are beautiful and comforting. She clings to them as the images begin to blur and the colors bleed together. Her body feels so, so far away now.

Dracula groans in pleasure as he releases her from his “kiss.” He arches back and spills his seed inside her, coming with a final, ferocious thrust of his hips. His little nun is barely conscious and whimpering in her sweet slumber. He carefully pulls out, tucking himself back into his trousers and sitting back to regard her little body. Not yet a corpse. Still enough life left in her…

He stands and wraps the girl in the rich red and black fabric of his cloak, picking her up and cradling her to his chest.

“Sweet little nun,” he whispers into her hair as he places a kiss on her forehead. “I’m going to make you last.”

#dracula x ofc #dracula x oc #dracula imagine #dracula fanfic #bbc dracula #dracula netflix #dracula 2020 #tw: noncon #tw: murder #claes bang #chelsfic

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