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#this was a pain to repaint guys
koitosoup · 10 months
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smooch
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websterss · 2 months
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 — 𝐀𝐙𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐋
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: You and Azriel had dreamed of nothing more than to be parents. You were ready for it, you just weren't prepared to have that dream be ripped away.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, mentions of death, mentions of slight blood not really, mentions of stillbirth, grievance, and mourning, just angst all around really...
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3,038
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Azriel x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you like it! I work with children so sometimes I get a cute teacher!reader idea fics. I was asked to help out in the early head start classes last week and well, being around 1-3 years old made me emotional, also I've been sad lately so this fic was the end result of how I've been feeling...also this is my first azriel fic and I'm fucking nervous...anyway let me know what you guys think!
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
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You had dreamed of a life worth waking up to…in the room down the hall. Dreamed of the cuddles and nose kisses that would cure your bad woes away. Dreamed of the giggles and laughter, ones you’d hope would be replications of yours and Azriels combined. Dreamed of the late-night cries and restless nights of sleep. You wanted it…more than anything else. You wanted the life you were ready to live that awaited behind the door with the blue and pink butterflies.
The room you spent countless hours parading around and holding up color swatches to. It drove Azriel mad, having you make him repaint and coat with a new color you fell hopelessly in love with, but you knew he’d do it all over again to hold onto the hope you shared that was now gone.
Azriel stood at your bedroom door, his chest closing in on itself as he felt you hurt. He felt your hate, your grief…he felt empty knowing that the stillbirth wasn’t felt one-sided. He felt the loss of his two unborn babes.
You spent the days in your bed crying. Your bedsheets and pillowcases had long since turned soggy, and you no longer had the energy to cry any harder. Azriel took the brunch of your earlier breakdowns. holding you as you wept and pleaded to have them back. It had taken Rhysand to shut down your mind. Having you fall head forward into Azriel's neck as he held you.
“Rhys…please! I beg of you!” Azriel had cried out to his brother for help. Your pain had gone right down to his side of his bond and as much as he didn't want to he needed a moment's worth of quiet. Rhysand had only nodded cupping his brother's crying face, knowing Azriel wasn't doing this out of anger, but because he wanted you both to stop hurting for just one night, but that pain would never stop coming.
“Don’t you dare…don’t you dare! Rhysand no!” You wept as Azriel held you in his arms. “I don’t wanna sleep…I don’t wanna sleep yet…” It only took one glance at Azriel and Rhysand had pressed his forefingers against both your temples. Azriel eyes shut, and the last thing he heard was your whimpers dying out quietly.
His betrayal hurt, but your body ached more, your heart throbbed, and your stomach twisted into knots. You had done everything to prepare for their arrival. Had spent hours selecting their names, stocking the nursery, and speaking to them every day. Now you barely had the strength to get up and eat. Much less Azriel but he was doing his best to hold it together for you both. He lost two precious gems, he didn’t want to end up losing his beautiful diamond too.
He watched with a heavy heart as Madja checked your pulse for the umpteenth time this week.
“It would be best to start eating child.”
“I did everything you asked of me...” You murmured staring off into space.
“You need to gain your strength back, little one. Don’t tell anyone but you’re my favorite apprentice I've ever had. I’d hate to see you go so soon.” Madja brushed back your hair.
“I did everything right Madja…” Your breaths growing labored again.
“I know child. I know you did.” Madja's heart ached for you both. “Unfortunate and unfair circumstances.” She mourned for the beautiful twins she had to help you deliver. She looked up at Azriel as he hastily wiped a tear from his cheek.
“Child, when is the last time you’ve eaten?” She directed her firm tone at the Shadowsinger.
“I don’t want to eat.” You muttered.
“I won’t eat until she does.” You and Azriel spoke at the same time.
“Stubborn…” Madja cursed amongst something else you couldn’t comprehend.
Madja let out a small sigh before she pulled you into an embrace and pressed your head into her shoulder as she rubbed your back. In your moment of vulnerability, your emotions grew even more intense. You felt the tears on your cheeks mix with Madja's as she kissed your temple. Madja's heart broke seeing the once vibrant young woman that filled rooms with joy and energy, turn into a lifeless zombie of her former self. She broke seeing Azriel lose himself even further, falling back into his shadows for comfort. He resembled that of a scared lost babe, trying to find his way home again. When she received the call from Feyre, she knew the whirlwind of emotions that was going to follow.
-
"Where is she?" She called out as soon as she and Rhysand winnowed in. She didn't even think about it when she stuffed her bag with everything she needed.
"Third door down. The girls are trying to keep her calm... nothing's working." Rhysand followed right on her tail.
"She's having twins Rhysand of course not child!" Madja cursed as she hurried her footsteps.
The scene before her was a mess. The house a disarray, and the living room thrashed, probably where the panic started. She heard Feyra and Nesta ordering Cassian for more towels from upstairs. She climbed up to the second landing. Her eyes immediately fell onto Azriel's, finding him holding his stomach in pain with tears in his eyes, as he sat with his knees to his chest.
"Madja I can't feel them-" He could barely get out before she walked right past him.
"Get him up." She called over his shoulder. "I need you three in there."
"Why?" Rhysand asked as she followed the cacophony of your wails of anguish.
"I need you three to help hold her down, the girls won't be enough."
"Hold her down?"
"Get him up!" Rhysand had scrambled to haul him up on his feet. Ushering him into the room he had half a mind to go into. Azriel cried harder seeing your blood stain the sheets.
"Madja-" You cried out to her. Slightly relieved she was finally here to help you. "I-I can't feel—feel them. I can't feel—" You choked up.
"I'm here child. I'm here." Madja cleaned her hands and then checked under your nightgown. Your heart sank as she tried keeping her eyes at bay from watering. She hovered her hand over your stomach and as she paused, you knew it wasn't a good sign.
"M-Me or them?" Your lips quivered. "Madja? W-What's wrong? Are they okay? If you can...save them please. S-Save my babies please!" The healer only continued to remain silent. She looked up briefly at Feyre and Rhysand, her mind opening up to them.
Madja? Rhysand bent his chin in concern.
I cannot feel they're heartbeats. She thought. Feyre shed a tear at the news.
"Madja?" Azriel's voice pulled her thoughts away. "Are the babes okay?"
"Child..." She began somberly.
"T-Tell me..." You inhaled deeply, gripping Azriel's and Rhysand's arms tighter.
"...I can no longer feel their heartbeats. The twins I'm afraid are stillborn my child." A tear shed down her cheek.
"N-No." Your grip loosened up, as Azriel's grew stronger.
"And I need you to be very strong for me for this next part because you need to push them out."
"I-I can't-" You began to protest.
"You can! I know you can. You, my dear are the strongest person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing...and I will be here with you every step of the way. We all will."
You had barely mustered a disheartened nod before she told you to begin pushing.
-
“You both are a pain in my ass…a beautiful pain…but still a pain.” Madja shook her head, hearing Azriel scoff at her choice of comforting words. “Can I be honest?”
“You always are…” Azriel grumbled now shifting to the end of the frame of the bed.
“I do not care if you don’t want to eat. you need to eat. Precisely because I don’t want to have to receive an urgent call from Rhysand or Feyre telling me you idiots gave out on us. I refuse to have you leave this world so soon.” You looked up and met her arched brow.
“Madja—“ You began to protest.
“Eat. Both of you or I'll shove my hand down your throats and force-feed you.” Madja gestured to the nightstand with a tray stacked with two bowls and glasses. You’d been eating a few crackers, but she didn’t think that was enough. She had brought over soup from the kitchen in hopes you’d finally get some real food in your gut.
Azriel and you shared glances that told her you’d rather starve together than either of you eat at different times. Madja was about to argue but she knew she’d be arguing into the wind with you two. Your bond was too strong.
”I don’t want anything Madja...” Was your only reply as you hid your gaze from the healer and your mate, whose faces were so deeply etched with worry. Azriel was taking your pain on like he deserved it. Slowly withering away alongside you. It was you and him against the world, against death if that's how you wanted it. He wouldn't let you go alone. "It hurts..."
”I understand it hurts, but you gotta put something in your stomach or it’s gonna hurt even more.”
“Please…” You pleaded again, your voice hoarse and cracking as you spoke.
“Please Madja...” Azriel was soon echoing your pleas with the same breathless voice as tears formed at the corners of his eyes.
"Come." She motioned Azriel to sit on the other side of the bed.
Azriel met your somber gaze before he walked over and slipped into the bed with you. Shifting closer until his chest was pressed against your back. You slowly moved your head from Madja's chest and leaned it back against Azriel's chest. Madja looked between the two of you and gave a slight nod. The two of you both watched as she twisted around and then placed the tray down in the middle of your laps. She gripped both your hands before gesturing to the soup with crackers.
"Won't eat together, then you start together. Eat, I talk." You grumbled then let your shoulders fall at the two spoons she held out for you both. You took one from her, as did Azriel before allowing you to slowly sit up. Once situated, Azriel watched you slowly take the first spoonful then took one of his own from the bowl. His shadows vivaciously sprang to life as you both ate in silence together. "It won't pass...not for a long time." You both looked up at her for a moment before looking down again.
Azriel swallowed the soup without tasting it. It would take more time for him to start eating at a regular pace again. He took his time, enjoying the warmth of the soup as it slid down his throat. As you started to eat a little more from the bowl, he kept his gaze trained on you, watching every movement you made. He had not stopped worrying about you. You were weak and vulnerable in this state, as was he, but he refused to let you fall again. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your temple as a tear fell down your cheek. When you cried, he wasn’t far from crying too. Tears of his own soon fell at the feeling of that bubble of anguish building up in your chest again.
"This kind of loss…it stays with you forever. The empty hole in your chests." She puts her finger in the center of your sternum gently. "That my dear child will fill itself up again within time. I'm not going to give you my apologies because I know you both have had enough of everyone's condolences, but I can give you the reassurance as your healer, and your friend, that it'll happen again, and again, and if doesn't then you can try again another time."
Azriel listened but remained silent. He had always been one who believed actions spoke louder than words. He couldn't force himself to believe that the pain and sorrow would eventually pass, but he could trust in her words this time. Her actions had proven themselves enough, you wouldn't be sitting beside him without her. If there was anyone he would be willing to trust it was Madja. She had been another mother figure to him after losing the two he did have. Her words brought an empty comfort to him, but her love brought warmth and familiarity like that of a mother's embrace. He knew she meant well. Madja always tried.
Madja's words of promise brought Azriel some hope. You could see the worry in his expression as he chewed on a spoonful of soup and nodded to her words. He knew she was right. If it wasn't meant to be now then you could always try again in the future. Madja's fingers caressed your skin softly. She could see the grief that lingered in your eyes. Her hand grazed against your cheek tenderly and her thumb swiped your tear away.
“And if it doesn’t?” You asked, your head tilting to one side as she spoke. You felt so lost now, so confused about what was to be of your grieving family of two right now. If you’d be okay after this and how you were supposed to move on. She had offered hope to fill the empty gap, but that void of that missing piece in your heart ached. It ached for your twins that you wanted more than anything to be resting in a cradle next to your and Azriel's bed, or for that night to have been a promise of new life blooming from within you, instead of death taking it from within you.
Azriel's head fell to the side, his gaze drifting to your intertwined hands. He knew that Madja meant well, but it didn't make her words any less painful to hear. He wanted more than anything to see your belly swell again. To fall asleep each night knowing you were cradling two precious gems within you. The thought of that possibility made his heartache. He couldn't even imagine the thought of trying again, it was too much.
"I don't want it to happen again Madja…I don't want to experience this pain again." You whispered, your voice shaking as you let out another sob. The pain was only going to get worse, and you weren't sure what to do. To you, it wasn’t even about conceiving another baby, but the fact that you lost the twins you held so dearly within your womb. Azriel gently scooted you closer into his arms. Your bodies pressed against each other as he pulled you into a gentle hug. "I don't think I could go through that again." You shook your head.
“Neither could I…” Azriel whispered. He kept his eyes focused on you as he caressed your back and held you close. It wasn’t so much the grief that caused your hearts to break, but the thought of going through the journey again only to have the same results. Would you be able to handle losing your babes again? Azriel knew he wouldn't be able to. Would there be a point break in your hearts that you both wouldn't be able to take on any more pain? That thought alone scares him. Azriel pulled you into his body, burying his head into your hair. His body shook with every word he tried to hold back, but his voice gave way.
"I'm sorry my love..." He mumbled with his lips pressed against your forehead as he hugged you tighter. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the images of you almost giving out on him. You could feel the drops of his tears fall on you, but he refused to let go. Azriel held you close, his breathing becoming heavy as memories of the night flooded his mind heavily.
"I'm here..." You whispered sweet nothings of reassurance to him.
“I can't promise that we won't go through this again…” Madja’s heart skipped a beat at your tear-filled eyes. You both wanted nothing more than to conceive another precious babe in the future if you're both up for it again surely, but you both fear the heartache that would follow if it takes the same turn again. Madja is right, that kind of pain will never truly heal or leave you. You can only pray that it won't happen again. You both turn to her. "But I can promise you'll have many many beautiful babies. Your body will allow it my child that is my reassurance. I can't take away your pain, your grievance of your lost twins, but I can give you the hope for better days and the expansion of your little family that will continue to grow and grow." She brought her hands up and cupped the sides of your faces.
"Promise?!" Azriel's voice was filled with hopefulness as if he could already see the light at the end of this dark and twisted tunnel. You could finally see some relief wash over him as she explained. His hands reached up and rested against her palm as he focused on her every word.
Madja's words brought you comfort, at least for now. Her promise of conceiving future babies gave you hope that one day you'd still have your dream of a big family with Azriel. You wouldn't have to carry the weight of the twins' death on your shoulders alone. You had Azriel alongside you, and Rhysand, and Feyre, and Nesta, and Cassian, and Mor, and Amren, and Madja. She was right though, she always was–the hollow of sadness wouldn't go away, but it could be filled. You'd make sure to make that empty in ache that burned you whole again, if not now, then you and Azriel would have the future and many years to come. That was all you could hope for now.
"That I can promise you." You both nodded as she pulled you into her embrace. Your and Azriel's minds wander further down the hall, where the door remains closed. The door with the blue and pink butterflies. 
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Imagine Shanks finding out you're a painter
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You: *humming along to some music as you apply a fresh coat of paint to the wall of the galley*
Benn and Lucky Roux: *walk in*
Benn: Hey Kid.
You: Hey
Lucky Roux: Did you make sure to use the mold resistant paint?
You: Yes Roux.
Benn: And you applied the sealant before the paint?
You: *nods your head* And the primer, I got this man, thanks for checking in on me.
Benn: Alright then, I'm just gonna open this here winder to get some fresh air in here, so you don't get high off the paint fumes.
You: aww, but that's the best part.
Lucky Roux: *snorts* Let me know when you're done, so I can start dinner. Also, when you are done, you might want to put up a barrier, so none of the others accidentally lean on it.
You: I enjoy seeing them covered in paint. So I think they're gonna be in for a surprise, or at least the boss will be. Because I bet you a thousand berry that he's definitely gonna lean in the paint.
Lucky Roux: I'll take that bet.
Benn: I ain't, because he'll definitely gonna do it.
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The next morning
Shanks: *Still annoyed that he got paint in his hair the night before* is this shit finally dry?
Benn: yeah, the kid didn't paint in straight lines though.
Shanks: what! But they're usually so meticulous about doing tasks perfectly.
Benn: it was on purpose too, take a close look.
Shanks: *leans in and glides his fingers across a floral design in the brush strokes* do you think they like painting?
Benn: I believe so, that, or they inhaled too much paint fumes and decided to have fun with it.
Shanks: both are possible... Didn't they repaint the hallway, and bathrooms?
Benn: yeah? They painted patterns there too.
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Weeks later
Shanks: Hey (y/n) I got you something! *Presents you with a colorful variety of house paints, and a bunch of supplies*
You: ... Wow, that's a lot of paint, are you wanting me to repaint every room on the ship?
Shanks: no silly, for you to have fun with. We noticed the patterns you painted in the galley and thought you might like more colors.
You: but where would I paint?
Shanks: where ever you'd like.
You: *Kisses him on the cheek, scoops up the supplies, and runs to your room*, Thank you!
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Two days later in the galley
You: I finished my room is it okay if I paint this wall now?
Shanks: Go for it.
Benn: *watches you run off* they painted their whole room you know.
Shanks: I saw, I was impressed they managed to paint such steady line work with the ship moving so much.
Benn: I think the little maze design the pained on their door frame was my favorite. Do you think they take requests?
Shanks: I dunno.
You: *pushes the box of supplies onto one of the tables*
Benn: is it okay if I asked you to paint something?
You: sure!
Yassop: Wait, you take requests! I want the pillar in my room painted.
The crew: *crowd around you listing off the things they want painted*
Shanks: Guys, let em breathe for fuck's sake! Make a list so they can start painting.
Lucky Roux: I ain't writing down my request because it's simple, don't paint any more realistic bug on the damn walls. I nearly shit myself when I saw the cockroach you painted in the bathroom, that was not a fun surprise at three in the morning.
You: only termite holes, got it.
Lucky Roux: (y/n) no! No termite holes.
You: fine fine, although the fact that the paint on that cockroach didn't even get to dry before one of y'all smacked it, is hilarious.
Shanks: no more realistic bugs, dear, in fact avoid painting realistic critters all together please.
You: ugh fine.
Shanks: I have a project I'd like you to paint, but I'll need to get you a canvas for it. *Winks at you and wiggles his eyebrows*
Benn: Gross.... if he's getting a nude I want one too.
Shanks: You want my nudes too?
Benn: I want a nude of myself, ding-dong.
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gayuu-the-necromancer · 10 months
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Black Wedding ~ Part 1 Jude Jazza ~ Epilogue
 。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
We had our wedding that day.
We made our cursed vow of love that binds us to each other until death.
Kate: "M-Mr. Jude...I'm fine...."
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Jude: "That's not for you to decide."
It was right after our wedding that several knife-wielding thugs barged in.
In the midst of the scuffle, glasses broke before we know it and scattered beautifully all over the place.
The leader of the thugs had a strong grudge against Mr. Jude, who was the groom but fell unconscious after eating a merciless kick from him.
And thus I'm being checked over every inch of my body.
The wedding dress I wore is barely even hanging on my body, because it's already shredded into bits.
Of course, not by the thugs....but by the man I pledged my love to.
Jude: "Hm. This side looks fine. Turn around."
Kate: ".....Mm...."
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It's not like it's the first time I've been stripped naked in front of him.
And because it's not the first time, my body interprets it in a different way.
Kate: ".....Nn."
His fingertips brushed against my skin and I held my breath.
Kate: "See, I told you I'm not hurt. You don't have to check so carefully....."
Every time he touches me, every time he stares at me, I feel like I'm going to get overheated and I desperately try to calm my body down.
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Jude: "I'm checking to see if there is even a scratch. That's what's going to decide how I'll torture them later."
Jude: "Tch...I'll also find the guy who leaked the info about the venue of the wedding."
The exasperated murmur suddenly reminded me of how reluctant he was to hold a ceremony.
(Perhaps----)
Kate: "Is that why you were so against holding a wedding ceremony?"
Jude: "Huh?'
Mr. Jude glared at me with a sullen face.
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Maybe it's too late for me to say this, but this face you're making right now is so cute.
Kate: "It is because you didn't want to see me in danger, right....?"
Jude: ".....You look so pleased."
Kate: "You didn't deny it though."
Jude: "You're gonna interpret it in positive way no matter what I say."
Kate: "Fufu...yep."
Jude: "....You're laughing at me right now. One wrong move and that could have ended you right then and there."
His long fingertips, traces between my breasts to the stomach.
Kate: ".....Ah....Mm...."
The heat that had been aroused while he was staring at me was unexpectedly stimulated and I couldn't help but let out a cry.
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Jude: ".....Why are you making that lewd sound?"
Kate: "I-I was just surprised. That's all."
Jude: "Ohh?"
Kate: "....!?"
Holding my shoulders, he roughly pushed me onto bed.
Jude: "There is still something I forgot to check."
He lifted my legs and the hem of my already torn wedding dress falls down.
Kate: "Hey...!"
Seeing my dress fall and watching him constantly stare at me made me so embarrassed that I hid my face with both my hands.
Jude: "You're always like this when you're startled."
Jude: "You pervert."
Kate: "W-Wait..."
Jude: "Huh? Why?"
He bites on the thin skin inside of my thighs, causing a dull pain.
Kate: "Mm..Mm...!"
Jude: "....Does it hurt?"
I nodded.
But he knows that it's not only pain that I feel.
Every time he sets his teeth on my skin, which is hot from being tormented, a sweet tingle rises in me.
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Jude: "But you like pain, don't you?"
The sound of his mocking laughter and his facial expressions are intoxicating to the point of almost being frightening.
Kate: "It's not like it's because of you..."
I want everything to feel good even if it hurts or is embarrassing.
It's like I've been repainted.
Jude: "Love that erotic face."
Jude: ".....No matter how much you cry or scream, there is no escape from me now."
The sweet numbness I feel when I look into his eyes, which did not try to hide their lechery, is horrifying.
If he loves me, I'll be in heaven....even if it's on a bed of needles.
................
Jude: "We both are equally crazy."
Mr. Jude plays with my fingers which were exhausted after I was thrown to the bed.
The two same rings on our fingers shine.
Seeing that, my cheeks relax.
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Jude: "....What's with that goofy face?"
Jude: "Are you that happy you made this embarrassing lifetime contract with me?"
Kate: "Do you remember? Once you said, those who break it will break it, and those who don't will never break, even if they die."
Jude: "Your little head still remembers that? It was a long time ago."
Kate: "My little head is superfluous."
Jude: "I'm impressed you can remember so much."
Kate: "....... It sounds less snarky now."
Jude: "What do you mean?"
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Kate: ".....Mr. Jude is a man who will not break his promise, no matter how crazy it is."
Kate: "I know that....and that makes me happy."
Kate: "You swore to me, no matter what."
Kate: "It means you've decided to protect me."
Jude: "......You really like getting hurt, huh?"
Jude: "I can't believe you're so happy that you can't escape from me for the rest of your life."
The person that many people hold a grudge against, and could get attacked any time of the day----is the man I love.
And I'm prepared to take that risk.
Kate: ".....You are the one who made me like pain."
Jude: "Don't blame me."
Despite his bitter tone, Mr. Jude stroked my hair.
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Jude: "Heh, you're such a bad woman."
 。⋆。˚🦋˚。⋆。
Story // Bitter END // Premium END
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cyberrose2001 · 6 months
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I be thinking about Megasound cum inflation. Soundwave is already built different in tfp so I like to think he cums differently as in this man’s got that presure hose fire hydrant massive soundshlong that can repaint part of the ceiling with his babyliquid- And like, Megs doesn’t know/forgets about so the moment SW fucking nuts he’s like “Ayo that’s a lot of sauce” and hfjsksnsnska yeah-
There’s not enough Megasound smut with Megs being full of Soundcream.
(i took pain meds and this is what my brain came up with, full send)
it’s always the skinny guys with the phattest loads……
and yeah there’s definitely not enough of Megasound to go around, give us more you cowards
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wepsi · 1 year
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I've been wanting to tie you up for a while now ~ Lucifer(nsfw)
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Female reader, established relationship
Cw: Shibari
Scenario: After seeing you strung up from the ceiling instead of Mammon, Lucifer seemed extremely flustered.
"Yo can you help me get down from here?"
"And why would I do that? You probably deserved it."
"Pleaaaaaaseee, I can't miss another shift again!"
"Even if I were to agree I can't help you."
"Listen, I learned a new spell from Solomon that will let us swap places, please! Remember you owe me a favor!"
"Ughhhhhh fine mammon, let's get it over with."
Mammon casts the spell, swapping your places. Your perspective went from seeing him bound up, to seeing him free. Mammon looking at the time rushes away, mouthing "I'll save you later". The ropes felt snug but not uncomfortable, wow this must have been painful for poor Mammon then.
You suddenly hear footsteps that only could belong to Lucifer, heart sinking to your... stomach? not sure you're upside down right now. Lucifer walks in, with his hand on his forehead and eyes closed, the stance for a lecture. When he opens his eyes, all he saw was your face stupidly giving him a grin.
Lucifer looked taken aback, what were you doing here tied up?You expected a lecture, but he just looked flustered, struggling to form words. Pulling at one specific rope you tumble down freely, Lucifer turned around to walk away, but you caught his face blushing for a second.
Later that night you were in Asmo's room getting your nails repainted. Remembering the event from earlier that day, you confide in Asmo telling what happened and Lucifer's weird response. Asmo looked up at you, a evil smile on his face,
"Fufufufu so Lucifer's into that~ I guess can't say I'm surprised."
You look at him confused, Asmo didn't seem phased and calmly finished your nails. After thoroughly admiring his work, Asmo pulled out his phone and went through his pictures. Showing you this album of photos, you gasped at the lewd pictures. There was what assumed to be his past lovers in all different positions, tied up in elaborate ropes and knots of all shapes and sizes.
It looked beautiful in a way, the rope indenting and making their soft flesh burst out. It highlighted all their parts, and tied in a way their movements were limited. Asmo seemed happy at your curiosity, his mind scheming up a plan for you. Just for this, tonight he will forgo his beauty sleep and teach you the ropes (get it? XD)
After dinner, you scurry to your room to prepare for your surprise for Lucifer, leaving all the brothers confused. Lucifer walks up to check on you, hoping he didn't make you upset when he walked away from you the other day. He did not expect what he stumbled upon when he entered the room.
"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh surprise?"
(See header picture for how this scene looked)
You weren't quite done, but have a bad habit of not locking your door. Lucifer came and was thoroughly taken aback, you were bound up foot to neck with the ropes exposing your breasts and your lips. two pieces of rope still in each of your hands unfinished.
"What is the meaning of this?"
"Well honey I figured you might be into this from how you reacted before, so I wanted to give you a surprise. Guess it's ruined now though."
You pouted, loosening the ropes in your hand. Lucifer walked to you, helping you untie yourself. You curse yourself in your head, thinking you mistaken the situation. Lucifer's ruby eyes looked into yours, sending a shiver down your spine,
"I appreciate your gesture my dear, but you're doing it all wrong. Accompany me to my room I'll show you how it's done."
Face as red as a tomato, you rid yourself the rest of the ropes, and followed Lucifer to his room. It's not like you guys haven't had sex before, but this was new and exciting, plus you always liked when Lucifer enticed you like that(not that he had to). You hear Lucifer lock the door behind you with a click, your heart picking up pace. He opens a drawer, and pulls out red rope.
"Shall we begin dear~"
You striped down to nothing as he directed. The rope felt a lot nicer on your skin compared to the one you bought on akuzone. He was looping and knotting around your skin expertly, tight enough for you to feel but not too tight to be uncomfortable. You felt your appendages slowly getting bound to itself. The lack of freedom and control made you nervous and excited.
That's how you spend the next who knows how long, silence besides your heavy breathing and the rope sliding against your skin. When you are almost done Lucifer pulls down a secret latch in the ceiling, exposing multiple hooks (has that always been there?) Having your consent from earlier, Lucifer hooks the ropes and starts suspending you. You felt a little scared but you trusted him.
Finishing the final pieces of his art, Lucifer looks at you satisfied. Bringing over a large mirror so you could see yourself.
here is the inspo pose (nsfw)click at your own discretion!
Looking in the mirror you thought you would feel shy, but you felt like a piece of art. The bright red rope highlighting your skin, you could see Lucifer went with a simpler design seeing as it is your first time. You weren't left completely immobile like some of the demons on Asmo's photo album.
Having your legs wide open but not being able to cover it with your hands, or close your legs left you feeling shameful, but your dripping heat would disagree. Looking over, Lucifer was practically drooling over you, face a mix between wanting to admire you and devouring you.
"I've been wanting to tie you up for a while now, you look beautiful dear"
"I'm not sure how I can not destroy you tonight."
There will be a part 2! eventually
..............................................................................................................................
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avatarmerida · 2 years
Text
In His Dreams
Ignore the lack of actual plot I just needed a story to justify a tiny Huntlow head canon I had so here
———
“Wait, you wanna go in my mind?” Hunter repeated, confused as he sat of the edge of the couch.
“Yeah, Eda put Amity and Luz in Willow’s mind before and she taught me how!” Gus exclaimed, the rest of the group smiling behind him. This was a hard and awkward pitch, but Gus felt so sure about it.
“Okay but why?”
“Because you might know something about Belos that could help us figure things out,” said Luz.
“Things… Caleb might’ve known,” added Gus hesitantly. Hunter had told them all only a few days ago, but Gus had known for awhile. He knew Hunter was coming to terms with it, but it was still hard news for him to share so Gus brought it up only when totally necessary.
“Memories are part of the base of creating a grimwalker,” explained Amity, better at being blunt than Gus. “Belos would probably do a good job at hiding them-
“-so we can search for your subconscious for things you didn’t even know you knew!”
“My subconscious? So, like, my secrets?” His eyes darted to Willow before returning nervously to Gus. “Um so it would be you going in my mind?”
“No I gotta stay here to control the spell,” said Gus. “Willow and Luz are gonna go. We figured Luz would know anything from the human world and Willow wants to be on other side of the spell for once.”
“It’s not that bad I promise,” she smiled before adding in. Harsh whisper. “At least I won’t set anything on fire.”
“Right,” said Hunter, remembering her telling him this story. “Actually, I think I would prefer if Blight went.”
“Are you sure ?” Willow asked, assuming he was joking. “Because Luz knows more about human stuff and that might be helpful if Philip-.”
“I meant instead of you, Captain,” Hunter said as though the words physically pained him.
“Oh,” was all Willow could muster, understandably surprised, seeing as Hunter knew she was the one who has set the fire in her mind last time.
“It’s nothing personal, I just think that uh-.”
“No no, it’s your mind,” said Willow with a calming breath. Hunter could see she felt hurt, but she truly respected his honestly. “Whatever makes you more comfortable.”
She meant it, Hunter knew that, but he wished he could tell her why and ease her mind.
“So, we’re doing this?” Gus asked and Hunter nodded, knowing his friend had asked the question fully prepared to proceed. He knew this was important and only he could do it, but he’d be lying if he said the idea was comforting. He barely liked being in his mind, he couldn’t imagine how someone else would find it.
“Okay, so I guess it you and me,” said Luz, turning to Amity. “Wow, wouldn’t it be cool if we got to go into everyone’s mind together?”
“Once was more than enough,” Amity said lightly. “You got the radio?”
“Right here, Sweet Potato,”
“All right, once you find what you need send the signal and I’ll get you out,” said Gus. “You don’t wanna be in there a second longer than you need to.”
“Hey!” Hunter said, offended.
“Nothing personal,” said Gus preparing the spell. “Okay guys get ready.”
“Is this gonna hurt?” Hunter asked, concerned.
“Only if I do it wrong,” said Gus. “But I haven’t gotten practice it yet, so we’ll see.”
-
Hunter’s mind appeared to be under construction. The girls found themselves in an open field, a gentle breeze blowing and the sky with just the right amount of clouds. Before them stood a grand building, seemingly being rebuilt. They walk towards an once inside they saw a grand hallway of paintings being repainted by themselves. The lines would see I truce and then relapse, sometimes altering very little as if being resceanned to verify their authenticity.
“Looks like Hunter’s still processing everything he learned about Belos,” said Amity. “I read about this, it’s changing the entire outlook of the memory, sometimes it unlocks things that were repressed.”
“Is it safe to be here?” Luz asked, mesmerized and terrified of the large paintings. “Aren’t things kind falling apart in here?”
“We just need to be extra careful,” said Amity. “Strictly looking, I’m worried with the state of everything the inner Hunter might be crumbling too. We shouldn’t interact with anything.”
“Right, strictly snooping,” said Luz as they began to wander. Most of the memories were unhelpful and they started to rewind at random places, the tone and volume shifting as the true meaning was being interpreted. But it all clearly belonged to Hunter.
They wandered for awhile as they memories free more coherent, but what they found was mostly lonely and draining.
“His core memories are shifting,” noticed Amity. “We need to find something more recent, it should be more clear and not shifting as much.”
“Hey here’s one with Willow!” Luz called.
“Good, at least we know it more recent,” said Amity joining her to view. “Looks like a flyer derby match.”
“Is it me or is she glowing?” Asked Luz, squinting to get a better look. “It’s like there’s a halo or a spotlight on her. Aw, she looks like an angel.”
Willow flew forward on her staff in midst of a very intense game that seemed to have been neck and neck for awhile. The crowd look onward as she scored a point, looking frantically behind her as though searching for something. Hunter appeared out of nowhere, snatching flags left and right before appearing at the posts to seal their victory.
The stands cheered as Hunter sailed around as he delivered the finals flag and floated to Willow who eagerly greeted him with open arms. He remained on his staff as he floated beside her and Willow leaned up to give Hunter an eager celebratory kiss. She placed her free hand on his cheek as the other steadied herself in the air. He closed his eyes and returned the kiss, nearly falling of his staff as raised brought up his hand to hold the side of her face. The action seemed natural and famialr as though they had done it a thousand times before. They were lost in their moment, unaware and uncaring of the crowd around them, focused on each other.
“WHAT?!” exclaimed Luz and Amity together.
“When did this happen?!” Amity screamed.
“Why wouldn’t she tell me?” Luz screamed at the same time.
“How long has this been going on?”
“Do you think she told Gus and not me?”
“Did you know?” They finished in union facing each other.
“No!” Said Luz. “Did you?”
“No,” said Amity. “But it doesn’t make sense-.”
“Hey! Willow is a catch and Hunter is… better than he was…”
“No, no that,” said Amity. “Well, yes, that, but look at how choppy the memory is.”
“So?”
“So, it’s different than the other memories, it’s not altering itself but something off in a different way,” explained Amity. “This seems like an important memory so everything is crisp and clear, but it’s like it’s only this moment. There should be more, but it stops here. The background isn’t consistent, like it’s composed of different memories overlapping. I think this is a dream.”
“Oh that makes way more sense, cause Willow would have definitely told me about this.”
“If I’m right then we’ve entered a dangerous part of the mind,” said Amity. “We’re deeper than his subconscious; we’re in his imagination. This is more than memories these are his thoughts, dreams, and feelings. They not necessary real but they can still be dangerous. Dreams, nightmares, anything can live in here. Anything Hunter can imagine.”
“And I guess he imagines a lot of Willow,” said Luz who ran ahead to scan the rest of the dreams, viewing a scene of Hunter and Willow dancing at his idea of Grom. “Is he taller in his dreams? Or does his boot just have a higher heel?”
“Luz, I don’t think we’ll find anything here, this part looks too new to be something Belos knew about,” said Amity, glancing at the windows she passed.
“Oh woah, look at this one he has goatee!” Luz said, having too much fun as she directed Amity to her window.
“Wait a minute, is this… are they..?”
“Oh my gosh, he dreamt about them getting married!” gushed Luz, watching the scene as a future dream Willow walked down the aisle, her hair longer but still in her beloved braids adorned with dozens of flowers. Hunter, old enough to have grown a goatee and rid himself of his under-eye bags, looked at her with utter adoration as he awaited her in an outfit of green and gold. “Oh, look at Willow’s dress! She looks so pretty! Hey, where am I? I should be the maid of honor.”
“Luz…”
“I know you’ve known her longer so I won’t be mad if it’s you but I should at least be a bridesmaid,” said Luz scanning the crowd. “Look, Gus is there. Aw! Can we stay to hear their vows? Look at the flowers! I can’t wait to get back and tell Willow-.”
“Luz you can’t tell Willow about any of this,” said Amity, turning her girlfriend away from the sentimental scene. “Clearly, Hunter has feelings for Willow that he’s not ready to share with her. It makes sense why he didn’t want her to come here.”
“Awh, you’re right Bonita,” said Luz. “Sorry, my little shipper heart just got excited.”
“Once he confesses though, I fully intend to mercilessly tease him about this,” said Amity. “But this isn’t why we’re here; we need a memory to follow, something out of place…”
“Flapjack!”
“No, it would be something more specific from his past, something out of place-.”
“No but look it’s Flapjack with Hunter but he’s… different?” Luz said, pointing ahead. Flapjack excitedly chirped around Hunter’s head as he laughed, but Hunter didn’t quite look like himself. His hair was styled differently and he didn’t have his scars. Even in his own dreams he did not look like this. “Flapjack doesn’t have his scar, he had it when Hunter found him. I can tell by the lighting it’s not a dram but this memory can’t be his.”
“Luz, what if Belos hid Caleb’s memories inside Hunter’s dreams?” Amity said, connecting the dots.
“We just need to follow the right memory!” Luz exclaimed. “Follow him!”
“Hey Caleb!”
———
Outside, Willow and Gus were sitting Hunter who attempted to mediate to create a clearer mind for Luz and Amity to be in. Willow sat beside him, monitoring his breathing as he tried to steady it despite her eyes locked on him.
“Just try not to think about it,” advised Gus.
“When has that ever been the effective to not think about something?” Said Hunter, trying to keep a calm consistent tone.
“Just picture a field,” said Willow. “A calm, wide field.”
“A field, a field,” Hunter repeated. Willow knew he struggled relaxing under normal circumstances and knew repetition was a part of his process. Her hand hovered over his, hesitant to take it worried he wanted distance from her.
“Uh oh,” Gus said suddenly and Willow pulled her hand back, moving further from Hunter.
“Nothing! I mean, I wasn’t-,” muttered Willow.
“Willow, we might have a situation,” said Gus.
“Oh you meant-oh no! Is Hunter okay?” Willow asked, standing up to see him better.
“It’s nothing yet, but he shouldn’t be levitating the way he is right now!” Said Gus and Willow saw Hunter had indeed began to clot subtly from his seat.
“If someone was wouldn’t they call on the radio?”
“I dunno what’s going on but I can’t pull them out,” Gus said. “They’re stuck and we need to guide them out.”
“How?”
“You need to go in and find them!”
“But Hunter doesn’t want me in his mind!”
“If you don’t go there won’t be a mind to be in!”
“Are you sure you can handle three people?”
“I’m gonna have to, but make it quick!”
———
Willow arrived where Luz and Amity had, the field was calm and bright now. She looked around for clarification the spell had worked and was greeted by a familiar face.
“Are you the inner Hunter?” Willow asked timidly.
“I am,” he responded, offering his arm to her. “Let me take you to what you’re looking for.”
“You’re not… upset that I’m here?” She asked as she took it, and the Inner Hunter simply smiled.
“Not at all, you’re always welcome here,” he said. His voice was calm and confident. “I have a bit more clarity than the Hunter you know, thought there’s still a lot to sort out. You know, I’ve been in quite a disarray since I met you.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” he said with a fond sigh. “Well, not just you. There’s been so much happening and changing recently, a lot to unlearn and process, but you were a good change. You sparked a new path, you were our first kindred spirit.”
“You mean besides Flapjack, right?” She said with a small smile.
“Of course,” he said retuning her smile, continuing to lead her through the path. “It began as admiration, of course we’ve admired people before, but so often that admiration birthed insecurity and anxiety. But you were worthy of admiration without trying to be. We had put up walls and acts and convinced ourselves that we were content with loneliness, that we were worthless without approval. But you were patient. You were kind without any ulterior motives and honest without cruel intentions. I felt seen and welcome because you saw the best in me I could see it to. And I liked it. To have someone let me fail, to want me around, to care about me and not my title, well I was in utter turmoil. I thought I knew who I was, thought I knew my place in the world. But after I met you, I had rethink it all.”
“Oh wow, I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” he went on. “Your genuineness inspired emotions that had been repressed for years to come forth. Before this was all guilt, fear, and arrogance. But hope and happiness have started to bloom, and they’re rooted in a more solid and healthy foundation.”
“I did all that?”
“You helped start it,” he said. “Having your trust allowed us to trust others, to want to be worthy of trust. Your kindness inspired kindness. The confidence true friendship inspires can really help you grow.”
“I think I know what you mean,” she said. “I’m glad I met you too. But if you really think all those things about me, why didn’t you want me to come here? I mean, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to explain that to me I should just respect your decison, I just wanted to help-.”
“I know,” he said. “But the feelings for you are… complicated. And we’ve had our share of complicated feelings, about many things, but somehow these are complicated in a way that isn’t bad. Just new.”
“I see,”
“Your friends are over here,” he said as they stopped, pointing to the grand building Hunter’s mind had conjured to store his dreams. “Sorry, our friends are over there. See? Still new.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Are you… gonna remember telling me all this?”
“Maybe,” he said. “This mind has been through a lot, fact and fiction merge and blur and change so much that some memories are hard to trust. But at the end of the day, we’re not afraid of you knowing how much we care about you. Because you deserve to be reminded of how special you are.”
“Wow, thanks,” she said, blushing.
“You better get to them, there’s not much time,” he said. “They’ve unlocked some pretty serious nightmares.”
“How do I save them from such a dark nightmare?” She asked looking on as clouds surrounding the building.
“You just find a brighter dream,” he said simply, looking at her.
-
In no time, the three girls sprang forth, unharmed but not unshaken as Willow’s presence helped free them from Caleb’s memory of Philip. Hunter woke up begrudgingly as the trio gathered their bearings.
“We have a lead! We have a lead!” Said Luz, rising to her feet. “And we didn’t set anything on fire!”
“I feel like that shouldn’t be as common and you all keep suggesting,” groaned Hunter as he sat up, his head aching.
“There might be another portal,” said Amity ignoring his question. “We found a bunch of Caleb’s memories from earth and Luz says she’s seen the places nearby. It might be a clue, we need a map!”
The two rushed out of the room to grab the history book Hunte that soften early that contained map of the town from hears ago. Willow had exited with Luz and Amauri but remained quiet as they rushed theough their findings.
“You okay Gus?” She asked.
“Yeah, just dehydrated I’m gonna grab a juice box while they’re liking for the map,” he said darting out of the room.
“What about you?” She asked turning to Hunter.
“Me? Uh, no thanks I don’t want to a juicebox,”
“No, are you okay?” She asked with a laugh. “If I remember this part correctly you probably have a really bad headache right now.”
“Well, maybe a little…” he admitted, taking a deep breath. “Thank you for helping them, Captain.”
“So you remember then huh?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I know you respected my request and only went in to save me. Thankfully, my inner self is a more eloquent speaker. He’s had more practice. So I hope you understood why-?”
“Everyone needs privacy,” reassured Willow. “It’s good to set boundaries, but just know I’m here whenever you want to talk.”
“Thank you, Captain,” said Hunter, glad to know there was no resentment. “By the way, uh, you didn’t happen to see anything else whe you where in there, right? Like after you left the inner Hunter you didn’t like look around did you?”
“Why? Was there something specific you-?”
“No, no!” Hunter stuttered, not wanting to go into detail. “Just, uh, wondering is all.”
“Nothing embarrassing, I promise,” she said with a chuckle, sitting beside him a she heard Amity and Luz begin running down the hallway. She placed her hand strategically close to his. “But can I ask you a totally random question?”
“Yeah, what?”
“How long do you think it would take for you to grow a goatee?”
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mollymauk-teafleak · 11 months
Text
as if it might turn out this time
So I'm on my gf mandated Tom Cruise Cruise and guess which film jumped out and grabbed me by the throat! So enjoy this Edge of Tomorrow icemav au, made possible with enormous thanks to my lovely @hangsters!
Please reblog and comment over on Ao3!
---------
Sergeant Tom Kazansky is a battle hardened solider known as the Iceman, he's killed hundreds of mimics across multiple time loops, he's the freaking Angel of Verdun.
But he's never come across someone like Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell.
Because this time, Maverick's the one in control. He's the one in the loop, he knows whats coming.
At least until something takes them both by surprise.
--------
Apparently they had two hours. That’s what Maverick said anyway. Even though IIce had never seen a still moment in this war since it began, that’s what Maverick said. 
And he’d followed him this far. 
‘This far’ was the decaying corpse of the Lyon countryside, it was a hastily abandoned farmhouse in the middle of the overgrown fields and cracked, scarred roads. And if Maverick was telling the truth, Ice had followed him even further than this, thousands of miles across the same day played out fuck knew how many times. More versions of himself than it was comfortable to think about, getting reset over and over whenever the guy pulling them through it all couldn’t go any further. Time itself apparently stopping and restarting with Maverick’s heart.
It would be impossible to believe if Ice hadn’t done it himself. 
 “You don’t need to stand guard. I told you, we’re good for two hours.”
Ice looked over his shoulder, into the converted farmhouse where Maverick was getting embers going in the fireplace. The frenetic energy they’d rolled here on, the sidestepping obstacles like they were doing some kind of complicated dance, the one-two-three-one-two-three-one that got them off that beach and it’s slice of hell, it had stilled for now. They had two hours, like Maverick said, and he was filling a kettle, for crying out loud, so he was either correct or insane. Depending on how many resets he’d been through, it could well be both. 
“Walk me through it one more time,” Ice said with a poor attempt at patience, “If we have two hours why aren’t we just taking that helicopter and heading for the dam right now? Why aren’t we using every second to get to the omega, kill it and save the whole of humanity?”
Maverick didn’t respond to the snap in Ice’s tone, just setting the kettle on the hook above the low fire and then heading back to the kitchenette, to the cabinet where he already knew the mugs would be. Movements practiced and precise, exactly like a soldier. Odd, when Ice had clocked Major Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell as a showpony, as a recruitment tool, the moment he saw him on television screens flashing those white teeth and giving polished, repainted updates on the invasion. Clearly whatever he’d been through since getting stuck in the loop had taken that poster boy and turned him into something else. At least he still had the nice smile. 
“We can’t do that because the moment you go outside and start up that helicopter, a mimic bursts out of that south field and attacks. Same for if you try and start siphoning the gas into the truck,” Maverick recounted it all as he busied himself, pulling a spoon out of a drawer, “And this happens whether you do it right now or whether you sneak out at any point in the next two hours, thinking I’m not looking.”
Ice had the same uncomfortable sensation he felt when he looked at his own x-rays, a feeling like someone had seen something they weren’t meant to. He set his jaw and loped to one of the chairs, sinking into it like he was trying to prove he could relax. He was rewarded with a cloud of dust and a shooting pain through his hip. 
“The other one’s more comfortable,” Maverick called, perfectly on beat, “It’s better for your leg.”
“For my leg?” Ice shot back, the pain making his voice sharper than he meant, turning the surprise into a challenge. Maybe because he knew he should have shopped being surprised long before this. 
“You told me about that injury you took in Verdun, the one that never healed right,” again, Maverick didn’t react to the snappishness, making Ice wonder how grumpy he’d been in all of the other runs, “How you don’t tell anyone because they’ll ground you. I can rub your leg down for you, that always helps?”
Ice felt his cheeks flame, ducking his face even though Maverick wasn’t even looking at him. There had been comments like that here and there, ones that had mostly passed Ice by as he’d focused on training, on hitting that beach and surviving each step forward. But now it was occurring to Ice, hours later than anyone normal would have noticed, that he was definitely being flirted with. 
But not even the forward, slightly aggressive way military guys usually flirted with him and then promptly gave up when they realized they may as well have been trying to fuck a glacier. Maverick spoke to him, looked at him, offered things selflessly to him the way you would with someone you’d been married to for decades. Like there was a comfort to having Ice there, like Maverick somehow saw reassurance in the hard, fierce Angel of Verdun. Something no one else had seen, not even Ice himself. 
“So I don’t tell anyone but I told you?” he stared into the low fire, just to give his eyes somewhere to settle. He wasn’t sure why he was pushing back, why he was throwing more roadblocks against this strange kindness, “What other secrets have I told you while we’ve been fighting for our lives, out of interest?”
Maverick actually laughed, bringing two mugs over to where the kettle was now singing out a plume of warm steam, “Let’s see…I know you have a cat, your sister’s looking after her while you’re deployed. I know you played football in college. Linebacker, obviously, look at your shoulders. I know you suck at driving a stick shift. I know you have nightmares. I know you have freckles on your shoulders…I know you’re probably blushing like crazy right now…”
Ice started a little at that one, sinking a little lower in the chair he was still insisting on sitting on. 
“And,” Maverick turned, holding two mugs that he seemed to have magicked out of thin air, “I know you miss coffee like crazy. So here. Black, two sugars, right?”
He held one out to Ice, grinning at the expression on his face as he took it. Ice didn’t need to say anything, Maverick  was right, of course. Maverick had been right about everything and would be, until whatever misstep got him killed and reset the clock. Or until they saved the world. 
“Seems like all the previous versions of me were pretty chatty,” Ice hummed into his mug though his eyes didn’t leave the strange partner the universe had given him.
Maverick perched on the small side table right next to Ice’s chair rather than taking the other one for himself. Probably just to be closer to the fire, the thin under armor they were wearing was designed to have eighty five pounds of metal exoskeleton around it so it didn't keep much heat in. Especially when they were torn, bloodstained and somehow still drying from their brief dip in the Normandy sea.
“Chatty? Fuck no,” he chuckled, folding one leg under himself, proving again that this wasn’t a man used to standing to attention, “I’ve just gotten good at listening to you.”
Ice glanced away from Maverick at that, like he’d suddenly become a source of light too bright to look at without pain. He looked into his mug instead, trying to focus on the swirls of steam leaving his mug. Trying to enjoy a moment of quiet when life had been so chaotic and frantic for the last year. 
Maverick didn’t seem to mind the lack of an answer or maybe he found his answer elsewhere, in some silent way. He’d drained half his mug already, probably scalded his tongue in the process and set it aside to lean closer. 
“Let me see,” he prompted gently. 
Ice felt like he’d blushed more in the last twenty minutes than he had his whole life, “Excuse me?”
Maverick’s smile turned up at the edge and he pointed towards Ice’s shoulder, “Let me see.”
Ice opened his mouth to protest before snapping it shut again, sighing. What good was a lifetime’s worth of carefully cultivated stubbornness against a man that had all the time in the world. He shifted gingerly, setting his mug down next to Maverick’s to pull off his shirt, wincing as sweat and semi dried blood clung on stubbornly. After a moment, he felt a second set of hands helping, the pain easing as Maverick’s warmer skin brushed his own. 
“It’s not that bad,” he mumbled a little sourly, like a small child trying to defend himself after doing something he shouldn’t have, “Looks worse than it is.”
Mav’s eyebrow raised, “Oh yeah, sure…”
Ice wasn't strictly lying, he’d had far worse injuries than the puncture wound just a little ways in from where his left arm met his shoulder. A piece of flying debris had caught him just before they’d cleared the drop site, in one of the few places where the mech suits had to sacrifice coverage for movement. It had been a brief burning sensation, a dull pain and then quickly forgotten in the adrenaline, following Maverick like a beacon through the slice of hell that had opened up back on that beach. 
“You never get moving as quickly as I tell you to after we land,” Maverick tsked fondly, gently studying the wound with its layers of cracked, drying blood and fingers of fast rising bruise snaking out from it all the way along Ice’s clavicle. 
“Can’t break the habit I guess,” Ice grunted at the press of his fingers, as careful as he was trying to be, “I’m the squad leader. I’m supposed to wait until everyone else has dropped.”
Saying that made a sudden, sharp grief rise in his chest, a fresh layer to the pain. The thought of the men he’d left behind back on that beach, the ones he was supposed to lead and protect. If this run was the one, if they saved the world, those men, the closest thing he’d had to friends would stay dead. 
Thinking of Slider was the hardest. Slider, with his booming voice and bad jokes and comforting presence at Ice’s right shoulder. Slider with his wife serving as a volunteer field nurse, his twin baby daughters at home. They’d been together since basic training, he’d been the one Ice had tried to explain Verdun to, run after run, until Ice realized it was safer if he didn’t know. If Ice just focused on winning that battle and protecting his friend. He’d managed it back then but there had always been that cold, uncomfortable knowledge that there would be one time where Ice wouldn’t be able to save Slider. 
Knowing about it in advance didn’t make living it any easier. 
Maverick must have seen the shift in Ice’s face, he took his other shoulder in a comforting grip, “Hey. I’m sorry.”
Ice looked up at him, at the sincerity in his face, the understanding. Knowing what someone was going through and wishing you could have saved them from it. 
“I know,” Ice swallowed hard, “Who’d you lose?”
Maverick tilted his head slightly, his smile growing softly pained, “You.” 
He left Ice with that, getting the rest of the water from the kettle, taking it back to the kitchen. He came back with a chipped bowl, white cloth, bandages that must have been tucked under the sink. 
“Sorry if this hurts,” Maverick hummed, aiming for his usual light tone, “We didn’t have time to cover field medicine in training, mostly just how to not get my head chopped off by a mimic and how to turn the safety off my suit.”
“Fuck,” Ice laughed shortly, leaning back so Maverick could start gently cleaning off the wound, “You were really that bad?”
“Worse than you’re imagining,” he gave him that smile Ice had seen on so many TV screens, selling the United Defence Force, like he’d just pulled it out of a hat, “I can look real pretty on an enlistment ad though.” 
Ice laughed, “I’ll give you that one…would have worked on me…”
“Oh?” Maverick’s face softened into a more natural, more pure smile, like those words had been enough to delight him. 
“Well…yeah,” Ice shrugged with the one shoulder Mav wasn’t cleaning out, “Shut up.”
“Didn’t say anything,” Mav grinned, the bowl of water now the color of rust, switching to the roll of bandages, “Drink your coffee, Sergeant.”
Ice did. Maverick was right, he had missed it like crazy. He could almost forget about the low thrum of pain in his shoulder, the empty stomach sickness left behind by fleeing adrenaline, the raw, frayed edges of his nerves, some of which were still calling for this stillness they’d found to erupt in screams and bangs and chaos, just to get it over with. Ice pushed that instinct away, got it to fade into static along with the hurt. If Maverick said they had two hours, they had two hours. He was the one person on this planet even Tom “Iceman” Kazansky couldn’t find reason to doubt. 
“Y’know, I’m kind of jealous,” he observed lightly, mouth seeming to have detached itself from his brain and running off by itself, “Of you still having the power, I mean.” 
“Yeah, you've said that before,” Mav chuckled, finally happy with how he’d tied the bandages and sitting back. His gaze flickered to Ice, like he knew what he was going to say but was letting him say it anyway. 
“I know it’s because I’m a control freak,” Ice hummed, tapping his fingers against the chipped tin of the mug, “Saving the entire world was just on my shoulders, I had all the time in the world and I didnt have to worry about anyone else fucking it up. It was all up to me.”
“Yeah,” Maverick tilted his head, “Up to you to die over and over. Sacrifice yourself until an ancient hive mind alien had to change its plans because you were so damn stubborn.”
Ice looked at Maverick steadily, for once not letting himself be afraid to really study the other man’s face. There was a lot there that was familiar, the general air of resignation, the bags under the eyes, the ease of invincibility. Back when Ice had picked up the reset back in the very first battle of Verdun- the only battle anyone else ever saw- he’d felt completely alone. He’d felt like an alien himself, like in amongst it all he’d forgotten how to be human, even after a blood transfusion had unknowingly tethered him back to time. He’d told himself it didn’t matter, he was a soldier, a damn near perfect one, and that’s all he had to be.
But he’d never imagined that one day he’d look into someone else’s face and see that same feeling. That maybe they’re was more he could do for Mav than teach him to be faster, stronger, how to use the weapons in his hands and send him into the breach. That maybe he might actually be able to help someone, to be the steady, calming voice he’d never had to say it’s going to be okay, you’re still you. 
“We’ve got two hours, right?” Ice murmured, aware that he’d been lost in thought for a long moment. 
“One hour and twenty,” Maverick corrected gently, though there was a soft hope in his dark eyes, “Close enough.”
It would do. If there was anything this war had taught Ice, it was how to make the most of every second. 
Maverick’s lips were already waiting for Ice’s but there was something comforting about this particular inevitability, the idea that the soft, sweet things were as predetermined as the bad, even if they didn’t stick around as long. The kiss opened up into something deeper, Ice’s more mobile hand coming up to grasp the back of Maverick’s shirt, Maverick himself cradling Ice’s face like he was trying to hold him in place, hold him in this moment. It was messy, rushed, like two teenagers in the back of a car, like both of them were sure they’d be yanked apart at any moment and had to fill every second with each other. 
All thoughts of the invasion, the rest of the human race, what was possible and what was impossible, it all faded into a meaningless dial tone in the back of Ice’s mind as Maverick came in to straddle his lap. Even breathing became a secondary concern against Maverick’s tongue brushing against his own, his thumbs brushing across his cheekbones, that heartbeat thumping against his own. Ice was left gasping, snatching lungfuls of air in the spare seconds before he willingly sank back into this quiet bliss.
Maverick drew back to yank off his shirt, dog tags rattling. To his surprise, Ice found himself shaking for the first time in nearly a year, like fucking another man was terrifying when a beach full of horror wasn’t. But Maverick caught his hands, pressing kisses to the scarred knuckles, soothing those tremors. Like there was nothing shameful about it.
“Have we done this before?” Ice breathed, voice shaking slightly, like it was struggling to contain all this hunger. 
He wasn’t sure why he asked, why he was wasting time when he could be testing the limits of his repaired shoulder. Maybe he wanted to reassure himself, confirm that this was all part of the plan. That there had been other versions of himself who’d been allowed this brief selfishness. 
And that there would be others after. 
Maverick flashed him a grin, breathless excitement alight on his face, “Kind of…”
“Kind of?” Ice half laughed, voice strained by a poorly held back moan as Maverick rose up enough that he could draw his trousers down. 
Underneath he wasn’t strong but lithe, tightly wired muscle, skin softer than Ice thought possible when he took hold of his hips. He had freckles scattered across his stomach, scars that Ice immediately wanted to know the story behind, a light dusting of dark hair leading down from his navel. He drank every detail in with uncharacteristic greed as his hands slid down to press daringly against the hardness in his boxers. 
“Here’s the thing…” Maverick rolled against that pressure, eyes dark as his pupils swelled, “I’ve been doing the same day over and over for fuck knows how long now. And also much of it is identical, I know exactly what's coming down to every minute…”
The boxers were gone too now, just burning skin against his hand. Things were coming loose, unraveling at the edges but every word of Maverick’s ran right to his heart. 
“But you, Tom Kazansky, no matter how many times I do this…” Maverick moved back so close until they were nose to nose, forehead to forehead, “You never stop surprising me.”
Ice was aware of Maverick’s heartbeat before he was aware of his own.
The other man was burrowed against Ice’s chest like he wanted to live inside his rib cage, his thumping heartbeat a thread that he followed back up into the waking world. It came slow and sluggish, Ice’s body reluctant to stumble out of the first decent sleep he’d had in a long time. Consciousness came in other pieces of Maverick, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. His dark hair ticking Ice’s jaw, his fingers gently resting on his hip, his steady breath across Ice’s collarbone, the skin of his back warmed by the fire, now down to less than embers. 
Ice frowned. If the fire was dead, where was that orange light coming from?
The answer brought a shock like cold water. Outside the window, the sun was setting. 
“Fuck,” Ice bolted upright, giving Maverick a much less gentle awakening as he was nearly tipped onto the floor. 
“What?” he mumbled groggily, trying to still cling to Ice on instinct. 
“We’ve slept too long,” Ice shook his head, scrambling up, reaching for his clothes, “It’s been way more than two hours. Fuck…”
Maverick somehow looked smaller, left in the chair on his own, like some piece of him had left with Ice. The guilt boiling hot in his chest jerked and twisted into sudden anger, why wasn’t he moving, why was he just sitting there, didn’t he know they had a mission to complete?
“Where are the keys to that helicopter?” he demanded, words quick and bitten off like he didn’t even have time for them. 
Mav sat up, wincing a little, “Tom, listen-”
“No,” Ice shook his head firmly, “No, we had our fun but we’re wasting time now, we need to get back to the mission. It’s still going to take us hours to fly to Switzerland and get to the dam. I know you know where the keys are, Maverick, we’ve done this before so tell me and let's go.”
Maverick flinched a little, biting down on his lower lip. He moved for his clothes too, but slower, more gingerly, making Ice want to scream. 
“Look, I’ll tell you where the keys are but you’re going to hear me out first,” Maverick set his jaw desperately, yanking his shirt over his head, “I’ll go. I’ll go to the dam, I’ll wrap this up but you stay here, okay?”
Ice froze in the middle of tying his boots, staring at him in confusion, “Excuse me?”
Maverick had a look on his face like a man standing before a losing battle. Surely something he was familiar with by now. 
“Please, Tom,” he kept using that name, that name Ice didn’t know how to connect to himself anymore, “I…I don’t know how to explain it so you’ll see, can you just trust me? You need to stay here, you can’t go to Switzerland.” 
“What the hell are you talking about, soldier?” Ice narrowed his eyes, aware that there was something he wasn’t quite seeing, something on the edge of his vision that was rushing towards him. 
For the first time since he’d known him, or at least since this version of him had known him, Maverick looked uncertain. More than that, he looked terrified. So much of Ice wanted to take him back in his arms, comfort him and promise him that everything was going to be okay even though he had no idea. But that was exactly the problem. 
So Ice dragged that part of him back into the guilt and the shame and the anger, and focused instead on the fact that Maverick’s eyes kept flickering back to the kitchen. 
He’d said Ice kept surprising him and he proved it now, getting ahead of him, too quick for the hands that tried to reach for his shoulders. Sure enough, there was a set of keys hanging there on the wall, alongside empty hooks that were probably meant to hold the car keys the family that owned the farmhouse escaped with. Ice grabbed them, felt them bite into his tightly closed fists as he marched out of the back door, trying to deafen himself to Maverick’s pleading even as he felt it break his heart. 
“Tom! Tom, for God’s sake, can you stop being the world’s most stubborn bastard for five seconds and look at me!”
Ice turned sharply, trying to imagine his mech suit around him, trying to imagine that he was strong, that nothing could reach him, “Fine. I’m looking at you. Now explain to me why I can’t get in that helicopter and do my goddamn duty.”
Maverick gripped his shoulder, like that alone would be enough to pin Ice down, “Because if you do, you die.” 
His voice actually broke as he said it, like out of all the death he must have seen, others and his own, this was the one he couldn’t take. 
“I’ve tried every single way I can think of, I’ve done everything I can but it never works,” the exhaustion was now obvious on Maverick’s face as he spoke, like Ice could finally see the mark that each run had left on him, “If you get in that helicopter, if you take one more step past this point, you die and I can’t stop it. I’ve reset over and over but every time-”
“Wait,” Ice’s voice was strained and slight, brittle with shock but it stopped Maverick all the same, “You…have you been resetting just because I died?”
Maverick bit his lower lip again, his chest rising, like words were building but he was scared to let them go. It was all the answer Ice needed. 
“Mav…” he swallowed hard, feeling a weight pressing down on his chest, “It’s the whole world at stake here. It’s the whole goddamn world.”
“I know…” Maverick met his eyes, helpless, “But it’s you.”
For the first time, Ice realized that while he’d been broken, burned, crushed repeatedly every time he’d thrown himself at the battle of Verdun, there was a deeper hurt to these endless repeating loops. One he hadn’t ever had to feel because he’d never let himself but Maverick was braver than that. Ice couldn’t even imagine the pain of it, of coming to love him, to know him so deeply, run after run. And to look into each fresh set of Ice’s eyes and know he didn’t feel the same because he just didn’t know Maverick.
“Pete…” Ice tried to steady himself, not even sure what he was about to say. 
But it didn’t matter. Their time was up. 
That sound, that painful inorganic chattering that they knew too well, ripping the still air in two. Ice snapped to attention, turned, put himself between Maverick and the gaining mimics but he was reaching for guns that weren’t there. They’d had their two hours, they’d overstayed their welcome and now they were cornered, their punishment bursting from the ground and rushing towards them. 
“Helicopter!” Mav yelled by Ice’s ear and he obeyed, rushing forward but the mimics were faster, their writhing black forms like glitches in nature itself rising over the roof, skittering over the fence, swarming. 
Ice knew the taste of a doomed run. He knew how this ended. 
But still, in spite of it all, he turned, went backwards rather than forwards, shoved hard. Maverick went stumbling back into the facsimile of safety inside the farmhouse, Ice on his heels, the door slamming shut with death on the other side. It wouldn’t hold for long but Ice didn’t need long. 
As the mimics screamed outside and beat on the walls, he took Maverick’s face in his hands and kissed him, trying to find that peace again. He tasted tears on the other man’s lips, felt his arms shake as they wrapped around him but it was close enough. 
“Listen,” Ice panted, pulling away enough to speak, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Pete but if it comes down to me or the world, you need to choose them. I’m not worth it.”
Maverick’s breath caught as he shook his head, “I wish I didn’t know you.”
“I know,” Ice swallowed hard. Glass broke in the kitchen, they’d found their way inside. They had moments, seconds. 
“I wish I didn’t know you,” Maverick gasped again, “But I do. I know you, Tom.”
Ice didn’t have time to try and figure out what that meant, if the stubborn man in his arms was going to listen or not. It didn’t matter, not to this version of him anyway.
Ice just tried to be glad that this time, he wasn’t alone when he died. 
Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.
Ice counted his pushups steadily in his head as he rose up and down. If he counted, he wasn’t thinking about the throb of pain in his arms. If he counted, he was apart from the air of tension about the military base, the taste of fear in the air as the next morning’s attack crept closer. It was all uneasy jokes, too loud laughter, brittle smiles. It would all turn to screams by tomorrow as soon as they hit that beach.
Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. 
He’d been training by himself in the hangar all afternoon, excusing himself from the drills the fresh meat were doing. No one said anything, they never did. No one was about to try and pull rank on the Angel of Verdun, they just studied him the way they always did, a little apprehensively, like they were trying to learn the secret to survival in the few seconds as he strode past them. The thought had just enough grim humor to it to curl the edges of his mouth into a smile. 
Eighteen. Nineteen…twenty…twenty one…
Footsteps. Ringing out loudly across the metal floor of the hangar where he trained, interrupting his rhythm. Ice turned, teeth already bared in frustration. 
“Yes?” he rose to his feet, ready to unleash his irritation. 
It took him a moment to place Captain ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, he’d never seen him in the flesh, only projected up on a screen, leaning back in a TV studio with that inherently punchable grin and wearing his uniform like a costume. Well, it didn’t seem as though the United Defence Force’s poster boy was doing so well, walking up to him a little too fast with a shell shocked expression and a rumbled uniform that looked very obviously naked, stripped of its insignias. Maybe not Captain, then. Private. Which meant Ice didn’t have to put up with any bullshit. 
“Who let you in here?” he bristled, hoping the guy would just turn and go running. 
But this Maverick didn’t even slow, just walking right up to Ice, far closer than he was comfortable with. Until he stopped, just as suddenly as he’d appeared, the strangest expression on his face, like he’d been following the steps of a dance and the music had just cut out. 
“Well?” Ice stepped back, unnerved. What the hell was wrong with this guy?
“Sargeant Kazansky…” Maverick began but trailed off, brow furrowing a little. 
“You’ve found him,” Ice tilted his head, something oddly familiar about the look on his face. 
But Maverick just shook his head, a decision clear on his face, “Sorry. Never mind. Didn’t mean to bother you, Sergeant.”
And he left Ice with that, turning on his heel and walking out. Ice was seized by the sudden desire to call out, get him to stop, grab his shoulder and make him explain, the oddest sensation like the train he needed was pulling away from the station without him on it. But Maverick was gone before he could decide whether or not to follow that mad impulse, disappearing into the square of daylight at the mouth of the hangar. 
Ice exhaled softly, the irritation burned away but nothing to fill the space it had occupied in his chest. He told himself to let go of it, making himself shrug and sink back down to the floor. Whatever was wrong with Maverick, he didn’t have the time to deal with it. Tomorrow was on its way, whether they liked it or not and every second was going to count. 
No one knew that better than Ice. 
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totisviribus · 1 year
Text
Born to be Consumable
Girlhood* is all about this exhausting, pointless wandering to collect berries in our baskets because the world makes us too timid to grow our own fruit. Pave our own way, be different from how the world understands what a girl should be? Of course not. Our very existence is a nuisance, therefore we must not cause any trouble. We must be simple to understand. What kind of girl are you? They give us plenty of labels to choose from, how can we not just pick one? Hot, weird, ugly, smart, too girly, not girly enough, a tom boy, a slut, wanted, unwanted, troubled, ADHD, fucked in the head, strange, too fat, awkward, basic, a prude, annoying, magnetic, special, talented, autistic, boring, in need of a makeover, too skinny, fun, the main character, a mean girl, a party girl, a guy's girl, the it girl, "that" girl, the dark academia girl, the artsy girl, not like other girls?
The world thinks women, young and old and in between, are billboards and we must loom large and bright over our cities whether we like it or not. Our text must be clear and big and easy to see from the highway. We can't be presumptuous enough to think that people will make the effort to squint at confusing text and illegible fonts they've never seen before. People need a clear advertising message. Otherwise they'll look the other way, buy from a different brand. What are we? They want to know at first glance. In seconds, moments. We're a brand, a type, a trope. There cannot be nuance, contradictions, abnormalities, change, growth, variety. The customer is always right, they say.
It took me twenty-six years to realize that I'm not in the business of selling myself on that billboard. I can no longer strategize, I can no longer mask, I can no longer pay the price of repainting that billboard over and over again, each time more painful than the last. I will be no one and nothing and I will rest. I've scraped off all the layers, down to the original hue. I don't want the attention, the examination, the interest. There will be no going out of business sale. The previous version of me that lives on a dusty Facebook profile and cries night after night because I'm not Rory Gilmore or Miley Cyrus or Megan Fox will be fished out of a bargain bin at TJ Maxx, eventually.
I was born to be consumable; I will never be able to take the billboard of my girlhood down. It will sit blank and decay over time.
But I can finally live, now that I am no longer killing myself to be understood.
*The gendered language in this letter is not used with the intention of excluding people who are trans or those that are non-binary. It was written with my experience as a cis woman in mind, but it is in no way an assertion that only cis women are hurt by the effects of being socialized as female, or to the same degree. The last thing I want is for anyone to feel excluded by my letters, especially given the recent hatred against the trans community by a certain famous author. My blog will always be a kind, loving, welcoming, safe space for everyone. ♡Maeve
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skitskatdacat63 · 2 months
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i think at this point you're snooping in my ancient art folder LOL
(there are ways to make, but it involves lots of nendo spare sparts you can find online + waterslide decals + and a painful need for spray paint... it's not impossible but boy hand pain... )
Who's to say I'm not great minds think alike‼️‼️
God I wish I had the level of dedication to build my own Nando Nendo, or any nendo. I've seen people make their own nendos and pop figures and I just stare longingly, like, ah I wish I had even an remote interest in physical art </3 It's a shame how I've watched so many customization/repaint vids across the years and like still have absolutely no motivation to ever make my own sob sob. Doll customizers I have my nose pressed up against the window.
But please omg 005, we could collab, make our own line of little nendoroid redraws, little guys, little nandos and sebs etc 🤧🤧 YOURS IS SOOOO CUTE!!!!!! His hair is so perfect and fluffy, and it fits the style so well!! But god if I ever actually end up drawing one like you did, it's so over, that's the only thing I can draw for the rest of my life. There's so many little variants of nando and seb I'd want to draw....
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rebsinthevoid · 1 year
Note
Bruh. The tags in your last post about buying the shadow statue. MOOD.
IM GLAD SOMEONE ELSE FEELS MY PAIN! Also I'm gonna use this as an opportunity to blab about some sonic figure stuff because I have so much to say and no one irl to torture with it- hope that's okay lol
So this is my favorite F4F shadow:
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LOOK HOW CUTE HE IS I NEED HIM ON MY SHELF!! ALSO HES ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE!! Even the super shadow varient is sick as hell?? I adore the base with the stars- he just looks so sick. There's someone a few hours away from me selling theirs for like $200 off online but even then I can't justify it. Maybe. I love F4F and their attention to detail is great- so I'm not gonna be one of those people that whines about them being overpriced, buuuut I do wish there was more of a middle ground between "Jakks pacific Walmart toy that they forgot to paint eyeballs on" and "$600 shadow waifu statue that needs a small forklift to get into my house"
Anyway, runner up is this S-Fire SA2 figure that they teased a while ago at a few shows (AND AN UNPAINTED PROTO VERSION THAT LOOKS SICK TOO) but as far as I can tell it hasn't come out yet or even technically been officially announced:
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The Soap shoes!!! The SA smile!!! THEYRE DOING THE FUCKING POSES AND EVERYTHING!!! I would sell my soul for this one ngl and my guess is that's about how much it'll cost when it's finally announced 🥲
This little guy on the other hand I may scoop up on Ebay in a while since he's usually around $40~ish and is surprisingly well made for his price point I think:
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He's tiny and adorable to me and I love how itty bitty he looks next to the Koko lol. His colors are so pretty and I really wish they would stop shoving ugly seams at the base of his quills but oh well he's still adorable. I've seen a few too many with some weird production issues that it worries me to buy his closed-box but I'll definitely obtain him one day <3
On the other hand, I finally found this little guy at target yesterday and I adore him:
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He's the buildable shadow from Just Toys and I know he's been on Amazon but I like picking stuff up in person and I heard his nose is pretty breakable due to poor package design in shipping so I wanted to wait until I found him in person to get him. I'll be honest he's jank as hell- he has terrible paint in places and his poor ears have horrible de-molding issues and his head doesn't stay on and his feat aren't flat- BUT HES PERFECT TO ME! I repainted him today and he looks much better. He's surprisingly large and sturdy for his price (like $12?) And feels WAAAAAY more like a figure than a toy. Idk when this turned into a review but hey 6/10, buy him on sale and repaint him with some $0.10 paint and call it a day.
Okay this is getting long so lastly, my friends got me this guy for my birthday and I just need y'all to see him again:
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This is a Tubbz figure, and I'm usually very much a Funko pop style brand hater, but my god they do this little gimmick so well and I adore him so so much?? Hes absolutely massive, he's sturdy and not really squeezable like a real rubber duck, but for the how much he costs I ain't gonna squeeze him anyway. His little emerald is adorable and I love his little nose and he comes in a sonic branded bath tub and he is eternally banished to live in my PC case so that my cat can't get a hold of him. This little hunk of plastic brings me so much joy.
Okay that concludes my quick sonic figure rant- thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
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shinrakotls · 5 months
Text
#SAKAMOTODAYS143leaks
"Entry"
Pg.1
Editor's note: Slur has planted a bomb inside one of his own!! The devil's hand is closing on the JAA!! Slur: The Order will surely be by Asaki's side. In other words, if Mafuyu or Toramaru challenges the Order and get killed instantly... Slur: Then the bombs inside their body will detonate, damaging both the Order and Asaki. Carolina Reaper: Back then, I had wondered why you'd let those two brats join us. So this is the reason why..
Pg.2 (flashback)
Slur: It was a necessary move. I need pawns that haven't got their license yet, whom had never attended the JCC.. They will not be marked by the JAA. Haruma: But you know.. they'll probably die before they can get close to the Order. Gaku: They're so fuckin' weak. Slur: Yes, and that's why I need you to train them, Gaku. Train them enough to make the Order think that they're enemies worth killing. Gaku: What a pain...
Pg.3 (present)
Shin: Mafuyu! Slur is just using you! Mafuyu: ...I know. It's the bomb, right? I don't care if it blows up after I die anyway. Shin: The heck are you saying... Mafuyu: More importantly, I'm here today so that I can defeat an Order member.. And seriously, Shin-kun, can you stop getting in my way already?
Pg.4
Shin: Why are you so obsessed with the Order?! Mafuyu: ...! It's none of your business. Shin: How is it none of my business when you're on Slur's side?! Do you know how many casualties there will be?! Mafuyu: Tch! Mafuyu: Even so, I.. *Shin peeks into Mafuyu's mind and sees Mafuyu recalling a moment of him & Natsuki when they were little* Shin: !
Pg.5
Shin: Seba...? Mafuyu: ! Mafuyu: Like I said, it's none of your business! Shin: !? Guard: Don't move! You brats are the ones fighting earlier, right?! Guard 2: We got ya. We'll make you two leave the building right away.
Pg.6
*Mafuyu kicks Shin in the midsection* Shin: Grk!! Guard, to Shin: Hey! Stand up properly! *Mafuyu does a flying knee kick to the guard that's restraining Shin & then he steps on Shin's head before running off*
Pg.7
Shin: That jerk... I'll kill him!! Guard: Stay still!!! Shin: Oof!! Shin, powering up his power glove: That's it, you guys...
Pg.8
Asaki: Fantastic! It's true what they say: A great assassin is a great artist. Museum guide: I'm so glad you liked it! If the museum was closed, I'd have been able to give you a more smooth tour. Asaki: I don't like having my time restricted. I enjoy the freedom of being able to go wherever I want and whenever I want to.
Pg.9
Guide: I've heard that your personal collection runs into tens of thousands, Chairman. Which genre do you particularly like? Asaki: Well.. I don't really know. I don't remember much about my collection. Guide: Huh? Asaki: I like the added value of brands. Adding value to trashy things like this allows me to appreciate the history, life and culture of mankind. Even animals could never replicate. Guide: I... see.. Haha... Asaki: By the way...
Pg.10
Asaki: Don't you think this would look good in our office toilet? Nagumo & Shishiba (thinking): There he goes... Guide: That's a tangible cultural property that isn't for sale. Moreover, that item is currently on loan from the Tate Britain so please don't touch it with your bare hands... Jiji subordinate: ... Noted. Jiji, to Asaki: We just acquired the Tate Britain. Asaki: Thank you, Watarai. Have it delivered to my office. Watarai (jiji): Got it, Sir. Guide: ...!
Pg.11
Asaki: Oh, right! This is already old and dirty, so have someone repaint and fix the art and the picture frame. Watarai: Yes, Sir. Guide: Wha... Guide, to Asaki: This work is historically valuable! Asaki: But it's dirty.. Listen, I can't display something as dirty as this in my room, can I? Guide: Tch!! Nagumo (thinking): He's extremely selfish and does whatever he wants.. And whatever he decides on, he'll do whatever it takes to make it happen. That's Chairman Asaki of the JAA... Asaki: *happily humming a tune*
Pg.12
PA System: Announcement - "Super Lost Child Notice. Black hair, wearing a gas mask and cargo pants. Any nearby personnels are to protect them as soon as you see them." Guard 1: "Super Lost"... that's the code word for a dangerous person. Guard 2: "If found, dispose them immediately." Shishiba: They're here. Nagumo: Well then...
Pg.13
Nagumo, Shishiba & Osaragi (rock-scissors-paper): Winner goes. Shin: Hey wait up, you jerk!! I'll never forgive you!! Mafuyu: Sheesh... You're persistent.. Mafuyu, shouting: Uwaaaa! I'm so scared!! Someone's attacking me!! Shin: Huh?!! Guard: Hm?
Pg.14
*Several guards come by and restrain Shin* Shin: Hey, come on! Let go of me! That guy's- Guard: Quit struggling! *Mafuyu gets inside the elevator but as the door closes, Shin manages to pry the doors open & jumps inside* Shin: horaaaaaa!!! Shin: Yo... Finally got you cornered. Mafuyu: ...
Pg.15
*As the elevator door shuts, Mafuyu caught sight of Osaragi who was walking towards the elevator & she's staring right at him* Elevator: Going down. Shin: Hey! Don't you have something to say to me?! Mafuyu: Here she comes... Shin: Huh?
Pg.16 & 17 (double spread)
*Osaragi jumps into the elevator shaft and crashes through the top of the elevator* Shin: !!? Shin: What the- This woman is... Mafuyu: ORDER!!
Pg.18
*Mafuyu attacks Osaragi with the blade of his shoe but Osaragi dodges the attack easily*
Pg.19
Shin: What's happening?! Mafuyu: If you're scared, then scram!! Shin: Hunh?! Osaragi: Shishiba-san will scold me again for breaking so much... Editor's note: An unruly exhibition! ORDER: Osaragi enters the battle!
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emeraldwitches · 2 years
Text
"is it what you wanted?"
steve kneels down to be eye level with his daughter. he lost track of billy when nancy showed up, but assumes he's in the barn out back.
penny hugs him, hanging off his neck until he picks her up.
it's her birthday, so he's willing to carry her around even if she's kicking him in the knee because she's really too tall for this.
he sits her down on the kitchen counter so he can watch out the window, trying to figure out if billy is in fact in the barn. he's also not sure where nancy's new boyfriend wandered off to, but he wasn't expecting to find him in the barn with billy and eddie.
he and nancy had invited as many of their own friends as possible in an effort to have an effective buffer between them since they always promised they wouldn't put the kids through the "two of everything" thing.
as steve really starts to look around, he realizes that most of the men are outside, actually. eddie, gareth, jonathan, jonathan's friend argyle, and even billy are all congregated in the barn. steve also can't find robin.
he takes that back as she passes by the window of the barn. robin has also abandoned him.
outside, billy is having a very serious conversation with jonathan. steve briefly thinks they might go to blows, but then billy laughs and passes a joint to jonathan. and are they really out there getting stoned at a six year old's birthday party?
as it gets later, most of them wander back into the house to say goodbye before leaving. nancy stops him to ask if he's seen jonathan.
steve says he hasn't because he knows she'll throw the mother of all fits if he tells her their boyfriends are outside getting blitzed together. jonathan's a pretty nice guy, and it's been a good day, steve isn't eager to end it with a fight.
"well, i'm leaving them here," nancy says matter of factly. "he knows i have to work tomorrow. he's probably off with argyle. they can call a taxi."
steve shrugs as if this is all irrelevant to him; and it mostly is. eddie and argyle are the ones who brought the weed. doesn't have anything to do with him or billy. nancy would probably find a way to make it his fault though. she's great at twisting facts, it's what makes her an ace reporter and a pretty shitty wife.
"it's fine. i'll get rob to drop them off or something."
nancy scoffs. she hates when he calls robin "rob" for some reason. one of many things that are no longer his problem since the divorce.
"mom took the kids home with her," nancy tells him. "since it's my week, but i have to work."
"they could have stayed here if you didn't have time for your children, nancy."
billy only caught the end of the conversation on his way to the fridge; but he couldn't stop himself from making a snotty comment. nancy is the best at getting under his skin and always has been.
steve gives billy a look that says "stop" but in the next moment he's shrugging at nancy as if to say, "he's not wrong."
nancy huffs and shoulders her purse. "have a nice night. send my boyfriend home when he shows up." and she leaves as if nothing happened.
"didn't tell her we were out back?" billy asks, raising an eyebrow.
"nah. robbie's still here, she'll take him home. no point in her highness getting worked up about everyone escaping her bullshit. you know she'd be so offended he wasn't spending time with his new daughter or whatever."
"he spends plenty of time with the kids," billy says, closing the door of the fridge. steve gives him a look so he continues. "apparently they're with him 90% of the time."
"poor bastard. i guess i wasn't the problem after all." steve laughs like it's painful.
"how could you be anyone's problem, harrington?" billy asks. as far as he's concerned steve has never done wrong in his life; and that includes the time in high school that steve sucker punched him in some randos yard. (billy later learns that rando was jonathan and they kinda trashed his mom's house. billy offers to repaint the entire house and joyce eventually accepts but she makes it clear that she's not holding a grudge, he just clearly felt bad.)
"i'm literally your problem, hargrove." steve smiles back.
"yeah, okay, fine." billy agrees because steve is the farthest thing from a problem for him. "you coming out now that queen bitch is gone?"
"be right there," steve promises before taking the stairs two at a time to change out of the ridiculous tie nancy had insisted he wear.
when he gets outside, he's immediately passed a beer. then the freshly packed bong. then a joint that eddie rolled just for him, so he could catch up to the rest of them. robin is sprawled across a 1970s garage sale special couch facing the door. billy is sitting sideways in an old armchair. eddie and jonathan are both sitting cross legged on the loveseat opposite billy's chair. steve taps robin's ankle, and once she's lifted her legs he takes a seat at the opposite end of the couch. she puts her legs back down across his lap because she's far too inebriated to care about personal space.
"hey, jonathan. how often is nancy home?" steve asks, puffing away at his joint as the bong continues to make its rounds.
jonathan shrugs. "eh, twice a week? why?"
steve would be seeing red if he weren't well on his way to stoned off his ass. "she sent the girls with her mom tonight, just curious."
"yeah she's kinda ass at being a parent," jonathan agrees.
"i keep telling you to dump her ass," argyle says from the spinning chair at the desk. steve hadn't even seen him in the back corner rolling a blunt on the desk.
"meh," is the best defense jonathan has to that. he's either too stoned to argue or doesn't care anymore.
"so look i know princess won't go because it'll fuck up her perm," billy begins, addressing the room at large. "but penny asked me to teach her to surf; and there's nowhere to surf in indiana, so i was thinking... what if we go visit my mom?"
steve squints at billy then raises his eyebrows. "your mom?"
billy rolls his eyes. "yeah, steve. my mom."
"when did you guys get back in contact?" steve asks, too far gone to discern appropriate conversation topics. it doesn't really matter because robin is nodding in and out, and jonathan and eddie are distracted with argyle.
"about four years ago?" billy tries to calculate it in his head but he can't really remember.
"oh you just haven't mentioned her," steve says.
"haven't had a reason," billy shrugs. "but now i do. what do you think?"
"dad did say i could borrow the camper whenever. so why not? i'll call him in the morning."
"you guys are invited, too," billy says a little louder. "can't have too many eyes on the kids, y'know?"
eddie immediately declines, saying he won't be able to get off work. jonathan also declines, knowing nancy would hate it. argyle declines not long after jonathan, mostly out of politeness because they're barely jonathan's friends and certainly not his. not yet, at least.
robin, when shaken from her stupor, agrees.
steve cracks a joke about having four kids to keep up with. robin brings her heel down hard on his thigh before relaxing back into the couch.
"make that five kids," billy mutters to himself as steve and robin continue to bicker.
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blue-kyber · 11 months
Text
Chapter 25 edited.
Here's a part of it.
The introduction of the bad guy with powers, Vitiate Scarin.
(this is Vitiate Scarin, btw. - his face and collar was made a couple of years ago in artbreeder, and then the mask and cowl added, and the eyes repainted in photoshop to be purple. The mask is a mass produced plastic one that can be bought on etsy, and the hood is from a generic picture of a hoodie I recolored and darkened the crap out of and added texture to. I never said I was good. The weapon he uses is called an arclight. It has no power pack. The user IS the power source. I has only an ena crystal in the grip at the center with some tech inside it to focus and amplify their energy into a ring -an arc. Hence the name.)
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A harsh fear scraped its abrasive nails through Yune's insides from head to toe in an unrelenting aggression.
He’d faced the Regents countless times before. He should not be feeling as though a wire of cold terror coiled around his spine, and one tug would sever it.
Curious as to the reason why, he fought that fear to peek out the viewport once more.
That reason strode in tailing the elite soldiers. 
Yune’s thoughts shattered. 
The athletic man clad in black and red carried no weapons. He wore a cowl pulled over his head, a matte black mask hiding the lower half of his face, leaving his bright blue eyes stained with purple visible to pierce through anyone who dared to look at him. His clothing, deep as the night sky, cracked with hints of red as though bleeding beneath. Forearm protectors clamped above his gloved hands, and shin protectors over his knee high boots were the only signs of armor.
A short ebony metal bar like a handle with a grip at its center pulled Yune’s eyes to lock onto it. The handle clipped horizontally along the right side of his belt to make it easy to grab - like how Yune kept his all-purpose tool. It didn’t look sharp, or long enough to be used as a blunt weapon. When held, it looked to extend a mere inch or two from either side of a closed fist. 
Yet despite its non-threatening appearance, it threatened Yune. The glint of light off its scratched and marred surface sent his pulse racing with anxiety. He didn’t have a clue as to what it could be - only something to avoid. 
The stranger carried the air of a being in full control of his abilities, enough to make anyone believe he didn’t need weapons. He moved with the strong, unyielding confidence of an iceberg. The tar-like iniquitous aura oozing out of him mirrored that apathetic fridgidness.
Despite being a couple of inches shorter than the commander, his presence darkened the room, dominated every living thing in it, and made him a dangerous force larger than life. 
This was no ordinary man. 
This was a demon of suffering carved from the deepest depths of the Void. 
Yune quickly ducked down before they could spot him. 
He automatically scooted under the console and pulled his knees up. 
His breathing increased to hyperventilation as his pulse pounded hard, painful, and fast in his chest. A pressure quickly formed behind his heart - one he’d felt many times before - but instead of beginning as a subtle feeling that grew, it shot straight to the edge of threatening to explode. A cold sweat beaded his brow, numbing his thoughts. A rapid flood of adrenaline injected him with the powerful urge to run. Panic clawed through each breath. 
Where the hell did this random trauma reaction come from?
He felt a chill in his soul like it knew - he knew - that this man meant bad news. He didn’t know why, he just did. He knew if he stayed in this location, he would die. And his death would not be quick or painless.
A dissonant sense from the constant presence with him agreed.
They shared an instinctive, primal fear of this stranger. 
Their conversation occurred in a quick succession of impressions, thoughts, and emotions between them. 
Who the tak is that? he managed to get a clear thought through the static in his mind.
The presence answered, ��Stay down. Hide. You have to hide, now. Don’t let him see you.’ 
Yeah, no kidding.
He wiped the sweat away from his brow, noticing his hands trembling, and clenched them. What is wrong with me? Why did he feel like this? Why did he react as though he were in mortal danger? It made no sense. He’d never met that being before in his life. He had zero reasons for this to whiplash him back to being a kid enslaved on the dark side of the wall, to every instance he was yelled at, punished, locked away - this man revived the abrasive emotions of every traumatic experience he could remember. 
It froze him in place.
Rarely had anything terrified him so much that it paralyzed him while his body simultaneously screamed at him to run.
----
Tag list: @muddshadow @cedar-west @athenixrose @penspiration-writing @runningoutofbooks @tobiornottobithatisthequestion @roll-top-writing @subject-2-change @dreaming-in-seams @mismatchingart @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @thewriteflame @writingventriloquist @ren-c-leyn @asher-orion-writes @aninkwellofnectar @winterandwords @raevenlywrites @nanashi23 @athenaannarose @the-tired-writer @space-cadead@cljordan-imperium @wildswrites @dogmomwrites @wip-nook
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@billyhargrovens oh harringrove AU where billy is a selkie and neil has his skin and steve finds out
This got away from me. I was going to just ramble in the tags, but it turned into a full fic and I wanted to give it its own post. I didn’t write this as expressly romantic, and I’m not really a Harringrove shipper, I just really loved the concept. Take this however you want.
Word count: 2107
TW/CW: implied/referenced abuse in regard to both Billy and his mom, some swearing
“All right, Max, don’t forget that Mike’s hosting game night tomorrow,” Steve called through the Beemer’s open window as Max reached the front door.
“Wait, hold on, I have a comic to give back to Dustin.” She darted inside.
Steve sighed and turned off the car. He didn’t know how long it would take Max to find said comic, and he didn’t want to wait in the car wasting gas.
He hadn’t seen the inside of the Hargrove-Mayfield house before. Steve knew he was rich by most standards, but he couldn’t help but see just how beat up everything was. The furniture was dinged up, the walls needed a repaint, and the trim was separating from the wall. And those were just some of the surface things. He walked down the hall to wait outside Max’s door until she was done. That should have been the end of it.
But he’d gotten bored and glanced across the hall. Max’s parents’ bedroom, he guessed. But he could see a tuft of golden hair behind the side of the bed and just as it always did, curiosity got the better of Steve Harrington.
He tiptoed into the room, and sure enough, the gold hair belonged to Billy, who was holding something that looked kind of like a blanket. He hadn’t wrapped it around himself, he was just holding it with a near-reverence. He didn’t notice Steve’s approach until a floorboard creaked, then his head snapped toward the intruder, eyes wide with something that Steve thought might be fear. Once he recognized Steve, his expression shifted to rage. He dropped the blanket— but it wasn’t a blanket, it looked more like an animal pelt. Steve had never taken Billy for a hunting man, and why would one of his trophies be in someone else’s room?
All those thoughts raced through Steve’s head that he didn’t notice Billy had moved until Steve’s back met the wall. The pain brought him back to the present, and Billy’s eyes were blazing, his hands clenched around Steve’s shirt collar.
“Get. Out,” Billy spat through clenched teeth. His voice was filled with anger, but Steve could have sworn he saw a tear glimmer in the other boy’s eye.
He pushed Billy off of him and stormed out into the hall to wait for Max with her stupid comic book. The back of his head throbbed dully.
After a few minutes, Billy exited the room and shut the door behind him, shooting a venomous glare at Steve as he passed him. Max shouted in triumph and emerged from her room holding Dustin’s comic, which was surprisingly but fortunately not torn.
“Here you go,” she said as she handed it to him. “You might wanna go before Billy sees you.”
Steve laughed quietly. “A little late for that.”
“Do I need to get the bat?” Max asked, fists clenching as she glared toward a door he assumed was Billy’s.
“No, don’t bother, it wasn’t a big deal.” Steve wasn’t sure why he was defending Billy, but for some reason he didn’t want Max to go after the guy again, bat swinging. Maybe it was that moment of fear he’d seen when Billy realized he was there.
Steve drove back to his house with his mind whirling.
———
When game night arrived, Steve was as usual playing chauffeur to Dustin. Normally, he would have just dropped the kid off and killed time until he had to take him home, but this time he had a question to ask the rest of the kids.
The kids were all crowded around the table. Will had on a wizard costume that Steve was pretty sure Joyce handmade, and El was inspecting one of the dice. The group sent up a cheer when they saw that Dustin had arrived.
Steve tapped Will on the shoulder and, to avoid being heard by the rest of the group, he quietly asked, “Can I talk to you in private for a second?”
Will nodded and the two retreated to the furthest corner of the basement.
“What do you know about magical creatures with animal skins?” Steve asked. “Don’t ask me why, it’s just a hunch.”
“Okay.” The Byers boy nodded and started listing things off on his fingers. “Well, you have some versions of werewolves and other were-species, you have some people who were cursed, you have selkies—”
“Wait, what’s a selkie?” Steve interrupted.
“Selkies are people who can turn into seals. Sometimes they’re a type of mermaid, but that’s,” Will made a vague gesture, “pretty rare. They usually stay in seaside areas, but there are a lot of stories about people forcing selkies, typically female ones, to live on land by hiding their skins.”
“What if the selkie found the skin?” Steve asked.
“Usually once they find their skin, they go back to the sea and are never heard from again. I’ve read a few stories where the person who stole the coat has to voluntarily return the coat to the selkie, but that’s pretty rare.” Will looked at Steve with consideration. “Why the sudden interest?”
Steve leaned in close to Will and lowered his voice. “Would you think I was crazy if I told you I thought I’d found a selkie in Hawkins?”
Will shook his head. “I’ve seen way too much to think anyone’s crazy in this town,” he said with a sad smile.
“And how would I, hypothetically, know if someone was a selkie?”
“Well,” the smaller boy thought for a few seconds before replying. “The easiest way would be to find their pelt, but that’s tricky. They often smell like the ocean and they’re usually really great swimmers. In some legends their hair never dries or they have webbed fingers.”
“Thanks, kid. You’ve been a real help.” With that, Steve grabbed his jacket and exited the basement.
———
It made so much sense. California being a coastal state, the way Billy would smell like salt when he got up close during basketball practice, how easily he took to the water at the Hawkins high pool and how he had applied for a lifeguard position.
Steve drove back to the house on Cherry. Thankfully the driveway was empty, but Steve still opted to climb in through Max’s window rather than break and enter. He made his way to the master bedroom and dug around under the bed until he found a box that looked right. It was like an old chest, with metal bindings and a few barnacles encrusted on one of the corners. Not super out of place for a former Californian, but still suspicious enough.
The coat looked like it would have been big enough for Billy to wrap it around himself with ease, and Steve’s fingers buzzed where he touched the pelt. There was something powerful about it, and Steve felt like he could almost hear crashing waves and the crying of gulls, sounds he had only heard once when his parents had taken him to the beach, before they were too busy for their son.
It crossed Steve’s mind to wrap the pelt around himself, but he immediately rejected the thought. The fact that he was holding it felt like enough of an invasion of privacy as it was. This pelt seemed almost sacred.
He hadn’t heard a car pull up, or the front door unlock, or the steps that came down the hall.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Billy’s voice brimmed with anger.
Steve turned to face him, a wide and probably dumb-looking grin on his face. “You’re a selkie!”
The anger on Billy’s face faltered, replaced by a look of shock and, there it was again, fear. He stalked forward and it seemed like he was about to snatch the pelt out of Steve’s hands, but instead his hand just hovered above it for a moment, then ran lightly over it. His hand stayed there for a few seconds, then Billy dropped it and all traces of anger vanished from his face. He looked wrung out, and the gesture had seemed almost like a goodbye.
“Fine.” His voice was quieter than Steve had ever heard it, and it cracked on that single word. “You’ve got me.”
Billy sat down on the bed with his head hung low. “What do you want, Harrington? Sunken treasure? Good sailing weather? We’re pretty damn landlocked, last time I checked.” He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes, and his tense body gave off the impression of a tightly coiled spring.
“What are you doing here in Hawkins?”
Billy stared at him in confusion. “Out of all the questions you could ask, you pick that one?”
“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged. “Like you said, you’re pretty landlocked, and I thought selkies stayed near the coast. Why haven’t you left?”
Billy laughed softly, but it was tinged with sadness. “That’s a long story, Harrington.”
Steve settled back onto the bed. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t wanna, but I’ve got time.”
Billy took a long, deep breath and nodded.
———
“My mom was a selkie too,” Billy began. “I don’t know what she ever saw in Neil, but she left the sea, married him, and had me.”
His expression turned sad. “I think it was shortly after I was born that the bastard stole her pelt. She used to go swimming with me, but I don’t think I ever saw her in her seal form more than ten times in my life.
“I was about ten years old when she decided she’d put up with enough of his shit.” he grimaced. “The older I got, the more bruises it seemed like she had. She threw a plate at him one night. She was black and blue the next morning, and she came to my room before the sun was up. I was barely awake at the time, and she left me this.” He held up the silver necklace that Steve had seen him always wear. “She took her pelt and she was gone.”
Steve shifted awkwardly where he was seated. If he was dealing with one of the kids, he would have pulled them in for a hug, but he didn’t think that would go over super well with Billy.
“After that, Neil took my pelt and hid it. I didn’t know where it had gone until a little before we moved to this shithole. I found my pelt and I think Neil expected me to just fuck off into the ocean and never come back, but I couldn’t just leave Max here. But anyway, he figured out that I’d found my pelt and a week later we were packed and moving here. And I expect you know the rest.”
———
Billy sat back, his eyes glistening with tears as he stared at the pelt that lay between them. “There, Harrington. Now you know my big secret, what are you gonna do with it?”
“I could keep it safe for you,” Steve said so quietly that Billy barely heard it.
“What?”
Words began to spill out of Steve’s mouth. “Just hear me out, okay? If you don’t want your old man to get his hands on it, I could keep it at my house. No one’s ever home except for me, so it’d be totally safe, and I wouldn’t lock it away or anything. And if you ever decide you want it back, or to just check on it, I’d be fine with that.”
A few tears slid down Billy’s face, but he was wearing probably the first genuine smile Steve had ever seen from him.
“All right, Harrington, I’m gonna trust you with this.” His voice was ragged as he folded up the pelt and stroked it for a moment. “Keep it safe for me, all right?”
Steve nodded as he accepted the pelt when Billy handed it to him. He had reached the front door when he turned around and said, “you know, I have a pool in my yard. It hasn’t been used in a while, but it’s pretty private so if you ever decide you wanna go for a swim, just drop on by.”
Billy nodded and smiled, and Steve could have sworn he heard a quiet “thanks” before the door closed between them.
———
When Steve made it home, he put the pelt into the chest of drawers in his room. Safe, but not locked away, just like he had promised.
As he drifted off to sleep that night, he dreamt of Billy, swimming and diving with a smile as bright as the light reflecting off the water. Further out in the ocean, a grey seal watched over him.
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moonchildlov · 1 year
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(Been obsessed with everything I can’t have by robin thicke so this is what I came up with lol on the spot let me know if i should make a pt.2 )
(If you have seen step up 2 the one scene where they are dancing at the party this is how I imagine the vibe lol)
Unexpected night
Bucky x Reader
Mentions: fluff (just fluff I think this is a short
POV😂)
Bucky liked being around Sam’s home especially after the flagsmasher situation. He liked the town he lived in it was quiet yet full of laughter and love. Different then the city life he endures everyday. After a while though, he felt disconnected some with the world again. Missions were slowing down he didn’t like it surprisingly cause he had really nothing to occupy his time or his thoughts. He ended up back around Sam’s enjoying being a nightmare he was about to become when he throws random deathglares at his best friend for fun of course.
“Oh you are going tonight it’s everyone there you need to get out more often,” Sam told him while repainting the boat a little more. Bucky groaned at the thought of an outing he actually enjoyed company at times but he felt off or empty lately probably because he thought he would be with someone his wishful thinking made the idea out of wack. Who would want to be with a killer or someone with a big clunky metal arm.
——————
Time carried on and before you knew it Sarah was helping you find something nice to wear and you helped her out with cooking getting everything set. You worked with her a lot met through college you guys did everything together inseparable. Especially during the blip, she was so grateful when you helped with the boys seeing that you understood the single parent life having been through a similar situation as kid you were happy to help. You liked to get out of apartment but then again something about late nights, partying, all that just wasn’t for you like that. It was numbing being in a room full of people and feel nothing faking a smile. Sarah and Sam thought it was time maybe that you and Bucky should meet, and no one would have ever thought this would be the way.
The music played, laughs and small talk surrounded the backyard. Bucky found himself next to Sam drinking a beer saying a few words just watching the scene. They even went as far as making a sturdy platform with outdoor lights surrounding it so people could dance. Bucky recalled the times before war where he couldn’t stay away from dancing a different girl every night. Damn how he lost his touched. He used to be so smooth his confidence…he could never get that back or so he thought.
You were just around sharing small talk with close friends of Sarah and Sam. It was nice though you felt the numbing pain you did your best to ignore it. The songs eventually changed and Sarah refused to be the only one dancing. You couldn’t help it either as much as you try to find your out of it you couldn’t resist it.
“Oh, oh-oh, I want everything
Ooh, everything, everything
I want a fresh girl
I wanna drink my drink
I wanna get high
I can't have everything,”
That’s what did you in before your hips started to move to the beat and you were lost in it. Other joined in some just gathered around to see. Sam found his way to floor “come on cyborg live a little,” he winked grabbing someone he had been seeing for a while secretly Sam wasn’t gonna miss his chance to dance show off a little of course. Bucky rolled his eyes taking a sip of his drink till there you were. Twirling. Skin glistening in the light, your (desired clothing choice) . He was lost in a trance. Some other guy found his way to you and that’s when something in him gave in.
“I want everything I can't have
When the brandy hits my throat, I go
Da-da-da-da-da da-da-da da-da
When I see the girls, those girls, they make me go
Da-da-da-da-da da-da-da da-da
When I get a taste, a taste it makes me go
Da-da-da-da-da da-da-da da-da
And when that brandy hits my throat, I go
Da-da-da-da-da da-da-da da-da,”
You spin out into someone else’s arms and they grab you firmly one around your waist and the other holding your hand you open your eyes meeting the pair of most beautiful light blue eyes you had seen “Nice moves doll…wrong partner…” he winks you could help but smile a little. “Keep up.” You say don’t where this burst of confidence came in from before you both practically stole the floor.
“When did he learn how to do that…” Sam looks puzzled never had he thought Bucky would even step foot on the platform actually even dance in general goddamn miracle or he was dreaming it himself. Sarah just laughed it off patting his back watching you show a side of yourself she hadn’t seen a long time.
Bucky and you locked eyes and it was like you two had did a secret no one else knew. Bodies pressed together your scent lingering his cologne damn…you never thought you could feel like this again. Bucky for sure found out he still had a lot of energy and his muscle memory kicked in like nothing. It was like you unlocked this buried deep part inside of him and he could release it. People were in all the way you both glided across the floor, leg lift wrapping around one around his waist and lifting your other one into the air while he held you for support before spinning you out
“Oh-I want; I-I-I-I-I-I-want everything
Everything, everything, everything
I want everything
That I can't have.”
You ended up back into his arms back to his chest arm around his neck breathing heavily the heat rising between you. It was intimate, and you both felt this wasn’t gonna be a one time deal.
“I’m Bucky…”
“I’m y/n,”
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