#Like several days longer than what was originally planned.
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Endiness made a beautiful long post with all his quotes on that topic that I think is very informative and worth looking at, so here’s a link to that. And with that already discussed, I thought I’d make a thread of all his changes that we are aware of, because when you look into them, you find that none of his “book accurate” changes are actually book accurate.
His decision to make Geralt grunt and cut his lines.
HC: "All the grunts, I either added or I didn't say anything and just grunted instead. It was often up to the other actors to go, 'I think he's not gonna say anything now.'"
JB: "Henry likes to cut his lines, 'cause he's lazy. No, he literally just likes to cut them. He likes to do more up here [frames his face with his hands] and just with face and hmms and grunts. There's a lot of hmms, and so I often have to take a lot of his lines and turn it into a lot of my stuff so that the plot happens."
So, as everyone who has read the books knows that Geralt is and always has been a yapper. Gerakt often talks or thinks in monologues, and definitely not in short grunts.
Of course when the audience started making fun of Geralt for not being able to speak in full sentences Henry promptly went back on admitting the blame and instead said that the big bad writers were the ones who didn't give him lines, and now it was his life’s mission to fight for a book accurate Geralt who speaks.
Roach’s death scene
After S2 came out, Lauren received a lot of backlash for Roach’s death scene, with multiple sources citing that she wanted the moment to be more “comedic” before the brave Henry Cavill stepped in and refused to participate in such horrible anti source material activities.
LH: "Henry was so unhappy with the line. Finally I said, 'You know what, you come up with something. I trust you, you know this material so well, you know the book so well, you don't even have to pitch it to me.' And he came back the next day with a beautiful speech that's at the end of 'Sword of Destiny' when Geralt is facing death.”
This is the line he ended up using:
“Enjoy your last walk across the meadow and through the mist. Be not afraid of her for she is your friend."
This was Lauren’s response AND the original line.
LH: “Here's what was scripted, in homage of the fact that a previous Roach had existed, and another one will exist soon. It's hardly a joke. Henry wanted a longer, more emotional moment, which I was more than happy to give him. Don't create drama where none exists.”
So in S2 Geralt ends up quoting a part of his monologue from ‘Sword of Destiny’ when he’s at his lowest after thinking that Yennefer had died at the battle of Sodden Hill, and he has nothing left to live for. Which to me doesn't work that well with Roach at all. That line was a response to Geralt thinking he's lost the love of his life, not his horse. In my opinion, the original line Lauren penned out is more heartfelt and actually more emotional and more book accurate as well.
The absolute removal of any Triss and Geralt “romance”
This one we don’t have that much information on in comparison to others. But there were multiple reports that at the beginning of S2 Triss and Geralt were supposed to have some kind of a romantic scene with each other which then was cut during production, and it was largely speculated that it was due to Henry Cavill.
“Several months ago we reported on a sex scene happening between Geralt and Triss, sometime in the first half of Season 2. That didn’t happen, as we all saw, but here’s what we know about the original plan for that:
Geralt and Triss are in a room together, they seem friendly at first. They are playing some kind of weird game. Whoever wins a round, gets to ask a question. We’re not privy to the exact flow of the conversation, but it eventually leads to both of them ending up in bed.
We can only guess why this was cut, but perhaps it was thanks to Henry Cavill.”
Now, irrelevantly on your feelings on book Triss and Geralt you have to admit that that short-lived “romance” is indeed a part of the books and therefor book accurate. So the removal of it would go against Mr I’m fighting to make this show as much book accurate as possible.
The removal of the Yen and Geralt sex scene in S2
"We just wanted to be very careful that it was true and real, and it didn't turn into something that we, as actors, didn't believe it should be," Cavill stated. When Yennefer and Geralt unite, they embrace, but it doesn't go further than that. He continued: "We wanted it to be emotional rather than sexual. It was really, really important, and we had to lean away from what was originally on the page." Initially, Geralt and Yennefer were written to have a more passionate night.
Henry Cavill and Anya Chalotra went to "The Witcher" producers and explained why they thought a steamy evening was not the way to go. "These are people who believe one thing about the fate of another and then find out something else is true," Cavill said about Geralt believing Yennefer was dead. "That's not how they behave," the actor added. "How they behave is they just want to be with the person and emotionally recognize their existence again in that shared space.”
This one is a bit tricky because I am willing to get behind an actor who doesn't want to do a sex scene out of comfort reasons or whatnot, but Henry saying that "That's not how [Yennefer and Geralt] behave”, is quite absurd in my opinion. Because that is very much how Geralt and Yennefer behave, especially in the short stories and ToC. They are inherently a very sexual couple who come crashing in and out of each other’s lives while having very passionate sex. But I can understand wanting this scene to be more “emotional” (as if sex isn't emotional), so this one I am willing to give him a bit more leeway on. (But then again looking at the blinds saying that he refused any sex scenes because oh his “ideals” and was allegedly really nasty to Anya about it, well..)
Geralt being the perfect father figure to Ciri with no flaws and no struggles (which inevitably snowballed into the Yen Betrayal Arc)
This one I don’t see talked that much at all, and to me this one is his most detrimental one.
@LHissrich: “In interviews, Henry explains how he felt strongly that Geralt NOT be bumbling, nor a struggling father figure. In fact, a lot of S2 is about how Geralt does come from a loving (albeit unconventional) family. Henry was passionate about this shift, and we discussed it a lot, and ultimately thought it was wonderful for his character development. But it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance.”
So I don’t know about you, but I love when characters have flaws and naturally progress be it for good or bad, some would say that that's what story telling is about, well that someone wouldn't be Henry Cavil. Geralt being a struggling father figure at first, someone who makes mistakes and learns from them and tries is very much a prominent theme in Blood of Elves and is actually very real, people make mistakes! Especially in huge shifts such as “becoming a father overnight’ but we didn't get that because Henry refused to play it that way. What we got is Geralt who already basically knows exactly how to parent, he always knows what to say, what pep talk to give and also doesn't hold any resentment and any negative feelings towards Vesemir at all. It's all one dimensional happy family here! Which goes against not only the books but what he preached about fighting tooth and nail to make the “forgotten” male characters three-dimensional as well because the horrible feminist Lauren only thinks about female characters.
Lauren then goes on saying that “it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance” So, it is fair to speculate that Henry’s refusal to showcase Geralt having any flaws at all and act book accurate snowballed into The Controversial Yennefer Betrayal Arc.
These are the ones that I can remember off the top off my head, so there might be more, there’s probably more that we aren’t even aware of. I think putting them all together showcase a very interesting picture. One of Henry Cavill never actually understanding who Geralt fundamentally is as a character, and of him not being a team player at all. I just hope that more and more people are aware of the insane PR his team did for him when it came to this show, and that more people are able to see through it.
#anti henry cavill#the witcher#long post#i do believe that i have an interesting vintage point because ive been in this fandom since the show premiered so some people might not be#even aware of these things when ive lived them and have an archive of them in my head lmaoo#i don't like the formatting of asks when you reblog them so im making this a separate text post
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With all the Deadloop and Red Cross nutshells, my brain has been stuck on how their reunion might go! Did either of them go back to the museum they were in to look for the other? Did they ever find out that they are both back with their faction? Maybe there’s something of history repeating itself, and Deadloop gets shot down, and Red Cross finds and saves him? (Also, what would Agent Fowler say to having a ‘con in the family?)
Thank you for feeding the Red Cross and Deadloop brain rot I have with all the nutshells!
I've had many requests for these two reuniting, so I've combined them all into one.
Hope you enjoy!
Red Cross and Deadloop reuniting
TFP
Deadloop had been enjoying his break when he was notified by Starscream to guard a hostage.
He hated having to deal with hostages.
It brought back memories of the human war.
Memories of the Fowlers.
Memories of her…
He is confused when he sees a man being suspended in the air by a couple of large chains.
It seemed too extreme, even for Starscream.
Deadloop walking over to the human.
“So, you’re the little human that’s been giving Screamer trouble.”--Deadloop
The human huffs.
“If you want the information, I don’t have it.”--Fowler
“Relax, I’m not going to shove my Granny up your behind.”--Deadloop
Fowler looks at him strangely.
“What’s your name?”--Deadloop
He glares at the Con before noticing key details in his alt mode.
“What’s with your alt mode? Cons getting a budget cut from the high-tech aircrafts?”--Fowler
Deadloop scoffs.
“I’ll have you know sir, that this alt mode was from the original model back in the day.”--Deadloop
This catches the man’s attention.
“I’ll tell you my name if you come closer to the light.”--Fowler
Deadloop humors him and walks closer while also noticing some familiar looking features on the human’s face.
The way his eyes concentrated...
The little deeps in the cheek…
Almost like…
“Your last name wouldn’t happen to be Fowler?”--Deadloop
The human’s eyes widen by a fraction of a second.
Good enough for him as takes the chains off and pops open one of his subspaces.
“Hop in.”--Deadloop
Deadloop knew that his actions would be counted as treason, but he was not going to let this Fowler get hurt on his watch, never again.
Fowler tried questioning what the Con was doing, but he soon saw that he was tkainghim outside to the flight deck.
Was this Con actually helping him escape?
They made it to the flight deck before Starscream caught wind of Deadloop’s plans.
Deadloop transformed into his baron form and took off as Starscream and some of the seekers came out.
So, it was a dog fight that they wanted? It was a dog fight that they were going to get.
It was a long fight in the air, but Deadloop was much more experienced in this art of war than these newbies.
Starscream managed to clip one of his wings good and was spiraling down with Fowler.
Luckily Fowler had called the base and had a groundbrigde sent right underneath them.
As Deadloop transformed and shielded Fowler from the impact
Deadloop wasn’t surprised to see that there were several blasters pointed at him and ordering the human to be released.
He gently placed Fowler down.
Optimus offers Deadloop his servo.
After a moment he grabs it and lets the Prime help him up.
“Listen, I don’t want any trouble. I’m no longer allowed a Con and I don’t want anything to do with this war.”--Deadloop
“And how are we supposed to trust you?”--Wheeljack
“He did save Fowler.”--Jack
“It could be a trap.”--Arcee
Raf looks at him closely.
“You wouldn’t happen to turn into a Red Barron would you?”--Raf
“Finally! A human of culture! I do in fact turn into—”Deadloop
Deadloop looks at a couple of hand grenades in a box unorganized.
“Why are all your eggs so messy?”--Deadloop
“Has anyone seen my eggs? I swear I put them—”—Red Cross
Red Cross stop in her tracks and stares wide optic at the red mech in front of her.
Deadloop just freezes in place.
This couldn’t be…
She was…
“DEADLOOP!”—Red Cross
Red Cross slams into his frame wrapping her arms around him in a fierce hug.
The red mech snaps out of his trace and hugs her back just as hard.
The medic spots some sparking near his wings and pulls back.
“Primus your hurt! Come, sit I’ll go get my kits!”—Red Cross
Deadloop gets carried bridal style by Red Cross while she mumbles about the supplies she needs.
“…what just happened?”--Fowler
Everyone is confused.
Red Cross and Deadloop tell their story to the others and their relation to the Fowler’s.
Agent Fowler does not know how to feel about this sudden news. He needs a moment to process this.
Even when she’s done, Deadloop takes Red Cross’s servo in his and doesn’t let go.
She doesn’t make any motion to get out of his grip either.
It takes one question from Red Cross and now Deadloop is now an Autobot.
This was going to be some load of paperwork when Fowler returned to his office…
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Preston, Deacon, X6, Danse, and Hancock: (All seated on little chairs around a table with tea party set up)
Jasmine: (Puts a handmade flower crown on X6’s head) “Hehehe…”
X6: (Remains unmoving and unbothered while he sips his tea)
Deacon: (Wearing clip on earrings and fairy wings with a tutu) “Looking good there pal, the colors really bring out your smile.”
X6: (Ignores him while turning on the radio)
Jasmine: (Eagerly dashed over to the counter to prep the treats)
Piper: (Leans in the doorway with a questioning look at the men) “Well, what’s going on in here?”
Preston: (Has a tiara over his hat) “Tea party, care to join us? The more the merrier.”
Jasmine: (Perks up with shining eyes and points to an empty seat next to Danse)
Piper: (Sits down and looks around) “So… is this some sort of dare? Or did someone pay you guys-?”
Danse: (Wearing a bunch of metallic beaded necklaces and pink sunglasses) “Shhhh.” (Puts a finger to his lip then gesture to the girl who’s happily skipping around)
Piper: (Raises her eyebrows) “Ahhh, I see.”
Deacon: (Offering a pot of tea to a teddy bear) “Care for some more tea, Miss Winifred?”
Jasmine: (Serving fresh brownies to her guests on pink plastic plates)
Hancock: (Has little bows pinned on his hat and one too many giant gemstone rings on his fingers) “Now this is what I call a real treat, thanks little sister.” (Generously puts a brownie on Miss Winifreds plate)
Preston: (Stirring his tea) “Pass the sugar, please.”
X6: (Wordlessly hands him the jar while munching on a brownie)
Piper: (Whispering to the teen) “You sure get away with a lot of stuff, don’t you kiddo?”
Jasmine: (Grins mischievously)
(Don’t tell me you wouldn’t join this little party. The brownies are to die for)
#This was all part of a plot to keep Jasmine distracted from the fact that Nick was gone for longer than he promised.#Like several days longer than what was originally planned.#Jas was moments away from storming across the Commonwealth while burning everything in her path.#Or just sobbing out of fear.#So the boys started gathering whatever they could find that might cheer her up.#They stumbled upon her prewar tea party set and just nodded to each other in affirmation.#X6 helped Jasmine baked brownies in the kitchen while everyone else tried to figure out how to set things up.#Cause last time Deacon Danse and Hancock were in the kitchen they set it on fire.#Deacon was the one to hand out the accessories as a mandatory “uniform” for their party.#X6 refused to wear anything until Jasmine put the flower crown on his head.#He refused to acknowledge it but also didn’t try to remove it.#Jazzy made it herself and gifted it to him. Therefore it’s extra special to him.#Danse took some coaxing to wear the sunglasses and necklaces.#Once he saw everyone was jumping in on the accessories and how happy it made Jasmine he caved.#They are all such good big brothers for doing this with Jas.#It reminds me of that one episode of The Office where the cast gets worried and stressed about losing their jobs.#So Michael starts a silly murder mystery game to keep everyone distracted from the bigger issue.#Yeah. That but with these guys and their little sister#You just gotta do some harmless silly/stupid things sometimes for the benefit of having fun#fallout#fo4#fallout 4#fallout companions#fallout oc#fallout original character#fo4 danse#paladin danse#danse#john hancock#piper wright
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What We Learned from Flying a Helicopter on Mars
The Ingenuity Mars Helicopter made history – not only as the first aircraft to perform powered, controlled flight on another world – but also for exceeding expectations, pushing the limits, and setting the stage for future NASA aerial exploration of other worlds.
Built as a technology demonstration designed to perform up to five experimental test flights over 30 days, Ingenuity performed flight operations from the Martian surface for almost three years. The helicopter ended its mission on Jan. 25, 2024, after sustaining damage to its rotor blades during its 72nd flight.
So, what did we learn from this small but mighty helicopter?
We can fly rotorcraft in the thin atmosphere of other planets.
Ingenuity proved that powered, controlled flight is possible on other worlds when it took to the Martian skies for the first time on April 19, 2021.
Flying on planets like Mars is no easy feat: The Red Planet has a significantly lower gravity – one-third that of Earth’s – and an extremely thin atmosphere, with only 1% the pressure at the surface compared to our planet. This means there are relatively few air molecules with which Ingenuity’s two 4-foot-wide (1.2-meter-wide) rotor blades can interact to achieve flight.
Ingenuity performed several flights dedicated to understanding key aerodynamic effects and how they interact with the structure and control system of the helicopter, providing us with a treasure-trove of data on how aircraft fly in the Martian atmosphere.
Now, we can use this knowledge to directly improve performance and reduce risk on future planetary aerial vehicles.
Creative solutions and “ingenuity” kept the helicopter flying longer than expected.
Over an extended mission that lasted for almost 1,000 Martian days (more than 33 times longer than originally planned), Ingenuity was upgraded with the ability to autonomously choose landing sites in treacherous terrain, dealt with a dead sensor, dusted itself off after dust storms, operated from 48 different airfields, performed three emergency landings, and survived a frigid Martian winter.
Fun fact: To keep costs low, the helicopter contained many off-the-shelf-commercial parts from the smartphone industry - parts that had never been tested in deep space. Those parts also surpassed expectations, proving durable throughout Ingenuity’s extended mission, and can inform future budget-conscious hardware solutions.
There is value in adding an aerial dimension to interplanetary surface missions.
Ingenuity traveled to Mars on the belly of the Perseverance rover, which served as the communications relay for Ingenuity and, therefore, was its constant companion. The helicopter also proved itself a helpful scout to the rover.
After its initial five flights in 2021, Ingenuity transitioned to an “operations demonstration,” serving as Perseverance’s eyes in the sky as it scouted science targets, potential rover routes, and inaccessible features, while also capturing stereo images for digital elevation maps.
Airborne assets like Ingenuity unlock a new dimension of exploration on Mars that we did not yet have – providing more pixels per meter of resolution for imaging than an orbiter and exploring locations a rover cannot reach.
Tech demos can pay off big time.
Ingenuity was flown as a technology demonstration payload on the Mars 2020 mission, and was a high risk, high reward, low-cost endeavor that paid off big. The data collected by the helicopter will be analyzed for years to come and will benefit future Mars and other planetary missions.
Just as the Sojourner rover led to the MER-class (Spirit and Opportunity) rovers, and the MSL-class (Curiosity and Perseverance) rovers, the team believes Ingenuity’s success will lead to future fleets of aircraft at Mars.
In general, NASA’s Technology Demonstration Missions test and advance new technologies, and then transition those capabilities to NASA missions, industry, and other government agencies. Chosen technologies are thoroughly ground- and flight-tested in relevant operating environments — reducing risks to future flight missions, gaining operational heritage and continuing NASA’s long history as a technological leader.
youtube
You can fall in love with robots on another planet.
Following in the tracks of beloved Martian rovers, the Ingenuity Mars Helicopter built up a worldwide fanbase. The Ingenuity team and public awaited every single flight with anticipation, awe, humor, and hope.
Check out #ThanksIngenuity on social media to see what’s been said about the helicopter’s accomplishments.
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Learn more about Ingenuity’s accomplishments here. And make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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Past, Present, ...
Summary: After sleeping with Bucky after months of comforting him during his nightmares, Y/N returns from a three-week mission to find out she's been replaced.
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Near death, Implying attempted suicide (it's not)
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Not Beta'd. Dusting this off from the drafts. I wrote this while sleep deprived. Not sure how we got here but the original ending wasn't a happy one. Enjoy whatever this is instead.
How much space is too much?
According to James Bucky Barnes, three weeks isn't enough.
Three weeks on an assignment was enough for Y/N to become homesick. She understood she would have to pause her life to save the world, but what no one informed her was that the rest of the world would continue to play.
“Y/L/N?” A familiar voice shouted.
Adjusting the strap of her duffle bag on her shoulder, Y/N turned her head to find her co-worker jogging towards her. Slanting her eyes, Y/N raised her palm to block out the sun.
“Wilson,” she addressed the man when he was near.
Bent over with his hands on his knees, Sam panted. His sweatshirt stretched across his back making the dark patch of sweat more prominent. Squinting up at Y/N, Sam breathed, “Did you just get back?”
Y/N bobbed her head, adjusting the strap on her shoulder once more for emphasis rather than comfort. She did not need to ask to know Sam just returned from his run. He usually ran with Steve and Bucky, but they always finished well before Sam. It wasn’t uncommon for him to return hours after the super-soldiers.
Pushing off his knees, Sam stood, tilting his head toward one of the many entrances in Avengers Tower. He knew better than to offer to carry her duffle bag. The weight of missions was often packed in the bags they returned with.
Y/N and Sam strolled side by side. Sam only paused to open the door for Y/N. Trekking into the tower, he could finally relax his eyes from the intense sun. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the elevator to arrive.
“I thought you were already back,” Sam admitted, watching the light above the elevator doors.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. Her mission was supposed to be longer. If anything, he should have anticipated her return later. Facing the man beside her, she asked, “Why?”
Ding.
Scrambling into the elevator, Sam leaned against the wall across from Y/N. She reflected his behavior, leaning against the wall behind her.
Once the elevator started moving, Sam confessed, “Bucky skipped his run today. I thought I saw you with him before I left. Guess I was wrong.”
Y/N bit her bottom lip, reopening a recently closed wound. She released her lip long enough to confirm what Sam already knew. “You were wrong.” Ignoring the coppery taste flooding her tongue, she drew her bottom lip between her teeth again.
She hadn’t seen her teammates in three weeks. She hadn’t seen Bucky longer. She assumed they were doing great, but Bucky didn't share her thoughts. He denied it, yet he went out of his way to avoid her since their last mission together, since they slept together. How one could be sweet in one moment and cold in another, Y/N would never understand.
Y/N and Bucky started off rocky. He hated her from the moment they met. Bucky was struggling in the field, so Steve asked her to keep an eye on him. Bucky rejected her the second Steve introduced them. He saw through Steve’s plan and stomped his feet like a child. Rather than confirm Bucky’s insinuation, Steve vouched that she deserved to be on the team for her talents, not to babysit Bucky. He even suggested that Y/N and Bucky spar to prove it. Bucky loathed her then. She laid him out several times that day. It was the reason Steve sought her out in the first place. Bucky was a far more experienced fighter than Y/N. He should have won every fight. He lost them all.
Muffled voices were heard from the other side of the doors. Voices Y/N craved to hear since she departed for her mission. When the doors spread, Sam was the first to enter the room. “Hey guys,” he called out, extending his hands toward Y/N, “look who I found.”
Y/N tentatively stepped off the elevator, joining her friends in the living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen so many eyes on her. “I didn’t know there was a party,” she joked, waving.
Tony was the first to speak up, a glass of honey liquid in hand, “Glad, you're back. We were just getting to know Bucky’s girlfriend over here.” He lifted his glass.
Y/N’s eyes followed the direction of Tony’s glass. Her hand tautened around the strap of her duffle bag for support. Y/N hadn’t noticed the extra body in the room at first. The team always had someone over for business or pleasure; it didn’t matter. This time it did because staring back at her was Bucky’s guest, his girlfriend, undoubtedly here for pleasure.
The stunning woman beside Bucky introduced herself. “Hi, I’m Evangelina, but everyone calls me Lina.” Y/N could see the muscles in her uncovered arms tense. Even though she couldn’t see the hand attached to the arm from the other side of the bar, she knew Evangelina was holding Bucky’s flesh hand. “But Bucky calls me Angel,” she added, batting her eyelashes at Bucky.
The woman wasn't solely attractive; she also had a heavenly name. Y/N mentally gagged at the thought of hearing Bucky call his girlfriend Angel.
The coward refused to meet Y/N’s eyes. He took a lengthy drink from a glass matching Tony’s. Stark usually drank top-shelf liquor. Y/N might have been concerned under different circumstances, but she knew the liquor did not affect him, unlike herself.
“Y/N,” she weakly introduced herself, gnawing on her bottom lip again.
“We were just having drinks. Care to join us? There is plenty of alcohol. I can make you something,” Evangelina offered politely.
Y/N’s teeth clamped tight on her bottom lip. She spent three weeks wishing she could return to the tower, only to be treated like a guest, an outsider in her own home.
It was then that Bucky decided to face her, yet his eyes looked right through her. Y/N’s chest tightened. She didn’t know it was feasible to feel more alone in her home, surrounded by friends and a man she had been intimate with, than by herself in a foreign country. She wondered if he could see the hurt written on her face.
“I-I don’t-”
Bucky’s whiskey-strained voice interrupted, “No. No drinks.”
A gasp pulled Y/N's attention away from the couple. Cold, pale hands rested on her cheeks, rotating her head from side to side. “Y/N, you’re bleeding,” Natasha chastised.
Wrestling out of Natasha’s hold, Y/N utilized the back of her hand to wipe the blood from her lip. Staring at the crimson fluid coating her skin, Y/N jerked her head. “I can’t.” Blindly smashing the elevator button behind her, she whispered, “I have to…” her voice trailed off as she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. Disregarding everyone’s silent questions, she bolted into the elevator, only letting her shoulders sag when the doors closed. The strap of her duffle bag slid from her shoulder landing with a thud. Gliding her back down the wall, Y/N cradled her knees and wept.
Every night before bed, Y/N prayed the sun would never rise because when day broke, Bucky vanished. Her dreams filled with memories of their last mission together. Reality was the price of admission for eight hours in heaven.
Y/N clenched her jaw at every public display of affection between the new couple. In the time she had known him, Bucky had never been touchy-feely in public. Now, he couldn’t appear to stop. Bucky only ever reached for Y/N after a nightmare or horrific mission. He reached for her at his lowest and she responded with open arms. He might have another woman occupying his bed, but he continued to fuck with her head.
The voice in her head wasn’t her own anymore. Every thought she had echoed back in his familiar deep timber. She couldn’t shake him. A twisted part of her brain wondered if he couldn’t shake her either.
Sam’s comment when she returned from her assignment should have been her first clue. He had mistaken Evangelina for her. Sam had been the first to mention the resemblance between the two, but it wasn’t the last time Y/N received those kinds of comments.
In the time that Y/N had gotten to know Evangelina, which wasn’t much, she concluded that she didn’t hate her. The two had more in common than she wanted to admit. Evangelina made it a point to befriend all of the Avengers; Y/N included. Y/N hated that she enjoyed her company. It was a tough pill to swallow at first, but she couldn’t hate the woman for her taste in men. Who didn’t find Bucky Barnes attractive?
Bucky had been more challenging to read. He didn’t prevent the women from becoming friends, but he didn’t encourage it either. He continued to keep his distance from Y/N, only interacting with her in group settings.
The Avengers were unaware of Bucky and Y/N’s history. Their relationship was exclusively behind closed doors. Y/N wondered if Evangelina would be her confidante if she knew Y/N had warmed his bed first. Maybe Bucky told her and that was why she pushed to be Y/N’s friend. Maybe that was the reason she asked to raid Y/N’s closet for her date with Bucky. Even though Y/N desperately wanted to slam the door in her face, Evangelina was innocent in the situation. So, she agreed.
“You have so many pretty dresses,” Evangelina said in awe. Her hand ran across each piece of fabric dangling in the wardrobe.
Y/N’s fingers plucked at a loose thread on her comforter. Although they were now friends, helping Bucky’s girlfriend pick out an outfit for their date was still awkward. At least it was on Y/N’s end. Evangelina was none the wiser.
“Perks of being an Avenger.”
“What’s it like being an Avenger? Bucky never talks about his work life. He’s always tense when he returns from a mission.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow even though the other woman couldn’t see her. Bucky was slow to open up, especially about his past as the Winter Soldier. Y/N wasn’t surprised he dodged the topic. Ever since Natasha leaked classified files, Bucky’s past became public knowledge. Bucky and Evangelina’s relationship progressed beyond what Y/N previously had with Bucky, at least on the surface. She didn’t know much about their life behind closed doors. Bucky never took Y/N on a date or made her his girlfriend, but he let her hold him in her arms at night and let her in after a difficult mission. Yet his girlfriend practically confessed she knew nothing about his troubles. That was what shocked Y/N.
“It’s…” she paused, attempting to find the right words to convey the difficulties of the job without disturbing her. “It’s like war. You save and lose people. It’s rewarding and sucks at the same time.”
Evangelina pivoted with a black cocktail dress in hand. “That sounds awful.”
Y/N shrugged. “People do it every day. Steve, Sam, and Bucky were all military men before this.” She waved her hands around the room.
Evangelina caught the shift in Y/N’s tone. It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, a reaction Evangelina grew used to from her exchanges with Bucky. Altering the subject, Evangelina pressed the cocktail dress flush to her body. “What about this one?”
Y/N sucked in a deep breath. She wore the dress on her last mission with Bucky. Though he didn’t say it in public, his reaction when they returned to the safe house that night was enough to know Bucky admired the dress. With Evangelina’s similar figure, Y/N knew Bucky would equally appreciate it on her, especially since he wouldn’t get to rip it off of Y/N again.
She would have told Evangelina about the dress, but it was none of her business. The past was in the past. One Evangelina wasn’t a part of. If Bucky hadn’t told her about their past neither would she. Was it bad to send Evangelina on a date in the dress Bucky had fucked her in? Probably. Did she hope he would think about her the entire date? Absolutely.
Clearing her throat, Y/N plastered a phony smile on her face. “Good choice.” After the date, the dress would be tarnished, like rerecording over an old tape.
Y/N never considered herself a masochist, but she couldn’t escape the role of a domestic sinner. She couldn’t sabotage Evangelina’s relationship no matter how Bucky made her feel; however, she could ruin her own relationship. There was a time in her life when she thought Bucky was the one. Part of her still believed it. It was the part she had to sacrifice.
She told herself Bucky’s soft caresses and lingering stares meant nothing, that every promise spoken was a lie to satisfy the moment. Everything Y/N ever loved had been hard to part with, so she convinced herself Bucky never truly loved her. He couldn’t with how readily he replaced her. Could he? It didn’t matter because he chose Evangelina.
“Hey, Y/N,” Steve welcomed jovially.
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as Steve’s voice carried down the hall. Who was he talking to? Rounding the corner just in time, she hadn’t missed the way Steve’s eyes enlarged at the sight of her.
“I didn’t realize,” Steve began, his eyes flashing between both women. “I thought you were Y/N.”
Evangelina chuckled, gliding her hands across her abdomen to smooth down the front of the dress. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Y/N was considerate enough to lend me her dress.” She turned to Y/N, who was still standing in the archway of the lobby. “Thanks again.”
Before Y/N could reply, a hand slinked around her waist, drawing her into a solid body. Startled, Y/N tensed.
“Hey, Ange-” Bucky’s tongue twisted as his eyes landed on Y/N. He was relieved he peeked at her face before he complimented her appearance. He dragged his arm back to his side in a flash. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”
Y/N chewed her lip, taking a step back. Bucky was dressed from head to toe in black, matching Evangelina. Y/N wondered if they planned to dress for her funeral before or after they killed off any romantic feelings she had for Bucky.
“I did the same thing,” Steve laughed. Bucky glowered at him, forcing his hands into his pockets. Steve held his hands up, “I didn’t touch anyone though, that was all you.”
Bucky grumbled, crossing the lobby to plant a kiss on Evangelina’s forehead. His right hand rested on the small of her back. “You look gorgeous,” he whispered against her hairline.
Evangelina grinned, “You don’t look bad yourself.”
Y/N couldn’t argue with that.
The faint smile on Bucky’s lips disappeared as the hand on Evangelina’s back ran up her spine. The tips of his fingers halted over a loose thread beside the zipper. Anyone would have glossed over it, but not Bucky. Not when he was the one to patch the dress up and certainly not when he was the one to tear it in the first place. When his gaze collided with Y/N’s, she knew he recognized the dress. His eyes blatantly proceeded to check her out.
Y/N flushed as he studied her; however, the moment his eyes drifted to his best friend, Y/N’s blood ran cold. “Are you two,” he pointed between Y/N and Steve. His voice was unable to fully ask the question he wanted to.
Steve slung his arm over Y/N’s shoulder. It was meant to be a joke, but Y/N saw the blaze in Bucky’s eyes. She didn’t know if it was directed at Steve or herself.
“I wish,” Steve beamed down at her. “I have a conference with Fury in an hour. I was hoping to get there early.”
Y/N sent Steve a soft smile. Steve and Bucky were best friends. If anyone knew what transpired between the two on their last mission, it would be Steve. His reaction proved otherwise. She was confident Steve didn’t know about her past with Bucky or he wouldn’t have unknowingly taunted Bucky.
Evangelina ran her hand along Bucky’s back affectionately. “What about you, Y/N? That dress looks amazing on you. I’m almost jealous I didn’t borrow that one.”
Untangling herself from Steve’s hold, Y/N focused on responding to her new friend rather than Bucky. Puffing out her chest, Y/N said, “Thanks, Lina. I have a date.”
Evangelina grinned, “You should join us.” She directed her attention to Bucky, slapping the center of his chest. “They should join us.”
Y/N’s eyes bulged at the prospect of a double date with Bucky. Absolutely not.
“Could be fun,” Bucky added, but his voice lacked emotion.
She officially lost her mind. There was no way Bucky was actually on board with this idea. The man spent most of his time avoiding her. The second she attempts to move on, he tries to interfere. No. No. No.
Y/N shook her head, lying through her teeth, “It’s still new. I’m not ready to introduce him to anyone I know yet.”
Bucky’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s figure for a moment. “That’s not exactly a new relationship kind of dress.” His eyes narrowed in a challenge.
Y/N pursed her lips. “It is for the kind of relationship he and I have.”
Bucky and Y/N’s first assignment together was a disaster. Bucky wasn't prepared to return to the field, but he insisted he was fine. The mission was successful, but only after Bucky hesitated and Y/N was stabbed. The knife was meant for Bucky, and he took her sacrifice for his mistake poorly. They argued even while Y/N was getting stitched up. At the time, they couldn’t stand one another, but looking back on it, it was the tipping point from enemies to friends.
Tony pressured the two to get along for everyone's sake. He suggested going out for a drink and hashing it out. It was the typical outing for a man of Tony’s status with enemies. Bucky had been the first to yield, offering to buy Y/N a drink. As long as it meant they could move forward, he didn’t care. Y/N declined. Bucky scowled in frustration.
“I probably shouldn't tell you this, but ever since the whole enhanced superpower thing, alcohol is like poison to me.”
Bucky’s face softened. Alcohol had been an issue for him and Steve as well. He detested that he couldn’t get drunk, especially with the unwanted memories that plagued his head frequently. It paled in comparison to her side effects. At least he could still consume the liquid and pretend.
“How about dinner then?” Bucky proposed.
Y/N nodded. “Dinner would be great.”
After that, the pair functioned well together. At least until Y/N witnessed Bucky’s nightmares or when he pulled away from everyone after a challenging mission. That was when Y/N began comforting Bucky. While it wasn’t a problem before, it was now.
“Stop staring at me,” Bucky grumbled.
Y/N couldn’t tear her eyes away from the super-soldier. It was their first mission together since he began dating Evangelina. The two of them were trapped in a safe house on the other side of the world. It wasn’t the first time they had stayed in this particular safe house. It was the exact safe house they inhabited on their last mission.
“You’re hurt,” Y/N observed. Bucky naturally had a sway in his gate. Today, it was heavier, as if he had been lugging extra weight around for hours.
“I’m fine,” Bucky rasped, keeping his back to Y/N. He kept his focus on igniting the fire in the fireplace before them.
Y/N frowned. “I don't mean physically.” Bucky remained silent. “Maybe you should call Evangelina,” she proposed. It was the practical thing to suggest, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Bucky than she intended.
Bucky whirled around; the fire blazed behind him. “I said I’m fine,” he barked. His dark eyes pinned her to her spot on the worn couch.
Y/N chewed her bottom lip. If he was going to get angry with her for caring, then she’d get furious right back. “If you’re so fine, then why have you been avoiding me?”
Bucky grumbled something under his breath, running his hand through his hair. “I already told you, I haven’t-”
“Bullshit.” Y/N rose from her seat. “You fucked me after that HYDRA mission and discarded me like garbage,” she fumed. “I gave you space. I’m gone not even an entire month and suddenly you have a girlfriend. Fuck you, James.”
Bucky stormed the room until he was standing in front of her. His nostrils flared as he ran his tongue along his teeth before baring his teeth. Y/N tipped her head back, daring him to put his hands on her. Bucky studied her face momentarily, their faces hairsbreadths from one another as he hissed, “Fuck. You. Y/N.” From this distance, she could see the muscles in his face twist. She knew he was pissed. Bucky pulled away. “You think you know everything. You have no idea what it's like to have someone fuck with your head.”
Y/N shoved his chest hard. Bucky didn’t even flinch. “You! You’ve been driving me insane with your games!” Her hands moved to shove him again, but he caught both of her wrists.
“Don’t,” he growled.
Y/N ripped herself free from his hold. His grip wasn't tight enough to hurt, still she rubbed her wrist anyway, trying to rid her body of his touch.
“Go back to your boyfriend, Y/N,” he commanded.
Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. This version of him was a stranger. “I heard you,” she voiced softly. “That night,” she pointed to the bedroom down the hall, “when you thought I was asleep, you said you love me.”
If she wasn’t an Avenger, she wouldn’t have detected the way his eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Bucky no longer had to wear a mask from HYDRA, but it seemed everyone except Bucky got the memo. His voice matched the stone-cold expression he wore. “I lied.”
It was the lack of sympathy in his voice that slammed the casket closed. With two little words, Bucky Barnes had buried her in the same place he made love to her.
Bucky returned to the tower after dropping Evangelina off when he stumbled across Natasha with a glass of wine in hand. She was snuggled under a blanket on the couch, watching a true crime show. Since he was unsure where everyone else had gone, he settled on the spot beside Natasha.
“Long night?” Natasha questioned, side-eying the brunette.
Bucky moaned, running his hands down his face. “Long week.”
Natasha swirled her glass of wine. “There is still a bit of wine left. It won't get you drunk but it might help you relax.”
Bucky pursed his lips. “I don’t think that will help.”
Natasha shrugged. “There’s some liquor Y/N’s boyfriend left on the counter over there.” She pointed to the nearly empty bottle across the room. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind sharing.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow, “He’s here?”
The red head nodded. “They just got back from dinner. She said they were going upstairs to watch a movie, but after the amount of alcohol they had, I’m sure they are doing more than that.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Bucky stiffened. “They were both drinking?”
“Yeah. The boyfriend came down a couple times to make mixed drinks. He offered me one the last time he was down here, but,” she raised her wine glass.
Before Natasha could continue, Bucky was out of the room, taking the stairs three at a time. He didn’t expect Natasha to understand. People didn’t go around broadcasting their weaknesses. Y/N told him hers, despite them not being friends. It wasn’t his position to share the information. He regretted it now.
Bucky pounded his fist on the wooden door of Y/N's bedroom with a force that made the hinges creak. “Y/N, you in there? Open up,” he pleaded, his voice laced with concern. When he tried the handle and found it locked, his heart sank. “Y/N,” his voice grew more desperate. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and leaned in, straining to hear anything that might give him an indication of what was transpiring inside. Despite his repeated requests, the door remained sealed shut, and Bucky's impatience and frustration mounted with each passing second. His voice grew louder, his fists clenched tightly, as he roared for Y/N to open the goddamn door. But there was no response. Finally, Bucky stepped back, his eyes flashing with rage, preparing to kick the door down.
The door opened the second Bucky lifted his boot. A man Bucky had never seen before pushed past him, flying down the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he cried as he stepped onto the elevator.
Whiplash hit Bucky hard. His head twisted between the man on the elevator and Y/N’s open bedroom door. The second he caught sight of the man's face, he filed it away preparing to deal with him later. Bucky ran into Y/N’s room. His heartbeat drummed loudly, drowning out the sound of the TV playing in the background. He called her name, but there was no response. He scanned the entire room, finding it empty. His boot kicked a glass, the brown liquid staining the carpet. With a lump in his throat, Bucky knocked on the bathroom door and waited for half a heartbeat before he jerked the door wide open.
There she was, sprawled out on the bathroom floor. Bucky crouched down beside her. His flesh hand shook her shoulder as he called her name. No response. He rolled her onto her back, his fingers searching for the pulse on her neck. Bucky almost missed the faint thrum of her pulse beneath his fingers. His own body was shaking. He called her name once again but was met with silence.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y. send the medical unit to Y/N’s room,” his voice quivered as he addressed Tony’s artificial intelligence.
He stepped over her to turn the shower on. Leaving the sliding glass door open, he enveloped her torso in his arms, dragging her bodying into the shower. Crumbling to the floor behind her, he cradled her body under the spray of the cold water.
“Come on, Y/N. Wake up,” he pleaded. He tapped her face repeatedly. “Come on. Not like this,” his voice began shattering. Her head lulled into his chest. Bucky’s fist clenched, mindful not to crush her, as a loud sob tore through his chest. Bucky held her tighter than the clothes adhering to their skin beneath the water. He swayed her slowly as tears gushed down his face. “Come on Y/N. Come back to me,” he croaked. “Tell me to go fuck myself. Anything,” he begged, praying for a reaction. It was futile. Bucky smashed his lips onto the top of her head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open with a groan. Her body was sore on the brink of death. One look around the room confirmed she nearly died. She visited the medical wing frequently between missions. The injuries she had endured on the missions were nothing in comparison to what she was experiencing now.
A pressure landing on the back of her hand had her head snapping to her side. Bucky sat with his forehead pressed to the back of her hand, a prayer escaping his lips. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows searching for her last memory of Bucky.
The brunette lifted his head, running his fingers through her hair. “You scared me,” his voice was shaky, his eyes never left her face.
“Where’s-”
Bucky snarled, “Your boyfriend? Don’t worry about him, he’s an asshole.”
Y/N flinched. “He didn’t know.”
“That’s not why he’s an asshole. He ran and left you on the bathroom floor to die.” Bucky watched as Y/N processed the new information. The lack of surprise concerned him. He didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know. “Did you know there was alcohol in your drink?”
Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms. “Of course, I didn’t, Bucky. You’re an asshole for leaving me too. I’m pissed at you. I’m not suicidal. You did your good deed. I’m alive. Now you can go back to your Angel.” She spat the last words, parodying his words from the safe house.
Bucky sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He just wanted to push her away. He pushed too far. He almost lost her. He couldn’t avoid her any longer, she deserved an explanation.
“It wasn’t a lie,” he mumbled. Part of him didn’t want her to hear it, still wanting to starve off the conversation.
“What?”
He took a deep breath, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him. His face turned serious. “I love you.” Y/N’s heart skipped a beat while her face turned sour. “But I can't be with you.”
A tear rolled down her cheek. “Why are you doing this? Why now?”
Bucky winced at the hurt in her voice. It hurt him too. That’s why he avoided the conversation for so long. “I’m too vulnerable around you. I fall back into my head way too easily. I don’t want to be reminded of my past. Then I met Ang- Evangelina and suddenly, I’m not thinking about all of the people I’ve killed, or the way HYDRA tortured me. With her, I’m living in the present.”
Y/N sat up harshly, the tears had stopped flowing a few sentences ago. “Because you won’t open up to her! You’re running from your problems and the second she’s gone, you’re gonna be stuck in your head again. Alone this time. Sorry, I was only a distraction long enough for you to fuck me. You don’t love her. You love the idea of normalcy with me!” She insisted, jabbing her finger into her chest.
Bucky closed his eyes, his head in his hands.
“For fucks sake, Bucky. She looks like me. This isn’t reality. This isn’t you. You're playing a role in some cheesy romcom. You’re letting her emulate me to fill a spot. She’s my understudy and you know it.”
Bucky ran his hands through his hair before looking up at her. Teary-eyed, he confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who I am anymore. I just want to be normal again.” His head rested on his bent arms, leaning against the bed. His back jolted with each sob.
Y/N rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We’re not normal Bucky. None of the Avengers are, but we’re real.” She ran her hand through his hair comfortingly. “You and me, we’re real.”
He wiped his tears, shaking his head, “She’s out looking for a dog for us to adopt.”
Y/N scrunched her nose. They were taking the next step. Before she knows it, they'll be moving in together, getting married, and have a kid on the way.
“I don’t even want a dog. I couldn’t take care of it with my lifestyle. It just seemed like the normal thing to do. Most families have dogs.”
Y/N hated the idea of Bucky considering a family with Evangelina. She knew him better though. “I always took you for a cat person.”
Bucky smiled at her. “Yeah? What about you? Are you a cat person?”
She nodded. “Less work to train. More realistic in our lifestyle.”
Bucky hummed. The idea of them sharing anything both scared and delighted Bucky. “What kind of cat would we get?”
The corner of Y/N’s lips turned upward. Playing along, she didn’t need to think about her answer, she had already thought about it before. “It doesn’t matter, but he’d have to be white so I could see him against all of your black clothes. Although, cat hairs might be a pain before missions.”
Bucky nodded, his elbow on the bed, propped his head up in his hand. His other hand held Y/N’s as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of her hand as she talked. With a raised eyebrow, Bucky asked, “He?”
Y/N nodded, offended he would suggest otherwise. “You know, so I can come home to my boys. Plus, you need more friends. You two can have a guy's night while I’m away.”
“What if I want to come home to my girls?” Bucky argued.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’ll let fate decide. Whichever we find first.”
He nodded, agreeing to the compromise. “Alpine.”
“Huh?”
Bucky sighed dreamily, “The name.” It was too easy talking with Y/N about adopting a cat as if they were discussing children. It hadn’t crossed Y/N’s mind yet, but Bucky was aware that he wasn’t thinking of the past. He was thinking of the future. A future with Y/N.
Y/N snorted. It wasn’t the name she would have picked but Bucky liked it. She got to pick the color; it was only fair Bucky got to pick the name. “Alpine it is.”
Three weeks later, Bucky and Y/N welcomed Alpine to their shared room at Avengers Tower. The team melted when they met the feline. Even Evangelina. Despite the breakup, Y/N and Evangelina remained friends. The women were filled with too much grace and poise, not to. A trait Bucky had admired in both of them. It should have unsettled Bucky for them to remain friends, but Bucky knew where he belonged now. He might not know who he was or who he is now, but he was certain his future was Y/N.
#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#james buchanan barnes#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfic#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky#james bucky buchanan barnes#james barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes one shot#bucky x reader angst#bucky angst#bucky barnes angst
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Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | ii.
Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.
Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
The party’s already in full swing when you arrive at the OKB house. While getting ready, you lost track of time. Putting the finishing touches on your hair and nails took longer than you planned.
You dodge the bodies swaying to the loud music to make your way to your friends through the swirling blue lights.
Mindy spots you right away and waves at you.
"Not bad, freshman," she praises as you twirl in front of her and Mindy to show off your nurse costume decorated with splashes of fake blood.
They’re both sprawled on the couch, limbs twined. Expectedly, only Anika made the effort to don anything resembling a costume, a pumpkin-colored hat with a bloody knife poking out of it sitting atop her head.
Mindy even bothering to come considering what happened the last time she attended a frat party is already a huge effort on her part.
You chat for some time, sharing the latest news regarding your friends.
You learn that apparently Tara got into it with her sister…again.
A lot of tension has built between the two of them lately, Sam’s protectiveness clashing with Tara’s craving for independence.
Maybe Sam’s been overdoing…but who can blame her?
Those two have been through hell and back.
"Have you guys seen Connor?"
While you attempt to sound casual, even tossing a shrug, Mindy sees right through you and flashes you a teasing grin.
"One-track minded, huh?"
Your face warms. "Sorry, I just…I really looked forward to seeing him."
Anika gives your hand an encouraging squeeze.
"It’s okay, babe. To be young and in love."
"And horny," Mindy adds, dragging a quick eye over your outfit as her smile broadens.
Her comment sparks more heat in your cheeks. Sure, things between you and Connor are growing steamier. But you don’t want to rush anything. You like him, and you want your first time to be special, romantic.
"I’ll see you guys later."
"Have fun," Mindy says, waving her beer bottle at you.
Your search resumes and you grow nervous, pondering if Connor is even in attendance. Maybe you missed him. Downsides of running late.
Damn you and your tendency to spend hours dolling yourself up.
As you wander across the room, you nearly crash into a familiar broad, muscular back.
An easy smile creeps on your face when your friend turns to face you.
"Hi."
"Hey, looking good."
"You too, cowboy."
You’re pretty certain Chad’s never looked bad a day in his life. There’s a reason why he’s the most popular player on the team, and one of the most sought-after guys at Blackmore. Well…several, starting with the fact that his hotness is only matched by his unwavering kindness to everybody he meets.
You suppose if you hadn’t known him for so long, you’d harbor a crush on him too. But you’re too familiar with Chad to see him in that light. You still recall when he insisted on wearing a Pokemon onesie for nearly a year. You used to watch cartoons with him and Mindy as children, play together. He’s even tried to get you into Magic: The Gathering at some point but you couldn’t understand how the game works so he gave up. He’s like the brother you never had.
"So I hear you've met Ethan. He's cool, right?" He throws his muscular arm around Ethan’s neck affectionately. "A whole snack he is. Look at him." An endearing tinge of red decorates Ethan’s cheeks, his gaze fleeing yours.
It draws a smile from you. You’re glad they’re getting along.
You tilt your head, gauging his appearance. Confusion fills you.
You’re not exactly sure what Ethan’s costume is supposed to be. A knight perhaps? Either way, it’s original and it suits him.
"Hey again," you greet.
He lifts two bashful fingers as a response, returning your smile.
"Yeah. I appreciate him helping me out."
Ethan’s chestnut gaze widens at your words.
College’s busy enough for everyone. It’s incredible of him to offer some of his free time to help you out when it doesn’t benefit him in any way.
Ethan opens his mouth as if he were about to say something but, before he can speak, someone taps you on the shoulder, beckoning your attention.
You pivot in your high heels.
Your chest floods with warmth at the sight welcoming you.
"Hey, gorgeous," Connor hums, giving you an appreciative onceover that turns your legs into jelly. His voice lowers as he approaches you. "I’ve been looking for you all night. Where have you been?"
Your heart skips a beat at his closeness, the scent of his masculine cologne and his mesmerizing blue eyes overwhelming you.
"Just ran a bit late," you mumble.
His hooded gaze takes you in as he suggests, "Well, you’re here now. Wanna go hang out in my car?"
Pursing your mouth, you hesitate.
"I…I don’t know. Is that safe? Mindy says it’s always best to stay in crowded-"
He halts your explanation with a hand under your chin. Bewildered, you gawk at him.
His pearly whites shimmer in the dusky blue and green hues saturating the room.
"Do you trust me, gorgeous?"
You blink up at him, dazed and lost in the sea of his gaze.
"Y-Yes, I do."
"I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Come on."
His hand engulfs yours as Connor begins to drag you toward the exit.
Chad’s deep, concerned voice interrupts the abrupt getaway.
"Are you sure?" His forehead creases as he inches closer. "You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. You know that, right?"
At first, you’re a bit confused.
Then you remind yourself he’s just being protective. Both he and Mindy share that trait. In fact, her attentive eyes carve a searing dent in your skin from the other side of the room.
Usually, you adore that about them, how caring they are. But right now, you find it a bit much.
Connor isn’t a threat. He’s just the guy you like, not a serial killer.
You place a placating hand on Chad’s arm.
"It’s fine. I trust him. Catch you later, okay?"
He gives a belated nod, his jaw clenching as he stares Connor down, before letting you walk away.
You wave Ethan goodbye but are somewhat dejected when he stares at you and doesn’t reply, his blank expression unreadable.
Both you and Connor step outside.
Moonlight bathes the damp pavement in silvery light as you trail behind him.
He wastes no time once you’ve reached his expensive sports car, pinning you against the hood and kissing you senseless.
"Fuck, been dying to do this ever since I saw you in that slutty costume," he purrs against your temple. His hands begin to roam over you, impatient fingers fondling your curves.
When he sneaks under your short dress and tugs at the waistband of your panties, you push against his chest.
A sudden tide of discomfort swells inside you.
"Connor…wait. This is going a little fast for me," you giggle.
Ignoring your protests, he keeps kissing you and even turns things up a notch by grabbing a fistful of your ass. You gasp.
"Just relax. I won’t hurt you, gorgeous."
His weight presses against you, a sizzling cage of need you can’t escape. Tears prick at your eyes.
"Connor, please…" you whimper.
Annoyance ripples in his tone as the grip on your rear gets firmer.
"How you’re gonna be a fucking cocktease then give me blue balls, come on, gorgeous."
His tone is light but your chest is heavy. This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You hoped Connor would be gentle and nice.
This isn’t nice.
And you’re starting to feel a little scared. As the taut bulge in his crotch rubs at your front, your stomach knots.
But things don’t get to wander any further.
In fact, they hit a sudden stop as Connor stills against you. Your brows knit.
As he chokes on his own breath, blood gushes from his mouth, painting the front of your costume crimson.
Your eyes widen as his head lolls before he slumps to the pavement with a heavy thud.
Time stands still when your gaze lifts.
Your heart slams against your ribcage.
A tall figure clad in black and donning a Ghostface mask is now standing before you.
The blood rushing in your veins makes your ears ring.
The stranger cocks his head, studying you for a few seconds before pouncing on Connor’s prone form like a starved hyena.
Horror-struck, you gawk as the stranger rains vicious stab after vicious stab upon Connor's writhing body. Each strike draws a shudder from you, more violent than the last and causing scarlet rivers to flow from every part of Connor.
The world becomes red.
A scream bubbles in your throat but remains trapped in it, shock striking you mute.
When Connor's body stops moving, the sickening squish of the blade twisting out of his mangled flesh reaches you.
With the knife in his hand still dripping blood, its crimson hue catching the moonlight, the killer rises to his feet.
His focus travels to you. Your insides coil, deadly anticipation gripping you as tight as a fist.
A gravelly, distorted voice rises beneath the mask.
"This is the part where you run, princess."
Right…
It’s what happens in those horror movies Mindy had you watch with her, you think. The characters run away, fighting whatever’s chasing them with all their might.
It’s the sensible thing to do.
And you want to move. You should move. But you can't.
Even breathing is toilsome, stilted whimpers and gasps spilling from your chest instead.
All you can do is peer into the pupil-less gaze of the mask as you crumble into a quivering, sobbing heap onto the pavement.
The killer inches closer and it's as if your heart jumps out of your chest.
His blade kisses the trembling flesh of your throat, right above your racing pulse.
Languid tears roll down your face as he traces your jugular.
Cool metal slices past your collarbone, to your rapidly heaving chest.
The song of the night yields to the symphony of fear echoing in your ears. Every scattered heartbeat. Every uneven breath. Every desperate sob.
A sharp stinging blooms in your delicate flesh as he carves oblong patterns on your breast with his knife.
His motions are slow and focused, as if your skin’s the canvas and his blade the brush.
Paralyzed, you don’t move. His cloaked figure bends and blurs in your misty vision, more monster than man in the scarce light provided by the street lamps.
He slants his head when he’s done, admiring his handiwork.
This must be it, you infer, the moment all of it ends.
Your eyes quake shut as you wait for the inevitable blow.
You wait… An eternity it seems.
For the blood. For the agony. For the darkness.
Yet nothing comes.
When you open your eyes, Ghostface is gone, the only nightmarish vision before you being that of Connor's body lying unmoving on the pavement.
You pay no attention to the chaos around you as you pull the thin blanket closer to your frame.
The lights of the ambulance twinkle in your hazy sight.
Amidst the chatter of shocked students standing in the street behind the yellow tape, the whispers of reassurance of Mindy and Tara fade to white noise in your ears.
Numb, you gawk as they drag Connor’s body away on a gurney.
For some silly reason, you keep expecting him to rise again, to not be dead.
Because this cannot be real.
This cannot have happened.
The police ask you a barrage of questions and you give mechanical answers. None of them help and they grow frustrated with you, sparking a heated argument between your friends and the stubborn cop.
"I’m just doing my job," he insists, raising his hands when Chad gets in his face.
If it weren’t for Detective Bailey vouching for you, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t be sitting in the back of a patrol car right now.
"Can’t you see the kid’s traumatized. She doesn’t know anything," he berates one his co-worker who seemed unwilling to accept your version of events.
The one where you froze and Ghostface somehow let you live with only a strangely shaped scar on your chest as a souvenir. The one the medic commented looked a little like a heart.
Absently, you pat the gauze covering the healing wound.
It's weird…but it hurts your head to ponder why this occurred. The only emotion you can process is the crippling guilt consuming you.
You’re alive while Connor's cold body is on its way to the morgue.
Your friends gather around you, their warmth chasing away the night’s chill. While Tara and Mindy sit next to you on the pavement, Chad stands protectively in front of you.
"I-I didn’t do anything, Tara. I just let him…" Your voice cracks, withering into a sob.
The arm around your shoulder gets tighter.
"Hey, don’t talk like that. It’s not your fault," she feverishly responds.
You open your mouth to argue but close it once it dawns on you that all the energy’s been drained from your body. There is none left in you.
Still, you can’t help but disagree. If it were Tara, her sister, or even Mindy, you bet they’d have fought tooth and nail instead of shrinking and crying like you did.
You’re the weak link in your group. Not smart enough, or strong enough.
The thought makes you sob harder.
Mindy rubs circles on your back.
You cast a quick glance around before your tearful gaze finds hers.
"Where’s Anika?"
"She went home. She’s not great with blood. She sends her love though."
You nod at that. If you could, you’d be home too, hugging your stuffed bear and trying your best to forget this awful night ever happened.
Chad’s irate tone startles you out of your fog.
"Speaking of people not being here… where the hell is Ethan?"
You blink up at him, confused as he and Mindy trade a pointed, heavy look.
You don’t get it.
Sure, Ethan’s new to the group, and the twins are slow to give their trust. You know that. But Ethan? He’s entirely too sweet and kind to have anything to do with this…Right?
Ethan wouldn’t. You’re sure of it.
~
#ethan landry#dark!ethan landry#ethan landry x reader#ethan landry x bimbo!reader#ethan landry x you#scream 6#scream vi#scream
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Bittersweet revenge
adult Lo‘ak x Quaritch‘s daughter reader
Words: 3.7k
Summary: Ever since the day Lo‘ak had found out that you’ve chosen to rescue your father, the man that basically murdered Neteyam and made his whole life hell, he was out for revenge.
Warnings: explicit smut, minors dni, dark!Lo‘ak, human reader, aged up characters, degradation kink, non-con / dub-con, p in v, handcuffs, vaginal fingering, forced orgasm, size difference, belly bulge, angst
Fifteen years have passed since the battle at the three brothers rock. Fifteen years, since you’ve chosen your fathers side over those of your, more or less, adoptive Na’vi family. It’s been so many years since you’ve last seen any of them, the people you’ve basically spent your whole childhood with, like a second family. No, like your only family, since you didn’t even know your father was (somehow) still alive.
It wasn’t really him, you knew that. He was a clone. A recombinant soldier. The only thing he and your father had in common were his memories, but that didn’t really matter to you. What mattered was the way he treated you. To him, you were his daughter. No if’s and but's. Quaritch was the only thing that came closest to a real father to you in this world and even though you loved the Sully‘s, it was the only right thing to do. You belonged to him and his people more than you belonged to the Na‘vi.
It’s been so many years, yet you don’t even need to look twice to recognize the familiar Na‘vi that was standing right in front of you.
Originally, you’ve only planned to take a walk. Get some samples for Dr. Garvin‘s study about Panopyras while you’re at it. You didn’t even realize how far away from bridgehead city you’ve wandered off to, until it was too late. You’ve mindlessly walked past the kill zone and into the forest, further than you were allowed. Thankfully, after growing up around here, you knew these forests enough to protect yourself from most danger. What you didn’t expect though, was that any Na‘vi would dare to come this close to the border of forest that lead straight to bridgehead‘s kill zone.
But of course, this one did. So typical of him.
You instantly knew that it was him. Lo‘ak. You hadn’t seen him in over a decade, but you knew that it was him without a doubt. And you could tell that he knew it’s you, too. You could see it in his eyes.
"You’ve grown", he simply says, his features not giving away anything. You finally exhale the breathe that you didn’t even realize you were holding, relieved that he was the first to break this unbearable silence, after staring at each other for several minutes. What do you even say to someone, years after you’ve left them so abruptly? And when you had parted ways, it wasn’t in a good way. You had left as a traitor.
But he was one to talk about growing up. You remember the times when he was just barely an inch taller than you, when you teased him about how you would overtake him one day and how he was so small and thin. Oh were you wrong about that. How tall was he now, you wondered. Nine, maybe even ten feet? He was probably taller than the recombinant clone of your father, which was insane to even think about. His body was lean, wide shoulders and a small waist and he looked so much like Jake now. But he still wears his hair the same, two braids loosely dangling in front of his face, the sides of his head shaved clean.
Though his braids are longer now, at least by eight inches. He must’ve spent a whole while longer with the metkayina after you had left– the clans infamous tattoos decorating his chest and parts of his stomach were a clear inidcation of it.
The way he carried himself had changed too. He seems so confident and reserved as he stands there, his features stern and serious and you can’t help but wonder where that happy, curious and playful teenager you‘ve known for all your childhood had went. The one you had always loved from the bottom of your heart, for being exactly that. Did he hide his true self because he was cautious of you? You definitely wouldn’t blame him.
"It’s nice to see you, Lo‘ak", you greet him with a smile, genuinely happy, because you thought you would never see him again. At the same time, it made you wonder what he was even doing out here. Did the Sully‘s finally decide to come back to their home, return to the Omatikaya clan? Or was he just here for a visit? Nevertheless, what was he doing out here? The Na‘vi usually never came this close to the kill zone. You knew that it was strictly forbidden, when you had still lived among the omatikaya clan.
Lo‘aks eyes carefully scanned over your much smaller frame, eyes barely moving as he did. He was taking in every inch of change on your appearance, just like you did. But he was much more subtle about it. If you didn’t know him so well, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed. You couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about right now. Was he angry? Was he happy to see you again? Did he even care? Your questions were surprisingly answered just shortly after, when he finally moved from his spot and approached you slowly.
"I’ve been thinking about you ever since", Lo‘ak confesses, with his eyes still fixed on yours. You can’t help the way your eyebrows rise at his statement.
"About… me?", you question him as if you weren’t sure you heard him right. Lo‘ak shakes his head and chuckles, a low, throaty sound that almost sounds a little sinister to you. "Oh you have no idea…"
You swallow thickly, meanwhile he steps even closer to you. The eye contact that he was holding with you, was almost too intense to bear, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to shy away. You felt uneasy. Like some prey that’s face to face with its predator and if you would dare to look away, he would eat you alive.
"I’ve been thinking about you. You and Quaritch, to be more specific", Lo‘ak says and instantly, you feel your blood run cold, "Been thinking about how I can make daddy’s life hell, just like he did with mine. I’ve been thinking about the things that mean most to him. And you know what I’ve realized?"
You blink at him, like a deer caught in headlights, "W-What?"
"There’s nothing", he chuckles, "Nothing matters to him, nothing really means anything to him."
You could almost hear your own heartbeat pound in your ears when his hand unexpectedly, but slowly, reaches out for you. Your eyes widen, scared of whatever his intentions might be, but then he simply tugs a strand of hair behind your ear. With a half hearted smile on his face, he continues, "Nothing, but you. You’re the one thing he cares about."
"Lo‘ak what d—", but before you could finish asking him what he was even talking about, you find yourself flat on the ground. Lo‘ak crouches over you, pins you down, with your front pressed flat against the ground. You give a yelp of surprise, instinctively struggling against his hold but it’s pointless. He’s always been superior to your strength.
You could feel him shift behind you and then he binds something around your wrists, tying them together so tight that it almost hurt. Almost.
"Lo‘ak please d-don’t hurt me! I swear I’ll tell you anything, everything that I know, but please don’t hurt me!"
"Shh, it’s okay", he coos, "I could never hurt you, sweet thing." His words were meant to soothe you, yet they send your heart racing. Your anxiety grows worse underneath your skin, once you feel the dull side of what you could only assume was a knife and then the sharp sound of fabric ripping, as he cut through the seams of your pants. Next was your slip and then your shirt. He cut everything off that you wore, leaving you bare and exposed before him. You felt humiliated. A cold breeze of air made you shiver as you laid there, not even daring to breathe.
With his hands on your hip, Lo‘ak guides you, makes you curve your spine and wedges your thighs apart with his knee. His hands are warm on your skin, rough palms gliding over the underside of your thighs and then knead the plump of your ass. Blame it on the adrenaline rushing through your veins like some drug, but it felt strangely good. Still, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know that. You trembled at the feeling of his fingers digging into your flesh. A low hum, coming from deep inside his chest reached your ears when his hands wandered further down the roundness of your bottom. With his hands on either side of your thighs, he spread your soft folds apart using his thumbs. Instantly, you tug against your restraints. The cold forest air brushing against your most private parts suddenly made you very aware of the situation you were in.
"Lo‘ak wait–"
But the Na‘vi only chuckled. Glancing at him over your shoulder, you’re met with the same pair of eyes that always looked at you so adoringly, so full of love. But now he was just looking at you like you were prey. Like a cat watching a mouse that was caught in a trap. Like he wanted to consume you.
Lo’ak brings his hands down between your thighs, cupping your sex to get a feel of how wet you are and you inhale sharply. His long, slender digits glide through your folds easily and he hums, "So wet for me already, hm? Did I get you all excited like this? Or did you just miss me so much?"
You hiss when not only one, but two of his fingers then slide into you with little to no effort. "What would your daddy think, if he could see you like this? You’ve grown into such a filthy girl", Lo‘ak says lowly, his words mocking you and you squeeze your eyes shut as if you couldn’t hear him like this. But they fly right open again when he starts to pump his digits in and out of you. His pace is fast, merciless even, and you squirm underneath him. He curls them as if he was beckoning to you, rapidly hitting that spongey spot that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.
It was embarrassing how fast Lo‘ak could turn you into a trembling, whimpering mess. The squelching sounds he expertly worked out of your pussy only added further to your humiliation. At this pace, it was impossible not to come. And Lo‘ak knew it. It was like he needed to draw that orgasm out of you, like his life depended on it.
You could feel that familiar, addicting, tension building up in your core, stealing the very air from your lungs as you moaned and gasped with your cheek shoved against the mossy ground. Lo’ak wasn’t gentle as he helped you to your release. He straight up pushed you over the edge with a pinch to your sensitive clit, rolling it with his thumb until your legs were shaking. But he didn’t let you ride it out, didn’t let you relish in the feeling of your orgasm because he draws away when you’re still at your high.
You can’t help but whine when he leaves you empty, with your walls clenching around nothing, missing the feeling of his rough fingers scissoring you open.
Looking over your shoulder, you watch him flip his loincloth to the side to reveal his hard cock. He was big– like, really big. Definitely matching the rest of him, in size and color. You didn’t know what scared you most, the thought of taking his entire length or having his girth split you open. You could literally see it throb in his hands as he stroked himself a few times. Meanwhile, his eyes were still fixed on yours, like he was in some sort of staring contest that he was about to win. He seemingly took great pleasure in watching you swallow thickly by the sight of him.
"You know", he begins as he then lines his cock up with your slick hole, "I used to have a huge crush on you when we were kids."
You feel the head of it, thick and warm, nudge between your soft lips and then prod at your entrance. You close your eyes shut and try your best to mentally prepare yourself, but it’s all for nothing when he finally pushes the tip in, letting his cock sink into the tight heat of your cunt. He’s rewarded with a high pitched whine falling from your plumb lips as you tense underneath him.
"I’d come home and rub one out whenever we hung out. Always hugged you a little tighter when you said goodbye so I could imagine you pressed against me, all hot and desperate. Ha. Just like right now, isn’t that funny?" He was saying this so nonchalantly, like he wasn’t just burying himself balls deep inside your pussy.
When his pelvis finally makes contact with the soft swell of your ass, he groans and let’s his head fall back against his neck. For a moment he stays like this, just relishing in the feeling of your soft walls fluttering around his cock.
"Fuck", Lo‘ak breathes out before he looks down at you again, "Just as tight as I imagined. Always knew you’d feel so fucking good."
He let out a grunt as he pulled back slightly, before burying himself deep again, his dick knocking on your cervix like an iron hammer. You choke on a whimper and then he sets his pace, fast and deep strokes, like he was aiming to fuck the very soul out of you. You were so tiny compared to him, it was a miracle that you were even physically able to take all of him and with the way he plunged his cock into you, it felt like he was already in your stomach. The sounds he knocked out of your throat, every time his pelvis made contact with your ass, were straight up pornographic. With his hands secured on your hips, he pulled you back to meet his thrusts and it made the whole thing so much worse. Or better? At this point, you didn’t even know anymore.
Everything was too much –too good, too deep, too fast, too rough. All you could do was take it. Just lay there, with your face shoved uncomfortably against the ground and your back painfully arched and take whatever he was giving to you. It was like he used fifteen years full of pent up hate and anger and the unresolved need for revenge and took it all out on you. Because anger was everything he had left. Because anger was better than tears, better than grief and better than guilt. It was so much easier to handle.
Meanwhile, you felt that tension building again. You feel it crawl under your skin, a warmth spreading through your core and you can’t help but push yourself back against Lo‘ak. You wanted– no, you needed to cum. You find yourself having no control over this, just letting yourself go because it feels too damn good.
"Shit, are you coming again? Feels good, right?", you hear Lo‘ak chuckle behind you, squeezing the flesh of your hips a little harder when you clench around his cock, "Yeah, so fucking good, we should’ve done this sooner."
It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. When you come, it’s like a release. It pulses throughout your body and you moan, loud and lewd and you should probably feel a little embarrassed too, but you couldn’t care less. Not when Lo’ak was fucking you through it so good, until it was on the verge of overstimulation.
"There you go, fuuck yes", he groans, slumped over your trembling frame so his mouth was close enough to your ear that you could hear him breathe and pant, "You sound so fucking cute when you come, you know that? All these noises just for me. I‘m flattered."
You hum in response, whether you agreed to his words or not, you didn’t even know. You feel like a warm puddle of goo when he suddenly pulls out of you. You’re slick between your legs, wincing when he flips you over and onto your back so you were facing him. Laying on your own arms, that were still bound behind your back, like this was uncomfortable, but you didn’t had nearly enough brain capacity to care about that right now.
You probably looked a little worn out, your eyes half lidded and barely focused until Lo‘ak pinched the soft of you thighs and you let out a small hiss.
"Hey", he chuckled above you when you finally looked up at him, "don’t pass out on me now."
Almost effortlessly, he pushes his thick cock back inside you. You felt full. So incredibly full, as he slid himself past your sensitive entrance. The last few inches of his length were introduced with a harsh thrust that punched the air from your lungs with a grunt.
"You feel that?", one of his hands comes to caress the swell of your lower abdomen, where his cock was nestled deep in your core and created this very visible bulge, "I’m all the way up here, see?"
Your eyes widen when he uses his thumb to press down on it, before he started moving his hips again. It seemingly bought him pleasure, feeling his cock move underneath your flesh. He was transfixed by the sight too.
Putting just a little more force behind his thrusts, he enjoyed how your pussy tightened around him, your body struggling to take all of him in this new position. Thankfully, you were so, so incredibly wet. So much so, that your slick begins to leak out and dribble down the curve of your bottom. His heavy balls smack against the slickness flowing out of you, creating more of these obscene sounds that filled both of your ears.
"Hmh, that’s it. Want you to feel me— fuck, so deep inside that little pussy you'll still feel me there for days."
"Lo‘ak", you draw his name out into a mewl, almost as if you were begging. But begging for what? You had no idea what you were even begging for. Maybe you just wanted to say his name, taste it on your tongue. "Lo‘ak", you moan it again. It’s been so long since you’ve said it out loud, so many years. "Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak", you chant it with every thrust of his hips, mix it between loud moans and whimpers.
"Again", he pants, his breathing becoming more rapid and heavier than before, "Say it again."
"Lo’ak! Lo’ak! F-Fuck, Lo’ak!", you moan his name like a prayer, again and again. Once for every year that you had spent without him. Once for every time you cried yourself to sleep because you missed him so much. Once for every time you found yourself laying in your bed, hands pushed past the waistband of your pyjama pants as you played with yourself, with him on your mind. "Lo‘ak! Lo‘ak!"
His rhythm seemingly begins to falter, like your words affected him enough to draw him closer to the edge of his orgasm. But he wasn’t the only one who was close yet again, with the way your walls were clamping down on his cock. You feel his pace change, not necessarily slower but his thrusts become shorter, deeper.
"I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum and fill you up and you will walk all the way back home with my cum dripping down your thighs and shit— I hope your daddy sees. Let him know it was me, that I did it. I fucked his precious daughter, ruined her for every other men", Lo‘ak groaned the words before he slumped over. His face was hovering over yours, just inches apart and for a moment you think, you hope, that he would kiss you. He’s was so close. So incredibly close, you wouldn’t even need to lift your head, just a little tilt would be enough—
But that kiss never comes.
What finally brings you to fall apart, was the sudden feeling of his warm cum flooding your insides. You whimper his name, one last time before he stills his movements. Your walls spasm around him and he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head. He’s silent, just watching you, until you’ve come down from your high.
When you finally open your eyes again, you’re struggling to catch your breathe, while he seemed completely unfazed.
You blink a few times before you realize that his mimic had returned to this cold, untouchable and emotionless face. The one you would’ve never thought you’d ever see on him. On him, that boy that you would’ve described as the most joyful person in your life not long ago.
But the words, that then leave your lips, are the complete opposite of that. You cringe at little once they had slipped out, yet it was impossible to hold them back any longer. Where he had all this hate, pent up over the last fifteen years, you had nothing but love. For him.
It filled your heart, painfully even. It was like your feelings, the ones you had suppressed for so long, had suddenly erupted like lava from a volcano. And they hurt quiet the same way. Burned your throat and then your tongue, once they had spilled.
"Lo‘ak I… you know I love you. I always have."
He looks at you. A second passes and then another. You wince when he pulls himself out of you, leaving you completely exposed before him. The sensation of his still warm cum seeping out of your overused hole was uncomfortable and you couldn’t help but close your thighs and press them together tightly in an attempt to keep it from flowing out. Meanwhile, Lo’ak raises to his full height, straightening his loincloth to cover his privat parts again.
You look at him with big, round eyes, a faint blush still lingering on your face as you wait for him to finally respond. Or at least untie your arms as they were starting to ache horribly.
"L-Lo‘ak?", you call out for him softly.
Warmth spreads in your chest when he crouches down next to you, one of his hands coming to caress your soft cheek. You lean into it almost instinctively and right when you thought he would either respond or untie you, help you up and redress… he draws away completely.
"No. You don’t."
#avatar 2#avatar#avatar the way of water#avatar way of water#awow#loak x female reader smut#loak x reader#loak x y/n#loak#loak x reader smut#avatar loak#atwow loak#loak smut#loak x you#loak x female reader#lo’ak smut#lo’ak x reader#lo’ak#lo’ak avatar#lo’ak te suli tsyeyk’itan#lo’ak sully#Lo’ak x female reader smut#neteyam sully#neteyam x reader smut#･ ｡ﾟ☆: *my works* :☆ﾟ.
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Art piece is by @lambpaca! Happy Leap Year to all you Lovers
Oh I love this. Friend, again, thank you, thank you, thank you
So there's a silly little tradition that was/is still practiced in several different countries. The tradition was, on the 29th of February, women could propose to men. It is still practiced today, more in jest than anything else, but in my own sphere, I have seen the Leap Year Day become a time when 'unconventional' couples of all stripes get together, both cis and queer.
I always liked this unofficial tradition. My partner and I actually made our plans to get married last Leap Year, in 2020, over text during lockdown. Sitting here, now married to my best friend, I still have a copy of this original print on my phone to remind me of the joy in that moment, as this picture was the thing that started that conversation.
So it's got a lot of sentimentality for me
---
The above was drafted before news broke that Tumblr would be partnering with Midjourney and Open Ai. As such, this beautiful art is now protected by the brilliant people of Chicago University and their relentless work to combat scrapping with Glaze and Nightshade.
There is a certain poetics, to me at least, posting this work now. The whole concept of Leap Year engagements was to go against the norm, pushing back against expectations and current reality as we strive for something better. The reason the tradition is no longer mainstream is because many of us have reached a point in our existence where we do not have to wait to be free.
Many, but nowhere near all. The fight is not yet done. As such, we will continue on until it is, in fact, all of us.
This goes for all aspects of personhood, but now, in this specific case, it also means joy in the freedom of art and artistic expression directly in spite of the companies that would seek to try to steal that from us and profit off of its corpse.
In short, fuck the concept that what is happening is normal. Fuck the concept that we are powerless to change it. Love is Love. People are People. Art is Art. Joy cannot be minted in artificial hands, be it those of societal dictation or designed machine. No matter what happens, the human spirit will prevail, and we will break any shit that stands in our way of achieving happiness.
Thank you again, @lambpaca - This means more than words can say.
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MASKED INTRUDER PT 3 I BEGGGGG, ugh, clingy inexperienced yandere + language barrier + overeager and aggressive + needy needy needy, He is perfect! Honestly i had a spiral and came straight here to read my comfort fics and i forgot how much i loved that one 🥺 leooooo
A/N: Still not sure what I should do about Leo's origins; I've had some thoughts but nothing really planned out. Anyway thank you lots anon!
Here's Pt. 1 and Pt. 2 Word count: 2400
TW: Possessiveness, jealousy, threats of murder, razor blades, average creepy dude living in your walls behavior
Synopsis: An unexpected guest comes over, causing chaos to ensue.
The sensation of soap under your fingernails and warm water running down your forearms was one of comfort that you openly welcomed. You couldn't remember the last time you took a bath, and you could hardly count this bathing of your 'roommate' as a bath of your own.
But with your shirt soaked and your forehead damp, you finally had what could be mildly considered a clean version of Leo.
He begrudgingly sat on the cool tile floor, allowing you to ruffle his hair with a bath towel (which was really a poor attempt to manage the mess of loose, lengthy curls on his scalp.) He needed a haircut for sure, but you couldn't muster up the courage to put the scissors to his head.
Getting him out of the house to an haircut appointment would never happen. To say he was agoraphobic was a complete understatement-- he abhorred the outside world. You sometimes think about what would've happened If you hadn't taken pity on him, allowing him to continue to find refuge in your tiny home. Or, was it perhaps he was allowing you? Until, he found that you wouldn't suffice as a worthy roomate any longer, disposing of you like he could've done to whoever originally owned this home. The mystery surrounding his origin that he seemed to completely ignore answering on still made you… cautious.
He still felt like an extension of the house; the smell of its creaky, rotting walls, still always clinging to him-- even now, after you scrubbed him down from head to toe twice.
You grunted as you roughly tugged his head back and forth to rub the remaining water away. Unfortunately, that left you with a frizzy Leo with more hair spun out of control than you knew what to do with.
He blindly searched for the towel behind him without turning his head, yanking it away when he felt it in his fingers.
"Do it myself…" he mumbled croakily, like a rusted music box.
"Alright." You said, slightly offended. You held your hands in front of you dramatically, watching Leo wrap himself with the towel.
He looked so frail like this, on the bathroom floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. His scrawny frame hardly gave him any weight either, even if he was above six foot. You wondered if he really could hurt you, if-- he ever had the urge, to stab you with the rusty razor blade you watched him grip after he came out of the walls once company left.
How long would it be? Until he snapped, until one argument was just too much, and you were no longer his favorite person in the world. Tonight was one of those nights, where you imagined yourself bleeding out on the floor, Leo standing above you with that blade, or perhaps a knife from the kitchen-- the one you noticed had gone missing a few days prior.
Your fear wasn't out of place despite how many times you tried to rationalize how stupid it was.
Several hours earlier, before Leo was as clean as he was now, you had a guest over.
It was an old university friend, a guy you met in your first year during some odd end prerequisite or math class-- You couldn't remember. But it didn't matter, at least not to Leo.
The moment the "intruder" sat down, you heard Leo's presence shift behind him. You could see his black eyes peering in and out of the holes in the dining room, sounds of his sporadic shuffling echoing throughout the house. You cringed everytime your friend looked up and around himself in confusion, curious of the noise.
"It's just rats," you cover, kicking the wall behind you with a force that should've knocked down the drywall. The sound of Leo letting out a thump of retaliation nearly made your smile crack.
You had rescued your university pal several times over the course of that night, finding the dead bugs in his drink before he could've noticed, and shutting Leo back into his hiding spots anytime you saw his hand or leg peek through, when he occasionally got the courage to try and dispose of the 'threat.'
It wasn't until your guest had asked to use the bathroom however, that Leo managed to gain a win. Cursing and yelling from the locked door made you panic, the few minutes of silence in the living room having seemingly tricked you of peace. You should’ve known that silence never meant a good thing.
Sprinting to the bathroom, you got there in time to find your old friend covered head to do in dust and dirt, the bathroom vent still emitting a cloud of grey. Dust fell from the vent, spraying with the blow of the air conditioning.
"Stop!" You screamed, kicking the back of the bathroom wall multiple times in retaliation. The dust immediately lessened, flecks still falling into your hair. You grunted and cursed, seeing the disaster your bathroom had become and the filth your friend was left in.
It was safe to say you escorted him quickly out thereafter, blaming the “malfunction” on your worse for wear vent ducts. His confused expression lingered as you walked him out the door. Your horrible cover ups had you questioning whether or not he was convinced but thankfully there seemed to be some sort of unspoken understanding-- maybe he knew you had to be going through something from how odd your behavior was all night-- or maybe it was just misplaced pity.
Either way, you were relieved to watch him exit the door with a washcloth you knew you’d never get back, telling him to be safe on his way home with a wry smile.
Shutting that door was the biggest relief ever. The last person you'd want to know about your odd roomate situation was one of the few people in the world who had preconceived standards of you.
You had never worried about Leo when you had groups of friends over; he never dared to leave from his hiding spot when more than one foreign person entered the house. But this time, it had been a single unknown entity, and a male one at that. You felt the realization hit you directly in the gut as your back laid against that cool wooden door, the sounds of Leo leaving one of his more trickier, less clean hiding spots echoing in the house.
"Leo?" You called out, a slight inflection of annoyance in your voice.
You watched him crawl out of the large vent in your hallway, the metal grate coming off as two dirty hands forced it to the floor. Leo shimmied his way out of the tiny crawlspace, clouds of dirt coming with him as his legs finally came free.
Scrambling up, the male blew dust out of his mouth, wobbly getting to his feet. With a sly glare and a satisfied expression, Leo looked towards to you silently; smugly.
Pinching his ear and dragging him to the bathtub had been your first approach at reprimanding him; but it had done nothing to deter him. Leos silentness and resentful, pouting face left you to scold a brick wall, his rigidness extending to his body's heavy limbs and sluggish pace.
Even now while slowly rubbing the towel back and forth on his scalp, his face turned away defiantly.
A quiet moment passed as you watched him scrub himself dry.
"I just… I don't understand why you have to act this way."
Leo stopped. His head had been hanging low, thin wrists resting on his knees as water droplets rolled down the ends of his hair. His hand-me-down stretched pajamas covered his chest and thighs. You never thought an old pair of basketball shorts and a faded grey shirt would look so good on him, but you couldn't help to linger on his fingers and the curve of his neck muscles.
Without warning Leo stood up, pushing off the ground with one hand as he held the towel loosely in the other.
"What're you doing?" You question.
He wouldn't face you; his mask prosthetic was left on the edge of the tub, and without it-- well, it was impossible to make eye contact with him.
Leo reached for the light witch next to the shut bathroom door, flipping it without a word.
As soon as you saw him pull the light switch the color drained from your face.
You didn't speak, waiting in the dark to see what Leo's next move would be. Maybe he hid that Razor blade somewhere in his clothes, and was aiming it at you right this second.
"If you're gonna--"
"Shh." A voice hushed.
The warmth of flesh was pressed against your lips. It was a finger; hot breath fanned above you, the finger on your lips turning to a hand that cupped your cheek. Your face was held so securely, being tipped upwards as he stood leering above you. The bathroom was quiet save for the dripping of the bath pipe, and Leo's heavy breathing.
Leo reached for you, awkwardly climbing atop your lap. He stumbled at first, but the way he curled his arms around your back, you felt like you couldn't let him go.
His nose nestled into the crook of your neck, crumpling into you like an animal looking for warmth.
"I don't share…Don't like it.." he mumbled.
"What?"
"Things, my things.." He started, the sounds of his labored breaths hitting your ear. "Don't like it when… strangers touch… my things."
"Wai--Leo!"
You couldn't help but search for his eyes in the dark, doing a happy little wiggle with him in your arms.
"Your voice has improved so much!" You beamed. He hadn’t spoken since the incident, and before that-- well, it took a lot to get him where he was.
“See, I knew pushing you would pay off.” You beamed, gloating in the feeling of success after remembering all the painful vocabulary lessons and hours of his stubborn behavior when you refused to answer his nonverbal pleads.
Leo’s quietness as you pinched his ear beneath his fluff of loose curls gave you time to snap back to reality-- remembering the words he just spoke. Leo basked in the praise, gripping onto your damp shirt as he ignored your change in expression.
The obvious possessiveness made you nearly cringe; this is exactly what you were trying to avoid.
“But Leo, I’m not just yours- I’m everybody’s. There are other people my time has to be shared with--”
You were cut off with the flick of an all too familiar razor blade, twirling in Leos fingers.
“Then….I’ll kill them.”
“....Kill?”
Leo leaned up, bringing his face closer to yours than he’d ever done before.
“I… wanna kill. Him. Kill….all of them..” His eyes were wide in the dark, and you could see the faint outline of the scars running down his face. You stared hard into his eyes, witnessing the fear and paranoia in them. “They’ll take.. You away. He will.” His throat was getting raspier, more raw.
“Leo, you know you can’t say things like that..” You softened. He sounded so small, you could hardly believe his words. But in the back of your mind, alarm bells and bright red warning signs were going off.
You reached for his face, hoping to hold it in your hands, feel the warmth of his skin. But Leo stopped you, holding your wrists. He rejected you from touching his face, again; had things truly changed? Had you made any progress with him?
And like clockwork, Leo reached for his mask, by the bathtub, sitting comfortably on your lap as he faced you.
He adjusted the prosthetic on his face, resting it snugly as the back clipped.
“You really wanna stop me from kissing you that badly?” You joked.
But then the mask was lifted, just slightly, as Leos lips came closer for yours. Now that you brought the idea up, he wouldn’t let it go.
“Kiss..” He mumbled, trying to reach for your face.
“Ah ah,” You waved a finger at him. “Don’t think I’m going soft after what you just said.” Leo let you push your two fingers against his lips, puckering them. “We’ve talked about this; what did I say?”
“Killing is….it is,”
“It’s wrong, Leo.”
“Its.. wrong.” He whined, bringing your other hand to his chest. He didn’t want it to be wrong, he wanted you to let him run wild and do what he knew he needed to do--”
“Promise me, Leo.” You pulled your hand slightly away. “Promise me you won’t.. Hurt anyone. Okay?”
He went quiet, letting a small grunt out as you kept pulling away the longer he stayed quiet.
“Say it.”
“Fine… okay.” He croaked.
You went limp and let him hold you close to him, his face leaning close as he looked for your approval.
“Kiss..?” He mumbled again, following where your head turned to catch your lips.
“Only because you’re finally being good..” You let him grab your chin like a cat pawing at you, his other hand nestled into your hair. “But you really don’t deserve this, especially after toni--”
You were cut off with a hungry lick, Leo’s mouth twisting against yours as the mask bumped against your nose. He lifted it just a bit higher, concealing only half of his face as he leaned deeper into you. His mouth was as warm as usual, but you could feel his warn down jealousy still through the rush of his lips.You wondered if you should really be rewarding him now after all he tried to pull.
A guttural purr released from his throat when he broke free from your mouth with a huff, running his hand down your back. He tried to pull your hair out of your face with his free hand, leaning for another kiss.
“Wait Leo,” You put a hand in front of your lips, the other out with your palm up. “Give it to me first.”
Leo let out a dramatic sigh. He sat for a moment, stubbornly waiting to see if you’d really push him or let it go.
“Come on now,” You beckoned with your hand.
Huffing with frustration, Leo took as slow as possible to pull the razor blade from his pants.
#writing#x reader#reader insert#yandere#self insert#yandere x reader#male yandere#fanfiction#stalker#stalker x reader#obsession#possessive x reader#possessive#possessive yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#masked yandere#tw yandere#horror#horror romance#dark fantasy#obsessive#obsessive yandere
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How long do you plan making rekindled? I loved Lo at some point, But now I cant get enough of your version!! And I wanted to know how did you come up with the darker back stories for Rekindled?
I have a semi-detailed skeleton of the plot with basically every story beat planned out, but I can't definitively say how long it will be as I haven't actually scripted every single episode out yet.
Not to mention a lot of the time my scripts will change from their original versions, by the time I get to an episode I've planned ahead for I've either thought of new ways to do it or don't like how it's paced so I change it. Case in point, there was a specific scene I had planned for the next episode and then wound up not liking the pacing because it was too fast so I moved it to several episodes away and restructured everything on the fly, took a whole new text document and scrapping sketches to figure shit out LOL I actually do have up until Episode 70ish scripted out in my documents with like, actual notes and dialogue for each episode, but I already have sooo many of those crossed out now because of how much I've had to tweak and change as time has gone on. This is why I plan ahead well in advance though, so that if I do need to make those changes, I can make them long before the episodes are even due to be drawn (and believe me, they get changed during the sketching phases too LOL).
What I can confirm for certain is that the current 'arc' we're in right now is definitely the bulk of the story. And that's not to say there isn't any content afterwards, more like the pacing just gets completely turned on its head in the last 30-40% of it where shit gets N U T S and just can't go back to the same energy that it was in the beginning. Without spoiling, there's a certain 'turning point' in the plot and everything after it isn't quite as long as the stint of story we're in now. This is mostly because the arc we're currently in is still establishing a bunch of stuff like the Underworld Corp, Persephone's schooling, etc. and once that turning point hits, it's basically all character development and focusing on the consequences of everything setup in the first arc.
I guess if I had to illustrate it, the story progression in the end will look something like this?
It's basically just this slow and chill climb that, once it hits that sharp peak, doesn't ever return to normal levels LMAO So I guess enjoy this part of the story while you can because it's the chillest it'll ever be w(°ｏ°)w And boy, I am EXCITED for that peak, but we have a long way to go before we get there. As for how long, well, I'm hoping I'll be able to have Rekindled's story wrapped up in the next 2 years, tops. Just depends on how the update schedule goes, and assuming the plans I have put down for the plotting don't change in any major way. I don't have as much of the latter half of the story actually scripted out yet so for all I know it could wind up being way longer than anticipated, but right now I have a pretty good sense of how the story beats will play out in relation to each other.
So it's kind of a wait and see thing, at least until I have every episode scripted out, and even then I won't be 100% sure because things are always being tweaked and fixed and changed on the fly! I'm guessing it won't go much longer than 170 episodes, give or take, but that's a very very VERY rough estimate.
Regardless, Rekindled still has a lot more story to tell, and I'm hoping y'all enjoy the ride with me <3
As for the darker backstories, y'all don't even know yet. Like... I've got stuff planned. Stuff that even Banshriek (my BG assistant) doesn't know about. Stuff that I keep buried very deep in Rekindled's episode documents that won't see the light of day until they have to be ripped out of the deep dark trenches of the characters' own buried secrets, and by that point, the toothpaste will be out of the tube, there will be no going back. So, again... enjoy it while it lasts. Because I don't pull my punches. And maybe even you won't be able to look at me the same way again once the final blow has been dealt.
Sleep well.
:)
#k but i am actually really nervous for how those bigger turning points go#esp the spiky one LOL#i feel like it'll definitely be uh. interesting. in how people feel about it.#but mostly because it'll just be a punch to the gut#i will definitely give adequate warning when it's coming so that people can steel themselves LOL#ask me anything#ama#anon ama#anon ask me anything#lore rekindled ama
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3 Xiao Zhan.
Original Article: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/7YZimnoaGOkx-vTeiPyckg
Original Author: 智族GQ
Translator’s note: The article will be published in the February 2024 Issue of GQ
Xiao Zhan:
Clear goals, accepting results
01 Relaxation
The studio was by the Huangpu River in Shanghai, Xiao Zhan was wrapped in a black down jacket, he had took off his shoes, and sat cross-legged on the corner of the sofa, looking very relaxed. The filming came to an end for the time being. Although he had been working continuously for more than 7 hours, there was no trace of fatigue on his face.
This is a face that attracts attention all the time. A few months ago, the studio released a Xiao Zhan’s birthday photoshoot, and keen-eyed netizens immediately noticed that his face had “became rounder”. In order to play the character of Guo Jing in the movie “The Legend of the Condor Heroes: The Great Hero”, which was directed by Tsui Hark, Xiao Zhan gained weight before joining the group, his cheeks were no longer so thin and his figure was obviously more buff. In the photographs, he had a stubble and the vicissitudes of life were slightly visible on him.
Strictly speaking, “The Legend of the Condor Heroes: The Great Hero” was Xiao Zhan’s second movie. There were many previous classic versions of Guo Jing’s character, and the pressure on him was obviously visible.
On the day of the cover shoot for “GQ”, Xiao Zhan got up very early to go for a run. He could not help but think, my God, I am going to lose muscle mass again after sweating so much. He debated whether to continue, and finally decided to run for 30 minutes. When the time came, he remembered that body fat would start burning after 30 minutes, so he ran for an additional 10 minutes.
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All of these is for work. “Actually, I don’t want to run. Running will lose muscles mass, but I have to run to reduce swelling.” After the filming, he planned to do weights training no matter how late it was. An actor’s self-discipline is to be always ready to shape his image for the character, but he must also strictly control his diet and manage his body shape. Xiao Zhan regards both as professional standards and expects himself to do so
Before meeting, I thought Xiao Zhan would be very cautious about interviews. To my surprise, Xiao Zhan had a rare sense of relaxation, answered all questions, and was even humorous. When mentioning that actors should observe characters in life, he commented on the sitting postures of several people present; when asked what things he did not expect after joining the industry, his answer was that he could not eat whatever he wanted like his high school classmates.
The interview lasted for almost two hours, I became curious about what kind of experience it had been for Xiao Zhan, who had been under immense attention in the past few years. Xiao Zhan said instead that he had forgotten this matter frequently and it did not cause him a lot of trouble in life, the most “cruel” thing might have been “being unable eat as much as you want”.
“I will still sneak out to ride my bike, take a walk, and do a City Walk. There was only one time when I was recognized after walking in a alley for 5 minutes. I also mingled into the cinema and watched a movie. No one will care about you, really. After leaving the Internet, many things will be solved easily. Sometimes it seems like what is before our eyes is the world, this is a misunderstanding, but yet we cannot avoid this misunderstanding, so there is no way around it.”
There were so many things he especially wanted to do, such as taking the subway and going shopping. “I will really squeeze onto the subway, perhaps tomorrow, it’s so normal, I used to take the subway every day.” For Xiao Zhan, this was the life he really wanted. The voices of social media no longer bothered him, “After all these years, can I still live if I’m still bothered? (laughs) It’s really just fine.”
At this stage, Xiao Zhan is very satisfied with his living situation. “I have a job, a life of my own, and an audience that likes me. I have nothing to be dissatisfied with.”
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02 Becoming an Actor
To a certain extent, Xiao Zhan’s sense of relaxation stems from his increasingly clear goals. The voices from the external world no longer bothered him, he is clear about what he wants and what he do not want. Now, he is doing more subtraction for himself. In the past two years, he had rarely appeared in variety shows, taking the career of actor as his most important goal at this moment.
In 2023, 3 television dramas starring Xiao Zhan broadcasted, and each character was a challenge for Xiao Zhan. During the interview, Xiao Zhan said many times that he was “under a lot of pressure”, and he said this almost every time when reviewing every stage. But his tone was light, without the heaviness of complaints, more like a post analysis and summary, the reasons were often specific and objective: the first time he came into contact with performing without props, the first time he took on the leading role alone, the first time he acted in an modern drama…
“Where Dreams Begin / The Youth Memories” was a script that Xiao Zhan particularly liked. He liked stories about that generation very much, as a child he watched some television dramas such as “Once Upon a Time in Beijing” and “Happiness as Flowers”. When he mentioned the 1970s and 1980s, he felt that it was sunny and bright, it was colorful. Many people said that Xiao Chunsheng was a perfect character, but to Xiao Zhan that happened to be his greatest flaw, he thought this character was very interesting and wanted to give it a try. Xiao Chunsheng was a young man from Beijing, hence how to express the character’s imposing manner and speak authentic Beijing dialect was a big challenge for Xiao Zhan, who had lived in Chongqing since childhood.
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The Shi Ying character in “The Longest Promise” was aloof, because he did not want to let down everyone’s expectations for his ancient costume appearance, Xiao Zhan tried his best to lose weight before joining the group. “‘The Longest Promise’ was a script I got in 2020. It had the most complete character and most delicate emotions from the scripts I could choose from, it was also very logical and self-consistent, it was my best choice.”
“Sunshine By My Side” was a script that Xiao Zhan has been exposed to for the longest time, starting from the end of 2019. Although Sheng Yang in “Sunshine By My Side” closely overlapped with Xiao Zhan’s pre-debut career, but for him to move his life as a designer to the screen and act in a natural and convincing manner, he did not have confidence. “Modern dramas and life dramas are really unfamiliar fields.” Initially, he was too eager to finish his lines and memorized them completely, but when he said them, it made people think that no one in real life would speak like this, later on he discovered where to break the lines and which words to emphasize in modern dramas, and the logic was actually very strong.
In the past few years, he had acted as a soldier, a doctor, a designer, and a Beijing youth. There were no special considerations, and they all happened naturally. He rarely acted in recurring roles. But when choosing a script, Xiao Zhan would not deliberately avoid themes that he had acted in before, instead he will just put himself in the audience’s perspective to feel whether he could be moved by it.
In 2021, Xiao Zhan starred in the theater play “A Dream Like a Dream”, playing the role of Patient No. 5. On the day of the premiere, many topics related to theater appeared on Weibo hot searches, becoming a phenomenon-level event in the theater circle.
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Silver sequin embellished suit ERL, black wide-leg trousers Heliot Emil, black deconstructed embellished shorts Egonlab
On acting in “A Dream Like A Dream”, Xiao Zhan hesitated for a long time. There are many reasons for his hesitation: he was from Chongqing, he was not from a professional background, there is no NG in theater plays, it would last for 8 hours, “Dream Like a Dream” was also very famous, and there had been many classic versions of Patient No. 5 prior. But after reading the script, Xiao Zhan felt that he must perform in it.
Theater play is a very pure thing. Dozens or even hundreds of people gather in a space to tell a story, this is an experience that film and television cannot bring, hence Xiao Zhan yearns for it. He began to maniacally memorize his lines, and enclosed himself in Tangshan to rehearse intensively with the entire group for more than a month, grinding out one scene after another.
“I was very nervous for the first performance. I am still nervous now when I think about it. When Gu Xianglan rang the bell, I shuddered.” The instant the light hit him, Xiao Zhan felt that everything had stopped, he could not see the expressions of the audience under the stage and there was only white left in front of him.
Xiao Zhan adjusted his breathing and began to speak his lines. The director said that the actors in the opening scene controlled the rhythm of the entire story, so every time he said that line, Xiao Zhan was most nervous. As he spoke, he would gradually forget about his nervousness, and after he was done speaking, he would let out a long sigh of relief, and think, ah, it has finally ended.
Once, towards the end of the first half of the performance, Patient No. 5 went on stage to find Gu Xianglan with a painting and an address, and had a long monologue. Walking to the middle of the stage, Xiao Zhan’s mind suddenly stumbled. He could not remember the beginning of the next line. After hesitating for about 1.5 seconds, he chose to skip that word and continued. The audience should not be able to tell the difference, he thought. He could not remember that word even until the end of the performance.
“I couldn’t remember it even when I got to the lounge, so I flipped over the script to take a look, so it was this word.”
“Which word?”
“A very common word, for example, pure drinking water, I was thinking what kind of drinking water? Distilled water? Tap water? Boiled water? I just couldn’t remember it.” Xiao Zhan replied.
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Acting is a domain with very profound knowledge. Xiao Zhan said: “I have only scratched the surface so far.” When filming “Sunshine By My Side”, the co-actors were all experienced actors, and in terms of acting skills, Xiao Zhan was still very immature, tended to be over forceful and left traces of performance marks. He told himself to “be less pretentious”, feel everything the other party throws at him with his heart, and respond honestly.
Xiao Zhan once expressed that he had difficulty understanding many characters due to his limited life experience. He had discussed this issue with his seniors, “Everyone has two opinions. Some people will say that of course you have to go through it, without experience, you don’t have a image, how can you portray it? All that you act is fake. Also, there is a voice saying that everything can be resolved by technique.”
Xiao Zhan’s own answer is, “Act more and be exposed to all types of genres” and “cooperate with more good teams, actors and directors.”
“To be honest, what I can do now is to act what my thoughts can reach, it is really difficult for me to act something that I have no concept of at all. Maybe in the future, through a work or cooperation with more good directors and actors, my confusion can be solved. I look forward to this day coming soon.“
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Black printed shirt Egonlab
Black jumpsuit Zickness
Savoy clothing bag Gucci
03 Decluttering
Relaxation is a side of Xiao Zhan, he can balance some of the pressure, but there is a part of it that is difficult for him to resolve. Xiao Zhan does not sleep well. “It’s very difficult for me to fall asleep, and I sleep very lightly, there will be situations where I don’t feel rested after sleeping, which affects my state the next day.” This would happen especially when he just joined the drama group and would be in a state of high nervousness, he would often dream about filming on set, but the filming did not go well.
When he would go to different cities, Xiao Zhan would bring the same type of pillows and quilts. “I will bring anything that can help me sleep well.” He had also tried aromatherapy lamps, lavender essential oil, various products that could make him fall asleep when applied on his body, medicinal spray on the pillow that could make people fall asleep, melatonin and meditation music. In the end, he found that the best things that made him sleep well were sleep masks, earplugs, and not looking at his phone, “because I know that once I look at it, I won’t sleep, then I might as well get up.”
Not long ago, Xiao Zhan found an old book “Decluttering” at home. That was recommended to him by his ex-company boss when he was working as a designer. The concept of organizing life described in the book made Xiao Zhan start to rethink what he wanted and what he should give up.
Xiao Zhan has a particularly obstinate side to his character, “If it’s something I insist on and I think that is right, it will be difficult to convince me.” For example, when he decided to be an actor, he did not want to do anything outside of being an actor, “You come and force me, then let’s debate. No one is right or wrong, the team is also doing this for your own good, since isn’t it a good thing to have a lot of work? But for me, I have to subtract because some things are really not what I want.”
Black deconstructed long leather jacket Juun J
Black printed shirt Egonlab
Black jumpsuit Zickness
Savoy clothing bag Gucci
Xiao Zhan’s acting experience began with a story about “an older commoner chasing dreams in the entertainment industry”. He participated in the talent show at the age of 24, learned dance from scratch, debuted as a boy band, acted in online dramas, played supporting roles in theater movies, until 2019 when he became popular, Xiao Zhan also became a star that attracted attention.
When you decide to do something, you must try your best to do it well. This was what Xiao Zhan has been taught since childhood, when he was in junior high school, his family bought him a mobile phone. When he first started texting, he often used spaces to replace punctuation marks, his father then said to him sternly, “What about the punctuation marks? Why is there no period at the end of the sentence?” From that time on, Xiao Zhan was very concerned about punctuation marks.
Xiao Zhan had been competitive since he was a child, and he was not willing to miss any opportunity when it came to things he could control. When he was taking the bus to school, he would worry about the person on the bus who was asleep and would missed the stop.
For things that he could not control, he would remind himself not to force them and learn to accept them. Until then, do what he could.
When asked which drama Xiao Zhan obtained with his own hard work, Xiao Zhan’s answer was surprising. He said: “Every one.” Before becoming famous, he auditioned for many dramas, and also experienced being replaced after entering the final round of auditions and even trialed the drama in costume. Now, of course, scripts would be handed over, but Xiao Zhan would always tell himself that people only had intentions and could hand them over to many people at the same time. If he found one he really liked, he would take the initiative to meet with the director to explain his understanding of the character.
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Black jumpsuit Zickness
Xiao Zhan believes that it is important to have a correct attitude
Xiao Zhan’s growing up environment was no different from that of many born in the 1990s. Mother and father would go to work, grandmother would cook at home, and he would go to and from school every day. If he did not do well in the exam, he would be beaten. After dinner at 6:30 every night, the children would ask him downstairs to play hide-and-seek, wooden figurines, and throw sandbags, as he talked about these, he was very happy. These ordinary little things seemed so precious now. Xiao Zhan said that he was very grateful for the first 23 years of his life before his dream adventure in the entertainment industry. “I cherish it very much, I think it is good.”
He thought that if he had not entered the entertainment industry, he would have lived a life like his classmates and friends, accompanying clients for meals every day, going home and staying up late to catch up on designs.
“Being seen” is a happy thing. No matter how busy he was at work, Xiao Zhan never complained, “If you have a job, then work hard.” “While filming “The Oath of Love”, he was also recording the variety show “Our Song”. During the intervals while waiting for scenes, he would hum softly with his earphones on. The other actors would come over curiously, and Xiao Zhan would smiled sheepishly, explaining that he was practicing the song he was going to sing in the evening. “I don’t have time, I really don’t have time.” At that time, work occupied almost all of his life.
Xiao Zhan rarely takes the initiative to give himself a holiday. “It’s not realistic,” he said flatly. When he was most tired, he could fall asleep just sitting on the set.
This year, Xiao Zhan had a sense of urgency regarding “acting inexperience”, “compared with some seniors, they have already acted in many works in their thirties.” Xiao Zhan knows very clearly that his acting could not improve in leaps and bounds just from one drama, “this might be hard for it to happen to me.”
He once thought about whether to be an actor with a personal style or an actor that the audience would like after watching it. His answer was the latter, “everyone may not be your fan, or even not particularly interested in you, but when you know that he has a drama on and you might want to watch it because his dramas are pretty good. I want to do that, that’s my current goal. Whether or not I can become the level of the actors I like is a long way to go, take it slowly.”
“Making more dramas and cooperating with more good teams, this is just the one goal at the moment, I won’t consider other things for the time being.” Xiao Zhan said.
Black printed shirt Egonlab
Black jumpsuit Zickness
Q&A About Acting
GQ:
When did it become clear that you wanted to be an actor?
Xiao Zhan:
When the public started paying more and more attention to me, I wanted to say, why can’t I do it? I think I can.
Sometimes I waver and feel it’s so difficult. Why can’t I do it? For example, when it comes to lines, why are they just not good? Why can’t I speak as well as the others? Is it because I’m from the South? I don’t think so. Then I think, so how can I speak well? I can do it, give it a try.
GQ:
In your opinion, what are the professional standards for actors?
Xiao Zhan:
First of all, having excellent professional skills is an unavoidable topic. You can have a non-professional background, but you must have excellent professional skills. This is what I want to do and what I’m currently doing. I feel like I’m not enough, too far behind.
After having excellent professional skills, attitude is very important and whether you love it or not is also very important. If you only view it as a job, you may not be able to go very far. But if you really love it, you will cry for it and laugh for it. This may be the motivation for you to persist.
Also having a strong body (laughs), I used to not feel tired when I was in my twenties, but now I will feel very tired after staying up late. This is a terrible thing, it is important to have a strong body, this is your foundation.
GQ:
When acting in which character or drama did you feel recognition for?
Xiao Zhan:
At the beginning, when I was working on “The Wolf”, I was under a lot of pressure, the acting teacher would give me a lot of advice and guidance, and I would constantly subvert my acting method every day, it was a period of confusion. After you got over it, you would find that you have grown, and when you started acting again later, you would gradually find a little bit of feeling, and then you would get over it step by step, this was a cumulative process.
I feel that I have too little acting experience. Compared with some of the seniors, who have accumulated many works in their thirties, my current works are still too few and I have not accumulated enough.
Black printed shirt Egonlab
Black jumpsuit Zickness
Black printed shirt Egonlab
Black jumpsuit Zickness
GQ:
Do you feel worried?
Xiao Zhan:
Yes. Because I think (improving acting skills) is a cumulative process. You can’t take a big step with just one movie. This is hard for that to happen to me, so I have to keep filming, and to keep filming good dramas, don’t waste yourself
GQ:
The 3 dramas broadcasted in 2023 stretched from ancient costume to era dramas and urban dramas, what were the considerations?
Xiao Zhan:
Actually, there were no considerations, it just happened naturally, there were no deliberate avoidance of themes I had acted in before, it’s just (selection) by reading the script. When the scripts were handed to me at that time, I felt attracted to a certain script at the moment, so I chose it, it just happened to be a theme that I had never acted in before.
GQ:
Do you feel tired from acting in ancient costume dramas all the time?
Xiao Zhan:
There are many types of ancient costume dramas, don’t have to separate them into ancient costume dramas and modern dramas, it’s nothing more than sticking on a wig and changing clothes, actually the core is the same, but the outer shell is different.
GQ:
Once the drama you filmed airs, will you follow it?
Xiao Zhan:
I won’t follow them, but I will watch them, I will choose the big scenes that I care about and watch them, counts as me looking for problems for myself.
GQ:
Will you watch with the scrolling comments?
Xiao Zhan:
I used to do it really, and I felt very entertained, laughing and joking with everyone, but now I won’t do it.
White backless suit with fringe Jacquemus
GQ:
What kind of character do you want to play now?
Xiao Zhan:
If I could choose, the best would be the ones I haven’t tried before. I need freshness. If I ask you to do the same thing every day, you will be bored.
GQ:
What kind of actor do you want to be?
Xiao Zhan:
I want to be an actor that the audience can like.
GQ:
Have you not already done this to make people like you?
Xiao Zhan:
No, no, I think it’s far from enough. I once thought about whether to be an actor with a personal style or to be an actor that the audience likes just by looking at you. Currently I want to be an actor who makes the audience feel good. Everyone may not be your fan, or even not particularly interested in you, but when you know that he has a drama on and you might want to watch it because his dramas are pretty good. I want to do that, that’s my current goal. Whether or not I can become the level of the actors I like is a long way to go, take it slowly.
GQ:
Who are your favorite actors?
Xiao Zhan:
Many, for example Zhou Xun has always been my favorite actress. I recently watched her movie (“Across the Furious Sea”) and it was really great.
GQ:
What are your career plans in 2024?
Xiao Zhan:
Making more dramas and cooperating with more good teams, this is just the one goal at the moment, I won’t consider other things for the time being.
White backless suit with fringe Jacquemus
Q&A About Life
GQ:
Do voices on social media bother you?
Xiao Zhan:
It doesn’t bother me. After all these years, can I still live if I’m still bothered? (laughs) It’s really just fine. It’s fine as long as I am clear about what I am doing. Every time you make a choice, you must clearly know what you are doing, what you have to give up, and what you have to do. So, it’s fine, maybe the team has more troubles.
GQ:
Is your personal life unaffected?
Xiao Zhan:
Very normal! I can go out for a bike ride and a stroll. When you’re walking down the street, no one really cares about you. It’s really not what everyone imagines. Then I walked around freely.
GQ:
Are those escape moments for you?
Xiao Zhan:
Moments of relaxation. Why do I need to escape? I am also in the third dimension, where should I escape to, this is my life, I am the same as everyone. There are many things I particularly want to do, such as squeezing onto the subway and shopping in shopping malls, which are very similar to when I was in school, and maybe I will do them in the future.
GQ:
Do you miss the ordinary life very much?
Xiao Zhan:
It’s not that I miss it, it’s that I think I should do it, this is living. I will really take squeeze into the subway, perhaps tomorrow, it’s so normal, I used to take the subway every day. To me, there’s nothing I can’t do, so what if you discover me? Say hello and leave. It’s just that I don’t want to cause confusion, trouble, or bad reactions to everyone.
White backless suit with fringe Jacquemus
Q&A About Personality
GQ:
You haven’t appeared on variety shows in recent years. Is this a conscious choice?
Xiao Zhan:
Because it’s not suitable, with my personality, being in a variety show is too tiring, I would want to take care of everyone’s feelings, which would make myself very tired. Since I know that it would be this result, then I might as well don’t do it.
GQ:
What was your original intention in entering the entertainment industry?
Xiao Zhan:
I really broke in mysteriously with confusion. The talent shows I used to watch would interview the top contestants, how did you get to this point? The contestant would say that I accompanied my friend to participate in the selection, but my friend failed and I was selected. When I was a child, I thought these things were far away from me, but when it came to myself, it’s really like this, and I think it’s amazing. I entered the idol competition, then I got here and that’s it. Very amazing, life is very interesting.
GQ:
What things have you not thought of before after joining the industry?
Xiao Zhan:
It is a very cruel thing to not be able to to eat freely. When I see my former high school classmates who already have children and have put on some weight, I will sigh, I also want to eat freely like this. Their living status makes me feel that if I had not chosen this path at that time, maybe we would all be the same, we have to socialize and stay up late to catch up on designs, you don’t know how tiring it is to do design, but life is like this and there is no other way.
Dark red blazer Gucci
GQ:
How has choosing this path changed you?
Xiao Zhan:
Maybe I lack a lot of life experiences, in this regard, my classmates and friends are far better than me. They have experienced real things. There are no cameras facing you, no lights, you are living your own real life.
GQ:
Are you an emotionally stable person?
Xiao Zhan:
Comparatively, more, stable. But once it hits some points, I will become very unstable.
GQ:
For example?
Xiao Zhan:
Just… some things that cannot be said, haha. Maybe when something incredulous happens, you will think, what are you doing, or, when something happens that normal people would not do, I will become very angry. Maybe it’s some privacy issue, if this point is breached, I will go “berserk”. Everyone has their own boundaries, and some people have no sense of proportion, I will just stay away from these kind of people. But when the boundaries are broken again and again and the bottom line is touched, I will get very angry.
Dark red suit jacket and trousers both Gucci
GQ:
You once said that you have a particularly tenacious side to your personality. What do you mean specifically?
Xiao Zhan:
Principles, I am a very obstinate person, if it’s something I insist on and I think that is right, it will be difficult to convince me.
For example, if I want to be an actor and I don’t want to do anything other than being an actor, if you come and force me, then let’s debate. No one is right or wrong, the team is also doing this for your own good, since isn’t it a good thing to have a lot of work? But for me, I have to subtract because some things are really not what I want.
GQ:
Do you have a perfectionist side?
Xiao Zhan:
I just want to do it well, and do my best in the current moment. Maybe the result is not good, but what can I do, this is all I can do.
GQ:
Can you accept failure?
Xiao Zhan:
I can accept. I might not have been able to accept it a few years ago, but 32-year-old Xiao Zhan has learned to accept this (laughs).
White backless suit with fringe, white leather loafers, both Jacquemus
Black suit trousers Bianca Saunders
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Open up
Based on this wonderful art of @puppetmaster13u for the dollhouse au!
It had been a long day, and was destined to be even longer.
The original plan had been bad enough; the league had a media conference planned for three o'clock, one that involved foreign presence and thus required pristine presentation.
Then, as all perfectly good plans that could have been left alone by the universe did, it was derailed by a villain attack or several. He said several because it seemed almost a dozen separate villains had individually had the bright idea of sabotaging the well publicised event. Though they'd failed, the accidental collaboration had done what each alone could not, and now the league was dragging themselves to base to hurriedly patch up the thankfully minor wounds and try and rush to meet the deadline.
Each league member on the list had a formal version of their usual super suit - flash's main change had been a bowtie before it met almost unanimous disapproval, and on the other end of the effort spectrum was Bruce. Not of his own will - he quite envied Flash's staunch faith in the single black bowtie - but he not only had been raised for the fast and critical world of the upper class, but was currently in a metal plated marionette held together by glue and screws and wires, which meant changing attire was more of a debacle than it would ordinarily be.
He flipped open the toolkit with the best approximation of a sigh the doll body could manage. The chest inflated and deflated, which was in fact a rather worrying sign because it wasn't supposed to be able to do that. He grabbed a screwdriver and a pit of tar glue and approached the mirror. He'd just have to go into the globally broadcast meeting stinking of sulphur... Perhaps he could borrow perfume from one of the girls, cologne combined dreadfully.
The chest cavity opened with little tugging, and he held one side in place as he attacked the bent hinges. An odd feeling, for sure. He took a hammer to the dent, imagining it was the penguin's face and praying Clark didn't decide now was the time to approach him on his self soothing metalworking hobby. He'd been entrusted with the override code for the door and Bruce was now quietly regretting that.
The chest cavity doors creaked back into place, which enabled him to finally pull out the costume change for the evening and dump it on the side.
Now for the leg, having been crushed under a tank penguin had smuggled into Gotham. It now bent the wrong way, and hiding it under his cloak had been a pain, but at least it hadn't come off -
There it went. Batman watched, almost despondent, as it toppled free of his body and crashed to the ground. The unhappy static that raced up his spine at the sight was expected - he'd be paying for the lack of care for the Patriarch Doll in nightmares tonight.
Joy.
He tipped into the nearby stool and kicked the lost limb closer with his remaining foot, squinting. Just a cracked screw and torn spring at the knee, thank goodness. He'd have it fully attached again within the hour.
But he was pretty sure he couldn't bend that far over without his jaw falling off, so face it was.
Hood off, wires unlaced under the chin, hidden screws loosened. The gas mask came off. The velcro on top of his head took good old fashioned yanking, but eventually peeled off with reluctant crackling, revealing the unpainted grey metal beneath.
As expected, his jaw was almost entirely loose, unable to close now without the structure of the mask. The nutcracker mouth in the lower jaw fell to tap against his throat, leaving either side of the actual lower jaw to hang in the air. Experimentally, he opened and closed his mouth, and watched all three parts swing and clink like a robot body horror wind-chime.
This was going to need a finer touch, and so he stripped off his gloves to access the sharp points of his talons - capped while with the league to keep the prick of steel rending claws to a mere suggestion.
He felt bared, now, all his top layer removed and abandoned, the door to his room at his back. He feels the paranoia to double check the lock, reassures himself that even if he'd somehow forgotten in his haste to hide away none of the members were mad enough to try and get in. Outside Superman, of course, but he always knocked.
Still, he hurried through repairs, running diagnostics in the back of his mind as he daubed glue into the cracks and set about restructuring his own jaw. Ears swivelled. Neck rolled. Glider snaps curled.
The jaw pieces were setting nicely when there was a noise at the door, and batman whipped around, cloak flaring behind him. The pliers dropped from suddenly weak fingers.
Captain marvel stood in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the room, face pale as he saw Batman propped up in middle, bare of his many obfuscating layers. Black tar speckled his lap, wires hung free like veins, blank eyes glowed, his jaw gaping, skinless. Glinting claws and spikes in full view, a limb discarded on the floor like garbage. His chest a dark hole, void of organs, of machinery, of anything that could make him run. A decades old terror gripped his heart.
HE SAW!
Both froze. Time stretched interminably.
The captains chest heaved for a scream, and batman was moving before he knew it, grabbing his fallen leg and lunging.
Captain marvel fell with a crack. Batman caught himself on the door. Five seconds before short term memory entered long term, had he reacted in time?
Hm.
He considered the body of the champion of magic laid in front of him, idly rebalancing the eternal tally graph of potential energies the dolls might run on in the back of his head and as always coming up none the wiser. This was a very inconvenient place for a body. Perhaps he could nudge marvel into the hallway to wake up. He glanced up and down the empty corridor, staying out of view of the camera.
Maybe he had overreacted slightly.
Bonus:
Billy and Green Lantern sat in the monitor room, ostensibly on duty but really checking out the watchtower camera feeds of the day before. Lantern was pointing at the screen.
"Here," he said, with a glee Billy didn't honestly appreciate. "Look at that. You go down like a sack of bricks and then -" he clicked forward two frames, "- this silver hand thing appears on the door frame. Look at that, that's a proper horror movie hand curl. The claws! Just missing the glint of a blood covered axe appearing from the shadows."
Billy shuddered, but couldn't help moving closer.
"What do you think it was? Can't have been batman, right?"
"You were there, you tell me." Lantern patted him on the shoulder before he could retort. "I mean, doesn't look much like him. Doesn't really have claws and his are black anyway. Pretty sure his gloves are sewn into his skin at this point."
"I didn't need that mental image," Billy said, because he really didn't.
"Could be another Robin variant? Like that black bat thing?"
"Dunno. I mean, unlikely. Maybe it was batman. Maybe he can shapeshift a little."
"We've had that on the list of possible powers for ages, still nothing firm one way or the other."
"It probably is batman -"
"But the claws -"
They trailed off.
"We'll just add it to the list. I'll save the file, hang on. We can talk about it at the do next week - you're coming right?"
"Yeah, but I've got, uh... A diplomacy thing with the yetis at nine, so I'll have to bail then."
"You always have the weirdest personal missions. Hey, maybe you can ask them about batman, pffft. Maybe he's one of them."
#Not pictured: batman in Victorian-esque drip complete with a black full face phantom of the opera mask in a brightly lit room.#Bundled up in as much cloak is polite and just a dark splotch on camera between a very bright superman and wonder woman#Alfred sarcastically pretends to shed a tear of pride#Also not pictured: batman spending five minutes straight making sure his doors locked while on one leg#long post#batman#dc comics#bruce wayne#cryptid batman#Possessed doll au#Remind me to do a Halloween one because the bats would 100% do a scare competition with the poor goons as targets#Bonus points if you freak out a rouge. It gets harder every year.#Pretty happy with how this turned out but my first plan was to have it the start of the Reveal™. The vibes were right.#Maybe once I've got more done for this au
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It's here! I don't have a name for these series of connected prompts just yet but I'm sure I'll think of one! I was originally going to write the characters doing more in this chapter but it didn't work out. Still, I'm happy with this narrative I'm creating. By the way, I am planning on posting this to AO3 like all my other works if you want to check it out!
@owl-bones Please let me know if you don't want me to tag you for each prompt. Thanks for making the list!
Next Day.
Bad Sansuary: Horror - Hot Drinks
Word Count: 2,914
It was a dreary day today, yet despite the overcast sky and brisk breeze that often whipped snow into your face, it was the nicest it had been in days. You'd practically gone stir crazy after a freak snow storm had blown in several days ago and so now you were getting some much needed fresh air.
It had been an incredibly spontaneous decision to come out to this barely traveled trail. You'd been meaning to check out the area for ages but had been too busy in the fall. While your winter gear was generally enough to keep you warm on most days, it seemed like you should've worn an extra layer or two with how chilly it was out here in the woods in comparison to the city.
Regardless, you were moving at a steady enough pace to keep your blood pumping. So long as you weren't out here for longer than a few hours and got home before it got dark, you should be alright.
The walk had been every bit as beautiful as you'd expected it to be. While the forest was mostly made up of deciduous trees, you were now walking through a large grove of mature cedar trees, which just so happened to be your favorite type of conifers. The dense shrubbery served to insulate this part of the trail from both the wind and the sounds of the wild, not to mention that they smelled lovely as well.
The path made a sharp turn to the left up ahead, although right in front of you was a natural gap in the treeline, possibly made by animals as they passed through this grove. Feeling a tad curious, you ducked under the branches and emerged in a small clearing on the other side.
The clearing seemed to be natural as you couldn't see any signs of tree cutting, even with all the snow. It was framed on all sides by cedar trees whose boughs were blanketed in a thick layer of the white powder. It was strange though. You couldn't see anything that looked special about this little clearing and yet it was so peaceful here.
You'd only walked a few paces into the open space when you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
Something was very wrong.
Some sort of primal instinct deep inside your soul screamed for you to duck and your body responded without even thinking about it.
You heard the unmistakable sound of an object whizzing through the air where you'd been standing moments prior.
You barely had time to register what happened before someone roughly grasped your shoulder and flung you into the snow.
You landed hard on your right side. The cold snow stung your face. There was pressure on your abdomen.
It took a moment for you to catch your breath. When you did though, you shifted slightly to see what had just attacked you, but as soon as you did so, the pressure on your side increased sharply.
A low rumbling growl was the only warning you got to stay put.
Now your mind was racing. This wasn't a random animal and no human could possibly sound like that. So could it be a monster? They'd been on the surface for a couple years now and were pretty commonplace in the city. In fact, you didn't know of any that would willingly choose to live out in the middle of nowhere after being trapped underground for centuries.
"Uh... H-hey, can...can we talk about this...?" Your voice came out much hoarser than you'd expected it to but you didn't know what else you could do right now.
Nothing happened for what felt like ages. You continued to stay as still as you possibly could, save for the pounding of your heart and how badly you were trembling. The snow was cold and your clothes were rapidly becoming soaked, but you barely registered it.
Your attacker suddenly shifted their body and the pressure on your abdomen eased, although it didn't go away entirely.
You chanced turning your head in their direction this time, rather than trying to move your entire body.
Your gaze immediately locked onto a singular glowing red eyelight. It belonged to a hulking figure of a skeleton monster who was currently pinning you to the ground. The eyelight itself took up almost the entirety of his socket and there was a thin line through the center, likely acting as a pupil. The only other details you could make out from this angle was that he was breathing rather heavily and he had a large hole on the top of the left side of his skull.
You didn't dare break eye contact for fear the monster would lash out suddenly if you did so. Whether it was how blown out his single pinprick looked or the tight smile that seemed much too wide for the current situation, but you could tell something was very wrong him right now.
Taking a shaky breath, you tried to speak to the skeleton again. "H-hey... Big guy... Are you...? Is something wrong?" you asked. Although to your frustration, your tongue betrayed how nervous you really were right now.
He said nothing and just continued to stare down at you, or maybe through you was more accurate. If looks could kill, you'd be dead at least a hundred times over.
For whatever reason, he wasn't actively restraining your arms, just preventing you from getting up. So against your better judgement, you slowly raised your left hand and reached for his face. Although you quickly discovered he was at least several inches out of range and you couldn't actually touch him.
His eyelight tracked your movements and seemed to focus on your outstretched fingers. He still said nothing though and just sat in silence.
"It's okay... Did I startle you earlier?" Your voice was becoming stronger the more you spoke and while you were still rather nervous, you were feeling a bit more confident than before.
He seemed to be acting pretty distant. The lights were on, pun unintended, but nobody was home. So what had stopped him from actually hurting you earlier? The only thing you could think of was when you tried to talk to him and since it seemed to be having a positive effect, you decided to keep doing that.
"Hey... Um, you scared me pretty bad, you know...?" No response. "But it's okay! I'm... I'm not mad or anything..."
People said you tended to ramble when nervous but you'd never believed them until now. Not that you'd been in many life or death situations before now to know, or at least none where talking your way out had been an option.
"Okay... I'm not going to hurt you, but... I'm going to try doing something." With a nervous chuckle, you added, "Just...don't take my hand off, okay...?"
You waited a moment to see if he'd try to respond but shocker, he still didn't react. So against your better judgement, you attempted to sit up so you could reach him. You moved slowly while keeping a close eye on him, but thankfully, he didn't show any signs of further aggression.
He startled when your mittened hand met the right side of his face. His red eyelight wobbled and flicked between your outstretched hand and your face. The corners of his painfully wide smile fell a fraction as he seemed to properly take in the current situation.
"Ah, that's better," you murmured. "You seemed far away so I was wondering if you could actually hear me. Are you...? Are you okay?"
He said nothing and continued to stare at you. Then his gaze flicked back to your hand and his bonebrows furrowed slightly. Before you could protest, he grasped your wrist and with some hesitation, jerked it away.
Crap... His hand is like twice the size of mine.
He let go of you and managed to stand up, staggering away from you. Complete shock was practically written across his skull and you could see how desperately his mind was scrambling to make sense of this awkward situation.
Although your muscles were a bit numb from the cold, you slowly crawled to your feet and attempted to dust yourself off. Although the snow had completely soaked through your pants and coat so your efforts were futile.
"..."
The mysterious skeleton muttered something that was so quiet, you almost didn't realize he'd said anything in the first place.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that..."
He blinked, somehow, and actually made eye contact with you this time before trying again. "...sorry..."
His tone was about as deep as you'd expected a guy of his size to sound, although it was also rather subdued. You couldn't be sure if that was just how he spoke or if he was feeling ashamed about what had just happened.
Speaking of his height though, this monster was much taller than you'd initially thought. He was easily more than a foot taller than you were, even with the way he was purposely hunching his shoulders. Was he trying to make himself look smaller?
"It's alright, you didn't actually hurt me," you responded.
He gave you a strange look but didn't say anything else, instead he started looking around in the snow.
Feeling rather awkward, you chewed your lower lip and kicked a small clump of snow. He didn't seem like much of a conversationalist and you didn't blame him right now.
After a moment of searching, he seemed to find what he'd been looking for a couple paces ahead and to the left of where you were currently standing - a large axe with a rather sharp blade. The way it was stuck in the snow suggested he'd actually hurled it at you and the thought of how close your brush with death had really been, sent chills down your spine.
But, if he had intended to kill you from the beginning, how come he'd hesitated to follow through?
You watched as he hefted the axe onto his shoulder with minimal effort. There was one more question on your mind now though.
Who was he?
Taking a step forward, you cleared your throat to get his attention. "Do you need me to call someone?"
He straightened up a bit more but remained facing away from you. "...no."
You frowned and pressed again, "Then...do you live nearby? Do you need help getting home?"
"...no," he responded in that same quiet tone. He turned to look at you again but this time his expression seemed more perplexed than anything.
You didn't know what to say next. You wanted to do something, anything, to help him, but he'd denied each of your attempts to do so. You couldn't just walk away now, not when he was so clearly struggling with something.
"what's with you?"
His question was a bit surprising and it took a second for you to come up with an answer. "You're hurting... I just want to make sure you'll be okay..."
He threw his skull back and laughed. It was a slow, bitter sounding laugh that nearly broke your heart to hear. After what felt like several long minutes, his laughter finally calmed down and he fixed you with a scrutinizing look once again.
"i just about killed ya."
You nodded solemnly, "But you didn't..."
He cut you off with a harsh glare. "and you're incredibly lucky right now..." he growled. "...i'm a dangerous person and you're pretty foolish for stickin' around this long."
You crossed your arms in annoyance. "Yeah, I guess I am foolish..." you huffed. "I don't know how to leave people be, I'm too nice for my own good, and I can't say no to people even if I really don't want to do what they ask me to. So yeah, I know I'm foolish!"
He raised a bonebrow as your voice got louder and louder but let you keep ranting until you'd gotten everything out. Running his free hand over his skull, he chuckled quietly. "wow...sounds like you've had a lot of experience, huh?"
"No kidding..." you muttered.
His footsteps crunched through the snow as he moved closer and you looked up at him again when he stopped about a foot away. He seemed to size you up for a moment before his permanent grin widened slightly.
"you're a funny human..."
You balked and took a step back. "Wha...? What's that supposed to mean?" you stammered.
He chuckled again and placed his free hand on your left shoulder. His touch was much gentler this time, even with the tips of his phalanges being rather sharp like claws.
"just that. ya got spunk to look at a guy like me an' think 'i can help him'." He hummed thoughtfully and then asked, "so how'd ya do it?"
"Do what?"
"shake me out of it..." He trailed off and a confused frown flickered across his face for a moment. "you were talkin' but i don't remember what you said until you touched me..."
"I don't understand. I didn't do anything more than that though. I just... You seemed...like you were somewhere else and not fully aware of what was happening? I guess I thought that maybe physical contact might help?"
"huh, interestin'..." he murmured thoughtfully. "so you've never heard of intent?"
You frowned slightly. The way he'd specifically put emphasis on that word made you think it meant something different than what you'd initially thought. "I can't say I have," you said with a shrug.
He started to respond when a sudden gust of wind blew through the small clearing and caused you to shudder as the cold air went right through your soaked clothing. You clutched your coat closer and stamped your feet in an effort to warm up.
Changing the subject, he made a quiet tisk sound and commented, "you'll catch your death if ya stay out here much longer, human."
A little voice in the back of your head wanted to retort that you wouldn't be this cold if it weren't for him, but that would be cruel, so you didn't. Instead, you gave a little laugh and tried to smile, but it wasn't exactly easy with how badly your teeth were chattering.
"Um, my car's not that far from here and before I left the house this morning I made a thermos of hot coffee... If you'd like some...?"
He laughed, much more genuinely this time by the way, and shook his skull. "crazy human... do ya have no self-preservation instincts or somethin' ?" he asked in a tone that practically screamed "ya can't be serious?".
You nodded, "Compared to some men I've met, you've been downright pleasant to make conversation with." Turning to head back to the trail, you added, "It's probably a good thing you took me by surprise though, because I definitely would've tried to fight you if I'd seen you coming."
"you'd definitely be dead then," he muttered bitterly.
You chose not to continue this morbid train of thought and walked on in silence. It was a bit surprising that he'd decided to actually take you up on your offer, considering he'd rejected every other one, but you didn't mind in the slightest.
After a few minutes of travel, you asked, "Do you have a name?"
He made a low humming sound before answering. "axe..." He grinned when you shot him a confused look and nodded his skull towards the weapon he had slung over his shoulder.
"I see... It's kind of...fitting? If I can say that?"
"mhm. what about you?"
"Oh! How rude of me... It's..." you gave him your name, "Sorry, I guess I completely forgot my manners in the heat of the moment..." You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly.
Axe repeated your name out loud a few times like he was trying to commit it to memory. You paid him no mind as you knew all too well how annoying it was to forget someone's name. You didn't think you'd ever forget his though, not with how crazy today had been.
You caught him typing something into his phone out of the corner of your eye before he slipped it back into the pocket of his shorts again. He really hadn't needed to borrow your phone afterall it seemed.
"i am sorry for scarin' ya that badly...and for nearly killin' ya too," Axe muttered. He looked rather sheepish all of the sudden, like his previous apology wasn't nearly good enough now that you'd talked a little.
You waved him off and smiled warmly. "Hey, it's fine now. I'm not mad at you for something you couldn't help."
"i'm surprised you're not askin' more questions about me or why that happened in the first place..."
"Do you want to tell me?"
He shook his skull silently and glanced away.
"That's fine then... If you're gonna be okay now, then that's all I care about."
You hummed happily as your little car came into view at the side of the road where you'd parked it earlier. That coffee sounded absolutely divine right about now and you were so glad you'd decided to make it. Thank your lucky stars you'd thought ahead today.
Your companion had grown rather silent all of the sudden and when you glanced at him, you saw his bonebrows seemed to be knit together in deep thought. While you definitely were curious about him and where he came from, you didn't want to pry into something that wasn't your business.
Besides, the less you knew, the better...
#badsansuary#raccoons drabbles#undertale#horrortale#horrortale sans#axe#horror sans x reader#reader#female reader#probably...it won't come up much#oneshot#have some empathy dear
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His Inheritance ~ Chapter 28
Part 28: Fatal Trespasses
Series Masterlist
Words: 6.7k
Pairing: Mobster Steve Rogers x Mobster daughter reader
Warnings: References to mob crime families, strong language, physical violence, character death. This is a dark fic. Please read responsibly.
Disclaimer: The author of this work claims no ownership of characters aside from the reader, and original secondary characters mentioned. This work is not intended for those under the age of 18 due to explicit sexual content and darker themes. By reading this work or any works on my blog (jtargaryen18), you agree that you are at least 18 years of age. I do not consent to have my work hosted on any third party app or site. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but archiveofourown and tumblr, it has been reposted without my permission.
Summary: For @alexakeyloveloki. Your father is the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Boston but he’s protected you from that life. In your quiet home outside the city, you’ve been cared for and protected. When the desires of a more powerful man with the will to dominate bursts into your life, all your illusions are shattered as he comes to claim what is his.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Clint paused to see Belova’s number on his phone, especially since Steve tossed her out. He understood why his boss did it, he just didn’t entirely agree with it. Belova was young, but she had a lot of potential. She was strong and loyal. Clint had no reason not to trust her.
That, more than anything, had him answering the call.
“Belova?”
“I’ve got a location on Banner,” she said.
That got his interest. “Where?”
Belova gave him the address, an apartment over a dive bar on Stark’s turf. He knew the place.
Neal’s words about Belova falling into enemy hands crossed his mind.
“How do I know you’re not walking me into a trap?” he had to ask.
“I may not be working for the Rogers family at the moment,” she said. “But I still serve Mrs. Rogers. She would want me to relay this information.”
“Yeah, she would,” Clint said. Mrs. Rogers trusted her and considering how she’d supported him and Nat, well, that meant something to him.
“There’s more on Banner,” she went on quickly. “It will be sent to you from an unknown number when this call ends. I hope you’ll find it helpful.”
Clint did too. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too,” she said, ending the call.
Sure enough, the text came through a few seconds later. The attachment didn’t have much to offer about Bruce Banner. But his Senator brother? Clint had to read over it again to make sure he read it correctly. If what he was reading got out, the scandal would ruin the entire Banner family.
How the hell did Belova pull it off?
He and Scott were supposed to carry out their part of the boss’s plan tonight, around midnight. Clint had almost six hours to kill before getting ready for that. Did he trust Belova? Would he find Banner if he went to that address?
Anger for every bruise, every cut on Nat’s body rushed to the surface as he considered the intel he’d just been given. His Nat would need weeks to physically heal from the beating she’d taken at the hands of her husband. The fear she’d experienced in the trap of her marriage would take a lot longer to recover from if she ever did.
Guilt clawed at him from the inside, like an old, wounded beast. He could have put a stop to it. He could have taken her and run. He would have betrayed his loyalty to her brother, his boss. But maybe they’d be somewhere safe right now. Maybe she wouldn’t have terrible nightmares and shadows behind her eyes.
Maybe Steve would have killed them.
No, Clint told her over and over that he loved her. That one day, maybe Steve would change his mind and they could be together as they were always meant to be. And that day finally came. Neither of them dared to ask for more. Steve allowing them to be together was more than they could have hoped for.
But Nat had taken a severe beating to get them to that point. And Steve still wouldn’t have gone to check on her if hadn’t been for his wife’s insistence. Not with everything going on all around them.
He would have given anything to take that beating for Nat. He’d felt so helpless that day when they found her like that in her husband’s house, broken and small. Yet again, Clint had been forced to contain the rage he hadn’t been allowed to express or act on. It had been one of the hardest things he’d done in his whole damn life. And he’d been recovering from getting shot on top of it.
But now, just maybe Belova had given him something he desperately wanted – a chance at some payback.
Steve? Well, Steve warned Banner that he needed to disappear. That the man only made it as far as Stark territory was surely not what the boss had in mind.
Banner never paid any attention to the soldiers outside his house. He took them for granted. Setting up a diversion for the armed guards staying with Banner was just too easy. Within an hour, Clint had Banner delivered to the old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. They often used it for such special occasions.
Slumped in the wooden chair with his hands bound in front of him and a sack over his head, Banner just sat, waiting. Clint would have had him tied to that chair but his arms, shown off by the dirty white t-shirt he wore, showed layers of bruises. They looked as bad as those on the woman he loved.
Clint smiled. It was the least of what the fucker deserved.
When the sack was pulled from his head, Banner’s gaze wildly scanned the room. When he spotted Clint, outrage blended with fear to find himself at the mercy of his wife’s lover.
“What the fuck is this?” Banner asked. His lower lip was cut, a dark ugly scab at its center. One of his eyes was blackened. “Steve and I had a deal.”
“Sure you did,” Clint told him. “You either disappear or you would disappear. But holing up on Stark turf? That’s not really disappearing, is it?”
“And you’re doing this to prove what?” Banner asked, eyeing him warily.
“Got nothing to prove,” Clint told him, taking a step closer.
Banner’s dark eyes hardened in anger. “Don’t you?”
Clint watched the anger that Nat described so many times about darken his face. Banner always seemed so calm, collected whenever Clint observed him during business transactions for the family.
When the two men crossed paths, the anger Clint held in check was always close to the surface. Banner was married to the woman he loved, and the man’s entitlement and contempt made Clint sick inside, like poison. Banner had Steve fooled, painting Nat as pampered but unstable and dramatic. Banner had to know Nat was with him every opportunity they had – and there were precious few times. Bitterness that he could never make Nat love him drove Banner to abuse her, verbally and mentally.
That was bad enough. When Nat learned she was pregnant, Clint came so close to getting her to run away with him. She thought about it. One tearful night, she told him she would. That was the night of the horrible fight Banner had with Nat. The one where Nat was left broken at the foot of the stairs.
She lost the baby. His baby, not Banner’s. That loss haunted her, and she blamed herself. For him, that loss was a wound that never healed, a hole in his heart.
Clint waited, not willing to let the lawyer draw him into a debate. It wasn’t easy.
After a moment, Banner chuckled, shaking his head though Clint could tell the effort physically hurt him.
“Steve’s got his sister back home now,” Banner taunted him. “He’ll even let you take care of her like the good dog you are. But he’s never going to give her to you. Not even now. Not while he can marry her off to benefit the family. You are stupid if you believe that.”
Clint had to give the bastard credit. He always knew the worst thing to hit someone with, how to strike at their deepest fears. He was a fucking lawyer. He’d been doing it to Nat their entire marriage. On nights when Clint was out there in the night, waiting to do Steve’s bidding, he’d reflect on the stories she told him. On the cutting things her husband would say to her.
Clint shrugged. He wasn’t about to play the game.
“Sounds like he already has someone in mind,” Clint lied casually. “Yeah, she needs to heal up. She looks worse than you do. But once she’s on the mend, I imagine Steve will marry her off again.”
The smirk on the other man’s mouth faded. Banner hadn’t expected him to say that.
“What?” was all Banner could say.
Clint folded his arms across his chest, standing over the bastard. “Steve can’t have Nat in his house for long. Not with his own little wife. It’s not an ideal situation. I’m sure you understand.”
Banner’s snort was an ugly sound. “Steve can’t handle his wife. If he knew how to deal with her, we wouldn’t be here, now would we?”
“Sounds like you’re blaming all this on Mrs. Rogers,” Clint pointed out.
“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Banner demanded. “Steve doesn’t usually make time to do welfare checks on his sister. He could handle women just like I handled his sister. Until he married her. I showed up at his house and that little bitch met me at the door. I knew it was her that sent him to my house. She wasn’t even trying to hide it.”
“Then you get why Steve can’t let Nat linger.” Clint tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, to sound like he didn’t care.
Banner’s mind looked to be going a mile a minute. Anger flashed in those dark eyes as he studied Clint hard.
“I hope she gets what she deserves,” Banner’s tone took on a hint of bitterness. “Honestly, Nat played you and me both. She didn’t love either one of us… Ungrateful bitch.”
Clint’s fist flew before his mind could override it, striking Banner’s unbruised eye. Banner somehow managed to stay in the chair, a grin on his face when he returned his gaze to his rival.
“I knew you were full of shit,” Banner called him out.
“I’m full of shit?” Clint demanded. “I’m not the one that’s cast out, am I?”
“I served Steve well,” Banner shot back. “He couldn’t have had a better consigliere and he made a mistake. A huge mistake.”
Clint didn’t like the way he said that with a sly grin playing along his split lip.
“Now he’s got another consigliere,” Clint pointed out. “He’ll be fine.”
Banner dropped his head, shaking it in frustration. What was he not saying? That Banner was still bitter about how his marriage ended? That was obvious. But somehow, he didn’t think that Nat was the sole issue here. Why had Banner still stayed close by?
“Something else you wanted to say?” Clint asked meaningfully.
It pissed him off that Banner was now trying to ignore him. It had always pissed him off that Banner considered himself better than Clint. But that was nothing compared to how he’d treated Nat, the woman he knew Clint would die for.
Anger rose as Clint grabbed a fistful of Banner’s hair and yanked his head back sharply, making the man look at him. And Banner did look him in the eye, pure defiance flashing in those cold depths. But he wasn’t saying anything.
With his left fist, he punched Banner in the nose. The second time he felt the cartilage give beneath his knuckles. Blood gushed from the man’s nose, but he stoically kept silent. Clint struck his chin, his injured eye. Banner muffled his cries of pain, fighting to be silent.
The glee Clint expected to feel at such a moment just wasn’t there. Banner wasn’t begging him for mercy. He wasn’t cowering as Clint imagined he would. That meant the fucker had some hope he was hanging onto. He thought about Banner’s senator brother.
“Counting on your brother to save you?” Clint asked, smirking. “I wouldn’t count on that.”
Clint released his hair. Banner held Clint’s gaze. “Yeah?”
The bastard didn’t look concerned. Yet.
“Yeah,” Clint said. “He’s going to go through some things.”
Banner looked only mildly concerned. “Is he?”
Pissed off, Clint leaned down to get in his face. “You’re not worried about that girl that died on your brother’s boat last summer?”
Banner rolled his eyes. “Why should I be?”
“Someone out there knows her death wasn’t an accident,” Clint informed him. “And they have proof.”
Of all the things he expected the fucker to do, laughing wasn’t one of them. It irked Clint so fucking much, he reared back and punched Banner again, the blow knocking him off the chair. Banner was still laughing.
Trying not to let frustration best him, Clint turned back to one of the two men he brought with him, silently watching from behind him. “Give me those pliers.”
Clint didn’t take his eyes off Banner, gripping the metal tool once it was placed in his hand. The man trying pull himself off the floor with his hands bound before him did look less amused. His dark eyes were on the pliers Clint held.
Wait. Banner wasn’t worried at all about his brother’s scandal, the only reason Steven didn’t make him dead for what he did to Nat. But he was worried about the pliers.
“Put his ass back in the chair,” Clint told his men. He watched as they rushed over to Banner and none-too-gently hauled him back into the chair. “Tape him to it.”
That had Banner’s attention. Wildly, he watched as one of his guys pulled a thick roll of duct tape from his pocket. Pulling up a strip, it made a loud familiar sound.
“Wait,” Banner was worried now. “What are we doing here?” They started taping him to the chair and Banner was shouting “hey!” and “stop!”
It occurred to Clint that Banner wasn’t worried about his brother’s potential scandal. That was in the future. He was worried about having his teeth pulled out of his mouth one by one in the next few minutes. The time frame…
“What did you do, Banner?” Clint moved closer once his guys finished taping him to the chair. “What’s coming?”
Banner was silent. Now he was scared. Holy fuck. What was going on?
“Hold his head,” Clint ordered.
Banner shouted “No-no-no-no-no-no-no!” Smart enough to know what was going to happen.
Grabbing Banner’s upper lip, he pulled it painfully back from the man’s teeth.
“You know something,” Clint told him. “For every minute you don’t tell me, I’m pulling out one of these pearly whites. Got it?”
Banner didn’t immediately speak. Clint took the pliers, using them to grip one of Banner’s upper front teeth. Thrashing in the chair, Banner grew more desperate by the second, drooling and yelling “no!” at turns while Clint’s men held him steady.
“What’s coming?” Clint asked.
“I d-don’t know,” Banner managed around the tool and with Clint holding his lip. “Don’t!”
Clint pulled the tooth out with a quick yank while Banner screamed, thrashing in the hold of his men. Blood flowed from the hole where his tooth had been, from his nose, and his eyes were wide when Clint tossed the tooth casually away.
“Let’s try this again,” Clint said calmly, fear of what he didn’t know battling with the satisfaction of torturing the miserable fuck.
Clint aimed for the other front tooth when Banner cried, “Wait!”
He paused, but he didn’t move the pliers. Banner appeared desperate.
“Barnes knows!” Banner yelled.
Those two words had Clint taking a step back, taking the pliers with him. “Barnes knows what?”
Clint was all too afraid he knew the answer to that.
“Everything!” Banner cried. “You pulled my fucking tooth out!”
At Clint’s nod, his men stepped back. He got in Banner’s face again.
“What do you mean everything?” Clint wanted to know. “You been a rat all along, Banner? Is that it?”
“Hey, I’m not the rat,” Banner told him, blood filling his mouth.
“Then how do you know anything about Barnes?” Clint didn’t like this. Was something going to happen tonight? Had someone told Barnes all about their plan. This is bad. “If you’re not the rat, who is?”
Banner was shaking his head, blood running down his face, staining his clothes. Forcefully, he spat out blood.
“They’ll kill me,” Banner told him, worry flooding the man’s expression.
Clint had to laugh at that.
“What do you think I’m going to do?” Clint demanded. “You were just handed the woman I love, and I had to watch that shit, all these years. I got to watch while you betrayed her, laid hands on her.”
“Betrayed her?” Banner yelled. “She betrayed me! She never gave me a chance. I was her husband. I would have done anything for her. And she didn’t care. She was off fucking you every chance she got. Faithless bitch!”
“I will pull every goddamn tooth out of your head if you say another fucking word about her,” Clint promised, waving the pliers in front of his face. “What does Barnes know and how does he know it?”
“I wasn’t involved with any of it… until Steve broke off from Katerina,” Banner said after a moment.
And that was before Steve got married.
“Paulina’s sister, right? The one you’ve been fucking?” Clint asked.
Banner spit at Clint in anger, the bloody lob barely grazing Clint’s shoe. “I wouldn’t have fucked anyone else if I have a loyal, loving wife.”
“What did I say?” Clint’s grip tightened on the tool in his hand. “And?”
“After Steve cut her off, Kat took up with Barnes,” Banner explained.
Clint was already shaking his head. “Kat wouldn’t have known anything,” Clint told him. “Steve wouldn’t do that.”
“But I did,” Banner admitted. “One night I got to Paulina’s place and Kat dropped by. Barnes was with her.”
Holy shit.
“Barnes wasn’t trying to get me to rat anyone out,” Banner explained slowly. “But he made me an offer.”
Clint was sure he did. “What offer?”
“Barnes told me he was looking for a new consigliere,” Banner said, defiance shining in his dark eyes. “Everybody knows Petruzello is going to retire soon. Hell, he’s been with them for decades… Barnes told me he could use a guy like me. He saw me for my talent. Saw how I was being treated over here.”
“How you were treated?” Clint’s voice rose. “Are you fucking kidding me? What were you fucking lacking? You had Nat and she’s all I want in this world. You had a beautiful fucking house, nice cars, nice whore. Lot of money. Explain it to me.”
“You know what else I had?” Banner grumbled. “I had competition. And no matter how many fucking times I begged Steve to get rid of your sorry ass, he refused.”
“But Barnes was willing to, right? Is that why I got shot?” Clint shook his head, barely holding his rage down. “You must have been so fucking disappointed that I lived.”
“I was.” Banner’s glare stayed on him.
“So then what? In your anger, you beat the shit out of Nat? Is that it? You took it out on her?” Oh, something Clint said had angry color flooding Banner’s face. “Am I wrong?”
“I wouldn’t have laid a hand on my wife,” Banner said indignantly. “Not without good reason.”
“There is no good reason to hit a woman,” Clint shot back. “Never… It also wasn’t the first time.”
“How would you have felt?” Banner yelled, struggling with the tape holding him in the chair. “It was bad enough that she cheated on me with you. She never got fucking over you. Then she turns up pregnant… I completely lost it.”
The back of Clint’s hand flew, sending Banner’s head spinning. But he wasn’t backing down. With an angry glare, Banner said, “You think you would have done better? If it had been my baby, you wouldn’t have done the same?”
It took everything in him not to just shoot the bastard. Banner knew Nat was pregnant and he knew it wasn’t his. Rage clouded his mind but as he blew out an exhale, Clint tried to focus. The pregnancy had been the reason he’d beaten his wife the first time.
Why did he do it the second time?
“Did you agree to beat Nat that night for a diversion?” Clint asked him calmly. “Because the very next day, Steve called a meeting of the families. The very next day, Hansen attacked Steve’s house. He tried to take Steve’s wife. And that was your job, wasn’t it? You beat Nat to try and draw Steve out. Barnes would have known Steve only leaves the house now for business talks. Am I right?”
The corners of Banner’s mouth tipped up as he glared at him. The answer to Clint’s question was in that self-righteous smirk.
Barnes wanted Steve’s position that badly. They’d underestimated him.
“What was in it for you?” Clint had to know. “Besides taking over as Barnes consigliere. What?”
“What the fuck do you think?” Banner shot back. “The plan was for him to take Steve off the board and you with him. I’d be his new consigliere and Nat would be mine. No more interference from her brother or you. She would finally, totally be just mine.”
Swallowing back the sting of bile in the back of his throat, Clint stared him down. “Is that the plan for tonight, Banner? Is tonight Barnes’ second shot at it?”
But then it occurred to him, Banner had been tossed out. He wasn’t there when they made the plan for tonight. He had no way of knowing what was coming down. Not while his only ties left to the Rogers’ family was Paulina.
The bullet came out of nowhere, piercing Banner’s forehead and sending his head sharply back.
Clint dropped the pliers and hit the floor as another shot from behind him hit one of his men in the head. Fuck! Finding cover behind a stack of shipping pallets, Clint pulled out his .45 and began trading fire with whoever the hell it was. The other soldier he brought with him stayed behind him.
Popping up, Clint fired shots at where he thought the shooter must be. One of his bullets found the target, the rough cry sounding familiar. The sound of retreating steps had Clint sprinting in that direction, trying like hell to see who exactly who the fucker was.
If it wasn’t the rat in their family, and Clint suspected it was, it was one of Barnes men. By the time Clint reached the old rusty warehouse door, whoever had been there was gone.
Clint’s mind spun. Barnes was coming after them tonight. His first responsibility was to get to Steve and let him know they were in a world of shit right now.
His heart had him making a different choice. With shaking, blood-covered hands, Clint pulled out his phone and called Nat.
“Clint?” She still answered the phone quietly, as she had the last several years when no one was supposed to know they were talking. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, baby,” he assured her. “But we have a very big problem right now and I need you to do something for me.”
“Okay,” she said.
“When I end this call, I’ve got to tell Steve that we’ve been ratted out,” Clint explained quickly. “Barnes knows what we planned and that puts all of us in danger.”
“Oh my, God,” she whispered.
His heart squeezed in his chest. His Nat had been through so much.
“I don’t want you to worry about that,” Clint told her. “I want you to go get your sister-in-law. Right now. Get her out and take her to your mother’s sewing room. I need you to promise me you’ll do this as soon as you get off the phone.”
“Clint, I’m n-not dressed,” she said in a shaking voice. “I’m in pajamas—”
“You’re not going to take the time to get dressed, baby,” Clint said firmly. “You’re going to do what I tell you. Get the two of you in there as fast as you can. Okay? Do this for me?”
A moment passed. Finally, she said, “Yes… I’ll go now.”
“I love you,” he told her. “Always remember I love you so much.”
“I love you,” she said through tears. “Please stay alive. I can’t l-lose you now.”
Clint didn’t know what they were facing. He really didn’t.
“You won’t lose me,” he told her. “Now go. Get to that room and stay there.”
“Clint!” His other man yelled to get his attention as he pocketed his phone. “Incoming. Look like Barnes’ men.”
Taking a deep breath, Clint got ready for whatever was coming. And he had every intention of getting back to Nat.
***
The sound of the key rattling in the doorknob of your room pulled your attention from the book you really weren’t reading. It was a little early for dinner but maybe Dyson had a reason for arriving early. You knew the family had plans tonight. Dangerous plans.
You didn’t expect Nat to scramble into your room like a scared mouse, swallowed by the dark green bathroom she wore over her pajamas. Her eyes were wide, and fear reflected from those depths.
Something was very wrong here.
“Nat?” You rose from the bed, and she dashed over to you, her hands twisting around the old-fashioned ring of keys like nervous birds.
“Clint called me,” she whispered. “H-he said something about us being ratted out and… he wants me to come get you and take you to my mother’s sewing room.”
“What?” You didn’t understand. “Nat, slow down. Is he talking about—”
“Please,” she begged you. “He wouldn’t have told me to do this if things weren’t really, really bad. We have to go.”
You were shaking your head.
Nat was trying to pull you by the arm. “Why are we going to your mother’s sewing room?”
“Please, just come with me,” Nat begged.
“Okay,” you told her. “Just a minute.”
You wore a sweater with jeans, quickly pulling on a pair of ankle boots. You sprinted for the closet, pulling out the cloth bundle that concealed the handgun Dyson left you. Slapping a loaded clip into the 9 mm, you shoved the other clips and boxes of ammo into a tote bag, carrying it out with you as you went back to Nat.
Her green eyes were wide on the gun in your hand. “How do you have that?”
“Dyson,” you told her. “Let’s go.”
Instead of leading you down the stairs to the rest of the house, Nat led you the other way. You passed her bedroom, the other guestrooms. She stopped in front of what you thought was a linen closet. She opened the door, and the neat shelves of bedding and towels confirmed your suspicions. When she pushed a button on the wall, the shelf and the wall behind it moved, sliding away to reveal a small chamber behind it.
A secret room?
Nat pushed another button and the shelf and wall slid back into place, closing the two of you in a darkened room that was about the size of a child’s bedroom. In her defense, there was a small table with a very old sewing machine on top of it sitting off to the side and a dressmaker’s dummy next to it. There were cobwebs everywhere, like no one had been in the room for years. There was a small oval window, filtering sunlight to brighten the room.
“Oh,” Nat said, kneeling by the sewing machine and pulling a box from under it. There was a small oil lamp and a cigarette lighter. Setting it next to the sewing machine, she lit the lamp to brighten up the room around you.
“So, a sewing room?” you asked, tucking the gun in the waistband of your jeans at your lower back.
Nat nodded. “It really was once. I think our grandmother or great-grandmother actually sewed in here.”
“With a secret door?” You smiled.
“That was put in later,” Nat explained. “By my father. I guess something happened when we were kids that got him thinking. He decided we needed a room that no one else knew about in the house to hide. You know, us and Mom. Sometimes whatever illegal thing he wasn’t supposed to have. He was very proud the feds never found it.”
You nodded. That made sense. But you really needed to know what was going on.
“Okay, now that we’re here,” you spoke quietly, “what did Clint say? What’s going on?”
Taking a seat on the padded bench seat by the sewing machine, Nat took a deep breath. You didn’t like the way her hands shook in her lap.
“He just called me and told me that we’d been ratted out,” she told you. “He said Barnes knew our plans and that put us all in danger.”
Shock and fear had you staring at her. Dyson told you that those plans were dangerous to begin with and now Barnes knew them? You’d all been ratted out?
“Wait, he told you to get to the sewing room?” you asked.
“No, he told me to come get you and for us both to come here.”
Things were serious then. Fuck.
“Did Clint tell you anything that was planned?” you asked. “Anything at all?”
Nat shook her head. “I wouldn’t understand if he did. I’m just so afraid… if something happens to him., I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Try not to worry,” you told her. “Clint’s not going anywhere now that you’re together.”
Her lips quivered like she wanted to smile but was afraid to.
“I hate this,” she said quietly. “I always have. This business they are in. I know it’s how I’ve had a roof over my head and all the nice things I’ve had in life. But it’s so terrifying to know it can all be gone in the blink of an eye. I remember sitting in here with my mother and Steve a couple of times when we were kids. It wasn’t just knowing we were in danger. It was not knowing anything.”
Your parents had been part of that world too. You’d been spared that. Everyone thought you were disfigured, kept off to the side because of it. If you’d ever been in any danger before Steve came into your life, you weren’t aware of it.
Now? You understood it.
“We know some things,” you told her. “Apparently someone ratted us out. I have a pretty good idea of who that is.”
“Who?” she asked.
“It’s Neal,” you told her. “I’m sure of it. I don’t know how or why but it’s him.”
Nat snorted. “For all we know, it’s Bruce.”
“It’s possible,” you told her. “He probably has a hand in it. I mean, we know he has a link to Barnes. Kat and her sister.”
Her green-eyed gaze never left you.
“But, no offense, he’s a lawyer,” you told her. “He might have gone to Barnes when Steve got you out of that house. But what does he really know that would benefit Barnes? He’s not a soldier. Not part of their plans… But Neal?”
Just the thought of the damage the man could do flooded your mind. He would have been part of planning whatever was supposed to happen tonight.
And Neal was flagrantly ambitious and arrogant. The way he conducted himself in your household with everyone but Steve? Especially you. What would have happened with Banner that day if Scott and Yelena hadn’t been there?
Clint was right. Everyone was in danger. Jesus. You had to think.
“Where was Clint when he called you?” you asked.
Nat shook her head. “I don’t know. All I know is that he said he and Scott were ‘running into town’ tonight. And that was when he left this morning.”
You didn’t miss the fear in her tone.
“Did you bring your phone?” you asked her.
Nat pulled her phone and a charger from the pocket of her robe. You smiled when she handed it to you.
You tried texting Dyson first but got no response. Steve? You weren’t going there. He needed to have his head in the game and think you were safely tucked away.
Luca answered when you texted him, thinking you were Nat. If you could get him up there, to trust you, he might have the information you needed.
Luca: What you need, hon?
“What’s something you’d normally ask for, Nat?”
“Tea,” she told you. “But not for a couple of hours yet.”
Can you bring my tea up early, please? My nerves are bad today, you typed.
Luca: Sure. Give me bout 15 minutes.
Fifteen minutes exactly, Luca came up the stairs with the tray. He’d just reached her bedroom door when you approached him from the other direction. Luca’s dark eyes were wide on you.
“Shit,” he muttered.
You motioned for him to follow you. His expression was a study in reluctance, but he followed you back to the linen closet, waiting for you to open the door to the hidden chamber. Nat stood up when the two of you walked back in.
“What’s this?” Luca asked, handing the tray to Nat and focusing on her.
“Nat just did what Clint asked her to,” you told him. “He called Nat and told her to come get me and for us to come here. He said we’ve been ratted out.”
Luca scrubbed a hand over his lower face, concern bleeding into his expression. “Seriously?”
You nodded. “We don’t know where Clint is. Dyson wouldn’t answer me.”
Luca’s gaze on you was a wild mix of uncertainty and dread. You understood the position he was in.
“I’m not sure where Clint is,” Luca told you. “Dyson? Here in a while, he’s supposed to be meeting Neal. Something to do with Hansen.”
Your anxiety was consumed by fear then. “What? Oh, my God. Luca…” You took a deep breath, trying not to let fear get the better of you. “Luca, if Clint’s right and we’ve been betrayed, and I believe him, who do you think the rat is?”
“Just because you don’t like Neal doesn’t make him a rat,” Luca said calmly.
“I wasn’t there for tonight’s planning session,” you said. “But I’m guessing you were. If we’ve been ratted out, it had to be someone in that room. I know it’s not you or Dyson. I know it’s not Clint. Who else was there?”
“Scott and Neal,” he said.
“Do you really think Scott would do that?”
“Fuck,” Luca muttered, his answer telling you he didn’t believe any more than you did.
“Wait, where’s Steve?” you asked in a panic.
“Locked away in his study with the new consigliere.”
Nat set the tray with the tea on the floor at her feet, riveted to the conversation.
“He just got a new lawyer.” You shook your head. “Do you know him? Could he be a problem?”
“Nah, Murdock’s good people,” Luca told you. “Besides that, he’s blind so…”
If Luca didn’t suspect anything there, you’d trust his judgment.
“Where’s Scott?” you asked. Any of Steve’s trusted circle could be in danger right now or worse.
“Scott and Clint are supposed to be heading this way in the next couple of hours,” he said. “To meet with Steve about their part in this.”
“From the way he sounded, I don’t know if Clint will be there,” Nat whispered.
Steve and Luca were safe. You didn’t know where Clint and Scott were. And Dyson?
“We have to find Dyson and Clint,” you told him before turning your attention to Nat. “Clint called you first, to tell you there was trouble. If Steve’s down there meeting with his lawyer, Clint didn’t get in touch with him which means he’s in trouble.”
Nat’s face crumbled and you hugged her, eased her back down onto the padded bench.
You and Luca both tried Dyson and Clint, you on Nat’s phone. That he wasn’t answering Nat had your fear escalating.
When Luca’s phone rang, he answered immediately. “Scott? Hey, where are you?”
You couldn’t make out what Scott was saying. Luca nodded, mouthing “he’s fine.”
“Do you know where Dyson or Barton is?” Luca asked him, shaking his head.
“S’alright. I need you to get over here,” Luca told him. “Now.”
Luca ended the call, looking from Nat to you. “Scott don’t know where anyone is… Listen. You two need to stay right here, okay? I got to get to the boss and let him know we have a situation. We gotta find Dyson and Clint right fucking now.”
Nat buried her face in her hands, crying. You met his gaze squarely, nodding. Luca had trusted the two of you on what you knew. You were grateful.
“Stay in touch with me,” you told him.
“Will do,” Luca said, making his way out of the sewing room.
There was one more call you had to make. You knew Yelena’s number by heart. You didn’t know if she would recognize Nat’s number or if she’d answer, even if she did.
On the fifth tone, someone answered. “Natasha?” Yelena’s accented voice whispered.
“No, it’s me,” you said.
“You’re already out?” There was a pause then. “I’m so sorry about—”
“I am so sorry about what happened,” she said in a rush. “I’m so sorry—”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” you cut her off. “But we’ll talk about that later. Are you safe? Dyson said you were safe and with friends.”
“I’m safe,” she told you. You could hear the smile in her voice. “I promise.”
“Do you have any idea where he is right now?” you asked.
“Dyson? No,” she said. “Why? Is something wrong?”
You heard the same fear you felt in her words. “Yes, and we don’t know where he is. Or Clint.”
“Clint?” Yelena asked. “I talked to him earlier. I gave him some intel on where he could find Banner.”
Oh, shit.
“Can you give me the location?” You needed it. “He might be in trouble.” You told her how he called Nat and what he’d said.
“Where is Neal?” Yelena asked.
“Not sure, but I’m told his part of the plan was to go with Dyson to see Hansen,” you explained.
“Neal is the traitor,” she said gravely.
“I know. And we can’t let him kill Dyson.”
“We won’t,” she assured you. “Does Steve know?”
You had to laugh at that. “He soon will. Luca’s going to talk to him.”
“Let me know the second you get any leads on Dyson,” she told you. “We will go find Clint.”
You didn’t know who we were. But you trusted her.
“Thank you.”
“Stay where you are,” she told you. “With Nat. For now.”
You couldn’t promise her that, but you also didn’t want to mess with her head.
“I will,” you said. “Please be careful.”
***
Yelena ended the call, walking back into the living room of the little cabin where Dyson had stashed her for safety. Dyson’s friends, who needed a place to lay low from some trouble they found themselves in, were scattered across the room.
Clay and Aisha were watching something on the History Channel, drinking beer and eating popcorn. Pooch and Cougar were still playing cards. Only Jensen looked up from his laptop to see her return.
“What’s up?” Jensen asked.
“Dyson maybe in trouble,” she told them.
And that was all she needed to say. Now that she had everyone’s attention, she filled them in on the details. Like her, there wasn’t a lot they wouldn’t do for their mutual friend.
Clay was a strategist and didn’t take him long to come up with a plan of action.
“Three of us are going to the location where we sent Barton,” he said. “Three of us are going to Hansen’s place.”
She didn’t miss the distaste in his voice when he said the name Hansen. She wasn’t the only one the bastard had fucked with over the years.
“Yelena, you take Pooch and Cougar and find Barton,” Clay said. “I’ll—”
“No,” Yelena cut him off. “I’m going to Hansen’s.”
Aisha and Clay exchanged a worried glance. “You sure about this?” Clay asked her.
Yelena nodded. After everything Dyson had done for her, for all of them, she wanted to be there to protect him if she could. If anything happened to him, it would devastate her.
It would devastate her boss. And Yelena had no intention of having to tell Mrs. Rogers that anything happened to Dyson on her watch.
Clay nodded. “Aisha, take Pooch and Cougar and go find Barton. Yelena, you and Jensen are with me.”
PS: Just on my fic posts, I’m adding a tip function. In honor of the kitty we just lost in February, I’m donating everything to our local animal shelter. Tips are not, will never be, and have never been expected. But if you feel so inclined, thank you. 🙏
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your requested reminder to post knives going nuclear on zazie when you can :)
ok so im going to be reblogging this to the body horrors week later cause. uh. well. knives. quite literally goes nuclear?
all of these screenshots are from the overhaul project cause i haven't managed to catch the dark horse digital editions on sale yet, though i'll provide the dark horse translations where i can because i have physical copies, and the dark horse translations are imo clearer here.
there are ids in all the alt texts for the photos, it's why this took several days longer than i'd originally planned -finger guns- alt texts might look a little weird in the first set btw - tumblr started eating the photoset and i had to spend an extra half an hour fixing it -finger guns-
the pages are volume 11, pages 90-92, and 114-17, because a lot of the pages in between are leadup pages and also have the zazie control worm. thing.
pages 90-2 are the distant explosion (you can click on the first image and see it in the photo viewer, if for some reason it will not view in dashboard mode. But it does exist!)
(on page 90, dark horse is a lot more specific, with "the northeast sky is glowing" instead of "the whole sky is glowing". the other two boxes with text read "what is--?!" and "oh my..!" respectfully as if they were cut off mid sentence.)
so uh.
knives went uh.
literal "nuclear bomb exploded just above a town"
because he kind of did. Unlike a true nuclear bomb, he did not form a mushroom cloud, but the metaphor is still there. that is a nuclear metaphor
per pages 114-117 (pages are from left to right, read the pages right to left. sorry)
(legato's speech bubbles on page 114 in the dark horse edition read: Survival of the fittest is the law of nature. What is about to happen now is a just a logical extension of that. Be very afraid. You are in his presence. Did you not notice, Leader of the Sand Worms?
It reads very differently, imo, more like Zazie was caught up in their own plots and schemes to realize the control worm didn't work. Legato is also telling Zazie that Zazie should be afraid of Knives. Okay? Not asking if Zazie is afraid. Telling Zazie to be afraid. Like some sort of reverse "Be Not Afraid" from the bible.
Zazie's thought bubbles on page 115 are translated as "the dark hole is swallowing the poison" which reads more like knives made a black hole. given the visuals? that sounds more likely. Black holes, as a real life thing that we know about and have tried to study, are often referred to as swallowing things that pass too close. knives made a mini black hole to eat the poison from the sand worm venom. knives has consumed the dependent plants.)
the fact is, as a metatextual read, plants are nuclear reactors. independent plants are walking nuclear bombs. Nightow did this on purpose. We're meant to read them as something nuclear.
This is, as i was saying to @needle-noggins the other night when i was working on it in an attempt to get more of the alt texts written, a casual display of power. Knives is throwing a hissy fit! Knives is throwing a multi-megaton display of power because Zazie tried to take him over with the control worm. Page 91 had needle-noggins and i speechless because on the low end that tower of debris from the explosion is (if we did the very, very rough math right) THIRTY MILES TALL. Twice as tall as the tallest mountain in the solar system, Olympus Mons! or roughly five and a half times as tall as Mount Everest. On the outside, because we figured its anywhere from 25-30 times taller than the cloud cover, it could be up to thirty seven miles
Over halfway to space on earth.
like.
I know we love the independent plants and all. But Holy Shit. just.
holy shit
#myde talks#trigun#trigun maximum#trimax#millions knives#zazie the beast#legato bluesummers#long post#trigun meta#meta#writing alt text is very hard for me i am trying very hard to make them both descriptive but also not too bogged down with details#if i miss something in them PLEASE TELL ME#i am trying#i also started writing this at like midnight on friday night and then was continuing it on saturday after work and lemme tell you#hell is real and it is working retail during the holidays on saturday#anyway#if someone wants to give my INCREDIBLY ROUGH ESTIMATE of how much bigger the tower of debris is than gunsmokes cloud cover#please do#im curious
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Proxies with a fem reader going to a pumpkin patch so she can pick out her pumpkin? :>
Proxies and Fem!Reader going to a pumpkin patch!
obligatory toby is platonic but tbh i dont think romance ties too much into these specific hcs
also i havent been to a pumpkin patch in years so im really scraping my brain trying to remeber what people do asides pick pumpkins...and google... a lot of google...
i admit i had to fight myself not to make this a group thing where it's all together but im 80% sure you wanted these separate
no unique gifs for each character, too eepy (its 6am rn and i couldnt sleep for the life of me SOBS)
Masky:
I feel like out of the three he's probably going to give the most resistance, he just doesn't like being around where loads of people may be; too much noise you know? But with enough coaxing and reassurance I do believe you can convince him to tag along
Most straight forward about it, wants it to be in and out, so he kinda beelines and tries to find a pair of pumpkins that'll do
"Babe... those ones are too small to carve..." "They're. Average."
Sorry I had to make that joke
Anyways
Out of all the activities there you might get him to sit down for a hayride if it's not too too packed!
Overall it's an okay experience, but really this guy would prefer the pumpkin carving at home after the fact; out on a porch sitting next to one another, alone in comfortable silence! He saves the seeds to make into snacks later
Hoodie:
A little more willing to go out! I feel like he's the easiest in terms of talking into stuff! As long as it's not anything dangerous he's more than willing to spend time with you.... all the better to keep his eye on you.. both in a cute aww he wants to protect you way and a creepy way but hey that's creepypasta for you
If they're offering shitty quickly constructed rides count him in, he's going to be the one dragging you!
While I'm not sure what rides would be there I'm sure there'd be but you're gonna be there for way longer than originally planned
Saving this for another day but Ferris Wheel trope where it gets stuck, one of y'all totally shouldn't send in a character for me to do that for wink wink nudge nudge
Probably the most emotive you see Hoodie, ever, it's actually a little jarring at first but it's cute in it's own way that he's getting all hyped up over some rides
overall? y'all forget to actually. pick pumpkins so you guys have to almost immediately return to go browse at the pumpkins that remain. Does the thing where you knock on produce to make sure it sounds right. Does he know what he's going or what he's looking for? No clue but hey there's that mental image, Hoodie kneeling down on the ground, head pressed against a pumpkin and tapping it
Ticci Toby:
Pretends to not wanna go but really he's totally fucking stoked that you wanna go somewhere with him, him? like him him? Toby? Well if you insist-
That bit sounded mean but I believe Toby feels.... I don't know how to put it but like I think it's because he used to be bullied and left out that he still gets a little surprised when you willingly invite him to hang out; not that he's complaining though
Haunted corn maze. This fucker beelines for the corn maze. You have lost your silly friend with an affinity for collecting empty snail shells (hc)
Good luck trying to find him, if it's one of those mazes with scare actors he's not going to flinch or scream so there goes your audio cue
Eventually you do find him though! So it's not totally disastrous! It just takes you upwards of fifteen minutes because you yourself got lost before looping back to the entrance, only to find this little shit sitting right by the entrance
Seriously how the fuck did he do that?
No clue
You know how sometimes pumpkins are bumpy or a lil... off looking? Leave it to this fucker to make several jokes about how they look, primarily ragging on the bumpier ones
"Hey look, it looks like you" "shut the fuck up"/j
Generally a very good time as long as you ignore the small heart attack you got when Toby disappeared! Good luck cleaning the mess after carving up your pumpkins
He probably tries to see what the guts taste like
idk what raw pumpkin guts taste like
not sure if its any good because ive only tried pre canned pumpkin puree and used it for baking so idk if it tastes good straight from the source
#creepypasta headcanon#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta x you#masky headcanons#masky x reader#hoodie imagines#hoodie x reader#ticci toby x reader#ticci toby x you
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