#after today my posts will become more sparse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whispersoftheton · 11 months

Note

Hello!

Do you think you could write an anthony x reader angst turned fluff/smut fic?

They’ve married out of duty but both have feelings for each other they refuse to admit

Hi! This is also my first fic for this fandom and I got kind of carried away with it, hope you don't mind :) Thank you for requesting btw <3

dont worry the next request i post will have smut in it and im posting that one this weekend >:)

Anthony Bridgerton x F!Reader

Warnings: reader and Anthony are married, pining, death of parents (reader), angst, kissing, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.4K

The day dawned crisp and clear, sunlight peering through the flowing curtains and illuminating your path along the long hallway of your lavish home. The sounds of maids bustling through the estate and the gravel crackling beneath the horse's hoofs from outside filled your ears. Your mind raced with the many tasks at hand for today as you straightened out your dress. The last ball of the season was a significant one indeed, and you had the honor of hosting it tonight. The last few days were filled with overseeing that every detail of the evening, no matter how small, was managed and executed perfectly.

As the maids fetched accessories and floral arrangements for you to approve ahead of the festivities, you pondered how your life had drastically changed. A mere three months had passed since your wedding day. Still, it seemed a lifetime ago. You had every reason to be happy, you had married well, living more than comfortably, and your husband was not unkind towards you like others you've heard about. But your marriage to the viscount wasn't exactly the love story of the century, to say the least.

After the passing of both your parents, Lady Danbury had taken you in as one of her own. Raised you to be a lady of society in every way she saw fit and even sponsored your coming out last season. The very same season, the Queen appointed you as her diamond. Not long after, none other than Anthony Bridgerton set his sights on you, surpassing any honorable suitor that even thought about appearing at your doorstep. The entire courtship, along with the proposal, felt purely transactional. Anthony berated you with questions, encounters feeling more like interviews than any courting you were used to. It was not as if you were not attracted to the man if you were being entirely honest with yourself; you'd spent the better half of your time bottling up whatever it is that blossoms in your chest when he is near. And you hated yourself for it. For feeling something you couldn't even name for a man who treated as nothing more than an object. Every public outing where he was caring towards you, even kind and every bit of charming you could ever hope for, raised your hopes high only to see them crashing down at the indifference towards you the moment you were alone without the peering eyes of the ton on you.

Your wedding and honeymoon came and went in a blur. Not even able to consummate the marriage properly due to an argument that left you both enraged and unable to look each other in the eye in the days that followed. The following months were a string of simple greetings in passing and only speaking to one another when absolutely necessary. The empty house you now lived in was becoming your own personal void without so much as the company of your supposed husband.

"Viscountess Bridgerton, are you alright?" Your maid questioned as you snapped out of your haze and directed your attention back to the bouquets before you.

"Yes, this one will be lovely for tonight, thank you." You made your final decision as Anthony strolled into the room. Your maids quickly making themselves sparse, leaving the two of you alone.

"My family should be arriving any second; I assume everything for tonight is in order, is it not?" The underlying sarcasm and questioning of your ability as the lady of the house crawled right under your skin, any lingering feelings you had been contemplating only a moment ago for the Viscount gone in an instant at his distasteful manner.

"Yes, Lord Bridgerton." You replied dryly.

"Dear, we are married and have been for some time now. I would very much like it if I did not have to tell you to address me by my first name while we are in our home." You audibly scoffed at his command while standing from your seat.

"And I would very much like it if my husband would not treat me as though I do not exist." You snapped. Anthony's jaw clenched as he tensed before you. "Seems like neither of us shall get what we want. Now if you'll excuse me, my lord, I have some preparations still pending for tonight. I am sure you can see your family to their rooms for now."

"Now, you will not even greet my family. Do you have a distaste for them as well?"

"Never. I adore your mama and siblings as if they were my own." Anthony searched for any sign of deceit but instead found honest eyes staring back at him, making his heart ache. "If anything, I am grateful. Alas, there shall be a Bridgerton in this home I do not dislike."

Your thoughts betrayed you abruptly exited the room and returned to your bed chambers to prepare for the evening, shutting the door and leaning against it in an attempt to steady yourself. Damn him. His scent blurred your thoughts and inhibited every one of your senses as you attempted to concentrate on the anger portrayed in his words. Instead, your mind wandered to how his white shirt hugged every curve of his chest, the plumpness of his lips, and the curve of his jaw. It was alluring in the most intoxicating way. You knew you had to compose yourself before the night began; the last thing you needed was to be distraught at your own ball.

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

You stepped into the ballroom in your new dress gown the modiste had spent a significant amount of time making especially for this occasion. The staircase was beautifully adorned with white roses and touches of lilacs cascading down onto the main area. Candelabras and other flourishing arrangements were stationed around the refreshment tables your guests gathered at, and the thrumming rhythm of classical music whispered into your ears as you took notice of everyone enjoying themselves before greeting them.

Unbeknownst to you, Anthony stood at the opposite end of the ballroom, observing how you conducted yourself gracefully amongst the guests—making light conversations while extending your kindness to everyone. He marveled at your ability to make each person feel as though they had your undivided attention; although he would never admit it, he found himself yearning for that same attention from you.

Early on, Anthony knew you fit all the requirements he had given himself for a wife. Someone honorable and suitable enough to hold the role of his Viscountess. It was precisely why he had chosen you, but that wasn't the only motive. You were the only lady's company outside his sisters; he did not particularly hate. Every potential partner he sought that season out had come up empty, whether it had been on the conversation or any other unfulfilling matter they discussed. You were different. You carried a conversation like no other, educated in far more areas than he could've hoped for, but none of that quite captured his heart in an unsuspecting manner like your character. You were kind and compassionate in a way he admired; you challenged him in ways that irritated him to no end, yet he found himself entirely enraptured by you. This is precisely why he had no choice other than shut you out completely. Anthony knew letting you get too close would be going against everything he wanted for himself. He couldn't let himself love another or have another love him; with love came loss. That he knew for certain.

"All seems good with the two of you, I see." Daphne smiled while moving to stand by Anthony as she spoke, breaking his train of thought.

"Good? I do not follow, dear sister." Anthony cleared his throat.

"Yes, good. With the way you were just openly admiring your wife, I assume it is only because the two of you have finally gotten over yourselves and admitted whatever it is you feel for one another." Anthony practically rolled his eyes at his younger sister, beginning to regret ever being forthcoming with her about the circumstances of his marriage early on. "Oh, do not tell me you are still playing this game? At this stage of marriage? Anthony-" She began scolding him, but he interrupted and led her to a more private area of the ballroom.

"There is no game. We married because it was our duty to do so. Nothing more, nothing less. You will have to accept that, Daphne." Anthony's voice grew stern as he furrowed his brows at his sister.

"And I do. What I will not accept is the way your love for each other goes unspoken when it is clear to everyone around you." She spoke her following words in a hushed tone as to keep anyone who may be standing near from listening to them. "There is no doubt you hold love in your heart for her, brother. But if you do not tell her soon, I fear you will lose her and your only chance at happiness forever." With that, Daphne offered him a soft smile before walking towards Simon, who busied himself greeting Lady Danbury and her mama.

The night went on better than you could've hoped for. The dances and mingling were without a flaw, and even Lady Bridgerton and the Dutchess were quick to praise you on how well everything had turned out. Soon the guests started to filter out, making their way home after a long night of celebration. You strolled over to your husband after bidding goodbye to her majesty the Queen and ensuring everything had been to her liking. Anthony couldn't help but take notice of how stunning you looked tonight. How your dress fell perfectly over your figure, gems scattered throughout to match his mother's necklace laid in the most alluring way on the supple skin of your neck and chest. He was entranced in a way he'd never been before. Perhaps Daphne had been right. There's a sentence he never thought he'd utter, he thought to himself. Perhaps he had let his fears control him for far too long.

You had barely noticed your ring slipping from your fingers to fall at Anthony's feet as you approached him. Both of you leaned down to reach for it in unison, fingers ghosting over one another, making your breath catch and your eyes meet as he placed it upon your finger once again. The intimacy of such a small moment becoming too much to bear far too quickly.

"I must go." You could not bear to withstand one more moment under Anthony's intense glare, the part of you that wanted to finally divulge all the feelings you'd fought so hard to suppress after all this time threatening to break through at any given moment. You suddenly stepped back, picked up your dress the best you could, and walked hastily to avoid attracting unwanted attention from lingering guests. As you paced through the gardens, an overwhelming and uncertain feeling washed over you before you overheard Anthony's steps behind you.

"Why? Why is it that you distance yourself from me?" Anthony shouted in a hushed tone toward you.

"Me? I am not the one stuffed in my office all day, coming to bed at late hours of the night when I am asleep and gone once I wake. Avoiding me day in and day out as if I am a plague to you." Tears welled in your eyes, making Anthony's breath hitch. He could not stand to see you like this. Every nerve in his body burned to fix whatever was troubling you, even if he was the one who caused it. Every feeling he had worked so hard to bury all this time, convincing himself he did not love you, could not love you, surfacing with every word that escaped your lips. "You treat me as though you do not care for me." Your voice was just low enough for him to hear, eyes cast downward, unable to give him so much as a glance through his silence.

"Do not care for you? It is as if I am being consumed when I am with you. I cannot hold a breath or do the most ordinary task without you racing across my every thought. I feel as though I am losing my sanity because I cannot bear to be without you for one second. And when you are near me, it is positively intoxicating in ways I did not know to be possible." Anthony stepped cautiously toward you, fingers ghosting over your cheek, eyes dancing along your features with adoration filling them. "I love you. I love you as much as a person can love another. I do not wish to hold it inside anymore. I love you."

"I love you too." A sob wracked your chest as you responded without hesitation. The reflection in your eyes conveyed the devotion and tenderness he yearned for. It was as if you indeed saw the pieces of him but only sought to love him as he was, incomplete and perfect in every way in your eyes. As your husband.

Your heartbeat quickened as Anthony stepped close enough so that your noses practically brushed against one another—a familiar desire spreading from your heart to your chest.

Anthony cupped your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. Chills spread along your skin at the warmth of his touch. Unbridled affection flowed freely and filled the space between you. Your lips met for what felt like the first time; his other hand settled at your waist, prompting you closer to him and deepening the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency. It was as if nothing else mattered, the past becoming more of a distant memory the further you melted into him. There was only this moment. Anthony unwillingly pulled away, leaving your foreheads pressed against one another, his hair slightly disheveled from your fingers running through it, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed. A deep sigh escaped him before he spoke.

"I would marry you again if I could. Do it all over from the very beginning." His voice slightly wavered at the sentiment; it suddenly weighed on him how much he truly meant it. He wished nothing more than to turn back time and love you the way you deserve from the very beginning. Things would have been so different.

"Anthony, you do not need to embellish. We already married." A chuckle escaped you, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "What?"

"You called me Anthony."

I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fic #bridgerton fic #bridgerton fanfiction #daphne bridgerton #queen charlotte #lady danbury

2K notes · View notes

beelsbignaturals · 11 months

Text

🪼DEMON FORMS: LEVIATHAN🪸

AN: Please check my obey me world building tag for the other posts in this series.

Inspo for this particular post: @bubbiedubs @hotdemonsummer @galoismyhimbo @waltnut @unluckykay

TWs: body horror just to be safe, mentions of mild injury, venom, drowning mention. Demons looking somewhat demonic.

● Lvl 1.5 Starting with our loveable fishy boy, his "half n half" state has the following: a scattering of scales across his body, the biggest concentration is on his shoulders and legs. His teeth are shark-like and super sharp. He accidentally cuts his mouth all the time since he has a nervous habit of chewing on his lips. His freckles (yes, I am a Levi freckle truther) become bioluminescent but only barely. His ears look like fins. He has an extra eyelid for seeing underwater better. He also has a forked tongue. It looks cool as fuck.

When you fuss over the demon, applying salve to the cuts the frequently littering his mouth, his ear fins wiggle ever so slightly. Is it in delight or embarrassment? Both. If the freckles glowing with a pinkish hue across his cheeks are anything to go by. When you exit his room, leaving a small jar of the healing balm behind, you might just hear a mumbled "Thanks, normie" as the door clicks shut.

● Level 2 has an increase in scales. They cover his chest all the way to his neck and down his arms. They start to become more sparse the further away they are from his torso. His horns and tail make an appearance. The bioluminescence is more noticeable, and his eyes glow bright orange in the dark. Oh! And he has visible gills! Other than that, he has everything from his level 1.5 form

You knock on Leviathan's door, having been told to go tell him dinner is ready since he isn't answering his DDD. You hear... sniffling from inside. Being the caring person you are, you crack the door open and softly call out his name. "Levi? You okay?" A large bundle that you thought was a pile of dirty laundry turns out to be a large blanket wrapped around the third born. It's completely dark aside from the illumination from the aquarium and his TV, which is paused on a tragic anime death. The blanket over his head creates even more shadow. The only thing you can see is two blowing orange dots staring straight into your soul. A pathetic sniff comes from the blanket cave, tugging on your heartstrings. Dinner is forgotten as you join the distraught demon on the floor.

● Level 3, everything from the last two but with the addition of his teeth growing longer, becoming more needle-like and his lips all but disappear. Since they would just get in the way of his teeth. He has an extra set of gills on his sides. His horns grow bigger, branching out like coral. He also grows one of those lure things anglerfish have, and his tail gets longer. Both his freckles and the light on the end of the lure glow extremely bright when he blushes. His hands and feet become webbed. His arms and legs start to have delicate looking fins along them. As well as a larger one on his spine. He needs to be kept moist, or his skin will crack, and it's gross and painful. He prefers to be submerged in water, but if he needs to leave his room, just mist him like a plant, and it'll be fine. This is the form he takes after the trivia battle… yay.

Scolding Levi for what feels like the hundredth time today, you toss one of Asmo's many expensive lotions at the demon. If this man doesn't start taking care of himself, you think you might scream. His lure and freckles flash various bright colors as you unceremoniously grab his leg and apply the lotion, being sure not to hurt the fragile frilly gills in the process.

● Level 4. Levi is every sailor's nightmare. If there is a sea monster story? That's probably him. He is completely aquatic like this. Which can be a hassle. For practical reasons, his size is dependent on how much water he has access to. For cute reasons, this means he can be a very tiny nightmare fuel sea serpent and hang out with Henry 2.0 in his aquarium. In theory, you could put him in a glass of water and carry the mini-Levi around with you. THIS GOT WAY TOO CUTE OK, so back to the freaky shit. If given enough water, Leviathan's horns will turn into a fully functional coral reef. Man has his own ecosystem. His teeth are large, thin, and incredibly sharp. They don't all fit in his mouth. He is covered in orange spots similar in shape to a blue ring octopus. And they serve the same function, letting everyone know, "HEY THIS DUDE IS VERY TOXIC" (physically, not emotionally). He secretes a toxin that, if you come into contact with it, it will cause your lungs to fill with water, no matter what environment you are in, until you drown. Luckily, unless he is super emotional, Levi has full control over it and can choose not to poison everyone. I mean, sometimes he will take on this form for funsies (playing with Lotan) so he doesn't need to be constantly secreting magic poison.

"HEY!" You shout at the glass of water in your hand. A certain otaku had a bit of a tantrum and summoned Lotan on school property. It's your job to babysit him while he's in The Timeout Cup. Levi has since calmed down tremendously and is rather playful. By spitting a stream of water at your face. The little shit!

#om! shall we date #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me worldbuilding #obey me levi headcanons #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #shrimp writes

99 notes · View notes

bambiraptorx · 1 year

Text

Raph watched as his dad smiled, turning his face into the rain even as the downpour grew heavier. Well, Draxum's not exactly his dad, not here in the past. It's getting trickier to remember that the longer he's been stuck here.

"Enjoying the rain, huh?" Raph rumbled.

Draxum's face shifted, his previous joy replaced with a subtly pained expression. "I don't get to see it much. We live in a cave, after all." There was a forlornness to his voice, and Raph had to wonder if rain was yet another item on the list of everything that humans had taken away from yokai. He'd never truly thought about how long that list might be until coming to the past.

Raph closed his eyes, letting the sound and smell of the warm shower wash over him. It's peaceful like this, more so than he's felt in years. Even so, there was a tension in his shoulders that wouldn't quite fade, and he rolled them uneasily. Who would have thought that roughly a decade spent fighting off alien invaders would make it so hard to relax? ...Probably Mikey, actually.

He opened his eyes and blinked, his third eyelid automatically sliding down so he could see through the pouring rain. The temperature had shifted slightly, the once warm droplets now cool on his scales. The future had been cold too, grey and empty and alone.

"Hey, Draxum?" Raph asked, suddenly desperate for some sort of conversation to remind him that he wasn't alone, that he wasn't the only mind in a washed-out world filled with the static-y sound of falling rain.

"Hm?"

"Is my eyeliner running?"

Draxum glanced at him appraisingly. "Yes, quite a bit, actually. Will that irritate your eye?"

Shit, Raph didn't think about that at all when he put it on. The skin under his left eye tingled, as if it had been waiting for the suggestion before becoming annoying. Oh well, he'd had worse. Much worse.

The wind picked up, the heavy rainfall flicking harshly against the deadened patch on his face strong enough he could feel the pressure of it. The storm was gathering strength, and the goat yokai next to him shivered slightly.

"I believe it's time for us to head home, Ragnarok," Draxum said.

Raph nodded. "I've had enough rain for today."

Another snippet for my "Raph goes back in time too far AU", continued from this post.

A few things for context:

Raph did not tell Draxum his actual name. He goes by 'Ragnarok' around him (and in the Hidden City in general).

He wears red eyeliner like Casey Sr. did. Also because she did. What can he say, she has great taste.

This particular scene happens after Raph drags Draxum away from his work (creating the oozesquitos, specifically) long enough for them to go to the surface. Raph isn't actively trying to stop Draxum from making the oozesquitos, largely because he doesn't know how that would mess up the timeline.

Yes, Raph is taller than Draxum. Given that snapping turtles never stop growing, the height difference will probably increase.

Feel free to ask questions if you want more info! Just bear in mind that this AU is heavily under construction and I'm still ironing everything out, so details may be a little sparse for now.

#rottmnt #rottmnt au #future raph au #rottmnt raph #rottmnt baron draxum #raphael hamato #i'm not dead yet au #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt fan comic #rottmnt fanfiction #my art #i decided to give raph nose privileges for this one #we'll see if I decide to keep it that way #if the rain looks weird uh no it doesn't

81 notes · View notes

divinemissem13 · 5 months

Text

A Very Voyager Holiday

@25daysofvoyager, day 8 submission.

After years of throwing Voyager's holiday parties, Neelix is surprised to learn that Federation winter holiday traditions include much more than just Christmas trees and Santa Claus.

This one got away from me a little bit... but then, it may have gotten away from Neelix too! Chapter 1 is below, but the full story will be on AO3 (4/5 chapters are already posted). Enjoy!

Chapter 1 “Eureka!” Neelix exclaimed as he finally found the box of Christmas ornaments he had been looking for, crammed into a corner in the cargo bay. Although he had only learned about Christmas once he joined the crew of Voyager, it had quickly become his second favorite holiday (after Prixin, of course!), and he was especially excited this year because Naomi Wildman was old enough now to help him decorate. He couldn’t wait to tell his goddaughter all about Santa Claus and his reindeer, or to see her face when she saw the lights on the Christmas tree for the first time.

In previous years, the tree had been on the holodeck and only available for viewing during the tree trimming party, Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day. Neelix had noticed that many crew members never got the chance to enjoy it because someone always had to keep the ship running. So this year, he had decided to replicate a tree and set it up in the middle of the mess hall where everyone could enjoy it for the entire month.

Recent events (starless voids, failed slipstream drives, endless encounters with hostile aliens) had resulted in a steep decline in crew morale. But Neelix was certain that a month of holiday festivities would go a long way towards lifting everyones’ spirits.

Neelix entered the mess hall, grunting under the weight of the box of decorations as he hefted it onto the nearest table. It wasn’t meal time, so the mess hall was only sparsely occupied with crewmen scattered around reviewing PADDs or enjoying a beverage between shifts. As he scanned the room, Neelix was delighted to see Naomi sitting at a table near the massive pine tree, engrossed in a game of Kadis-kot with Seven. Neelix picked up the heavy box once more and carried it over to their table.

“Well now, how are my two favorite non-Starfleet crew members today?” Neelix said in an exuberant tone that made Naomi giggle and Seven roll her eyes. “How do you like the tree?” he continued, without waiting for an answer. “It’s a big one this year! I hope that we have enough decorations to cover it. If not, we may have to start making some new ornaments!”

In her typical Seven-of-Nine way, the ex-Borg raised an eyebrow at Neelix and excused herself, claiming to have other things to do much more important than decorating for a party. As he watched her leave, it occurred to Neelix that Seven probably didn’t know much about Christmas either. He made a mental note to include her in as much of the festivities as she would allow.

He turned back to Naomi who had begun to pull on his sleeve, trying to get his attention. “Neelix, what about the other holidays?”

Neelix looked at the little girl, quite confused. “Well, they come at different times of the year… you know, Prixin was a few months ago. And then of course Valentine’s Day is coming up and then St. Patrick’s Day…”

“I’m not talking about those ,” Naomi insisted. “I asked my mom about the tree and she said that she didn’t celebrate Christmas when she was a little girl. And neither did my dad. They don’t even have Christmas on Ktaria.”

“Well, I… oh. Hmm. Do you mean that Christmas isn’t a Federation-wide holiday?” Neelix suddenly felt very foolish. He had thought Christmas was just a fun celebration where everyone gives gifts and sings songs. It had never occurred to him that it might have a specific cultural or even religious significance.

“But Ensign Wildman celebrated a different holiday when she was your age?”

Naomi nodded excitedly, “Yes! It’s called Hanukkah and there are games and candles and food and presents too!”

“Well it sounds like you know all about… Ha-nuh-kah?” Neelix said it slowly, trying to sound out the strange word.

“Only a little bit,” Naomi admitted. “Mom says we lit candles in our quarters last year, but I don’t remember. But she promised to tell me the story this year. And teach me how to play the game and everything. You can come too, if you want.”

“Naomi,” Neelix smiled warmly, “I think that is an excellent idea. In fact, that gives me an idea… but let me do some research first and if it pans out, I can tell you all about it!”

“Please, Neelix! Tell me now!” Naomi begged. “I’m old enough!”

Neelix chuckled lightly and his eyes danced with excitement. “I have no doubt that you are, my dear. Just give me until dinner time and if what I’m thinking is correct, you and I will plan a big holiday surprise for the whole crew!”

“Dinner time? You promise ?” Naomi raised an eyebrow skeptically and Neelix briefly wondered if that was a quirk she had picked up from Seven or from Captain Janeway.

“Cross my heart. Now, I’ve got to get working… I’ll see you later, Naomi!” Neelix called as he bustled out of the mess hall to start looking up Federation holidays.

Naomi watched her godfather leave and shrugged before turning to pack up her Kadis-kot board. Maybe Seven of Nine would have time to finish their game before dinner.

@elephant-in-the-pride-parade @gijane-7702 @hanukkahbingo

#25 days of voyager and prodigy #hanukkahbingo #hanukkah #christmas #holidays #festivus #latkes #apple sauce #tradition #heirloom recipe #family #star trek voyager #neelix #naomi wildman #candles #fanfic #i wrote this #ao3 link

11 notes · View notes

what-is-love-babey-dont-hurt-me · 10 months

Text

My brain keeps on lingering over various bits of world building for my sci-fi Kirby au. My previous post might be helpful for context.

The idea of starships so advanced that they can talk to you is fascinating, no?

The old Halcandran language is still spoken on the planet today by small groups. They claim to be descendants of ancient Halcandrans, and with their cooperation, the old language had been translated with accuracy.

“Lor” translates to paradise.

The Paradise Starcutter.

The Lor Starcutter is a paradise, according to the few remaining records talking about the starship. But is it? Other scholars argue that the records of Starcutter ships are meant to be interpreted differently, that they take you to a paradise. This topic has become something of a debate ever since the ruins of Halcandra have become a popular point of interest.

But only the ruins of Halcandra.

There is still life on the planet. New societies have risen in the ashes of the old, many aliens have descended from the stars and found a home amongst volcanoes. The planet is remarkably peaceful compared to others, with a emphasis on technological progress and the pursuit of knowledge. If you didn’t mind the hot weather and storms of ash that can block the sun for months, Halcandra is a nice planet to live on.

This is largely ignored.

Visitors are sparsely receptive to the idea of staying in one of the modern cities, and many are ignorant to Halcandra being more than its ruins and legends.

This galaxy and the people who inhabit it have a blind adoration for tales of long-gone civilizations. Ancient civilizations are put on a pedestal—a pedestal which casts a shadow over any modern accomplishment. Stories of their capabilities take any seed of truth and become embellished facsimiles.

Unlike the tales of the bored Fire People who became gods, stories about Halcandra are more based in truth. To a degree.

Experts who specialize in history of The Ancients say that Halcandra split into societies of magic and technology. This makes sense, of course, since many artifacts suggest that ancient Halcandrans idolize the Fire People, who they called the Fire Gods.

It makes sense that these that they pursued the path to paradise, which modern men seek to retrace. It makes sense that there are no more of The Ancients because they built ships that can reach paradise. It makes sense that The Ancients were capable of magic, even though such feats have not been repeated since. How else did they able to create technology that could reach the Fire Gods?

Modern researchers are sure that if they can learn the magic-technology of the Fire People, of The Ancients, that anyone can ascend into paradise as well.

Ignore how the Fire People never developed advanced technology, and that they died when their planet crumbled. Ignore the overwhelming evidence that The Ancients were locked in a brutal civil war, and that their technology was their own demise.

But there is a seed of truth in these stories.

Technology and engineering were—and still are—heavily valued, and Halcandrans did worship the Fire Gods. At one point their society wished to abandon their volcanic planet to follow in their footsteps.These are two things that historians got correct.

Ships were certainly built to be vessels to a better place, but not to paradise. The idea of paradise meant something different to them than it does to off-planet visitors: in the eye of a Halcandran, Paradise is only achieved through death.

New Halcandrans could tell you as such, and will warn anyone to never board a Lor Starcutter. Paradise is not worth it.

The Ancient Halcandrans named those vessels after paradise to serve as a warning, and it is not unwarranted. Locals have passed down story after story of bright minds who approach paradise and never come back the same. They say that a Lor Starcutter can poison a person’s mind after one encounter. The accounts all note their behaviors become dangerous, their minds falling apart as their bodies waste away.

It is unknown if the side effects are exaggerated or not, but there is one certain truth to the tales. Anyone who boards a Lor Starcutter will eventually never come out.

Visitors who do hear the warnings suspect many things of them. Some take the knowledge of people never coming out as confirmation. Those disappearing passengers must mean that a Lor Starcutter will indeed take its passengers to paradise. Others suspect the warnings are out of greed, that the told tales of doom are spread to keep them away from a treasure. Most often however, warnings are simply passed off as folk tales.

These warnings are disregarded easily.

See, the warnings do not make sense when anyone thinks deeper of them. Why would The Ancients build ships that are paradise, that will take someone to paradise? Why build a passenger ship that is a death trap?

Perhaps that question is best answered with additional knowledge. The important thing to know about Lor Starcutters is this: Halcandrian scientists never developed artificial intelligence.

The idea of a starship so advanced that it can talk is fascinating, yes. However that was—and still is—well beyond the Halcandran scope of possibility. Talking machines have been experimented with, and the crowning achievement in that regard had been a star-blessed clock. One that replied based off a word bank, one that only responded to prompts. Creations like this have no will of their own.

This fact is not well known.

Perhaps if those ambitions visitors, researchers, treasure hunters, and fools had every piece of the puzzle, they would have realized the truth sooner. Unfortunately, it is a well recorded fact that Lor Starcutters do indeed talk. Lor Starcutters have a will of their own.

If The Ancients had not been capable of building machinery with a will of its own, then the conclusion is simple. Lor Starcutters are not starships built by The Ancients.

So what are they?

As mentioned, records consistently note the starships talk to them. The starships indeed have a will of their own. Detailed logs mention Lor Starcutters asking the passenger to leave as little as possible. The early steps on the journey to reach paradise is well known.

Information from people who have boarded the ships and tried to record the experience becomes inconsistent eventually. There is a point where the passengers start to guard any information with a vicious jealousy.

Scholars who try to make sense of the Lor Starcutter interactions speculate that this is out of greed or necessity. This must be the point where they discovered the secret to how to become immortal, how to reach paradise, how to join the Fire Gods. Those people who have encountered a Lor Starcutter must have found whatever the legends had promised them. Passengers who live on the ships are never seen again after this point, so that must be what happened to them… And if you like to live in an idealistic world, perhaps that is all you need to know.

What is a Lor Starcutter exactly? If The Ancients did not build those starships themselves, then who did?

Everyone works under the assumption that they are starships, which is exactly what a Lor Starcutter wants you to think. Calling them starships is incorrect, however. There is no starship so advanced that it can talk to you, and Lor Starcutters built themselves.

Cunning creatures who are made of metal-like plates, who can talk through the mind, who can shift and mold their body into any shape, who can survive the depths of space in a slumber, who feed off of like energy. Creatures such as these already exist in the form of Parasites, and have existed again.

Parasites, of course had key differences from these creatures. These creatures are ambush predators with wings that can sail the stars and eyes that can see past atmospheres .

Long ago outside of the atmosphere of ancient Halcandra, such a creature had been observing the planet when it hatched a plan. This creature noticed starships that were always leaving the planet. The creature noticed that people would walk on board without a second thought, and it wondered if it could simply get prey to walk into its mouth.

The creature contorted it’s body into a mockery of those passenger starships, and it’s brethren watched with interest.

The cunning creature had been correct, because it was boarded without question. In order to keep its prey entertained, to keep them from leaving the jaw of the beast, the creature had to be diligent.

The creature, ever so clever, It created illusions of paradise inside the vessel. It talked to each passenger like a friend. In their minds, the inside of the ship was infinite, and they could open any door to a new world as long as the the secret was never revealed. In their minds, the passengers had ascended to the live with Fire Gods.

Reality would reveal that the creature had been slowly leeching their life force, taking them to paradise. The passengers are never seen again.

The creature’s brethren change their form and descend as well, a fleet of deadly starships to lure anyone who dared to dream of a better place into a slow death.

Stories of Paradise Starcutters were soon whispered across that volcanic planet. At one point Halcandrans had wanted to join the Fire Gods and find a better place, but surely the ships which killed their passengers were a sign of their rejection. The Fire Gods had shunned the Halcandran people, they would never find that better place, and this was the beginnings of a civil unrest that would eventually turn into war.

Knowing the truth of the Lor Starcutters might be helpful for someone like Magolor.

He had a troubled life, and believed he deserved a better place. This cat-like alien is enamored with the tales of Halcandra, he is willing to claw his way to the top and ascend to the throne of the Fire Gods.

One of the New Halcandrans, a four headed reptilian adorned with a sharp golden crown jeweled with a moving eye, had tried to warn Magolor.

Landia had been ignored.

Magolor disregarded everything, of course. Landia, who knows the truth of everything, did not take it well. The alien felt all four of their heads simmer in anger as Magolor left to pursue his doom.

On top of those four heads was another alien who watched the foolish man leave to his paradise. The crown blinked as she contemplated the situation.

Years ago, Landia had met a massive golden creature with many eyes and a hunger for life force that was buried under volcanic rock for eons, simply sleeping time itself away. The creature had been confused at waking up in a time so different, but Landia had been so helpful, and so she decided to make an offer to the four-headed alien. The golden creature would give guidance and power to them, if they agreed to give her energy and a companion.

Two became One, and Landia had been strong enough to establish a symbiotic relationship rather than waste away like most would when merging with a Parasite. The two shared minds, and Landia realized the Fire Gods did not exist and never have. The search for paradise was a fool’s errand.

Landia knew more than he ever would.

Their Parasite, who was named Master Crown, noted how upset their companion had been, and she urged Landia to stop the foolish traveler before it was too late.

Landia had listened, and set off across the volcanic wasteland to the cursed site they had been warned to never approach. The Lor Starcutter should have been dark and cold, it should have been impersonating lifeless metal, but it was pulsing with life, about to ascend into space. Landia knew they were too late. In frustration, they used Master Crown to lash out at the hull of the deceptive creature.

Their outburst left a deep, bleeding gash across the hull of the Lor Starcutter. Master Crown had leeched as much life force as she could as her companion struck, and the most she could do it hope that is enough for the creature to cough up the poor passenger.

There is one less Lor Starcutter littering the volcanic landscape of Halcandra, but Landia had learned something valuable. Their whole life, Lor Starcutters seemed untouchable, but the cursed ships could bleed. After loosing Magolor to his ambition, Landia would set off on a journey with Master Crown to stop it from ever happening again. No more Lor Starcutters would be left to trap unsuspecting victims

Landia’s mission to remove these invasive creatures from the planet was the ire of many ambitious researchers, but would eventually earn them the title of a Hero. There had not been someone to earn such a high title in Halcandran society since ancient times, and it was only reserved for people who are seen as saviors to the planet.

Sometimes Landia would think back to the traveler Magolor, and they hope that someone managed to save his sorry soul.

#sci-fi au #space oddity au #Kirby #magolor #Landia (kirby)#lor starcutter #master crown #this is pure rambling I hope it’s comprehensible #SO MANY THOGUTHS ABOUT THIS!!#but yeah Lor Starcutters are fun space monsters who disguise as ships because it’s a fun concept #AND LANDIA MY BELOVED!! they will get along with Meta and Galaxia if those two ever meet #anyways I’m open to questions for this :0

19 notes · View notes

canmom · 11 months

Text

L’Aventur de Canmom à Annecy - Jeudi 1: Art College 1994

Woke up super late today - turns out you can’t run on 5 hours sleep a night, who knew. Rip to another chance to see Mars Express lmao

The silver lining is that I can write more about Stuff Wot I Did At Annecy.

First thing on Thursday, I joined my friend to watch Art College 1994 dir. Jian Liu. This donghua was pretty different from most donghua I’ve seen, which have tended towards mythology and fantasy - it’s a very grounded slice of life about a handful of students at (can you guess) an art college in 1994.

The main characters are two painter boys and two musician girls, and the film consists of a lot of long conversations - a lot about art, modernity and the influence of western art movements vs traditions, conceptual art, what the purpose of art is, how and where to try to get renown, etc., but also what to do with their lives, whether to leave China, relationships, etc etc. And while the film doesn’t put a lot of weight on historical context, we do see the effects of China opening up in the post-Deng period: characters will covet Japanese sound systems, visitors come from America and Taiwan, and the young students are fascinated by Western modernist art movements, which they see as progress.

It’s very naturalistic: characters will ask questions and not answer them, and we will see carefully depicted everyday activities, eating, washing, sleeping etc. In this it reminded me a lot of the films of Richard Linklater (AN120), such as Waking Life.

Before the film, the director came on stage to say that this film was his way of showing respect to this generation. So perhaps there is an element of nostalgia. But mostly I got the feeling that the students in the 90s in China were much the same as students of every generation.

The animation style was interesting. The character designs are so realist and consistently drawn that I wonder if rotoscoping was involved, but the movement does not feel like roto at all, so perhaps rather than roto it’s just heavy photo reference? Or maybe the animators are just that good at drawing lol. The drawing count is very low (not surprising with all the detail), but the motion we see is in general very carefully observed and naturalistic - there’s rarely anything really flashy but it’s very consistent. It’s a film that could easily have been done in live action, but given the theme about art, it’s interesting to present these characters as constructed drawings.

The backgrounds deserve special praise. They must be heavily photoreferenced, but they’re insanely detailed line drawings with mostly flat colours, which gives a very strong effect. I don’t know if they had some kind of digital posterisation shortcut but it honestly looks too good for that; it makes the cuts to nature and the sense of place extremely strong. The amount of effort to make them must have been extraordinary. The music too, while sparse, is very effective when it’s deployed. Overall the film really captures a feeling, of a moment of undetermined possibility.

The film ends on an ambiguous note, but after-credits text tells you what became of all of the characters, which felt like a bit of a misstep. Nevertheless... the pacing is slow and it’s definitely one I think you need to be in the right mood to see, but overall I enjoyed this film. I’m definitely curious to check out Jian Liu’s previous films. And it’s exciting to see donghua branching out from mythological films - don’t get me wrong I love the mythological films but I would love to see donghua become as diverse as anime.

#l'aventure de canmom à annecy #annecy film festival #annecy #animation #donghua #film #art college 1994

14 notes · View notes

denialcity · 2 years

Text

to accept the will of heaven (6/?)

by @denialcity and @firecoloredwater; beta’d by @silverutahraptor

1651 words, unconventional red eyes are blessed AU, gen, Izuna-centric, Mada&Izu, Tobi&Izu, Uchiha traditions/religion worldbuilding

Chapter specific warnings: Izuna begins the crow trials!

(Blessed Sacrifice au tag on tumblr) (read on Ao3) (chapter 1) (chapter 5)

Chapter 7 will be posted on 7 July!

===

Izuna packs his mission equipment and supplies as soon as Airi leaves, then spends much of the rest of the night pouring over Mother's journal for hints about the crow trials. The trials are never mentioned, maybe because Mother had already passed them when she began the journal, but Izuna finds several mentions of people with unfamiliar names. Some of them she explicitly calls crows and the rest Izuna assumes must be, because who else could Mother have been talking to?

I am uncertain whether Nori does not understand that humans do not eat worms, or simply finds it funny to drop them on me anyway….

Shikei played dead again after today's battle, and laughed at me for worrying. She gave me a broken shuriken as an apology. As if I don't have enough already! And she will do it again. I will have to choose a place to keep them.

Shiori is quite vain, and altogether too invested in propriety—it is as if a mockery of my Meguru sits on my shoulder and scolds me. And yet no other crow can see as far, so I must put up with it. I cannot think how I will manage.

Yatagarasu-sama still treats me as if I am a child. I suppose at his age we all must be and so it is understandable, but I find it grating nonetheless….

It doesn't give details about the trials at all, only vague hints about being a virtuous person. Izuna understands that it's not really right to tell the secret of the trials, but his growing nervousness made him annoyed that the hints couldn't have been more helpful.

At dawn, he is in the courtyard waiting, not knowing what to expect. The morning air is fresh and misty. Birds and insects sing, and the koi in the pond swim in graceful arcs to chase the food he scattered for them.

Without warning, there is a jerk in his guts, and he is falling, but not in any direction he can describe. It's like he is falling into himself, like he is falling into the universe, his lungs winding tighter and tighter with no air to breathe—

On the other side, he's standing on the side of a jagged mountain; on one of the lowest false peak clusters of round-top mountains that rise steep and picturesque before capping off gently. The stone is a rich brick red, and the trees are gnarled, crooked things with sparse dark brushes of long needles that feel like the mustaches of wise old men, like Izuna should bow to them before a lesson. There are many waterfalls, but in the distance is one that shines, pouring down to become clouds which catch the sun. It looks like an ink painting if ink paintings could move and were made of precious stones.

"Good morning," a refined voice says.

Izuna's balance wavers as he spins and looks up to see a fully grown crow looking down at him from the branches of a gnarled tree. She is barely visible in the dark, just a patch of extra-black feathers with a faintly red sheen, like polished stone.

She bobs her head in a little bow. "I am today's guide, Shiori. It's very nice to meet you, I'll be in your care."

Suddenly feeling like he'd been caught in rough playing clothes when he came home and Father had guests who had to be greeted, Izuna bows and fumbles through his greeting. "Morning, I'm Izuna. I'll be in your care." He winces at how poorly spoken his words were to his own ear and Shiori's feathers ruffle.

Altogether too invested in propriety, Mother had written. But Izuna needs her to like him.

"I will lead you to Yatagarasu-sama," she says. "You cannot fly, so the schedule will be difficult, unfortunately. There will be little time for you to rest, Izuna-san."

"Please proceed as Shiori-san deems suitable," Izuna replies, which she seems to find polite enough.

Shiori sets a punishing pace, barely visible flying above the dark canopy as Izuna runs through the rough terrain below. But this wouldn't be a test if it were easy, and Izuna is a shinobi, so he tightens the straps of his pack and keeps up, regulating his breathing and chakra so he can go as long as he has to.

Shiori may have raised concerns because Izuna could not fly, but the terrain here would have been near impossible for a non-shinobi. The red-brown cliff faces are nearly vertical, and many times, Shiori lands at the top of the cliff to wait for him, even as he climbs as quickly as he can. Every time, she is rested when he reaches the top, panting heavily. They set off again almost immediately, Izuna having to mind his footing on the crumbling earth or the mud where the many little streams and smaller waterfalls wet the ground.

It is a test. It is meant to be unfair. But it will not be impossible. Izuna grits his teeth and keeps going.

Time in this space feels strange, like clear jelly, thick and changing the quality of the light. Izuna doesn't know how long he runs, doesn't want to think about it. He just keeps looking up to glance at Shiori, looking down to check his footing, looking ahead to make sure he selected the best way forward, looking up again.

The forest is very quiet, mostly filled by Izuna's heavy breathing. High, high above and nearly inaudible are Shiori's wingbeats. Sometimes the babble or whisper of water.

Then, a loud piercing cry that makes Izuna jump and nearly lose his footing. He stumbles, bracing hard against one of the old gnarled trees that seem to be the only kind in this forest. The rough bark scratches his hands and the knots and twists leer at him almost like faces. The cry rings through the forest, eerie and agonized.

"What the—?" Izuna asks, out of breath, shivering again. The sound sticks in his spine, shrill and like a death cry. "Shiori-san?"

She swoops down, flaring her wings to land on the tree.

Another cry, louder, closer. Izuna shudders, turning towards it.

"Shiori-san," Izuna says. "What was that?"

She tilts her head.

"We are on a schedule," she says. Her dark, beady eyes are cold. The gleam of them is inhuman.

She doesn’t remind Izuna of Meguru at all. Meguru was always kind. Maybe that was what Mother meant by calling her a mockery.

Izuna bites his lip.

"I know," he says. "But, shouldn't we check? It might be another crow."

He doesn't know very much about how summoning realms worked, but from the stories, they always seemed to only have that one type of summon animal.

"Izuna-san is free to do as he wishes. But this humble guide only reminds him of the schedule," Shiori says primly. "There will be consequences."

That awful cry again, obviously in pain. Izuna swallows.

"Just give me five minutes," he bargains.

"Two, and we shall have to make up the time by going faster," she counter-offers.

"Fine," Izuna says, already turning away. "Agreed."

Two minutes is not much time, so Izuna sprints, using more chakra to make up for already being winded. Shiori remains on the tree.

The cry sounds again, quite nearby. Izuna throws himself forward. There are only gnarled trees and smooth earth, a small stream, a wad of dark feathers—

Izuna stops short, flipping and landing on a tree trunk to narrowly avoid stepping on a small crow with a rock on its wing.

The crow looks at him. It's bigger than Airi, but fluffed up in fear so it looks nearly as large as Shiori-san.

"Hey." Izuna steps down from the tree. "Are you alright? I'll get that rock off you."

The crow huddles down.

"Help," it croaks.

"Yeah, hang in there," Izuna says, gently touching the rock. It’s quite heavy, heavier than it looks, and birds have light bones, don’t they? "Hey, you're gonna be alright. I'm Izuna, what's your name?"

"Daisuke," the crow answers.

"Nice to meet you Daisuke-san," Izuna replies. "I'm just going to lift this rock away, yeah?"

He talks to the bird in a low voice, just pleasantries and nonsense, like the healers did when he had a fever, or hurt himself really badly while training. (He doesn't scold. He doesn't know how this happened, if Daisuke did something stupid to hurt himself or not, but the wing looks crumpled beneath the rock. It must hurt really bad.)

Daisuke cries out as Izuna lifts the rock away, and shuffles away slightly, slowly. His wing drags on the ground at an awful angle and Izuna winces, putting the rock down to one side.

"You did great. Are you going to be fine by yourself?" Izuna asks.

The crow fluffs again. Shuffles the awkward walk that birds have on the ground.

"I think it's broken," Daisuke croaks pathetically, looking at him.

Izuna bites his lip.

"Can you carry me home?" Daisuke asks pleadingly. "Trade you a favor."

Oh, he asked.

Izuna had been raised as a son of the head family all the way through, and that meant a responsibility to all the lower houses in the clan. If someone needed help, the head family was meant to serve.

Daisuke is not Uchiha, but neither is Izuna now, and if he really is going to be a summoner to the crows, wouldn't he have to take responsibility for the ones he called?

"It's okay," Izuna says even though he's very tired. The thought of going down the mountain and back up again trying to find a disapproving Shiori in the dark, assuming she waited for him at all, is heartbreakingly discouraging, but it’s not like he has a choice. He can’t leave Daisuke there. "I'll do it. You don't have to trade. Just tell me where to go."

===

A/N: "I'll be in your care." This was a context-specific attempt at translating "yoroshiku onegaishimasu". This phrase is difficult to translate as its exact meaning is contextual but it is often used when meeting new people, or when starting a group school project/some work with people you might already know. It generally conveys a polite request to be treated favorably in the future (eg. please buy a product/service or start or continue a relationship (personal/business etc)).

Crows

Meguru 運 (luck/destiny)(listed in chapter 4 notes) was the second of Madara and Izuna's brothers. He was also the clan's favorite, and generally considered to be the best diplomat and problem solver as well as the most beautiful of the brothers. Unfortunately he was also the weakest fighter, and his death caused Takami (the eldest of the brothers and original heir) to develop mangekyou, then die in a suicidal attack on the clan that killed Meguru. Madara was mourning both of them when he met Hashirama.

Nori 海苔 (seaweed) — this crow likes worms

Shikei 死刑 (death penalty) — this is an inauspicious name and would normally never be used but crows find different things amusing also this one has a nasty sense of humour

Shiori 祉栞 (welfare, bookmark/guide) — adult female crow who guides Izuna

Daisuke 大祐 (big, help/aid/protection (divine connotations)) — male juvenile crow who Izuna rescues during his trial

Yatagarasu 八咫烏 (eight-span crow/giant crow) — boss of crow summons. From Japanese (and Chinese and I think also Korean) mythology, its appearance is construed as evidence of the will of Heaven or divine intervention in human affairs. It has associations with rebirth and the sun. The word Yatagarasu most literally translates as "eight-span crow." The number eight in Japanese numerology can mean "many"/"a multitude", or it can mean "perfect"/"supreme". So contextually Yatagarasu may mean "giant crow"/"large crow" or "Supreme Divine Crow"/"Perfect Divine Crow."

Meguru and Takami also both live rent free in our heads, but that's a separate issue.

===

(Blessed Sacrifice AU tag on tumblr)

Prologue fic: (in the beginning) (on Ao3)

This fic: (read on Ao3) (chapter 1) (chapter 5)

#uchiha izuna #uchiha madara #naruto founders #naruto fanfic #naruto fanfiction #blessed sacrifice au #OCs #uchiha atsumi #uchiha meguru #made in denialcity

14 notes · View notes

marinakaefer · 1 year

Text

Alright, that's it for my queue! This successfully marks almost 5 months of daily posts w/ my old art :> from this point on my posts will be a lot more sparse as I post stuff as I finish it - and I'm pretty busy this year, so this blog will get a bit quieter

I'll most likely also post a few more sketches here and there, and I might also throw some self-reblogs into the queue once in a while, but I'll try to space things out so that it doesn't become annoying :>

See yall around in 2023, now with 2023 art!

(further gushing beyond the Read More)

PS a huge thank you to everyone who followed me since I started this blog and/or interacted with my post in any way (including silent lurkers who scroll past)

I know it sounds cheesy, but it genuinely means a lot!

As a teen, I actually quickly stopped posting my art online because I felt like I was just sending things into the void, without anyone ever seeing them. (At some point, making posts just felt like wasted effort, and showing things to my friends directly just had more of a payoff, I suppose.)

Today, after roughly 5 years of not posting art on any public sites, I have a much more healthy outlook on notes. So thankfully, 0-note fandom art would definitely not bum me out that much anymore! Still, knowing that a handful of people actually see my art is still a wonderful feeling, and very encouraging me to keep this blog at least semi up-to-date <3

(Turns out that yelling into the void is a lot more fun when that void gives you a thumbs-up once in a while, haha)

But yeah!! Thank you guys for interacting with my posts! It def helps me keeping up with my plan of having at least some form of online achieve for my art (aka a tumblr blog in this case) <3

#marina talks #I'm also considering making a couple posts with old art from my small pile of Rather Suggestive drawings #but I'm still mulling that one over haha #either way if you've got that kinda content blocked on tumblr through the community labels then u wont see it #so nothing to worry about there #me: warns about possible 18+ content in my blog description #also me: 'but what if i scare people away by posting a tiddy or two? :c'

4 notes · View notes

afieldinengland · 3 months

Note

Most beloved one, how happy I am to hear from you! These last months hadn't been easy for me, both because of the usual turning of Earth (I am a creature of sunlight and in the most biological of senses I simply suffer in winter darkness, and the emotional toil of things ending rarely helps) and because of yet another career change. I am glad for both, as it's only natural, but as you may have grasped from my sparse messages, it was a difficult time.

Hearing from you after such a long time brought me so much joy though! Sweetest, sweetest, most beautiful boy! I can't believe I have the honour of knowing you and calling myself your lover! It's one of those wonders that become common after some time, but the moment you're deprived of it, you suddenly appreciate it even more than earlier. My heart sings with joy today, thank you, my wild one!

Ever yours (rather maimed and mutilated, to quote Oscar Wilde, but happy and with hope in my heart again)

- Herb Wine Anon

treasured one, i’m so relieved that after being apart for so long with separate troubles, we are returned to our old correspondence again 💓 how i have missed you, my lilac. i am so sorry to hear the last months have been such a time of upheaval for you. even a positive change is change nonetheless, and i’m so proud of you for dealing with the challenges it brings. and a career change, how exciting!! i hope it has been easy to settle in. i only hope my silence did not add to that burden. to answer your pause in writing with my own was not right of me, even as i have contended with the turn of the earth myself. but my lover, we have made it almost to the end of january, and spring begins to beckon already in its small ways— how fitting, in a sense, for our letters to blossom again!! thank you, a thousand times over, for taking me back into your arms after such a silence. i know exactly what you mean, by the nature of deprivation and return— the smile that spread upon my face to see you call me beautiful boy, your boy, all over again, felt like the beltane sun come early. honeyheart, ‘dearest of all created things’, i’m so happy you saw my post about wilde’s letters to bosie. i hope you know they made me think of you, and how rare a love through letters really is. sweet one, i’m so happy to be back

#answered #lover!! how gracious and how kind you are to take back a mad pagan boy to your arms and table and bedside #herb wine anon #your boy 💓

0 notes

nickgerlich · 1 year

Text

The Reel Truth

The evolution of social media continues, because at the end of the day, it is a battle for our eyeballs. Eyeballs translate into ad sales, which means profits. And that’s good, right? Well, especially for management and the shareholders. That’s the whole idea.

It’s just that there are more players than there were 15 years ago, when Facebook could out-muscle Twitter by simply allowing 420 characters instead of Twitter’s then-140. This was followed by images, then video. Do any of you even remember when Twitter was so sparse on features that there were a slew of third-party providers that actually hosted your images and videos?  Oh, life was really simpler back then.

Things started to become complicated when SnapChat hit the internet in 2011, although it would take several years for it to gain traction. It was SnapChat’s Stories feature, though, that really took the world by storm. Their disappearing posts caught on, and suddenly Facebook and Instagram had to respond, because they were losing young users.

In 2015, Periscope debuted, and was quickly purchased by Twitter. Its redeeming value, if you will, was live-streaming. Once again, Facebook mimicked it, and the world was treated to synchronous video. That feature has shrunk in popularity, though, and Periscope was actually discontinued in 2021.

And then there’s TikTok, the controversial Chinese-owned app that debuted in 2016, although its ascendency is coincident with the pandemic. I guess we all just had too much time on our hands. Their Reels took the world by storm, quirky little videos that—at least back then—lasted a minute, and could be saved in perpetuity.  

Once again, Facebook and Instagram (by then known collectively as Meta) had to respond. The result today is a mashup of old and new, but with a decided preference for all things video.

Meta just announced that Reels on Facebook and Instagram (which can conveniently be cross-posted from one to the other) can now be 90 seconds in length. And this while TikTok has extended its maximum to 10 minutes.

While Stories and Reels may look the same to the casual viewer, Stories still have a shelf life of only 24 hours, and are only viewable by those who follow or have friended you. In other words, they reside within the bubble of your regulars. Reels, though, are saved on your profile page, and are public, viewable by anyone. In other words, they burst that bubble, and become an excellent way for influencers to expand their reach and be discovered by many others.

While we will probably always have the standard old-school newsfeed with text and images, Stories and Reels are clearly the runaway emphasis for both users and platforms alike. In fact, Reels are the fastest-growing part of social media now. And at a time when Kanye West’s Parler, Donald Trump’s Truth Social, and the left-leaning Tribel have sought to polarize social media, Stories and Reels are actually a breath of fresh air.

Cue the golden retrievers, pythons, crazy Asian truck drivers, and the rest, it’s all entertainment, and from my perspective, all relatively benign.

Of course, none of this has gone unnoticed by corporations who wish to have the same benefits of reach. You can always tell a Reel that is from a corporation, because they are polished and look like they spent a fair amount of time being created within the Adobe environment. They are not raw and gritty like what someone like—I dunno, me?—would post. After all, I have a day job, and don’t have staff.  

With the trend toward longer Reels, though, it is almost like we have rediscovered YouTube. Whereas their original videos were five minutes or shorter, now the sky is the limit. And with Reels growing ever longer, we are being treated to—or having to endure—presentation-length clips.

Text and images, though, are old hat. They are being deprecated in favor of motion pictures, no matter how unprofessional they have been created. Video can dramatically affect your account’s stats because of exposures and engagements. It is safe to say that video is killing the photograph star.

And it means I need to keep moving in this direction. If I am going to teach this stuff, I need to be an active user. I’ve been posting a lot of Stories lately, along with Reels. And the analytics I am getting in return verify everything I just said above. This is where it is all going.   The only problem is that, whereas shooting stills doesn’t take much time, shooting video does. And then there’s having some kind of production idea in mind before you even start.

Yeah. For a once-a-day Instagrammer, my work flow has increased dramatically.

I once spent only a few minutes photographing my subject, usually a quaint vintage neon sign. Now I spend 15 minutes or more doing multiple takes to get it right, having “written” a script in my head on the fly. It’s not easy, and while having done a ton of podcasts and TV appearances in the past finds me comfortable doing this, it just takes time.  

I’m just wondering what the Next Big Thing in social media will be. I don’t know that I have much more time to spend being a content creator. Maybe 140 wasn’t so bad after all.

Dr “Already Visualizing Tomorrow’s Post“ Gerlich

Audio Blog

#marketing #Reels #Stories #social media

0 notes

ram-de · 2 years

Text

friend

i met a highschool friend who attended the same college as i am today. turned out we shared a same subject (different class) and since there's like a shared class today... i met her.

i was surprised at first. mostly because i didn't expect it and i haven't prepared anything to talk to. we used to talk during our first year, me and the other students from the same high school. sparsely, sure, but we met a lot. and then the year after that, pandemic hits.

i had some self-image issues during that whole thing and i lost confident in myself. i became so afraid of thinking how people would think about me. i felt like i am of no worth, to talk and to interact with people. and even if i did, i would compare myself to them. i stopped using social media except messaging apps, and i guess that contribute me being distant. i wasn't that close before, but with me distancing myself even more, the anxiety and insecurities dwelled more as well. i've reverted back, no, i've became a worse version of me.

i felt like i'm always left behind. from the other three students here from the same high school. they walked their own path. they could adapt well, making friends, joining non-academic communities. and i assume they're still in contact too, unlike me who i guess ghosted everyone. i used to got really sad seeing people insta post being all lively and fun. and i tend to, like, compare myself. see how much of a coward and ugly loner i am. haha... i feel like i cried few times because of how bad my self-esteem was that time. compared to them, i feel like i'm a stagnant person. i haven't changed, i haven't grew. in fact, maybe i've become worse.

i used to want to be so connected. i didn't lie when i said i also used to be so excited that my heart beats when they messaged me, and i spend a really long time thinking for a proper response. even if it's for just asking stuff or something. i guess i wanted to be friend. but truth is, i've separated myself. i've created myself a huge, tall wall between us. i've put people i admired, people i liked, people i look up to on a mighty pedestal way above me. i see them for their brilliance, i see them for their achievement, i see them for their amazement, maybe so much that i couldn't see myself like properly being around them. it's hard to think that they're also a human, like me, and surely they have a side behind all the shines. everyone else does.

i'm happy that i met her today. i really do. i talked a bit about catching up maybe. what she goes up to, and stuff like that. but there's this air around me, i kept being distracted by how many people she knew that she could just approach and stuff. and how she's still mostly connected with our highschool friends. see. i keep comparing myself. i feel like i'm so behind... that it's embarassing to meet them.

i know everyone have their own path to walk on to. but sometime i just feel so small, so worthless, and yeah... i'm sure they're good people... heck three of us went through lots of competition together and stuff... and it's too late to be friends that go through college together haha...

i know it's something i have to fix by myself... the way i see myself, the way i see people, the way i treated myself, the way i treated people... but it's such a struggle... i felt like i'm better than the me who is in a slump last year, but even so i still am the anxious and cowardly me...

ahh... i turned the mood of the day sour... i'm sorry. even though it's supposed to be such a happy day talking to a friend. ahh...

#pouringrams

1 note · View note

missratcityrebel · 2 years

Text

Diary of a Whore

Day 1,

I’m at my wits end. My whole life I’ve lived doing everything everyone else has wanted me to do. I got married to the man I was told to marry which ended up in years of cheating, mental and physical torture, isolation which let to complete financial control and loss of family and the after affects of a poisoning. I managed to leave. To get out. I saw enough movies about women who “got out” and managed to obtain resources and who’s plans all worked and boom FREEDOM. Let me assure you that is absolutely not my experience. My first day out I was met with finding a place to temporarily hold up. I timed it so it was at the beginning of everything opening, masks coming off and where there was a glimpse of normalcy being restored in what was an almost post-apocalyptic Seattle. What seemed like the perfect time to meet a new beginning with the rest of the world was quickly ended and like a period falling out of nowhere in the middle of the sentence we were back to square one. Because of the “second wave”, being kept out of the work force and society like I was a dirty secret, obtaining work fell flat and I then found myself at the doorsteps of DSHS. With little money left in my reserve I humbled myself to asking for state help. I was granted a food card, and eventually got myself on a waiting list for housing. That’s to catch you up to here. Today. Day 1. Spending years of my life doing the right things, keeping quiet, honoring thy husband and all that bullshit that we as “ladies” are supposed to knock ourselves down to.

-- I’m from a different country Seattle, not everyone in the world is so progressive they’re actually censoring the rights to live and be and act as one’s will would have it, as you are Seattle--

I began to think... I’ve done all these things the right way, never took risks, although my appearance would have it seem otherwise, never hurt anyone, never stepped out of the bounds of what should be known as obvious integrity for personal gain. Generally speaking I’ve just been a normal person who met the fate of a husbands fist instead of his lips. Now I’m broke and need a break.

Escorting is one of the oldest means to make ends in the world, heck this very city was built on the profits of prostitutes. So why have we become more sexually oppressed then that of people in the 1800′s when sickness was more rampant and healthcare was sparse. I understand the generalized belief that sex work is always associated with trafficking, but like with the legalization of marijuana what if legalizing prostitution actually cuts down arrests, improves the economy and cuts down on trafficking because an escort is easily accessible? I began to think hell, how many times in my life have I went home with a guy from a bar had meaningless sex never to hear from him again? Or went out to dinner and slept with him that evening. If I want to take the value of the dinner monetarily instead of eating if I’m going to sleep with the dude why isn’t that a choice I have.

Then I started researching... and researching... I’m a beautiful woman, with a great body, I get approached by men all the time. I’m broke, I can’t get help from the government, I’m facing the streets yet again, I don’t do drugs, I have a degree in accounting and can’t get hired so why not get paid to date? I don’t even know how to go about doing this but the thought kind of excites me, is it bad that thinking about doing something so dirty is somehow consuming my thoughts?

Stay tuned to Diary of a Whore to see what she does next

#literaturesoaps #progressivestorywriting #fictionblogs #fiction

0 notes

dawnrider · 2 years

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

I got this from @anisaanisa, @clearwillow , and an Anon, so thank you all for thinking of me!! Sorry I'm so late getting it posted. Life... Happened. 😅 Sick kiddos, sick me... I won't do 15, (that would be way too self indulgent) but I'll do 8!

1. Your Lying Smile is currently my longest fic and will likely stay my longest. With influence from @heavenin--hell for the InuParents chapters in the middle, this story really blossomed into more than I initially expected. An AU without time travel where Kagome and Inuyasha meet just as unexpectedly, but circumstances get out of hand quickly and suddenly they're in a forced marriage situation. I'd never tried an arranged or accidental marriage scenario before, so this was a leap for me.

2. How Does Your Garden Grow? I dedicated to @superpixie42 for her birthday as she has been my biggest cheerleader for this fic. I have really enjoyed winding the characters we know and love from the Inuyasha universe into the world of Howl's Moving Castle. It's also my first attempt at some variation of a slow burn. XD

3. To Sleep Perchance to Dream is my "Epic" which might out-word count YLS eventually if I can finish it properly. I really enjoy taking the original story and twisting it into a modern context. Big thank you to @neutronstarchild for cheering me on for this one and commissioning art of Kagura from the amazing @kalcia.

4. Novel Encounters was a Tumblr prompt gone wild that got major influence from Kamikaze by Walk the Moon and a talk through with @lemonlushff. It also features some amazing art by the talented @thunderpot depicting a scene from Kagome's graphic novel that's actually a scene from another story of mine. 🤫

5. King of Anything (originally first in the Series) essentially came to me in a dream and was initially very much inspired by the song of the same name by Sara Bareilles. Another modern AU with a more confident Inuyasha and Kagome. It's become the root for a prequel, a continuation and a one-shot, with an eventual sequel.

6. Given was, at one point, a "crowd favorite" but most importantly it has a place in my heart as the story that connected me with several artists and other writers in the Tumblr and Discord spheres. If I hadn't posted it and tried posting about it on my then very sparse Tumblr account, I may not have made some of the fandom friends I have today. ❤️❤️❤️

7. Return to Me (First in the Series) is very dear to me as it deals with the after effects of TBI, a serious condition and one that my profession works with. I wanted to explore the idea of "what if we actually applied real physics to the world of Inuyasha?" and "what if it happened on Inuyasha's human night?"

8. By Rights is my first real foray into an InuParents-only story. I am loving the premise of a Witcher-esque universe where Touga and Izayoi meet under less than ideal circumstances and Izayoi is the one making the effort to woo the reluctant inuyoukai. It has multiple pieces from the dynamic @nartistadigital, including some I haven't posted chapters for yet. XD

#Fic Authors Self Rec #dawnrider fanfiction #Tooting my own horn #inuyasha fanfiction

62 notes · View notes

batwritings · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 8 - Degradation

Howdy friends! I know I've been rather sparse here as life has been throwing me for a bit of a tailspin, but I did wanna post the bits I did for Kinktober in my server! So here's day 8 with our resident ram man! Enjoy~!

!WARNING! As the prompt is for degradation, there will be degrading words in this work. Please be careful when reading!

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

From the moment you got up that morning, you knew what your goal was. The president of Manburg made it obvious every day that he had a thing for you. From the moment he laid eyes on you it was comment after sexual comment, flirtation after flirtation. You didn’t want to make it obvious that you weren’t interested in the ram hybrid, but today that was gonna change.

You made it your personal goal to make the president’s day a living hell with how much you were going to tease him. Everything had gone to plan from the moment you first saw him that day; from his hungry gaze to his little quips that you “ignored” in favor of doing something or saying something back that would drive him nuts. But wow was this not how you expected the end of your day to go.

You barely register the pain of your back hitting the wall behind you. Schlatt has you pinned, his hand around your neck, not enough to cause pain but certainly enough for you to know he means business for once in his presidency. “You’ve been teasing me all. Fucking. Day slut.” he growls, the smell of alcohol pertinent on his breath. “You got anything to say for yourself?”

You smirk up at him, rolling your eyes to the side in mock contemplation. “Hmm,” you hum, voice teasing as it has been. “I dunno...maybe ‘is it working yet’?”

The ram hybrid looks baffled by your response for the smallest split second before he’s growling and adding more pressure to your neck. His knee slots between your thigh, right up against your sex and has you moaning breathlessly. “All that showin’ off and you moan like a bitch the minute you grind on my knee?” He laughs cruelly. “Fuckin’ pathetic.”

Despite his mean words, Schlatt still rocks himself forward and back a bit to give you the most miniscule of friction. It’s enough to have you bucking your hips, whining and whimpering as you grab onto his arm. You send him a pleading look so he loosens his grip on your throat. “Speak slut.”

“Please daddy!” You cry, vocal cords no longer restricted. “Please fuck me!”

Schlatt leans in close, breath fanning across your cheeks. “You think a filthy mutt like you gets the pleasure of getting fucked by me?” He asks you gruffly. “No. Teasing little whores like you get to cum from humping my thigh like the desperate bitch in heat you are or not at all.”

With his hand around your throat again, knee firmly lodged against your sex, Schlatt gives you a single command. “Move.”

You obey without a single thought, your head fuzzy from the pressure on your neck and the pleasure between your legs. “God look at you,” he chuckles darkly, watching you get yourself off with abandon. “I barely have to say a word and you’re so desperate to cum. If I knew you looked this good all fucked out maybe I would have actually fucked you good, slut.”

Your head tilts back, a whine falling from your throat, choked as it is. “But you had to go and be a fucking nasty tease so this is the best you get,” he admonishes, watching closely as your thrusts get faster. “And here you go, all ready to cum. That what you want slut? You wanna be a pathetic little mutt for me and make a mess on my thigh?”

Coherent words won’t form in your head properly to respond. All you can do is nod your head vigorously as your quick thrusting becomes uncoordinated and sloppy. Schlatt laughs at you meanly as his hand tightens just a smidge more. “Then do it,” he growls with a smile. “Cum your brains out on my thigh like the little whore you are.”

With a broken moan and your eyes rolling back into your skull, you and your body obey Schlatt without question. Shudders wrack your form as pleasure leaks from your sex, soaking the fabric of the president’s slacks. Only when your shuddering starts to slow and your eyes start to flutter shut does the ram hybrid loosen the hold he has on your neck in favor of supporting your body.

“Let that teach you a lesson,” he grumbles, helping support your weight as he starts to lead you back home. “Don’t be such a fucking tease. Next time, just ask for me to rearrange your guts like a whore with dignity. Got it.”

You chuckle softly but nod your head against his shoulder. “You got it boss,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” Schlatt tells you, getting you into your home. He sets you up with water and pat on the head before leaving without another word. You sigh heavily, sipping down the water slowly so as not to mess your throat up more. Maybe being a teasing slut wasn’t so bad after all.

#bat writes #mcyt smut #schlatt smut

169 notes · View notes

plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 3 years

Text

Nemesis: Retribution (3)

Summary: 10 years after the Avengers had left you for dead during a mission gone wrong, you unexpectedly re-enter their lives. Wholly unrecognizable from the person they used to know and now with a new team behind you, they ask for your help to stop a chain of syndicates who were manufacturing and peddling the super soldier serum. You were determined to say no until the chance at the vengeance you had been chasing for years was added to the offer.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, MCU, The Punisher, Daredevil

Pairings: Female Reader x (Frank Castle, Billy Russo, Matt Murdock, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Pietro Maximoff)

Warnings: EVENTUAL SMUT. SHAMELESS SEXUAL BEHAVIOURS. (18+ ONLY), polyamorous relationships, reverse harem, blatant disregard for canon timelines and events, lots of angst, Punisher canon level of violence and gore, strong language, mentions of trauma, character death, fluff if you squint

A/N: We’re playing fast and loose with canon here people. Also thank you for the interactions. I love reading what you think and it helps me write the next chapters better. Also, I enjoy having someone to freak out with. Highlight of my life I swear to god. Enjoy!

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

1:3 Hard Candy

Natasha stormed off the jet and into the conference room where she knew the rest of the team were waiting for them, fury radiating from her small frame. Catching sight of her target only made her grow angrier. She immediately ran up to Steve and growled up in his face causing him to immediately take a step back. Sam and Bucky were immediately alarmed, standing up to intervene and the latter's black vibranium arm whirring in preparation but Steve held up a hand to stop them.

"What the hell, Rogers? You send me on a mission with zero intel and this is what I find? Did you know?"

Steve's eyes narrowed down at her, the thick beard and longer hair adding even more to his already commanding presence. He knew exactly what Natasha was talking about and he did expect her to react this way.

"I wasn't sure, Nat. And I didn't want to get anyone's hopes up if I was wrong."

"And if you were right?" she scoffed.

Steve swallowed hard before he answered, the blue in his eyes calming considerably. "I thought the three of you deserved to be the first to know."

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky asked, arms crossed on his chest and brows deeply furrowed. They didn't even know about any mission.

Natasha chuckled humorlessly and backed off from Steve. She ran a hand through her hair, the red bleeding into the old blonde color, and gestured toward the door at the approaching people.

"Well you weren't wrong, Steve."

Shock.

That was the overall theme of the day it seemed. None of them could hardly believe that you were actually standing at the doorway. It's been ten long years and you were like the ghost haunting their dreams during that time, a pure and kind soul taken far too soon. Hell, they told stories about your selfless sacrifice to the new recruits. You had unknowingly become a legend.

A legend turned ghost story.

Now you looked more like a nightmare; dried blood caked your clothes and skin, a cold smirk lifting the corner of your lips, and a dangerous unhinged glint in your eyes.

"Well, I'll be damned," Sam breathed. "Y/N?"

"Hey, Sam," you said, the almost flirtatious lilt in your voice sending a shiver down their spines. "I go by Nemesis now."

"Nemesis?" Bucky snapped out of his daze, brows raised high and his jaw clenched, features seen clearer now with his shorter hair. "The notorious mercenary Nemesis?"

"I prefer private contractor."

While they had been honoring your memory, you had been building a ruthless reputation of your own that was widely considered on par in violence with The Punisher but with the added disturbing fact that you could be hired. Of course, no one but a select few knew who you actually were.

Until today.

Nemesis. The Greek goddess of divine retribution and revenge. A name that suited the dark avenging persona you had adapted and the only purpose you now lived for. In a twisted kind of way, you were doing the same work they were only with far less finesse and none of the righteous for the good of mankind purpose they usually had.

You shrugged, sitting yourself casually down on the nearest chair on the other end of the long table from where they stood. You have had a long night, your feet were tired and they were still looking at you with absolute confusion and disbelief. This looked like it would take a while.

You rolled your eyes as you unbuckled your stained bulletproof vest, throwing it haphazardly on the table. You hazarded a glance at each one of them as you made yourself comfortable, noting the changes in them too. The years had given way to a solemn maturity to each one, it seems things had changed for them too.

"Now that I'm here, you have 12 minutes."

"12 minutes? Until what?" Steve stammered.

He couldn't keep his eyes off you, couldn't for the life of him reconcile the person he was seeing in front of him with the person he knew. From your expressions to your movements and even to the tone of your voice, you were just so different and yet it just seemed to make you a more magnetic presence. Fresh guilt washed over him, knowing that he had failed you as your Captain. They should have kept looking for you.

"You'll see. 11 minutes now. Either ask your questions or tell me what you want."

"We all thought you were dead," Steve muttered, taken back by your hostility.

"Well that obviously didn't stick. How did you find me, Cap?"

It was Steve who found you. At first he couldn't believe it was really you, but the split second glimpse he got of your eyes from the body cam on one of the field agents weeks ago drove him to obsessively dig further. It was a shot in the dark when he sent Natasha and the twins on the mission tonight.

"By chance," he admitted. "We've been chasing a group of people suspected to be manufacturing and selling the super soldier serum. Our agents have had a few close encounters with you. I think we're going after the same people."

"So you're asking for intel?" you snorted, absentmindedly picking at the bloodstains on your sleeves.

"No," he said cautiously, wary at how relaxed yet tightly coiled you looked. "I'm offering you your spot back with the team."

You almost choked on the laugh that just escaped your lips. You couldn't help the short bark of laughter at the ridiculous proposition. Looking at their faces though it seemed that the offer was serious, although the reluctant look in their eyes at your transformation showed their inner conflict. You straightened your features and shook your head, the amused smile still on your lips.

"Look, I'm not exactly on brand for you guys anymore." You leaned forward with your arms on the table and landed your eyes squarely on Bucky's, the venom unmistakable. "Besides, I seem to recall I was deemed not cut out for this team."

Bucky felt like his soul left him at your words. There was a Molotov cocktail of emotions raging inside him; surprise, shame, relief, anger, guilt, and longing. It was killing him knowing that he had a hand in how drastically you had changed. He was deathly afraid of finding out your full story. He wanted to talk to you, wanted to beg for your forgiveness and make things right. How many chances would anyone get to redeem oneself with a ghost? He couldn't find the words though, his throat going dry and his tongue heavy in his mouth.

"Y/N, you know that's not the truth," Steve tried to insist.

"I'm not Y/N anymore and I already have a team." You waved a hand dismissively. "Also your 12 minutes are up."

All at once the power cut out in the Compound, drenching the room into darkness punctuated by the flashing emergency lights. You felt yourself get lifted off your seat and the next moment you were standing behind a formation of Avengers in the arms of the resident speedster, your arms on his chest to steady yourself from the daze of the sudden movement. His muscles were tense beneath your hands but his expression was gentle as he looked down at you.

He had wanted to rush over to you the moment you revealed your face. He wanted to hold you, jump for joy, speed around the entire city with you in his embrace. How you were alive didn't matter to him.

Only that you were.

It was only at Wanda's warning for him to stay back that he did. She showed him that you weren't the same person anymore and that they weren't sure whether you would still be friend or foe. To Pietro though, you weren't different.

You were just angry.

To him you were still his little star despite the others thinking you were closer to a supernova now. His little star was just hurting and he decided that he would do everything in his power to help you heal. He held your head tighter to his chest, intending to protect you from the anticipated danger and ready to get you to safety at a moment's notice.

"What the damn hell is going on?" Sam yelled, readying his guns.

A figure silently jumped through the window and rolled on the floor to stop right in front of the group, jolting the Avengers to defend. He stood to full height and took a fighting stance; clad in head to toe red, billy clubs at the ready, and horns glinting in the sparse light atop his head.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

"Let Nemesis go," he growled.

Natasha stepped forward, snapping her own batons in place. The crackling of the electricity from it sent lights to dance on the menacing expression on her face. The rest of the team watched closely the other entry points, expecting more to come in and if the first was any indication then they were in for a real fight.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway, loud and not at all trying to be concealed. Walking straight through the front door, were two towering men in heavy military gear each holding an assault rifle aimed at the group. The sneer on one lent a dangerous taunting aura to his surprisingly handsome features as if to say just fucking try me. While the other had a burning steely focus that instinctively made anyone back off, the emblem on his black vest told them exactly who he was.

The Punisher.

The Avengers snapped to attention, each one drawing their weapons and aiming back. The air was crackling with animosity and fingers that itched to pull their respective triggers. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the first to break the standoff in the enclosed space. Willing for someone to break it.

You laughed.

The disorientation at your reaction was palpable across the room. You patted Pietro's chest, grinning up at him in reassurance that everything was fine. He released you from his hold reluctantly and let you step out of the protective cluster they had inadvertently formed around you. The three newcomers visibly relaxed the slightest bit at the sight of you.

"Weapons down," you said calmly, eyeing each one in the room. No one budged. "All of you. Now."

Steve being the first one to lower his shield was the catalyst in diffusing what could have been the fight of the century. As outnumbered as the newcomers were, they lacked nothing in skill and precise brutality. Frank followed in lowering his weapon and soon everyone did the same. There was still tension but at least it was now reduced to intense glaring.

You tutted and shook your head as you strutted your way to your three rescuers. "What I needed was a ride home, Frankie. Not a goddamn full extraction op."

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, not sounding at all apologetic and knowing you weren't really angry if the tired amusement on your face was anything to go by.

He smiled at you, that small open quirk at the corner of his mouth that was always accompanied by a roll of his tongue. He reached for you when you got close enough, drawing you close with a burly arm around the back of your shoulders. He kissed you on the forehead, a lingering gesture that clearly showed an intimacy between the two of you. The soft look on his face was reserved only for you and when he raised his face to the Avengers it was back to the cold threatening glare.

"Can you blame us though?" His voice came out gravelly, a favorite sound of yours. "The last time you were with these guys you were captured and tortured."

Tortured.

The word hung heavy in the air and though your back was turned, you could imagine the look on the faces of your former team. They didn't know about that yet. How could they when they had believed all this time that you died in the explosion?

"You forgot to mention blown up," Matt added, grabbing your hand and pressing it to his lips.

He removed his helmet, floppy brown hair instantly softening his persona. He peppered kisses on your palm and the inside of your wrist as he breathed in your scent to calm his own anxiety. He almost lost it when Billy had called saying that you had been taken. He was usually the last one to jump to immediate violence in your group, but the thought of you gone filled him with irrational fear. The possibility that history could repeat itself was unacceptable to him.

"I should have come with you."

"I could handle it and Billy was with me."

"Lot of good that did," he scoffed, switching to lightly biting your wrist. This wasn't unusual. Being blind, he relied on a more intense physical reassurance that everything was still as it should be.

"They weren't gonna hurt me, Matty," you argued, but it was more to help settle his nerves.

"All right, leave the foreplay for later," the last of the trio said, pulling you by your other hand closer to him.

He held you tightly by the waist and pressed you close, molding your body to his in a practiced motion. The smile on his face was scandalous and the mischief in his eyes was one that spelled trouble. The cheeky bastard winked at you before dipping his head to lay open mouthed kisses on your neck up to your ear right along your old scars. Shivers went down your spine and you couldn't help the low hum as your body reacted instinctively to him, stepping closer still until you could feel the heat of his body through his gear.

You knew exactly what he was doing. He was always the quickest to show affection in front of company, but this was a particularly golden opportunity for him to stake his claim in front of people he believed did not value you enough. Billy wouldn't be Billy if he didn't take it.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Across the room, the Avengers watched on with blatant curiosity at the apparent intimately familiar exchanges. It wasn't as much the fact that three men were bathing you with affection, but more that this cemented how far removed you were from their memory of you. They knew you as a starry-eyed recruit who stuttered at light teasing and preening at the slightest validation.

"Y/N," Steve called for you, forcing you to step away from Billy for the moment. You turned around to face them but Billy didn't let you go far, slinging his arm over your chest and this time contorting his body to yours.

"I told you, Steve. I'm not Y/N anymore," you said, a fleeting sadness flashed in your eyes before it was replaced with a firm pride. "And this is my team."

"We're taking our girl home," Frank declared, the threat underneath didn't need to be verbalized. If they took you again, it wouldn't end well for anyone.

"Wait!" Steve said urgently, halting your exit. "We'll hire you."

It was a last ditch effort. He was grasping at straws to keep you from disappearing from their lives again. He knew that if you walked out that door now there was no chance of ever getting you back. He just could not let that happen. This would only be temporary at best, but at least it would buy him time to convince you of a more permanent arrangement.

"Not interested."

"Nem." Matt as usual cautioned you from being too hasty. "Is this about the syndicates?"

You sighed. Matt was like a dog with a bone now. There was no choice but to let him chew on it. This was particularly important to him because the syndicates had been running amok in Hell's Kitchen and he was starting to find it difficult to keep his backyard clean.

"Yeah, apparently the stuff we found in the shipment yard was for making super soldier serums. The Avengers have been following the trail too."

"Why not just join forces then? We can get this done and over with a lot faster with their help," he reasoned.

"We're doing fine on our own, Matty."

"Matt has a point, sweetheart," Frank cut in. "We've been chasing this for years. I know a part of you is just itching to end all of this."

"It might help us find him faster. Do you really want to spend another ten years pulling at threads?" Matt added.

You closed your eyes, hands clenching at your sides to control your anger. It grated at you when they ganged up on you like this, but your anger was more because they were right and you knew it. You hated it, but they were right.

It was Billy who intervened, pulling you again to hug you from behind. His hold was firmer than before, aimed more to calm your shaking body. His voice came out calm, but resolute. His first priority was always making sure you were okay and you obviously weren't okay with this.

"You heard the lady. It's a no."

Frank and Matt sighed and shook their heads, but backed off. They weren't about to push you about this no matter how much they knew this would help you. They'll try again to convince you later, but they weren't optimistic. It was fortunate for them that there was more than just one stubborn person in the room.

"Please," Steve interrupted. You had almost forgotten that there were other people in the room. Almost. "We need your help. They have someone who keeps getting in our way and every time we get close he either fights us long enough for the trail to grow cold or leads us on wild goose chases. We can't let that serum be available to whoever can pay for it."

He didn't know what it was that he said that made all of your heads snap in his direction. Your eyes in particular were suddenly wild with barely restrained fury. He would take it. At least he had your attention.

"We can't let that happen, Nemesis," he finished, making sure to use your preferred name. Anything to possibly get himself into your good graces.

"Do you have a name?" you ground out.

"What?"

"A name, Steve. Do you know who this guy is?"

"By the way he fights he seems to be a merc too. Looks like military background though from where I'm not sure," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words in the hopes of you changing your mind. "He goes by Salvacion."

"We're in."

Earth's Mightiest was stunned at the sudden reversal of your decision. As firm as you had rejected the offer, you were jumping at it now with the addition of your own team.

"Let's get one thing straight though, Cap," you began, the rage still burning in your eyes like wildfire. "My team and I will work with you. It's all of us or none of us. We'll help you lock up the syndicates and destroy the serum. We'll play nice, but Salvacion is mine."

Steve took a deep breath, relieved that you had agreed but also deeply concerned at your visceral reaction to a name. He had to ask.

"Why?"

"Because that's the motherfucker who killed my sister."

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

A/N: I feel like you guys have more questions now. Come freak out with me through the comments and reblogs! I write faster when people freak out with me. It’s the truth. Now that you’ve seen our girl with ALL our strapping men, what do you think? Who are you most curious about now?

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

Series Tag List (Open - Can’t Tag Crossed Out):

@anythingwriter @kamalymaly @lazyloki @marvelfansworld @blackbirddaredevil23 @purechaosss @iloveangstposts @onesmokinbabe @jojodojo02 @spookyparadisesheep @strawb3rrydr3ss @studentdoctorstark @siriushxney @hopplessdreamer @paryl @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @writingmi @thatguppienamedbae @hxpelessxcean @waywardwifey @hotleaf-juice

Permanent Tag List (Open):

@alwaysclassyeagle @closetbtstrash @fanofalltheficsx @unlikelygalaxygiver @alyispunk @fckdeusername @milkyway-writes @dumb-ass-writer

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

713 notes · View notes