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#and her armpit flaps are like wings
gayhenrycreel · 1 year
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i cant blaze it but here is Squishy folding on your dashboard
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ervotica · 10 months
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𝐰𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞. [𝐟.𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫]
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when you think finnick’s in danger, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to protect him. or, that time the mutts impersonated your fiancé and you lost your shit.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: canon level violence, finnick is cute, reader is traumatised and also crying. overall not my best writing but it’s something.
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: apologies for my absence guys, life has been kicking me in the ass of late. here’s an apology fic, i know it sucks i am very rusty in the writing department. love ya🫶
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Finnick has been gone for ten minutes when the birds start circling; he’s disappeared into the trees, aimlessly digging when the sounds of flapping wings and voices hit the group’s poised ears.
You’re stumbling into the undergrowth at the first threat of danger, the breath quick to steal from your lungs as his voice rings in your ears.
“Y/N? Where are you? Help me!” Finnick’s voice calls, low and pained and drawn out terribly. Every sensible explanation dies, shrivels up and blackens in your head and you’re running towards the sound, swatting leaves and fallen branches out of the way.
“Finnick!” you shriek. “Finnick!”
Your heartbeat thumps in your own head, blood rushing and pounding when you trip and stumble your way further into the trees.
Peeta and Johanna are behind you, their grappling hands doing little to stop you on your rampage.
“They’re jabberjays, it’s not real!” Peeta tries to coax you down but it’s no use, you’re in a blind panic.
“Finn!” you scream for him again. “Finnick!”
Every awful scenario floods your head at once, of Snow and the Capitol and the torture they could inflict on him. It’s the only way to hurt you, hurting him, and Snow knows that.
Your cheeks are hot and damp with tears as you spin, frantic and wide eyed and desperate to catch a glimpse of Finnick; Johanna seizes you from behind, pushing you down to the ground and holding you there. When you thrash and lift your head, her hand clasps the back of your neck and forces your nose into the damp floor.
“It’s not real!” she growls.
He’s still screaming. Screaming for you. It hurts your ears and grabs your chest with white-hot panic, pure and unrelenting.
By the time the hour’s up, you’re limp, breath ragged and laboured. Johanna manhandles you up until you feel the bark of a tree digging into your back; you hiss and push her away indignantly. You have this far away look in your eyes, glazed and unfocused, only snapping to attention when a pair of footsteps bowl through the trees and crouch next to you.
“Finn,” you whisper, trembling as he wraps thick wired arms around you and pulls you flush to him. His pulse is fast and hard like a drum pressed to your cheek, his chest heaving as you climb him.
“It wasn’t real. I’m fine, we’re fine.”
You gasp and wheeze and clutch at him like he might slip away, a fist in his sandy hair, your shoulder wedged under his armpit. His grip is like iron around your waist and his breath is warm and comforting on the juncture of your shoulder.
“You’re okay,” you mumble, repeating over and over as though you’re trying to convince yourself.
“I’m okay. Look at me,” he demands. His hands are warm. “It wasn’t real.”
“Not real.” You rake fingernails across the nape of his neck, squeezing to keep him close. Your breath is ragged. “We’re fine.”
“There’s my girl.”
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chubbyreaderwriter · 3 months
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Hi! May I ask for a Peter Maximoff one with shy and insecure reader? She and Peter were very close friends-and she was totally in love with him! Knowing she wasnt his type, she just bottled up her emotions...So, because she thinks she doesnt have the way with words, she wants to write a love letter! But since she didnt have that many friends, she had to go to Peter for advice...He is more than happy to help out his dear friend, only to have his smile fade the very second she leaves his room...
I love this request!!
Oblivious
Peter Maximoff x Chubby/ Plus Size Reader
Imagine: Peter and yourself are both oblivious to each other’s feelings but things change when you ask Peter for some love advice.
Word Count: 2.1K words
Warnings: None
Masterlist
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You forced a smile as Peter left your room to go find some kids to annoy before you lay down on your bed, held your pillow over your face to muffle your scream as you kicked your legs out in frustration. You threw the pillow off your face and blew the loose strand of hair off your forehead. Your life sucked. Okay not all of it, but your love life definitely sucked. It sucked hard. It really wasn’t easy being in love with your best friend and it was even harder now you know that you’re not his type. Earlier this morning, you had been hanging out with Jean, Peter, Scott and Kurt. You weren’t really interested in the conversation, just looking out the window, when you heard Scott ask, “So Peter, what’s your type? I haven’t seen you with a girl before.” You glanced over at the two sitting on the couch and Peter made eye contact with you as well, causing you to look away to pretend like you weren’t listening.
Peter rubbed the back of his neck and let out a nervous laugh, “Oh come on you guys, why’d you wanna know?” Scott crossed his arms over his chest, “Sorry Maximoff, I forgot you were a chicken.” He proceeded to then tuck his hands under his armpits and flap his arms like wings. Peter pushed his shoulder, “Stop it man. Okay fine, I guess you could say, I dunno, skinny chicks with a big ass?” It was the first thing that popped into his head, not wanting to just blurt out that he did have a very specific type and that she was sitting across the room from him but he wasn’t ready to confess just yet and said the first thing that came to mind. Scott tried to high five him and Jean looked at the two of them with disgust, “You’re both shallow and gross.” Poor Kurt was as lost as ever, “What is a ‘type’?” You smiled at him and he gave a shy smile back, you always found his innocence and obliviousness to be adorable.
Peter looked between you and Kurt and had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop him from saying anything. In his mind, because you were so nice to Kurt, he assumed you had feelings for the blue mutant, which is why he decided not to make a move. It definitely wasn’t because he was too scared. You didn’t leave straight away but as soon as the conversation had changed, you excused yourself and headed to you bedroom. Less than a moment later, you were joined by your best friend and crush, Peter. The two of you talked about nothing like always before he left, which catches us up to this morning.
You let out a deep sigh, you hated this feeling. You just wished you could tell him how you feel but you were too scared and nervous to do that. You looked around your room as you lay on your bed, pausing when your eyes rested upon a notebook ontop of your desk. You sat up quickly and hummed in consideration, would it be a good idea though? Writing a love letter seemed like a cheesy and cliche idea and you didn’t want to be laughed at. You couldn’t ask Scott for advice, he would definitely laugh at you and then proceed to interrogate you about who it was for. Jean didn’t like getting involved in stuff like this, no matter how much you pleaded with her, so she was out. Kurt, bless his soul, wouldn’t have a clue what you were talking about so that left Peter. You went about the mansion looking for him, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you walked through corridors and down stairways.
You reached one of the downstairs kitchens and sat down on one of the chairs around the island in the middle. You let out a defeated sigh, you couldn’t find him anywhere and you had decided to give up for today. You leaned your elbow on the table and rested your head in the palm of your hand, staring out the kitchen window. It was only just after noon so there were still a lot of students playing and hanging out outside. You spotted a familiar figure walk into sight across the yard and you guess he saw you as well because you barely blinked and he was leaning on the table in front of you, smiling, “Hey, watcha doing all alone?” You smiled back, “Moping around waiting for help.” Peter grinned, “What kind of guy would I be to leave a damsel in distress? And a pretty one at that.” You couldn’t help from blushing, even if you didn’t truly believe he meant what he said. But he did mean it, he thought you were beautiful and seeing you blush was only further proving it to him. You looked down and nervously fiddled with your fingernails, not looking at him as you asked, “So, uh, if you were to write a love letter, what would you say exactly, in the letter?”
Peter felt all his hopes and dreams of being the man for you sucked out of his body. It was like his heart was being sucker punched by a thousand tiny soldiers roaming his insides as he looked at you, a light blush on your soft cheeks. His mouth twitched as he fought off a strong urge to frown at your words but managed to force himself to smile at you when you finally rose your head at his silence. He let out a breath, “Uh wow, um I dunno, I’ve never really thought about love all that much.” Peter hoped he was a convincing liar because even just saying those words made him wanna cringe at himself as he knew he spent every single available second daydreaming about what it would be like to date you, hold you, kiss you, have you smile lovingly at him, just anything with you. Your defeated expression made him feel all the more worse though. He knew he would rather see you happy with someone as good as Kurt than be miserable and lonely like himself.
With a deep sigh, he sat himself down next to you, “I guess what I’d say is… I’d tell them that I love them because they’re a kind, beautiful and caring person and that just the thought of them can bring me out of the darkest places in my mind. I’d tell them that spending just one second with them in my sight is enough to brighten my whole day. That I hold them higher in my heart than any other and I’d do anything to see them as happy as I am when I’m with them.” Your eyes shined with a mix of emotions. First of all, you’d never have expected Peter (the most childish person you’ve ever met) to say such beautiful words and you knew from the way he spoke that he was thinking about someone particular in mind. You felt your heart clench at that thought of Peter saying these words to another girl. You smiled at him though, nonetheless, his advice was very helpful, maybe it would even help to use his own words to win him over. You lightly placed your hand on top of his that was resting on the table, “That was beautiful Peter, thank you so much, you don’t understand how much you’ve helped me.”
No matter who you gave your letter to, the smile on your face as you got up and left was all Peter needed to make himself feel better. But it didn’t last very long. The second you left his vision, his smile dropped and his jealousy was getting the better of him. He rushed outside and was sitting atop the roof to look down at the fields below and could see Kurt doing some training with Jean. He sat and scowled at the blue mutant, what was so special about him that he deserved all of your love and affection. He needed to make sure that Kurt was worthy of you and wanted to see his reaction to your letter. He made it his sole mission to keep an eye on Kurt until you gave him the letter.
The whole day dragged by and still Peter had seen no sign of you around Kurt. He’d noticed you talking to Jean briefly but that was all and then it was like you were avoiding Kurt. Now that was strange, why did you ask for his advice if you weren’t even going to use it? It was now twenty minutes to curfew and with a heavy sigh, Peter gave up his stalking duties for the day and started heading back to his own room. He felt like a chump for helping you (his crush) confess to your own crush and had then proceeded to spy on the harmless guy just cause he was jealous. He shook his head, what was wrong with him? He had paced around his room for a short while when he noticed a shadow of a figure pausing outside his room then an envelope slid underneath the door and across the wooden floorboards to land at his feet. Peter had an internal battle of whether he should open the door to chase down the giver of the mysterious letter or open it to see what it held inside, not quite having worked out what was happening.
Peter decided, why not do both? Using his powers he made a quick move to pick up the letter, opening it with his finger and making a tear along the top to pull out the lined paper adorned with holes at the left hand side telling him that it must have been ripped out of a notebook or something. His eyes saw the shadow slowly disappearing from under the door so he turned back to the letter in his hands. Skimming over the first few lines was all he needed to see as his own words were being read back to him. Wasting no more time, he opened his door and came back to normal time to see you looking up at him, wide-eyed.
You felt your heart stop as the door opened, you had literally pushed it under his door about two seconds ago, how was this fair? He couldn’t even have the decency to let you calm down from your nerves. It took everything out of you to work up the courage to give it to him even without in person but it seemed Peter was determined to ruin your plan of running away from the outcome in case he turned you down. Peter held your letter open, “What is this? You like me? Why didn’t you tell me this before? I feel bad I spent the whole day stalking Kurt because I thought you liked him but then he never got the letter so I was confused but it’s me, you like me!” You still had yet to make a move, trying to take in Peter’s voice as he blabbed at you, talking too fast for you to process what he was saying at first. Your brain caught up and all you could think to say was, “You thought I liked Kurt?” Peter rubbed the back of his head as his own nerves creeped up on him, “Uh well yeah, you’re always so nice to him so I figured that you must like him.”
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you realised Peter’s jealousy, “I am nice to Kurt, I’m also nice to Jean and Scott. But I’m especially nice to you, I spend almost all my free time with you. I was just too nervous to say anything and then what you said to Scott made me think you weren’t interested so I decided to write a letter but I got stuck and didn’t know who to turn to so… I kinda just asked you.” Peter was staring at you but no words came out of his mouth. A few more seconds went by and you started to lose confidence, “Why are yo-” your question was interrupted by Peter kissing you unexpectedly. You tensed up in surprise but quickly relaxed yourself and lifted your arms up around his shoulders, your hand raking through his grey hair. Peter’s hands rested on your hips and when he finally pulled away to catch his breath, he rested his forehead against yours. He let out a small chuckle, “Sorry babe, I’ve just wanted to do that for ages.”
“Babe?” You teased, “I don’t remember you asking me to be your girlfriend?” Peter’s smile was the widest it had been in a long time as he picked you up and carried you into his room, using his foot to kick the door closed behind him, “Ah shut up, you’re mine now.” You both couldn’t get over how oblivious you both were, but it all seemed to work out in the end.
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anonymous-dentist · 10 months
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I would’ve voted honq anyway because gay love divorce
But qjaiden maybe something abt her and cucurucho or the federation test tube baby theory she’s just so bby
Cucurucho decides to give its little bird wings shortly after her fourth birthday. The process hurts, and the child screams during the procedure, but the outcome is an overwhelming success.
After recovery, Subject J-10 takes to her wings like... well, like a bird takes to the sky. She is initially averse to the feathers tickling her back, but she gets used to the feeling quickly enough.
Overall, Cucurucho is pleased with the results. The theory that one can convert a human into an animal hybrid with the correct adjustment of genetic makeup prior to birth seems to be a correct one, though they will need more testing to make sure.
(Maybe a spider, Cucurucho thinks, the web could be useful for construction...)
However, there is one negative outcome to the experiment, and it's that J-10 has taken to learning to fly. That in itself is not a bad thing. Her flinging herself off of every tall object she can find in the vague hopes of her wings working is.
"No," Cucurucho says after yet another instance of this behavior.
It is holding J-10 up by the armpits, her stubby little legs kicking around, displeased, and her face screwed up in red-faced, angry tears.
"Lemme!" she cries. Her wings flap uselessly.
"No," Cucurucho repeats, thinking that she did not hear it.
And then J-10 bites it in the hand with sharpened teeth. Cucurucho is so shocked by the uncharacteristic unruly behavior that it is startled into dropping her. Too late, it tries to catch her, but J-10 plummets five feet to the floor and lands in a crumpled heap of tears and feathers.
J-10 screams. She screams some more even as Cucurucho picks her up and shushes her.
"No," it says. When she continues screaming, it repeats, slightly more panicked, "No! No, no, no, no."
And it continues repeating it until she quiets down into an unhappy sulk, pouting up at it with puffy red eyes.
"Wanna go up," J-10 announces. She points up at the glass ceiling, through which one could almost make out the clear blue sky of the "island" above.
Cucurucho deliberates, and then it settles on: "Maybe. I don't know."
That's a good enough answer for a child, it supposes, because J-10 settles down into its arms tiredly, all cried out.
(Only a few short months later, the first security breach occurs. Both J-10 and the newly created R-01 go missing during the attack. Cucurucho misses them both, but, then again, it can just make new ones.)
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mymhameme · 1 year
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Fic these were based on below the cut.
_______
“Fucking useless,” his mother spits at him. “Everything about you.” 
Keigo just clutches his doll tighter. His mother’s voice is slow and sluggish, her words slurring as she degrades him. She always gets like this when she can’t get her happy things. Pills, Keigo’s mind supplies. Alcohol. Drugs. He wasn’t able to bring her any money to get those things and she was getting sicker by the minute. 
“Can’t you do anything right,” she sneers. The eyes she constantly has flitting about her are rolling in the damp dirt. “What were you doing that whole time?! Were you playing? Or were you telling the police about me? Huh?” She shuffles towards him on her knees. Her eyes are bloodshot and sunken in as she stares him down. He isn’t sure what she’s looking for. 
“No,” he answers. Long, spindly fingers tug at his shirt and he stumbles closer to her. His heart races and his wings flap against his back but he lets her tug him until he’s inches from her face. There’s hair clinging to her brow and cheeks from the sour sweat she’s coated in. 
“Liar,” she hisses. “Your father was right. You’re a dirty little rat. A useless little twerp.” Her uneven nails dig into his arms and he feels his feathers sharpen slightly at the pinching pain. He just squeezes his doll tighter. “Don’t you love me? I’m your mother! You should do whatever it takes to take care of me.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
He wants to.
He wants her to not worry about getting the things to make her feel better. He wants them to not worry about where they’re staying the night or what they’ll eat. He wants to make her happy and love him back but he just can’t. He doesn’t like stealing. He doesn’t like hurting people.
He doesn’t like being like his dad. 
“You’re sorry,” she scoffs in disbelief. She shoves him away from her and he fumbles to catch his footing. He steps into the foul water collecting under the bridge they’re resting under. Keigo feels an empty candy bar wrapped brush against his bare toes and he kicks it away. The water ripples around him, the sloshing echoing around them in the shadowed space. 
“Do you have any idea what I go through to take care of you?” Tomie flops backwards until she’s resting against the damp wall covered in algae and piss. “Why are you so ungrateful?” 
Keigo carefully keeps his face as neutral as he can but he’s tired and cold and hungry and his chest feels like it’s full of spiders. “I’m sorry,” he says again because what else can he do? 
“Fuck off,” Tomie growls through clenched teeth. “If you were sorry you woulda got us some money.” She wipes her nose on the shoulder of her shirt which is already crusted over from dried snot. “We need money.” 
“I know.”
“We need money!” 
Keigo doesn’t know what to say to that so he doesn’t say anything. He just shivers in the puddle so his mother can have the dry space to herself. It used to be bigger but there’s chunks of half digested food and stomach bile coating the area he slept last night. 
Their only blanket is wet, the corner having slipped into the water while Tomie writhed in pain. Keigo carefully tucked his plush into his armpit so he could wring out the soiled sheet. The water drips back into the puddle and it sounds like rain.
Keigo hates rain. 
He waddles forward on numb feet and gently lays the dry part of the blanket over his mother’s quaking shoulders. She sniffles miserably and pulls the corners closer to herself as she weeps. 
“What are we supposed to do, Keigo? Momma needs her happy things… She hurts so bad, baby…” 
Keigo resumes holding his only comfort in the world as Tomie mutters to him. The fabric making up Endeavor’s body smells like mildew when he shoves his face into it. 
He flinches when he feels his mother tug at him again. He peeks up over the fake flames to see what she wants. 
“C’mere, baby, Momma’s cold.” She holds the blanket open and Keigo hesitates for only a moment before he crawls onto her lap. “I’m sorry I said those things to you, Keigo. Do you forgive me?” 
“Yes.” 
Tomie wraps the blanket around them both and leans against the wall. She buries her face in his hair and now that he’s surrounded by her, his own body is shaking with how hard she’s trembling.
“Are you sure, honey? Mommy loves you, Keigo, do you forgive me?” 
“Yes, Momma.” 
“You’ll get me what I need, right? Tomorrow?” 
Keigo shuffles uneasily on her lap. It’s boney and uncomfortable and she really stinks and it’s not much warmer than on the other side of the blanket. 
“Keigo?” 
“I’ll get you your happy things,” he promises. Tomie weeps in relief and kisses his head over and over with trembling lips. 
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 
___________
Part 2.
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iamvegorott · 5 months
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A Rotten Summoning
Thank you @phonenix for commissioning this! <3
Summary: Yandere gets dared to summon her stepdad, Anti, to prove he is real. But when her 'friends' decide to treat Anti like a toy and hurt him emotionally and physically, she ends up ruining her connection to Anti and even puts Dark and Anti's relationship at risk.
A Rotten Summoning
“I’m telling you, he’s a literal Demon.” Yandere felt like she had repeated herself for the thousandth time to her friends.
“You’re just saying that to sound cool.” One of her friends, a girl her age named Maria, scoffed. “You’re all prim and proper, and you think having a Demon for a stepdad will negate all that.” 
“I am not all prim and proper.” Yandere protested. 
“You're the only one with a stainless uniform.” Her other friend, a boy a little younger than the two girls named Lincoln, pointed to Yandere’s pristine white top. The three of them were sitting on the floor in Maria’s basement, drinking weird mixtures that they made from juice and stuff from her parent’s liquor cabinet.
“My dad does the laundry. Of course, it’s stainless. He’s the overly formal one, not me.” Yandere hoped they didn’t notice how she was trying not to spill any of her drink on her shirt. Dark would throw a fit if she got red juice on it. Blood he could work with. Juice was annoying. 
“So Mr. Overly Formal is married to a Demon?” Maria asked.
“He’s not human either,” Yandere said.
“Not this again.” Lincoln groaned. 
“Why do you two never believe me?” 
“Show us actual proof, and we will.” Maria reached over and tapped Yandere’s phone. “And fake pictures don’t count.”
“They weren’t fake. My dad is literally gray.”
“That was literally a black-and-white filter.” Lincoln rolled his eyes.
“It was not!”
“Then summon him,” Maria said.
“What?”
“Summon your stepdad if he’s a Demon. My parents aren’t going to be home for several more hours. Let’s get him here with a summoning and prove us wrong.”
“I’m only supposed to do that in emergencies,” Yandere said. “Like, life-or-death ones since summoning him means that…” She let her voice trail off.
“Means what? That you’re a liar?” Lincoln poked Yandere’s side. 
“I am not! And it means he has to obey the person who summoned him for an hour. It’s a weird contract that gets set up that he has no control over. You know, like a genie, but he can kill people.” 
“You’re pulling that out of your ass because you know it doesn’t work.” Maria finished her drink and stood up. “Just admit you’re trying to be cool, and we can move on.” 
“I’m not admitting to lying about something that’s true. I’m a lot of things, but I am not a liar.” Yandere stood up as well. 
“Then summon your stepdad. Make us eat our words.” Lincoln bounced to his feet. “Unless you’re a liar and a chicken.” He tucked his thumbs into his armpits and flapped them like wings, clucking a few times. 
“I am not-” Yandere got cut off by louder clucking, and Maria was now joining in. “Fine! I’ll summon him!” Her patience for mocking was even thinner than Dark’s. “Don’t blame me if he kills you after the hour is up.” She went to the open cabinet and grabbed one of the bottles of vodka. After popping open the lid, she screwed on one of the pour spouts.  
“Need a shot first or something?” Maria asked with a laugh. 
“Need something flammable,” Yandere explained. She had a little kit on her, but she wanted to make this into a show. Her proof was going to be one her friends would never forget. 
“What a waste.” Maria clicked her tongue as Yandere poured the vodka on the floor, making a circle around herself. 
“This is either going to be really cool or really embarrassing,” Lincoln said. “Or concerning.” He added at seeing Yandere prick her finger and make an x on the floor with her blood. They didn’t need to know that she only needed a little drop, but again, making this a show. 
“This is going to be cringe when it fails,” Maria said as Yandere stood between them, taking a match out and lighting it. It was a special one. Carved in it was Anti’s Demonic symbol, the thing you actually needed to summon him. Blood was the sacrifice. His symbol getting burned did the rest. The more you knew of Anti, the less blood that you needed.
“It won’t,” Yandere stated before dropping the match onto the vodka, igniting the circle, and soon, a strong gust of wind started blowing back against them. 
“Holy shit!” Maria cursed while Lincoln just yelled as the flames grew, and soon Anti appeared in the center, body taking on its Demonic form with his ears pointed, teeth sharp, fingers as claws, and eyes pitch black. “Holy shit!” Maria cursed again. “You-he-that’s a Demon!” 
“You weren’t lying…you weren’t lying!” Lincoln started laughing, and he went over to Anti. 
“You said he has to do what you say for the next hour?” Maria asked as she went over as well.
“Yeah,” Yandere answered softly. 
“Yan? What is this? Are you okay?” Anti asked, stepping away from the two as he looked around. 
“I’m okay.” Yandere thickly swallowed. 
“Then why-”
“I have so many things in mind that we should do!” Maria cut off Anti’s question. “We have to see how far you can go.” 
“I just said we were summoning him. That’s it.” Yandere crossed her arms.
“Don’t be boring.” Maria huffed. 
“Have some fun,” Lincoln added. 
“You proved you weren’t lying, now prove you’re not a coward.”
“But…” Yandere looked at her friends, then to Anti, and then back to her friends. They were looking at her, waiting, expecting her to go with them, and eventually, she broke. “Okay.” 
“Hell yeah!” Maria and Lincoln cheered, and Yandere tried to ignore the look in Anti’s eyes. 
That look of pure disappointment
x~x~x
Yandere stood facing Dark’s office door, having knocked a few moments ago and waiting to get told to come in. It was the next morning, and she woke to a text from Dark telling her to go to his office as soon as possible to discuss what she had done. 
“Enter.” 
Oh, she was so screwed.
Enter was for when Dark knew who was at the door and was beyond angry with them. She’d seen it before, and it never ended well for the person on the side of the door she was on. 
“Um…hey, Dad?” Yandere greeted after opening the door and seeing Dark standing in front of his desk, leaning against it. 
“Sit.” Dark pointed to the empty chair. 
“Okay.” Yandere closed the door and sat as ordered, hands in her lap. “Listen, I-”
“Don’t. You’re going to listen.” Dark stated, and Yandere curled up a little on herself. “You know you're grounded. No phone, no friends, nothing but school and helping around the house for three months.”
“Three months!?”
“Do you want to make it four?” Dark’s tone got Yandere to press her lips together and look down at her legs. “I can’t believe you would do something so stupid. So reckless. So insulting to Anti. You know better than this.” 
“I was just-”
“You were just what? Trying to show off to some brats that don’t care about you?”
“They care about me!”
“Do they? If they did, they wouldn’t have made you summon a Demon while you were all drinking. Drinking underage, might I add. I should add two more months for that alone.” 
“They’re my friends.”
“Friends would have believed you or at least would have stopped when you provided proof and not have used Anti as a toy for their own entertainment.” Dark waited for a response but didn’t get anything. “Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for him? How devastated he is by you using him like that?” He still got nothing. “I am very disappointed in you, Yandere.” 
“I’m sorry,” Yandere said softly. 
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Dark shook his head. “You are going to beg Anti for his forgiveness, and you should pray he does, or it’ll be worse for you. Now go. I have work to do.” He dismissed Yandere with a wave of his hand. 
“Okay.” Yandere got up and left the office, knowing she had also hurt Dark since he’d never told her to go like that. He usually wanted her to stay, to be in the room with him, since they didn’t see each other as much as he wanted. But now he couldn’t even look at her.
Yandere had a good guess of where to find Anti, heading for the bedroom he and Dark had shared for almost a year. She pressed an ear to the door. When she heard movement, she knocked. 
“Come in.” Anti’s voice didn’t have its usual energy. That worried Yandere a bit. 
“Um…hey?” Yandere stepped in and felt more worried when she saw Anti folding up clothes and putting them into a suitcase. “What are you doing?”
“I’m moving back in with the Septiceyes,” Anti answered flatly. 
“What? Why?” 
“You know why.” 
“I’m sorry about what happened, but don’t take this out on Dad.” 
“You’re not sorry, and Dark will understand.” 
“I am sorry! I didn’t want to do that.”
“And yet you did. You weren’t in danger, no one was going to kill you, no one had a gun to your head or knife to your throat, you were the one in full control, and you let two little shits that don’t give a damn about you treat me like their servant and a toy. It took Edward an hour to get all that glass out of me.” Anti finally had emotion in his voice, but it was only pure anger. 
“I didn’t think they’d-”
“You didn’t do any thinking last night, did you?” Anti cut her off. “At least you finally realized it was a bad thing after they broke those bottles on my body.” He shook his head and closed the suitcase, zipping it up. “And I guess I should stop thinking as well. I truly thought we were finally getting along. That you had accepted me, but no. I’m just still the weird guy your dad’s fucking.” 
“That’s not true. Anti, please. I am really, really sorry for what they did.”
“You’re sorry for what they did, but you’ve yet to apologize for what you did.” Anti lifted his suitcase. “You claim that turning eighteen next month is going to make you an adult, but something actual adults do is take accountability for their actions. I’ve done a lot of fucked up things in my life, and I own up to that. Maybe one day you’ll actually grow up and do the same.” 
“Anti, please. Don’t.” Yandere’s voice cracked as Anti walked past her. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I swear I am. Anti, Anti, don’t go.” She followed Anti out of the room. “Just listen to me. I fucked up. Please don’t leave. Please. I’m sorry.” Anti paused and glanced over his shoulder.
“I don't forgive you right now, and I don't know if I ever will. I'm going to need time. Give Dark back my matches and tell him I’ll call him later.” He didn’t give Yandere any time to respond before he glitched away. 
“Anti, please,” Yandere said to the empty space, shoulders dropping as it fully hit how much she ruined. 
This was going to be far from an easy fix. 
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the-haunted-walkman · 6 months
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ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : A Bad Demon
𝔸𝕝𝕓𝕦𝕞 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕝𝕒 ℂ𝕒𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕦𝕖
█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █
↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ
█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █
"Cesar open the fucking door! It's cold as all hell get out!" Mark hollered, pounding the front door of the house. His breath fogged in front of him, the face paint felt tacky against his skin as it dried oddly in the October chill. He hopped from foot to foot, blowing on his hands as they trembled a little. He shoved his hands under his armpits, cursing himself for not bringing a jacket and thinking the sheet cloth of his costume would be warm enough. 
Cesar laughed from inside, sounding like he was just on the other side of the door, probably getting his shoes one. 
"You sound like the Doctor Philip Mama likes!" His muffled voice shouted jovially. A thump against the wall and a small curse, the one footed thumps making it obvious Cesar had lost his balance while shimying on his favorite red sneakers. 
Mark laughed, banging on the door once.
"It's Dr Phil and you know it, ya dip shit, careful to not hit your head while you're being an idiot in there" Mark laughed, shivering a little less as his happiness seemed to warm him a little. Cedars presence had always felt like a drop of sun. 
A mother on the sidewalk up front shot Mark a glare for his foul language as she shuffled her kid in a zombie costume and tutu past their house. The street lights had hardly been on and yet all the trick or treaters had already started emerging. Mark blushed and shot an apologetic and sheepish smile at her before turning back to the door. 
His cream robes and fake wings shuffled a bit as he leaned closer to the door, lowering his voice and hissing,
"Cesar I swear to hell if you don't hurry up I'm gonna climb in through a window like that one time-" 
The door swung open, almost making Mark fall on the shorter 14 year old Latino who was grinning up at him. Mark got on balance again and took a step back to look at Cesar, who was grinning wildly with pride sparking in his warm brown eyes. 
He'd really gone all out this Halloween.
Mark almost felt silly for his own costume, though he knew it had been worth his effort. Mark was wearing some cliche angel type robes he'd managed to make by draping some white and cream sheets around till they fit right. Angel wings and a halo added to the mix finished it off. Then Mark had added about two hundred fake eyes glued all over his face, his arms, the wings and even the halo. Some fake fangs couldn't hurt. 
Mark had excitedly told Cesar his plan as soon as he had thought it up. Cesar had also gotten that mischievous smile that was the opening sentence for a lot of the twos misadventures. 
Cesar stood proudly in the doorway in his favorite red button up. The color matched the fake blood spilled over his dark brown curls and dropped down half his face, making his curls darker and weighed down. The red horns shone on top of his head, fake fangs gleaming in his smile. His black slacks were the anchor for a pinned on red devil tail, and the signature Red Converse somehow didn't look out of place at the bottom, even splattered in fake blood for the occasion. Black fake wings shuffled on Cesar's back, having been mangled by the teen. The golden cross pendant on Cesars necklace was flipped upside down even, matching the earrings on fake pointed ears. 
"Holy shit" Mark gasped, staring dumbfounded. 
"I know, right?! I mean I was excited and thought it would look cool, but not THIS cool!" Cesar beamed excitedly, his hands making attempts at coherent gestures before giving up and just flapping excitedly. 
Mark swallowed thickly. His breaths got a little faster. 
"Ces, Cesar holy shit- I mean, FUCK, dude, your mom's gonna kill you!" Mark said worriedly. He frantically looked to the driveway, but the familiar beaten up red Pt Cruiser was absent. 
"Mark?"
Good, they'd have time to get Cesar in and washed up, maybe even dump the costume bits in a neighbors trash can before she got home. 
"Amigo?" 
If Mark hurried he could maybe- 
"MARK!" Cesar shout broke him out of his thoughts. Cesar held his hands tightly between his own. Mark was panting. He closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them he stared at their hands. Cedars were sandwiching his between his own, like a prayer in a prayer. Cesar's nails were painted black, red underneath. He'd always been good at painting nails. His abuela taught him when they were young. They used to paint each other's till Marks dad had seen them. He'd come over to Cedars house, fuming, Mark's mom was barely able to convince him to not go storming to the front door, telling him that she would talk to Cesar's mom, a call between moms would suffice. 
They didn't have nail polish remover. Mark's dad had watched Mark at their kitchen table, slowly pick at the baby blue polish with pail stars, slowly flaking off under constant picking from the boy. The harsh light had made Mark's eyes water, but he never let the tears roll down, that would have made it worse. Eventually Mark's dad had gotten tired. Mark wasn't allowed to leave the table till his nails were "clean". When Mark had woken up in the morning, a bottle of nail polish remover had been placed on the table by his head with a little muffin from his mom. 
His fingers had still hurt at school the next day. 
"Mark, please, let's go inside, your shivering, amigo" Cedars low smooth voice coaxed gently, sounding tired and sad. 
Mark looked up, breaths calming, but still a little trapped in thought. Cesar smiled at him sadly, tears in his best friend's eyes. Cedars gently tugged Mark inside and sat him on the couch. Mark tried to protest, but Cesar just quietly shook his head. That quieted Mark quickly. A calm moving and quiet Cesar was always a sign. 
A small clatter as red clip on horns where deposited on the work hardwood table that had scratches and paint stains on it. The click of two mugs half filled with water being placed on that class gray in the microwave above the fridge. The beep of a timer being set. A whir. 
Mark focused on the sounds of Cedars home. The smell of cinnamon and pumpkin pie spices being pulled from the cupboard, honey too. The fridge light clicking on and buzzing as Cesar retrieved milk. 
Mark fiddles with the end of his robe. The warm light of the living room lamp made it seem like soft gold. 
The microwave beeped, and after a moment stirring sounds of metal spoons in ceramic cups filled the two joined rooms. 
A blue mug with a chip in the corner was offered to him. Mark blinked, then took it. It warmed his hands. 
The couch cushions sank a little beside him, and he felt the warmth of Cesar at his shoulder. The Latino leaned against his friend, gently, shoulder to shoulder. He blew on his own red mug of tea. It had a design so faded you could hardly make it out. The  physical contact helped. Cesar knew. 
Mark's mug was old and blue, angel wings on it and chipped on the side. He'd dropped it once while at their house, it didn't break but It did chip. Mark had near panicked but Cesar Mom had just smiled gently, setting the cup aside. She checked his hands to make sure he was ok. She'd set little Mark on the countertop to sit, Cesar hopping up, asking over and over if Mark was alright. Cesar had tried to scramble up the pantry doors to sit by Mark, nearly falling off a few times. A quick stern look had stopped his parkouring, the five year old having to be satiated with just standing on his tiptoes and resting his chin on the countertop, staring up at Mark, worriedly. 
Mark had apologized over and over for the cup, offering to pay with his allowance, or buy a new one, but Cesars mom had just waved it off like it was nothing. She rummaged in a junk drawer, pulling out a small yellow tube of glue, and had gone over the sharp edges of the chipped bit. She handed it to Mark with a gentle smile as it dried, and poured him a new cup of cocoa once it was dry. 
She'd said it was HIS cup, so he shouldn't be worried if it broke. She could fix it, and it was here at their house, only for him to use, no one else. 
"How are you feeling?" Cesar's voice hummed. He felt the vibration in his shoulder. Mark came back to himself again. He took a sip of the familiar cinnamon drink, then sighed. He looked away blushing in shame. 
"I'm feeling dumb. I'm sorry I freaked a little" he apologized in a low voice, looking down. 
Cesar shrugged beside him, staying close, but looking forward, affording Mark that privacy. 
"It's fine, you don't have to apologize. I know how your parents are. . . Mama is out of town for the night. She took my tia out to one of those haunted mazes the town over all night. . .she doesn't mind my costume if that's what worries you. We can stay in if you want, I've got some candy stashed from last year, and Mama rented the Blair Witch" he said, skipping from his own red mug. Cesar mug  was more cracks glue together than solid unbroken pieces. His fluttering hands were clumsy, it was endearing. 
Mark stared at his drink, cinnamon and spices swirling in the murky white, honey sweet on his tongue. He took a deep breath, and shook his head, looking at Cesar. 
" No, we're going out. This might be the last year we go trick or treating and our costumes are too cool to waste!" He said, setting his face in determination. After a moment, he let a smile grow on his face. Cesar blinked, then beamed, standing up, clutching Mark's hands. 
"Aw Hell Yeah!" Cesar whooped. Mark snickered at the unintentional pun, Cesar not noticing and just scampering over to the table to grab his discarded horns. He snagged two plastic grocery bags from the convenience store from under the sink and rushed back over, handing one to Mark. 
A serious look crossed his face for a moment and he stared at Mark intensely. 
"We quit as soon as you want, just say the word. If it's two houses down or all the way across town, if you get anxious or tired or just bored, we can drop it as soon as you want, ok?" He said seriously. Mark felt his core warm a little, and he nodded. Cesar's beaming smile returned and he hauled Mark up, mugs forgotten on the living room table, left where they would reheat them later when they got back.
As they walked down the sidewalk, Mark now in a red jacket Cesar had bullied him into, Mark smiled to himself a little. He looked at his best friend who dragged him along, Cesar's smile shining brighter than the horns on his head. 
Cesar would make the worst demon, Mark thought to himself. 
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nsomniacsdream · 1 year
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Some Like it Hot
Grott the gargoyle was enjoying the luxurious sun pouring down into his grotto (A convenience store back lot) when the call to adventure came. A letter, to be specific. A letter from a woman he knew as a child, Jerrica, who had become a schoolteacher for a local kindergarten. Jerrica had been a cool kid, didn't try to pull his tail or whine about his wings meant he should be able to fly her around. They hadn't so much kept in touch as she did occasionally drop by to get him a box of donuts and help him pull an iguana out of the storm drain (they did that all the time, something about that stormdrain was like iguana catnip). Jerrica was very politely asking his assistance in providing some animal learning for her class. After he chewed it over with a pizza crust, He was sure he knew exactly what he should do. So he started a lap of his grotto, talking to each of the best behaved animals that lived in the lot. An iguana named Gene, a python named Pit, and a baby gator that just wouldn't stay in the canals, Kevin. The next morning, he packed them all in a radio flyer wagon and started down the block wearing his nicest vest (he stuck with vests because they wouldn't bind down his wings after he ripped the armpit seams.) This particular one was khaki and made him think of steve irwin.
Jerrica greeted Grott at the door, and pet his cowlick down and kissed the sides of his snout. "Thank you so much for coming! The kids were so excited when I told them I knew an actual gargoyle!" Grott handed Gene to Jerrica with an admonition to behave himself. Pit and Kevin curled around Grotts arms and all three were set down on a table in front of the classroom. Grott an Jerrica split a box of mixed donuts and some coffee. Before you knew it, the kids were filing in, all flapping signed permission slips at Ms. Benton. They couldn't help themselves from oohing and aahing over the first gargoyle they had ever met. Grott felt glad that he could meet all these kids and leave a good impression. Ambassadorial status was a priviledge and a burden sometimes. In the meantime, Kevin had made his way onto Ms. Bentons desk and gotten into a threat display fight with a staple remover after already losing one with the stapler. Gene had slid down on a sun puddle at the corner of the table and was basking. Pit had managed to snag a donut and gotten it stuck behind his head after he wiggled thru the donut's hole. It wasn't a problem yet, but he kept sneezing from all the powdered sugar on it. As all the kids had arrived and been settled into their beanbags, Grott loosed Kevin on the floor and told him to stay out of trouble. Gene wokeup with a start as Grott scooped him up and carried him draped along his arm up to the first row of children. "Do you kids know what this animal is?" There were several timid voices that said "lizard" or "florida puppy". "This is a green iguana, even tho you can see he's not all green. This is Gene. He lives near me, he's a good guy. But the green iguana is an invasive species here. They're originally from central and south america, but came here on boats full of food. Iguanas are cold blooded, which means he can't keep his own body warm, so you'll usually see them laying out in the sun. Gene is a nice guy, but he gets excited, so I'm not gonna pass him around or anything." Grott handed Gene the Iguana to Jerrica, who placed him gently back into the sunlight coming through the window. Gene blinked a few times then huffed and laid on his tail, falling asleep. "The next animal is one that a lot of people find scary, so I'm going to tell you about him first. Burmese pythons are a kind of snake. They started living here in the late 70s, but they're also invasive. They've spread throughout almost the entire state. Burmese pythons can be very big, and that scares people, but they're almost never a threat to people. They only attack if they don't have any other options. So don't approach them in the wild, if they get cornered, they might attack to be able to escape. Pit here is a really good guy, look how big his eyes are! they hunt at twilight so they see really well in the dark. And do you see these little pits along his mouth? He can see heat with those. So when a warm food is in a cold shadow, he can still see them!" Pit was winding himself back and forth between ms. Benton's arms behind Grott, and the kids were mesmerized. Pit was enjoying all the attention but he was also getting a little wiggly because he was excited. "Pythons are also cold blooded! They like to curl up where it's warm. Don't bother them, because they can be jumpy if you spook them." Grott turned and found Pit even with his face. Pit slid forward and curled himself around Grott's horns, which were cooler than the surrounding room and would help him cool down and calm himself. Grott looked like a Gorgon a little bit, with his stony looking skin and snake on his head.
"I have one last friend here to meet you today. Kevin is a little alligator. Alligators are some of the Oldest species in the world, and they haven't changed a whole lot in the whole time. They're very well adapted to their environment (shallow water with low visibility)." Kevin, hearing Grott talk about him, had run from under the table and was strutting back and forth in front of the kids. Kevin loved when people talked about him, since he loved himself so much. Grott stepped forward and swept Kevin back a little bit from the kids. "Alligators can be Very dangerous. Even Kevin here will get much larger and will try to eat anything that he can catch that fits in his mouth. So never approach an alligator. Kevin is super cute and has a nice singing voice" and at this point Keven started squeakign at the top of his little lungs "but he is still full of teeth and bites without really thinking about it." The kids all lined up, and got to pet Gene's back, tickle Pit's chin (if they wanted to), and scratch Kevin's back and tail while he squeaked his happiest squeaks. Some of the kids tried to squeak along and it got really loud, with all the squeaking and laughing. Kevin got overstimulated and started barking at kids who got too close, so Grott felt it was about time for everyone to pack up and head home. Jerrica helped, and the kids were asking questions the entire time, and some of them asked to touch his wings, and were surprised that he was softer than he looked. Grott was pretty worn out, after the wagon pull here, and talking in front of an audience is never easy, althought Grott preferred children, they were more open about learning about things before they judged them. Pit had slid himself down into a groove in Grott's vest adn was pressed up against his ribs, keeping himself warm. Gene was dead asleep, and Kevin was still trying to get another chorus of squeaking going. Jerrica offered Grott a hug, being careful not to squish Pit, and a lot of the kids lined up for hugs too. By the time Grott was able to get back on his way to the Grotto, the sun was already going down. There was no traffic on the sidewalks, so they made good time, and Kevin jumped out of the wagon at one point when a pigeon was strutting by. But finally he made it back to the brightly lit lot and slid Pit around the Power Transformer for warmth, and Gene went on top, fo rhe same reason. Kevin wasn't ready to settle down, so he ran around the lot croaking and trying to catch any birds that landed (he managed to snag a seagull, but it was too big and pulled itself free and flew away). Grott went inside and got a beef jerky and cheese stick pack, and settled into the hammock he had strung between a tree and a light pole. Listening to Kevin sing about how scary and big he was, Grott fell asleep.
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homeofhousechickens · 2 years
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How my chickens react to being put into water
The Leghorns- They have been getting baths for years so they know they need to behave but they will shove there wet heads under my armpit in protest. They only seem to enjoy it on cold days with warm water
Beeper- The Beeper has only had one quick bath and some foot washes so far. Beeper is very convinced the water is going to eat her but she trusts me so she allows it while looking at the water very intensely
Cream- She hates it when i give her a bath. She used to tolerate it but she gets more grumpy with age. She is still give me the stink eye for dampening her yesterday
Cannoli- is convinced the sink water will eat him unless its in the actual bath then he just stands or floats
Nugget- tries to constantly jump out but he is polite about it
Smores- gives up and accepts it. I think she kind of likes cold water when she is hot she was well behaved yesterday
Muffin- Muffin just stands there or floats like a boat. She does sometimes shake off or flap her wings and get water everywhere
Taffy- is not a huge fan of the water. Her body and feathers are extremely good at keeping her dry. She will stand for a bit then hop out and be completely dry in like 5 minutes
Sassy- seems a bit confused on why the bath is necessary but she behaves well if you pet her
Sugar- a water fiend. She wants nothing more then to play with me in the sink for hours while i feed her treats. She dislikes being hot and prefers cooler temperatures. Like Taffy she dries very quickly so i think this contributes to her enjoyment.
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macaroni-rascal · 6 months
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Okay, here comes the ice dance roast.
I'm calling this first team Olivia and a Half, because dude is barely there. I liked her previous costume too but she's also a smokeshow in this one. I'm convinced they're putting her in distracting costumes so we won't be looking at Tim, who desperately needs to discover that there's an audience there that he should be projecting to. Good outing, but it made me miss Adrian.
I'd give anything for Katerina's skirt lengths not to give me anxiety for one (1) season, and now she's added a long ponytail as well - why does she hate me so? These costumes are giving 2000s more than 80s. They desperately need our mother hen Madison Hubbell to take them under her wing, these unpointed toe kicks are not it.
Why are the Browns skating in what are essentially practice outfits to the famously flamboyant Elton John? Give these talented children funding! Otherwise they slayed, which is why I'm annoyed at the packaging. Best sibling team here, I said what I said.
HanYe with the costumes of the event and possibly the field. Only guy with an actual outfit. I wish her sleeves were attached to the bodice more in the front, we don't need armpit cleavage, but other than that, best dressed. Levels were oof. IAM needs to leave their teams with Paul Mac over the summer to learn how to execute their turns, they've got pretty much everything else figured out.
Holly and Jason looking hot af. I prefer her golden butt to Olivia's in the free. His corset-y mesh top - cunty af. Her bodysuit seems very intricate up close, but I wish that same level of attention went into getting their levels.
Taschlers look okay for a European team and the costumes are accurate for the music choice, but why oh why is the cutout on the side of his stomach round instead of matching her pointed one? Love their attack and unison but wish them better programs moving forward.
I actually like this French team this season and I hate that for me. His boatneck I'll allow because he isn't a broad boye but I'm not quite sure what his top has to do with the 80s. Her outfit is cute but I wish she'd move on from the Slutskaya cut and the henna dyejob to a more contemporary pixie or bob or something, they need to look more polished because they are indeed very trained and technically strong.
Marjo and Zak - my loves. The only ones I genuinely care about, not gonna lie. Seemingly the only team that read the ISU Communication on the theme this year. Fantastic campy costumes, killer performance ability, couldn't take my eyes off them. Noticed in the warmup that the costume designer shaded his butt crack as well and for that, that mofo need Jesus. They need to sort their levels situation out because they're the stars of the discipline, really, but we're not allowed to talk about that just yet (🤫).
Now for the crime of the night - the grand larceny that was Green/Parsons' score. They were the strongest team here across the board, they're the most complete all around, and I was fuming when I saw 4th. They def need to rework the cut but I like this better than the Paula, it suits them, the costumes weren't revolutionary but they both looked fine af. I know he's old enough to be her great uncle but at the same time I don't want them with lesser partners. The judges went out of their fucking way to prevent last year's situation when H/B (let's be honest) obliterated C/B. Maybe if G/Pa weren't coached by human silver medal and Canadian trophy husband Charlie Allen White, they wouldn't be in this mess.
And now for the grand finale - I'm dispatching a firing squad for the tech panel because are you seriously telling me that this team that graduated with honors from the Diana Davis School of Edgework is best-in-class??? And I can see what she was trying to do with the dress but she didn't quite nail it, the front is awkward, the mid-buttcheek zipper-like split in the back is a choice, and the skirt flaps around awkwardly. Meanwhile, Evan's outfit is just low-effort and perfunctory. They should've just put him in a white tank top and lightwash jeans to highlight his white basicness, since he wears her like a jacket for most of their programs anyway, it would've been apropos. They were out-skated but most of the teams here, they had no energy, speed, power or ice coverage, and to top it all off, they were on the edge of disaster in the lift again, and that was the only edge they were on the entire program. They deserve a surprise P/C comeback at this point, I can't take this anymore.
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A masterpiece of a roast.
Anon, I want you to know I got three OTHER anons that were excited to hear about your fashion opinions.
Olivia and a Half is beyond correct, I can forget he's there if I squint, and I enjoy the program so much more. I honestly don't think the Browns have ever had a good costume, and that's a damn shame. If Paul MacIntosh cam to IAM, I would cheer for years, they really need a kick in the ass in terms of tech, and quickly. Holly looks so good in that gold outfit, it's wILD. French team I can't even get into, they are never not So Deeply French Looking. You are spot on with G/Pa, they do not deserve to be sitting in 5th right now. I also can't even get into C/B, cause it's just Too Much at the moment when I'm trying to switch into women mode for the short program that starts in 5 minutes.
Anon, you're a damn icon.
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XXIII - Reconciliation
Those first few days back at home were spent reacquainting with my mother, telling her about what I had done, and her telling me of the local gossip.  Many of my mother’s trading partners in the canyon had passed away, but their sons and daughters remained, to tend the farms and trade with her.  The farms themselves had been starting to lose yield, and the pickings were slim, but somehow my mother had still been able to maintain a living.  Thankfully, one of the old partners that remained was Aunt Irene, who had one of the more successful farms.
Aunt Irene came to visit on our second morning there, unaware that I had returned.  The reunion with her was a special occasion: the minute she came in the door she spotted me across the room, sitting on my mother’s couch next to Cole.
“Shanee …” she started, shifting her focus between my mother and me, “… is that who I think it is?”
My mother smiled and patted Aunt Irene’s shoulder.  “It is.  Little Ariel’s returned to us.”
She sprinted across the room … quite an accomplishment for a 73-year-old Navajo woman … and tackled me into one of her trademark all-encompassing bear hugs.  “Oh little Ariel, we’ve missed you so much, how are you?”
I laughed and hugged her back.  “I’ve been very busy, Aunt Irene.  Busy, but now I’m home.”  I nearly cried, being hugged by the closest to extended family I knew, short of Ken.
At some point she released me when she noticed Cole, much like my mother had.  “And who is this, my girl?”
Cole stood up as I introduced him.  It took a while for me to explain the relationship I had with Aunt Irene, but eventually she embraced Cole just as warmly when I told her we would be getting married.  She wound up spending the entire day with us, reminiscing, catching me up on all of the local gossip, and eventually helping my mother put together a couple of meals.  While they cooked, I took Cole out to see the canyon.
He looked over the edge, where it dropped from the border of our back yard, and whistled.  “That’s quite a drop.  What kind of a woman must Irene be?”
I smiled back at him.  “Surprising, isn’t it?  Living with this canyon makes us a bit hardier than what you’d expect.  It’s all part of the culture of living on the rez.”
He nodded and put an arm around my shoulders.  “I admire that, actually.  It’s a whole different way of life, I can tell.”
“Want to see the bottom?”
He looked back at the house, then at me again.  “Are you sure we have time to go down to the bottom?  Isn’t dinner going to be ready soon?”
I winked at my fiancé and unfurled my wings, grabbing him under his armpits.  Within moments, we were sailing down to the bottom of the canyon using my wings as a parachute.  I watched his face as we continued our slow descent, and felt more love for him as I saw the rapt wonder in his eyes, marveling at the spectacle that nature had produced for my people.  Once we touched the bottom, he spent a few minutes walking around the canyon floor and viewing the long lines of farms before I collected him and flapped my way back up to the canyon’s mouth again.
Unfortunately, it was Aunt Irene who would greet us when we arrived at the top.  Her eyes were wide with surprise as I came face to face with her.
“What is this?  Ariel, what’s going on here?”  She looked panicked.
“Please, let me explain, Aunt Irene … there’s been some changes.  You remember my dream, the one I told you about a long time ago?”
She wiped sweat from her forehead.  “I remember, you told me about flying atop a great eagle, above the canyon.”
I looked behind me, to where my wings protruded from the HoSIP camouflage.  I waggled them slightly.  “This is what it meant.  It’s not just that I’m meant to fly … I am the eagle.”  I clutched Cole tighter.
“But that makes no sense, little Ariel … what made this happen?  How can you still be alive … still be human and yet do this?”
I motioned to try to keep Aunt Irene’s voice from rising loud enough for my mother to hear.  “It’s because I’m not exactly entirely human anymore.  And I need to be the one to tell mom about it … so please don’t tell my mother yet.”
Aunt Irene nodded, slowly and skeptically.  “I understand, but I don’t think you should hold this back from your mother much longer.  She should know.”  She turned to Cole.  “Did you know about this?”
He smiled and chuckled.  “I met her because of that, actually.  That and my father, it’s a really long story and maybe we’ll be able to tell you the whole thing sometime.”
Aunt Irene simply fanned herself, as I retracted my wings back into my body.  She shook her head slightly.  “Well, in any case, dinner’s ready.  I won’t tell your secret to your mother yet.  But you need to, and soon.”
We agreed all around to fill my mother in on the situation during the visit, before returning to the house for dinner.  Aunt Irene’s concern made me even more nervous about telling my mother about my changes, though, and that night I talked it over with Cole as we lay in bed.
“How do I even do it?  I can’t just drop the HoSIP and tell her ‘meet the new me,’ you know?”
He sighed and nodded.  “This is going to take some thinking, Ariel.  We need to be subtle about it, but we need to let her know the full truth.”
I sighed and snuggled closer to him, my nose taking his scent in deeply.  “It’s got to be tomorrow, Cole.  One way or another.”
He took my hand in his and held it gently as we both drifted to sleep.  The next morning, to my surprise I awoke alone in the bed, but his warmth and his scent still lingered.  I took a nearby blanket and wrapped myself in it, stepping out into the living room and noticing that the back door was open.  Through the closed screen I could see Cole, sitting in a meditative pose on another blanket, near the edge of the canyon.  My mind still raced with the conflict of how to tell my mother about the dragon, about 37A and my experiences with Cole and Ken and the others, but in that moment I felt a need I hadn’t known in a long time: to commune with the desert once again.
Despite only wearing a blanket, I stepped out into the brisk morning, toward where Cole sat shirtless and cross-legged.  He seemed to sense my presence before I reached him, and turned around to look up at me.
He smiled.  “You look beautiful this morning, Ariel.”
I sat down next to him, wrapping my blanket around the both of us.  “You look beautiful too.”  I rested my head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around me.
“So today’s the day, huh?  We tell her today.”
I sighed and nodded.  “I’ve been putting it off long enough, I suppose.  She needs to know, that I got for sure from Aunt Irene’s talk.  She needs to know her daughter’s changed.”
A beeping distracted us from our conversation.  I realized suddenly that it was coming from the HoSIP, which was made to look like a women’s watch on my camouflage body.  Hoping that it wasn’t losing battery power, I shut it down, only to discover that there was a message coming through.
“Something’s going on,” Cole asserted as I pushed the button.  The image of Gabe Francis was suddenly projected in front of us, which raised an eyebrow.
“Am I interrupting something?”
We looked at each other, then I covered my chest with the blanket.  “Sorry.  What’s going on?”
“Guys, we’re getting some weird readings from WYRMWOOD and they seem to be centered on where you are.”
Cole rolled his eyes.  “Crap.  Why now?”
“Don’t look at me, Sharpe.  It might have something to do with some of the weirdness going on elsewhere.”
This time I raised an eyebrow.  “What ‘weirdness?’”
“Have you guys been completely cut off from the world?”  He paused.  “Wait, don’t answer that, I think I know what’s been distracting you two.  Things are going wonky all around the world.  We’re talking end-times stuff here, lakes turning to blood and undead soldiers launching attacks from major bodies of water.  Jordan’s on the brink of collapse because of it.”
My breathing came quicker.  “What should we do?”
“Just stay there.  It all seems to be originating from the Four Corners region, and since you two are already on top of it by accident, I’m simply going to send Cyrus and Kitty your …”
His image was cut off abruptly.  Quickly I re-engaged the camouflage body and clung tighter to Cole.  “What do we do?”
“I don’t know, Ariel.  We just have to trust the others.  Meantime, we have other pressing matters.”  He motioned behind us as the door opened and my mother stepped outside.  I turned and looked at her.
She sighed.  “You always like coming out here where it’s dangerous, little Ariel.  Come back in, breakfast is nearly ready.”
I looked at Cole.  His eyes virtually screamed, better tell her now.
“Mom, I’ve got a bit of a confession to make.  There’s been some … changes that have happened to me, and I think it’s time I told you about them.”
Her eyes looked confused.  “What changes?  Ariel, what are you talking about?”
I stood up and allowed the blanket to drop around me, lifting my wrist and deactivating my HoSIP.  As the camouflage body disappeared and revealed the real me … dragon-skinned, finned, green me … my mother gasped.
“Good God and all that’s holy, what’s happened to you?”  She put her hand up to her mouth, like she tried to suppress a scream.
“I’m still me, mom.  It’s a very long story, but I’ve had some major changes happen.  I’ve been turned into this, but on the positive side …”
I unfurled my wings.  She squeaked with fear.
“Mom, please don’t be afraid, I’m still me.  I want to share this with you because you have a right to know.  You’re my mom, after all, and I still love you.”
Cole stood up.  Mom’s eyes shifted to him.  “You knew about this?  You let this happen?”
He cleared his throat.  “Actually, this happened before I had the chance to meet Ariel.  But I fell in love with your daughter because of who she is … a strong woman, a loving, caring woman who I believe has the best aspects of her mother.”
My mother slowly approached me, a hand outstretched.  She touched my face, looked into my one red eye.  She brushed my hair aside and found my still-human eye underneath my bangs.
“My little Ariel … so different and yet still the same … this is still your father’s eye …”
She pulled me gently into her arms.  I wrapped both my arms and my wings around her, clutching tightly to her.  “I still love you very much, mom.  I’ll always love you.”
When my mom looked up at me, there were fresh tears in her eyes.  “And I’ll always love you, my little Ariel.”
She clutched me tightly for a while longer, before I whispered, “let’s fly, mom.”
I collected her into my arms, taking a running start for the canyon’s edge and launching myself into the air.  My wings immediately caught an updraft and pulled me high above the earth, nearly into the clouds.  My mother shrieked and tried to say something, but her words were eventually lost, first by the wind and then by the enthusiastic laughter as she realized she was safe in my arms and yet so far above the desert.  At the time, neither of us knew, nor would we have cared, about the disasters taking place far below, or the forces so close to us which would soon threaten all life on earth.
(Transcriber’s note: The incidents which Francis mentions to Cole and Ariel were briefly reported in the tabloid media but quickly hushed up as “fictional.”  One of these events around this time could not be hushed up, and that was the mass-sickening of half the population of St. Louis when a nuclear-powered satellite dropped into the Mississippi River at rush hour.  After doing some research and twisting some arms, I’ve learned that the WYRMWOOD satellite which Ariel mentions is indeed the satellite that crashed into the river.  The more Ariel told of her story, the more I was convinced her team had something to do with preventing even more calamity from occurring at that time.—DAM)
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skitter-kitter · 2 years
Text
There is a light in the subway. It is unnatural. If I the subways were running, Emmet wouldn’t dare approach it. But, as it is, there is no one around.
He let the night shift go home early. Elesa has been asleep for hours, her last text sent days ago. His twin has been gone for months.
Emmet is alone. There is a light in the subway.
A light took his brother away from him.
He approaches the light, and finds himself transported into the middle of a blizzard. The cold sinks into him; his arms shake and his teeth chatter.
He screams, but no one hears.
Emmet walks, holding his hands under his armpits. He can only feel his hands, now. His knees buckle every other step.
After an eternity, his body gives out. His eyes stay open, gazing off into the distance.
Emmet swears he can see a dark figure in the distance. A hand raised to hold a black hat. A large piece of fabric flapping in the wind. It looks like wings, to his delirious mind. Though, something in him recognizes it. It’s a coat, just like his. Just like his brother’s.
He closes his eyes.
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glassartpeasants · 4 years
Text
Cold Wind
Moth!Shigaraki x F!Reader
Warnings: Moth Shigaraki, non-con, breeding, lactation kink, eggs, gore, death, shiggy being curious,
A/N: This is the Shigaraki of The Forest
@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love
~~~
“Shush you idiot! he could hear us!” You whisper yell at the newbie who was crying and panicking. You hated Newbies for this exact reason. Its all there fault when something goes wrong. Cause every time a monster gets out its because they aren’t paying attention.
This is idiot thought it would be a good idea to open the door to Mothura’s cage to try and be friends with him! He’s a monster he’ll kill you on the spot! Which is exactly what Mothura tired to do. Luckily you were there to grab the newbie and run. 
You would never be able to forget you colleagues screams of pure agony and terror as you fled past them while running for your life. You could hear his angered screeching from the entire building as it was deafening. The sounds of ripping flesh and silenced screams where haunting you still as you couldn't help but feel as if it was your fault.
After what happened last time when the monsters got out, almost everyone was killed. You guys managed to get them back into their cages and have everything safer. Monsterhaul, who was one of the strongest of the monsters was in his mating cycle and you heard some poor girl got caught in the middle of it. Instead of trying to help her, the scientist just threw her in the cage with Monsterhaul who has said to be ten times more hostile then before!
Considering that he now has a ‘mate’ he had to have the best things for her or else he’d throw a huge ass fit. You were just thankful he was fine around you. Since no one else wants to go around him your the one that brings him and that girl food everyday. You swear that girl’s belly gets bigger everytime you step in. That must have hurt alot considering that he’s an absolute tank of a monster.
“AHH!” You turn you head around so fast to scream at the newbie when you noticed they we’re nowhere to be seen. Did that asshole leave you to fend for yourself when you saved his ass in the first place? Oh the audacity of these people. 
Crossing your arms you stay silent and tried to slowly move you head side to side hoping to find some sort of indication of which direction they went only to let out a blood curdling scream when they headless body flew down from the sky. You couldn’t help the vomit that rises from your stomach. You let out a little hiccup before managing to swallow you vomit back down. You manover your body as you crawl away from the body before a strong gust of cold wind hits you back and makes a small part of your hair flow. 
You freeze before a pair of human like arms lift you up from under your shoulders, a yelp escapes your lips when you feel the creatures fuzzy neck around you. He rubs his fuzz all over your neck while you hear the flapping of his wings behind you. 
It shouldn’t surprise you that Mothura kept you alive. You were always his favorite care taker considering you would always feed him sugar cubes as a treat when you came to take care of him. Not to mention the way you use to rub his antenna’s when he was feeling sad or angry.
But it stopped when you were promoted to manager. You didn’t have time for him anymore which caused Mothura to be hostile with his new caretaker. Always screeching at them or biting them. He hoped being hostile would make you come back to take care of him but he was only sent new ones. Once and awhile you showed up to scratch the fluff of his neck. Which caused him to see you as his mate.
You didn’t know Mothura’s mating cycle since you haven’t had anything to make him show signs of one. So you just assumed he didn’t have one. Holy shit you wished you’ve done more research.
The hands that were under your armpits moved up and proceeded to grab both of your wrists and hoisted you up. His second pair of arms ran down your clothes body, feeling you up. His hands reach down your pants, tugging at the waist band. His fingers were cold as the dipped down and rubbed your hips slowly before ripping the fabric entirely. 
You cross your legs trying to hide your modesty as your legs slowly get covered in goosebumps. The wind was blowing through your shirt causing you to shiver and arch your back a bit. Your skin felt hot from embarrassment as Mothura stared at your half exposed body with a look of curiosity. He brings his face closer towards your breasts before looking down your shirt, his wings were flapping way faster then before. He ripped your shirt to shreds so he could look at your exposed breasts. 
He grabbed your thighs and put your legs on his shoulders. His fuzz tickling your feet making you let out a little giggle but your giggle stopped when you felt a hot breath against your cunt.
You look in Mothura’s direction and saw him eyeing your cunt like it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You turn your head trying to hide your face from embarrassment. But before you could do anything your eyes went wide when you felt his lips latch onto your clothed clit. Your toes curl as a reaction from the unsuspected feeling of his lips nursing on your clit. He wasn’t very soft or passionate about it he was rough. He sucked your clit harshly through the fabric of your panties, making it squeak a bit. Your heels dig into his back while you arch your back out of the stimulation he was giving you. 
He let his tongue slowly leave his mouth as he went to get a taste of your juices. His tongue slowly licked around the entrance of your cunt before his antenna’s went straight up and he quickly pushed his face closer to your cunt.
You couldn’t help but buck your hips closer to his face which he saw as encouragement and went even harsher on your clit. You bit your lips and let out a cry as the string in your belly was losening every suck he gave your clit. He pulled your panties to the side for a second before going to attack your clit again which sent you over the edge.
The string in your belly snapped as you let out a moan that rang through his ears. Your fluids gushed in his chin and on his fuzz. He looks at you and then he looks at your twitching cunt that still had your cum dripping out of it. Mothura took a little sniff of whatever it was that was coming out of your cunt. 
You let out a yelp once you feel his tongue squirming around you insides with such force that makes you shake. His eyes wide as if he was a starved man and you were a whole buffet. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you feel him lick you clean. His tongue stopped when he found a small hole in your pussy that left him puzzled. He licked that a bit before shoving his tongue into it. Your eyes grow wide as you clench your fists and tighten your thighs around his face. 
He couldn’t care less if you did that, he needed to know why this was here. His tongue continued to slip through your cervix before half of it was in your womb. Before you knew it he continued his frantic licking making you let out a scream at the new sensation. Your legs trembled as you let out puffs of air trying to catch a breath.
It finally occurred to him that he knew what this little pocket was for. His cellmate next door told him how to breed a human if he ever where to get one in his hands. He retracted his tongue quickly making your let out a sigh of relief. It felt like the world was spinning around you by how much you lost your focus due to the pleasure. You yell once your back hit the ground. Did he drop you? Asshole-
Your hands were pinned to the ground and your legs were spread open so your knees where at your chest. Your eyes looked like a dear in headlights when you saw him crawling above you. Taking a glance down you saw his cock slowly coming out of the fluff that hid it. You slowly realized what was about to happen and you tried to squirm out of his grasp only to be dragged closer to him. If this happens you would end up like that other girl, man did she look miserable considering how many eggs Monsterhaul had pushed into her. 4-5 she said which made you panic if that was going to happen to you.
You were about to open your mouth to say something but he silenced you with pressing his fuzz to your face. You realized this was his way of scenting you. You were to distracted byt the fuzz that was getting caught in your mouth that when he shoved his cock into it was so surprising. 
He let out a strangled cry at the warmth of your cunt enveloping his cock. He moved his face down before  looking at your hard nipples and latching onto one of them. his cock moved in and out of you at a slow pace while he was getting use to the sensation of your warm cunt. His tongue sucked your nipple just as harshly as he sucked your clit not to long ago. You whimper as your legs started to hurt from laying on the dirt. Rocks scrapping your back.
His cock slowly but surely started to pick up pace realizing that going faster was so much better. His wings were flapping in insane speed, unable to control them as he was to busy pounding into your cunt. His mouth sucking even harsher on your breasts. Why wasn’t there any milk coming out? Monsterhaul said that after awhile milk would drip from the humans breasts that were supposed to taste like heaven. His words. Did he have to get you pregnant then wait for about a whole 8-9 months?! That wasn’t fair! He wanted it now!
He started going faster to the point where it felt like he was jack hammering your cunt. You couldn’t help the moans that were coming out of your mouth. How long has it been since you’ve done the deed? I guess to long if your body was enjoying getting ravaged by a literal moth man. Your eyes were rolling back as the feeling of him snapping his hips to make sure his cock was fully in you was electrifying. 
He didn’t want to scare you off so he decided he could wait for a bit to drink that sweet nectar that was suppose to come out from your breasts. But that wasn’t gonna stop him from sucking them until they were red and swollen. His eyes were fluttering shut as he felt his end coming soon. Realizing that if he wanted to get some of the sweet cream he would need to knock you up immediately. Feeling his climax approaching quickly he stilled his hips and let his cock slowly pierce through your cervix and slowly shooting jelly eggs into your womb.
Your climax came quickly after feeling yourself getting knocked up by him. It was the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and you couldn’t help but lay your head back and pant heavily. The feeling of what seems to be 10′s of tiny jelly eggs filling your womb, Your just thankful they weren’t as big as Monsterhaul’s mate told you how big his were. But that didn’t mean it was a good thing either.
It seemed like he laid 100′s of tiny eggs into you before finishing off with splattering his sperm all over the wall of your womb. You arch your back at the foreign feeling of being full and breed like a cow. Tears were in the corner of your eyes as you felt your entire body become limp as Mothura snuggled into your chest. Letting out little purrs as he rubbed his hand all over your stomach feeling how much eggs he put into you and how much he couldn’t wait to suck the milk out of your breasts. The kids gotta share.
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fluffywings13 · 3 years
Text
Daddy’s Soft Side
Daddy wasn’t mean.
Daddy played with him, a lot, they played boardgames and video games and colored (he wanted to bake like he did with Mrs. Inko to make her cookies for helping daddy but daddy reminded him that he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen under any circumstances and that he couldn’t be in the kitchen without a grown up in there with him—especially to bake). Daddy didn’t yell at him, he didn’t hurt him, he smiled at him and his eyes looked happy, Keigo can read peoples eyes, he knows what happy eyes look like, and daddy had happy eyes.
“Daddy….”
Kettie looks up from the book he’d taken to reading at the five year old’s soft call, watching Keigo stand there, little fingers curled in the hem of his shirt nervously, wings fluttering. “Yea, Lil Chirps?”
Keigo has to know. “D—Did you mean what you said to momma?”
He closes his book and tosses it aside. “Mean what?”
The winged child licks his lips nervously. “That—That you do want me?”
The winged man heaves a sigh and leans forward, reaching out for the boy. “C’mere Lil Wings.” Kettie pulls the five year old up to sit in his lap. “I’ll be straight with you, Lil Bird, I didn’t plan on having a brat of my own. But that don’t mean I don’t want you. You’re still my boy and you’ll always be my boy.” He sighs when the boy continues staring up at him. “Yea, Kei, I do want you.”
The way the kid lights up is kind of saddening. “Really daddy, you mean it?”
“Yea, Lil Chirps.” Kettie nods slightly. “I mean it.” The winged boy smiles brightly and he chuckles, shaking his head softly, patting the boy’s belly. “Is that what’s been eatin’ at ya all morning?”
Keigo blushes and ducks his head. “Maybe…”
“You coulda just asked.” The winged villain snorts. “I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble to keep you if I didn’t want you.” He grins slyly and the five year old’s eyes widen. “You know what I think you need to calm those nerves, Lil Chirps?” Keigo shakes his head curiously. “A good old fashion tickle torture.” Kettie lays the boy down in his lap. “Thems is my specialty.” He lifts the boy’s small shirt and slides his hand up underneath. “Let me show you.” He wiggles a finger over the child’s belly button and smiles when he shrieks and giggles. “Oh, this is gonna be nice, very nice.”
Wide gold orbs watch him as he lifts the kid’s free arm above his head and crawls his fingers up over his belly towards his free underarm. “Hows about up here?” He wiggles a finger in the five year old’s armpit and Keigo squeals, tugging on his arm, twisting slightly in daddy’s lap. “Here too?”
“Dahahahahahahahaaaddyyyy!” (Daddy!)
“What, Lil Wings?” Kettie calls back as he scratches at the boy’s armpit with his talon and smiles when the child squeals again. “I’m doin’ something right now.” He walks his fingers back down his side and the five year old giggles freely, leaning away, pressing into his stomach as he spiders his fingers up and down his side lightly. The winged child shrieks with laughter, tugging on his arm again, wings fluttering wildly. Kettie’s mindful of his talons, not wanting to hurt the boy, but isn’t inhibited by them, torturing the child’s side freely. “What can daddy do for you, Lil Chirps?”
Keigo squeals when a finger returns to wiggle in his armpit again, kicking his legs frantically on daddy’s other side, twisting his hand one way and then the other. “Dahahahahahahahahaahahahaddyyy stohohohohhoop! Nohohohhohoho!” (Daddy stop! No!)
He shrieks when he’s pushed back down onto his back and daddy pushes his little shirt up, giggling when the older avian pokes around his belly. “Let’s see what we can do to this tummy.” Kettie holds him in place with his forearms and just attacks the lil birds chubby belly, Keigo screams and squeals, kicking wildly and flapping his wings frantically, smacking at the mans arm desperately as he squeals and cackles. “Imma get this lil tummy real good.”
The five year olds laughing too hard to form words, shrieking and squealing and cackling free and childlike as skilled fingers claw in and wiggle everywhere over his belly. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced before, laying in daddy’s lap squealing with laughter as the man tickle tortures his belly viciously. He didn’t even know daddy could be like this, that he could be this playful, he likes it, he finds that he likes playing with daddy even if he’s a bit of a meanie when it comes to his belly.
He wants to keep this daddy instead of the other daddy he used to have.
“How’re you feeling now Lil Chirps?” Kettie gives one last claw to that chubby little tummy before pausing his attack, smiling at the boys breathless wild giggles. “Feeling better?” Keigo just giggles. “Do I gotta go to the secret special spot?”
The winged boy’s interest is peaked and he waits until he gets his giggling under control. “W—What special s—spot?”
Kettie smiles at the boys curiosity, it is as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Want daddy to show you?”
Keigo giggles softly and nods. “Uhuh.”
“Alright, I can show you.” The winged villain reaches for the boy’s left wing and extends it. “Watch this, this is a special spot.”
He smiles when the boy screeches when he buries his fingers in the baby down red feathers.
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whump-tr0pes · 3 years
Text
Honor Bound 5 - 30
This is a series. Start here, continued from here.
This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, and the prequel Vera.
AO3
Masterlist
Content warning: child whumpee, drowning, rescue, medical whump, oxygen mask, ambulance ride
~
Years ago
Isaac looked out over the surface of the lake, the ripples moving over it with the gentle breeze that ruffled his hair. A good day for sailing, his dad always said, and then chuckled like he’d made a joke.
It was a nice day. The sun was high in the sky, not too hot. The trees on the shore seemed to almost shimmer as the wind shook their leaves, and Isaac watched a seagull slowly circle above him before it settled, floating on the top of the lake like a duck, close enough to the tiny rowboat for him to see the oil-like shimmer of its feathers.
Isaac had no idea how far away the sea was, and he’d never even seen it – so he wondered how, exactly, the ocean bird had found his lake, so far away from its home. He took a final bite of his sandwich and flung the crust towards the bird. It squawked and flapped its wings a few times, bigger across than any bird Isaac had gotten close to on land. It snapped up the crust and swallowed it whole.
He turned and grinned at his father, checking to see if he was watching. His dad smiled right back and brushed the crumbs off his hands, looking out across the water.
“You ready to keep rowing, bud?” he said.
Isaac nodded enthusiastically, and his father’s smile felt warm as he grabbed the oars in both hands and leaned back, pulling them through the water. Isaac’s heart pounded faster, both from how hard he was rowing, and with the excitement of starting to move so fast, and it was because of how strong he was. He thought he must be rowing faster than he could run on land. He’d have to ask his mom to try racing him down the pier, next time she came to the lake with them. Her on the walkway, him in the boat. He figured he might not be able to beat his mother, but… maybe another kid. Maybe if his friend Lacey could convince their parents to let him bring them…
The muscles of his back and arms burned, and he welcomed it. There was something about this: leaning hard into the oars, sending the boat all but flying over the water, with his dad watching with approving eyes. He was a good rower. His dad said so. He might even be as good as his dad one day, once he started growing. ‘Filling out,’ his mom had called it once, and ever since then he’d been asking for more meat with dinner. If he was going to fill out, he needed to fill himself with something.
“Hey, look at that,” his father said, pointing over Isaac’s shoulder with excitement in his voice. Isaac stopped rowing for a moment, looking behind him for what his father was pointing at.
His eyes went wide. Flying low over the surface of the water was the biggest bird he’d ever seen, all neck and wings and seemingly little else. His mouth gaped open and he shot a glance behind him at his dad.
“What is that?” he asked, his voice low with awe.
“I think it’s a crane,” his dad said, shading his eyes with his hand. “Or a heron.” He chuckled. “Not sure what the difference is. Still, that’s pretty cool, right? I didn’t know they lived in this area.”
Isaac abandoned the oars and turned fully around to get a closer look. “Whoa,” he said, as the bird beat its wings a few times and landed in the shallows all the way at the edge of the water. It stood on two spindly legs, looking like it was standing on stilts. “A crane.”
“Or a heron,” his father said with a snort. “We can look at pictures when we get home.”
Isaac rose up on his knees for a closer look. “Yeah,” he said softly, squinting as the sun shone brightly off the surface of the water. He pushed himself into a crouch, feeling the tiny boat wobble under him.
“Whoa, buddy,” his father said, his hand shooting out towards Isaac. “Hey, sit down. You’re too big now to be standing up in the boat.” His voice was still warm, soft.
Isaac glanced back at his father, his lips pulling into a wide grin. “I can keep my balance.” He stood up a little higher, feeling a thrill as the boat wobbled again – but he stayed on his feet.
His father huffed, and his smile fell slightly. “I know you can, buddy,” he said, his voice showing a hint of tension. “You’re just… making your dad nervous. Have a seat, we can see if we can row closer.”
“But I can see it from here!” Isaac said, standing all the way up. The seagull in the water near the boat started, and took off from the water with a flurry of wings. The sudden noise made Isaac jump. He felt the boat tip under him and he pitched to one side, his hands flying out to catch himself. He tripped on the lunch box in the bottom of the boat and fell hard, the side of the boat hitting him right in the stomach. His mouth gaped open with the burst of shock and pain.
“Isaac!” his father shouted, and Isaac felt the boat lurch even further to the side.
Stunned, he flipped over the side and fell face-first into the cool water.
Water rushed into Isaac’s open mouth. All around him he could feel cold water and see fractured light, a wash of blue-green. He couldn’t tell which way was up – black spots danced in front of his vision from the crush of pain. He felt paralyzed, like the blow had frozen his muscles. Water poured into his throat. It burned in his nose and suddenly, he could move again.
His limbs shot out in frenzied panic. He could feel the water filling his shoes, dragging on his clothes like they weighed a hundred pounds. He could swim, he could swim, but… the terror clutched at his limbs and crushed his chest. He let out a scream in a stream of bubbles, and the sound seemed miles away. His vision clouded as he opened his eyes. He distantly saw a circle of yellow, floating above him in a green sky.
Not the sky.
He shuddered as the water crept inside him, forcing out the air. His stomach felt like someone was squeezing him. He kicked hard, one last desperate attempt to reach the surface.
A hand closed around his hair and dragged him upwards.
He threw his head back and sucked in a gasp of air as he broke the surface of the lake. The water burned in his chest and he coughed, his eyes wide, his fingers clawing for something to grab onto. His nails dug into his dad’s arms, and his dad let out a hiss.
“I-Isaac,” his dad heaved, his voice twisting like he was crying. Isaac clawed at his father’s shirt, pushing himself up, desperate to breathe. “Isaac, buddy, I got you, I—” The words were drowned out as his father’s head slipped beneath the surface of the lake. Isaac sobbed and grabbed at anything he could to keep his own head above water. His lungs burned like fire lived inside them.
His father broke the surface with a gasp. “Isaac, it’s okay, just, just hang on—” His father’s hand shot out to the side, and Isaac felt the water slide past him. He turned his head and saw the side of the small boat, overturned now. His father heaved him up onto it, and he struck the keel, forcing more air out of his lungs. He dug his nails into the wood and clawed to stay on. His father remained in the water, clutching the side of the boat.
“Hey!” his father roared, waving his arms at a nearby boat. “Help! Help!”
Isaac moaned and coughed out another mouthful of water. His eyes slid shut and he slumped, exhausted. He couldn’t breathe. The water rattled in his chest. He slipped off the side of the boat, back into the water.
“No, no no no no,” his father gasped, and heaved him back onto the wet wood. Isaac wailed brokenly and dug his fingers in again.
He could hear something, a scream, maybe, or a siren. Or the wind. He could barely lift his head to look. There were lights on the shore, flashing in red and white. His vision blurred again as water dripped into his eyes. His head thumped back down onto the boat and he drifted, his heart hammering in his chest. Every cough took his breath away, wracked through his body until he felt like he was drowning again.
Distantly, he heard the sound of a motorboat. Getting closer. Closer. Then voices.
“Is he— Is he…?” A woman’s voice.
“I, I d-don’t know,” his father shouted, and his voice broke. “P-please, help…” Isaac felt his father’s hands under his armpits, lifting him, and another, unfamiliar pair of hands dragging him over the side of another boat. He shivered as his clothes clung to his skin. The boat wobbled, and another body landed beside him— His father. The boat lurched and started to move.
“Isaac,” his father sobbed, and Isaac felt his own heart twist at the sound. “Isaac, please, please… Talk to me, buddy…”
“Get him on his side.” The order came with a shaking voice.
Isaac hung limp in his father’s arms as he was rolled. Water came trickling out of his mouth. He convulsed weakly, sucking in lungfuls of air. It didn’t help. His chest felt heavy.
His father’s voice again. “Isaac? Oh, god. Isaac, Isaac! Breathe, buddy, come on…”
Isaac coughed, and obeyed. His throat felt like it was spasming shut.
His father’s voice faded. “Did someone call 911?”
A pause. “Y-yeah, I, I think so…?”
Isaac shuddered and started to cry. “D-daddy,” he whimpered, his hands reaching for him. “Daddy…”
Tears mixed with the water on his face as his father dragged him up off the bottom of the boat and crushed him to his chest. “Isaac, buddy, I’m sorry, oh my god, Isaac…”
Isaac coughed weakly, gasping at the air that didn’t seem to be going in. “Daddy…”
“I got you,” his father sobbed. “I got you.” There was a bump, a shudder, and Isaac was being carried. He clutched to his dad’s neck, trembling. “Th-thank you,” his father said with a shaking voice. The world tilted around Isaac. The sun shone in his eyes. He raised his head again and blinked as he saw someone coming towards him, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, brown eyes that looked at him steadily, wearing dark blue clothes and a badge that shone on her chest. He clutched harder at his father as he fell to his knees in front of the woman.
“What happened?” she said crisply, very serious.
“H-he just f-fell out of the boat,” his father sobbed, shaking. “I d-don’t, it happened so fast, he f-fell and the boat tipped over and he… he h-hasn’t been acting right, he—”
“Did he hit his head?” Still in his father’s arms, Isaac felt hands move through his hair, pressing down on his skull, pressing on his neck.
“I d-don’t think so? I… I didn’t see… He wasn’t breathing right, please, please—”
“Hey,” the woman snapped, and his father fell silent immediately. Her voice softened. “What’s your name?”
“J-Jonathan,” his father whimpered.
“Okay. My name’s Charlotte. I need you to breathe for me, okay? I need you to stay calm for him.” Isaac’s father took a shuddering breath. “What kind of boat?”
“A r-rowboat,” his father croaked. Isaac’s mouth gaped open. His lips felt numb.
“Hm. Looks like you took a swim, too. Where he fell, was it deep enough that you could reach the bottom?”
His father was silent. He shook his head.
Charlotte shrugged. “I mean, that’s good. Hey, buddy.” Isaac whined as Charlotte squeezed his arm. “What’s your name?”
“Isaac,” he whimpered, his chest heaving. He couldn’t breathe.
“Did he lose consciousness at any point?” Isaac flinched as something cold pressed to his chest under his shirt, then moved, to the other side of his chest. “Take deep breaths, buddy,” Charlotte said. The cold circle moved to two spots lower on his chest. “Yeah, sounds like he inhaled a lot of water.”
“Lose c-consciousness?” his father said, distantly. “No… no, I, I think h-he was… awake…�� His arms tightened around Isaac. “Wh-what, what should I—”
“Well, he definitely needs to go to the ER,” Charlotte said. “I’d recommend you let us take hi—”
“Yes,” his father said hollowly. “Can I… c-can I come with him?”
“Yeah, of course. Our cot’s right over here, can you carry him?”
“Y-yeah. Yeah.”
“Did you get hurt, or anything?”
“No.”
“Okay, good. This is my partner, Ethan. This is Jonathan and Isaac.”
“H-hello.”
A man’s voice, now. “We’ll take good care of him. Hey, Isaac. Yeah, right here.”
Isaac whimpered as his father put him down on a small bed with wheels, sitting just outside the ambulance that was parked by the pier. Its lights were still on.
Charlotte looked at Isaac’s father. “Dad, can you get his shirt and pants off? He needs to get dry. I can grab a blanket for you in a sec.”
“Sure,” his dad said flatly, as if from a million miles away. He reached out and gently guided Isaac’s soaking wet shirt off over his head.
“Daddy,” Isaac whimpered, panic creeping back into his chest. He clawed at his neck, his throat spasming shut, opening again. “C-can’t, can’t—”
“I know,” his father breathed, gently removing Isaac’s pants. A blanket was immediately spread over him. “The, the, the EMTs are gonna take good care of you, okay?”
Isaac’s fingers wound in his father’s shirt. “Dad…”
Ethan, the other EMT, put his hand on his father’s shoulder, and he stepped away. Isaac whimpered softly as Charlotte pressed a button on the end of the cot, and it lifted into the air. The cot shuddered as they pushed it towards the ambulance and loaded it in.
Isaac’s tears stopped when his father climbed into the back of the ambulance and took his hand again.
Behind him, Charlotte was talking. “Hey, dad. He needs oxygen.” Ethan clipped something to his finger, and behind him, a beeping started. It was fast. “Oh, yup. Eighty-eight percent. Ethan, let’s get a line started, too. So, Jonathan, he might not like the mask at first, so I need you to help me. Just hold it to his face. Once he’s used to it, we can use the strap to keep it on, but for now, just hold it up. Okay?”
His dad looked at Charlotte with tear-filled eyes, and nodded. Charlotte passed an oxygen mask into his hand, and he held it to Isaac’s face.
It was smothering. Isaac sobbed and turned his head away, tears rolling down his cheeks.
“Hey, buddy, no,” his dad said gently. “It’s oxygen. It’ll help. It’ll help you breathe, buddy, okay? Can I give you the oxygen?”
Isaac looked back at his father. His lower lip trembled and he nodded, slowly. He did his best to hold still as his father held the plastic mask over his face again.
Panic spiked in his throat, and he squirmed under the blanket. He shivered and suddenly realized he was freezing. Cool air blew over his face, smelling almost like the beach ball his friend Dakota brought the lake sometimes when they wanted to picnic on the beach. Slowly, he felt his breathing come easier. The beeping behind him slowed down. The ambulance started moving with a lurch.
“Ninety-five percent. Much better.” Charlotte shuffled along the other side of the cot, smiling gently. “Hey, buddy. Feeling any better?”
He could breathe better. He dragged in a deep breath. He could feel the water rumbling in his chest. It felt like when he’d gotten sick a few years ago, and his parents had taken him to the clinic and left with a bottle of pills that made his stomach hurt. Still, they made him better.
“Do, do I need antibiotics?” he said weakly.
Charlotte laughed. It was a nice sound. “Maybe,” she said. “But not until we get to the hospital, at least. Dad, we can probably just use the strap now. Isaac, if we put the strap on the mask, can your dad let go?”
Isaac nodded, and shivered again under the blanket. The ambulance bounced as it rolled over a bump.
His father patted his pockets, then drew his cell phone out of the pocket on his pants. It was dripping wet. “Shit,” he hissed, then glanced at Isaac apologetically. “Um, M-Ms. Charlotte…”
Charlotte glanced up from where she was assembling something on the counter, something with tubes and what looked like a needle. “Mm-hm?”
“Can I, um… c-could I… borrow a phone? I n-need to call my wife. I… what hospital are you taking us to?”
“Boulder City General is the closest,” Charlotte said, reaching in her own pocket for her phone. She passed it to Isaac’s father. “We’ll be there in about twenty, if you want to tell her to come in the main ER entrance and go to the check-in counter. They’ll take her back from there.”
Isaac’s father took the phone and dialed the number with shaking hands. He held the phone to his ear. “C-Carol-Ann?” he said, his voice weak. “Um… You need to get to the general hospital. Isaac’s okay, but… we had an accident at the lake, and… no, no, he’s okay. He’s alright. He fell out of the boat but he’s okay now. The E-EMTs are giving him oxygen. Yeah, he’s… he’s awake. Carol-Ann, listen to me. He’s okay. He’s doing okay. Just… scared me.” His father’s fingers moved slowly through Isaac’s wet hair. “Yeah, I’ll tell him.” He held the phone away from his mouth. “Mom loves you, buddy.”
Isaac nodded, another cascade of tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. “L-love you, mom,” he rasped, and coughed harshly.
Continued here
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corrieander · 3 years
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Fireworks: Bucky x Sarah, Chapter 6
Oh, Sam! We’re heading toward the climax now, but just not quite there yet! And I’ll definitely get to some good resolution, fluff, and domesticity at the end. If you read this far, you’ve earned it!
I don’t really know how tagging works... So, thanks to @wayshwaysarah​ @jasminedayz​ @mylifeasafangirl and others(!) for likes and comments and encouragement.
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Chapter 6
Sarah fought against Sandhurst’s control as he sent her running toward the highway. She couldn’t shake it off completely, but she turned a full run into a painful jog. Sandhurst’s disc seemed to work best with limited muscle movements. Making her grip Bucky’s arm, for instance, was a simple reflex.
Running—making her use legs, torso, and arms—was more awkward. Besides, he must be distracted. She couldn’t turn her head back to look, but she knew that Sam and Bucky must be giving him hell. They would come to help her when they could.
Please, Lord, let them come soon.
She didn’t know exactly where she was—on I-10 somewhere between Lafayette and Crowley—but the traffic wasn’t too bad. Most people were slowing to watch the fight behind her, so she wasn’t too worried about getting hit.
Still, as her feet left grass and began to plod across pavement, she was scared. The cars weren’t totally stopped either.
A white lady in a minivan pulled up near Sarah and rolled her window down. “Are you okay, hon? Do you need a ride?”
Sarah’s body wouldn’t let her approach the car, even if she wanted to. “Uh—” Her halting jog took her in front of the lady’s car. The woman’s look turned to worry and suspicion.
The next lane wasn’t stopped. Sarah closed her eyes, feeling the wind of an 18-wheeler blowing past her. She fought, but her feet kept moving.
Right as it passed, with Sarah’s left foot poised to take her into the next lane and whatever vehicle was coming next, Sarah felt her armpits grasped from behind. Sam lifted her into the air.
“About time!” Sarah said.
“Yeah, I love you, too,” Sam said. “Glad to hear your voice.” He swooped a little drunkenly as they went over the four-lane highway.
“Are you alright?”
He course-corrected, but slightly too far, and one wing nearly clipped her as he flapped upward. “Sorry. Ugly Dude got a lucky hit on the back of my head. I’m good. You free?”
“I think he’s distracted. But I can’t do everything.” Her feet were still moving in a vague running motion, like those dogs on youtube when they were held over water.
“Get rid of that thing!” Sam said.
Sarah only then realized that her hand was still clamped around the disc, the one Sandhurst had failed to get her to attach to Bucky. She shook her arm, wriggled her wrist, but the fingers wouldn’t open.
“Not working.”
Instead of landing on the far side of the highway, which Sarah half-expected, Sam was spiraling higher. It still felt like he was barely holding it together, which made her scared for him, but also for herself. If he dropped her at this height... But hey, she’d said she wouldn’t criticize his flying and she wouldn’t. Maybe it always felt like the bleeding edge of falling; how would she know?
Still, yikes, they were high. “Where are we going?”
“Helicopter,” Sam said. “But I can’t put you in there until we get rid of that thing. You might slap it on the pilot next.”
Sarah again tried to shake her hand. Nothing.
Sam asked, “Do you know if there’s a range on those things? If we get more than a mile away, maybe?”
“I don’t know!” Sarah’s arms and back were aching painfully from dangling in Sam’s grip. “Maybe.” Then she remembered the first two men in the helicopter, talking to Sandhurst while they brought her in. “Maybe not.”
Sarah felt an intense burst of rage. The disc in her neck felt like a white-hot ember. The rage wasn’t hers... Sandhurst was furious about something.
“Bucky might be in trouble,” Sarah said, through gritted teeth.
“Bucky is trouble. He’ll be alright.” They were flying parallel to the helicopter now, and Sarah could see an agent leaning out, waving them over.
Through the murderous rage that Sandhurst was projecting, Sarah also felt her muscles relax. She thankfully opened her sweaty hand and released the disc. The ridged circle was imprinted on her palm.
“Finally,” Sam gasped. He slipped diagonally sideways and all but threw the two of them into the open side of the helicopter.
It never looked this painful in the news videos, she thought, splayed painfully under her brother’s weight.
The agent helped her to wiggle free and get to a seat. Sam was still laying on the floor, his feet sticking out into the open air.
“Sam!” Sarah shouted. He must have been hurt far worse than he said.
The agent was leaning over him now. “I don’t see blood, but...”
He leaned back and Sarah got a good look at her brother. Slightly off-center on the back of his head, about a third of the way from his left ear, was a disc. Sandhurst must’ve gotten it on him in the fight, but Sam didn’t realize.
Sam’s wings twitched and Sarah jumped on him. She got a knee on his back, not caring if he got a bruise. “Help me hold him down. Sandhurst is getting control of him.”
She scrabbled at the disc with her fingernails, wondering if there was a chance, if it hadn’t had long enough to attach...
Sam moaned. “You bastard.”
“Sandhurst is talking to him,” Sarah said. “No, no, no!”
  Bucky was fighting Sandhurst, and he wasn’t having it all his own way, but he was making progress. Bucky wasn’t as strong as he used to be. Perhaps because he didn’t go into cryogenic freeze between ops anymore to recover, or perhaps because the freedom the Dora Milaje had given him had taught his body to respect its boundaries again.
Whatever it was, despite his super soldier strength, he just wasn’t quite the machine he had been. For every crack in Sandhurst’s obscene gear, Sandhurst got in a blow. Those blows, powered by the servo engines in his exoskeleton, were punishing.
Still, it was a matter of time. Bucky kept moving—couldn’t let the disc touch him—kept taking the monster apart, bit by bit.
“You weren’t—in—our surveillance,” Sandhurst ground out. He managed to clip Bucky’s chin with a blow and Bucky spun to the side. Bucky allowed the momentum to carry him all the way around and turned it into a kick at the side of Sandhurst’s knee.
The man grunted, but that part of his exoskeleton was sadly intact, so it didn’t break the joint.
“I’ve been traveling,” Bucky panted. “And I know how to keep a low profile. I’d tell you to walk away, but that’s not an option for you anymore.”
“You’re wasting my time!”
“Got somewhere better to be?”
Sandhurst tried to hit his servos to get in the air, but Bucky managed to twist him off balance. For a moment Sandhurst was disoriented, and Bucky pounced. He leveraged the larger man into an over the shoulder throw. In wrestling it was called a hangman’s facebreaker. It would land Sandhurst on his head and—with the neck pieces of his suit already broken—hopefully put him out of the fight.
Bucky was therefore taken completely off guard when someone hit him in the lower back with the force of a falcon. The blow lifted him off his feet, wrenched Sandhurst out of his hold, and launched him fifteen feet in the air.
Bucky managed to tuck and roll over his shoulder as he landed.
His back was unhappy as he got up. Was this how Steve felt every time they fought?
Sam stood next to Sandhurst. Sam’s wings were outstretched to protect the other man, who’d gotten to his feet, breathing heavily.
Oh no.
Sam’s face was a study in pain. His nostrils flared as he breathed, his head twitched violently, as if a fight was going on within. One hand jerked up, as if reaching for Bucky. His other hand grabbed it. One foot stepped forward, the other back. He went to one knee and curled in on himself.
With Sam hunched over, fighting an internal battle that made Bucky’s gut ache in sympathy, the disc on the back of his head was visible.
Sandhurst even grimaced. “This—is—not as easy as it looks. These Wilsons are tough, I’ll admit,” he said. “Hard to control. But I just need them for today. I would’ve released them after that, but...” He spat blood out of his mouth. “It’s personal now.”
Bucky saw that Sarah was back on the field. She was several paces behind Sandhurst. Surrounded by his guys. One of them pushed her forward into Sandhurst’s grasp. He put a hand around the back of her neck.
Bucky was still breathing heavily, and he was feeling something like...panic. He hadn’t had this much to lose in a fight since... well, not since Thanos. This was his family. His best friend—yes, he could admit that, even if Sam denied it—and the woman he cared about. Even if nothing ever happened with him and Sarah, Bucky would always love her and her brother.
So here he was. High stakes, bad odds.
The helicopter had come back around and landed. With his peripheral vision, Bucky saw more reinforcements arriving also. Agent Woo must’ve called in the cavalry. Police, FBI... there were at least three vehicles on the shoulder of the highway and men in vests fanning out around him with guns sighted on Sandhurst.
That was all well and good and he appreciated that they were finally here. But Sandhurst had his hand on Sarah’s neck.
Worse, he had his discs on her and Sam, and Sam didn’t show any sign of being able to throw it off yet. In fact, as they watched Sam’s shoulders slumped. He shook his head like a dog trying to get water out of his ears. Then he stood up, face slack, and nodded subserviently to Sandhurst. He didn’t look anything like himself without his customary intensity or smirk.
Oh, Sam.
Backup was good, but Bucky didn’t want shots to start flying with Sarah and Sam in the middle of everything. Not unless Bucky was doing the shooting, maybe. He trusted his own aim, but not many others. He didn’t carry a gun any more though. He’d had enough of them as the Winter Soldier.
Now, however, an exception was warranted.
He held his hand out to Jimmy, without taking his eyes off his friends. “Weapon, now.”
He felt the warm stock of a gun slap into his palm.
Sandhurst seemed to have a decent respect for his skills at this point, however. Or maybe he’d searched his memory of the news from a few years ago and come up with Winter Soldier. Either way, as Bucky moved his arm in one fluid motion to line up a shot, Sam exploded into action.
He grabbed both Sarah and Sandhurst. Sam couldn’t take off from a standing position with that much weight, but Sandhurst used his exoskeleton motors—the parts that weren’t broken by Bucky anyway—to give them lift.
Thrown into the air by Sandhurst’s power, Sam wings snapped open and turned it into a glide. Bucky got off one shot before they were out of range. Blood dripped from Sandhurst’s calf, but Bucky cursed. That kind of wound just wasn’t enough.
“Amazing shot, though,” Jimmy said, encouragingly.
Was this dude patronizing him? Bucky raised an eyebrow.
Jimmy shrank back a little. “Sorry, I know it’s not the moment, but that was some precision shooting.”
Bucky just looked back to where Sandhurst’s guys were still grouped. They looked a little shocked at being left behind. Bucky wasn’t sure whether they were coerced into Sandhurst’s gang against their will, but he suspected not. Unlike Sarah and Sam, they weren’t awkward and twitchy and... controlled.
Right now they looked angry, bordering on panicked. Several of them immediately began to claw at their discs, but one of them just laughed. A bitter, broken-glass laugh that made Bucky’s skin crawl.
“Don’t bother boys. The Controller never leaves loose ends in his programs. We’re an expendable stack, but we signed up for it. First in, first out.”
As he finished talking, the discs exploded. Faint pops and flashes of neon green left spots in Bucky’s vision, despite the hazy bright sunshine around them.
They all fell to the ground.
“This is worse.” Jimmy said, still next to him. “This is a much worse show than the last one.”
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